Time Travel Chronicles Part I

Chapter 7

George’s image on the X-901’s main screen had a smile on its face, and that was a good sign. "Everything is back to normal. We’re able to contact Galactic Prime and Earth Command. Congratulations, ma’am.” 

“Thank you, but we must immediately get busy and stop the alien from doing any further damage.” 

“The flat aliens have found a way to stop any further incursions into the past, ma’am.” 

“Good. We’ll be there soon, and I want to have a conference.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Marty fired the X-901’s engines to pull out of orbit and head for Omega Station. After docking, he and Angie headed to the command deck. 

“I want all of the senior commanders and science staff to report to the conference room at 1100, Delphi.” 

“Yes, Angie.” 

The main conference room on Omega Station was packed, which was unusual. Most conferences were small affairs, but this was important, and everyone knew it. 

“We are at war,” Angie said. “The Mysterious aliens are attacking us by trying to destroy our past. I consider this an act of war, and we must stop them at all cost. Therefore, I am putting us on red alert. We will go out with the fleet and take the war to the enemy.” 

George held his hand up. 

“What is it, George?” 

“I don’t think that we are in the correct timeline.” 

“Why do you think that?” Angie asked. 

“Because Uma is not listed as ever being born.” 

Angie glanced at Uma before she turned back to George. “Is this the only discrepancy?” 

“Yes, ma’am. I had Delphi scour the records to find any changes, and this is what she came up with.” 

“How did this happen?” 

“I believe that Mahatma Gandhi was not assassinated in 1948, and that caused many changes in India that prevented Uma from being born.” 

“This is not a significant change,” Marty said. “I don’t see how this is a problem.” 

“It means that we are not in our original timeline,” George said. “It may not be all that important, but I don’t think that we should ignore it.” 

“Okay,” Angie said. “We’ll go back and correct this change.” 

Nobody argued with her. 

Angie looked at Uma and smiled. “I assume that you know how to speak Hindi.” 

“Yes, ma’am. My friends and I often use it just to keep up with our heritage.” 

“That’s good. Martin and I will rely on you to get us through this little excursion to New Delhi.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“I wonder how the failed assassination of Gandhi caused Uma not to be born,” Marty said.

“Gandhi was responsible for the peaceful resistance movement in India,” Angie said. “Who knows what effect that had on people. All it would take is for her mother and father not to make a connection.” 

“The exact change would be most difficult to determine,” Angie said. “For now, we will concentrate on preventing Gandhi from escaping his fate.” 

Suddenly, Both Angie and Uma were wearing a sari and Marty was wearing a white suit. 

"Oh my," Uma said. "It's been a long time since I wore one of these." She felt her head. "I have hair." 

"Yeah, I don't know many bald Indian women," Angie said. "Especially in 1948." 

Uma laughed. 

“I think that we’re ready,” Angie said. “We will go to Birla House where Gandhi was assassinated.” 

The house was more like a building. It was an impressive structure with two wings of white brick and an entrance that was flanked by two pagoda towers. 

“It’s five on the nose,” Angie said. “The assassination was supposed to take place at five-ten.”

“Is that the assassin?” Marty asked.

“I think it is,” Uma said. “That’s Nathuram Godse.” 

“He’s being held from entering the house,” Angie said. “Go see what the problem is.” 

Uma approached a man who was holding up Godse from entering the Birla House. He appeared to be a guard, but it was difficult to tell. 

“Why are you holding this man?” Uma asked him. 

“This is no business of yours,” the man said. 

“I believe it is,” Uma said. “You will allow this man to go.” 

“I will not.” 

Marty approached and punched the man in the mouth. He collapsed on the ground. 

Uma smiled at Godse. “Go.”

The assassin wasted no time in entering the grounds of Birla House. He probably assumed that Uma and Marty were part of the Hindu Mahasabha movement that was allegedly responsible for the assassination. 

After some time a commotion from the grounds of Birla House attested to the dastardly deed. Women were wailing and someone yelled that Gandhi was shot. 

"I think we had better go," Angie said. 

They appeared on the X-901's command deck. Angie and Marty were in uniforms; Uma was still wearing a sari. 

"You may keep it," Angie told her. "I'll give each of your friends one." 

"Thank you, ma'am. You are most generous." 

George's image appeared on the main screen. "You succeeded, ma'am. I have Delphi running a comparison now for any collateral effects. I'll let you know as soon as it's finished." 

"Thank you." 

"Well, Uma, at least you're legit," Marty said. 

"I hate the fact that Mohandas Gandhi had to die for me to be born. He was a great man. There is no telling what he could have accomplished had he lived." 

"That's true," Marty said. "But look at what you’ve accomplished." 

"You are being kind, Martin." 

"He is right," Angie said. "We owe much to you." 

George's image graced the main screen again. "Delphi reports that we're clean; she can't find any discrepancies." 

"Good. Now, we must go and secure our time-line. Have Delphi prepare the fleet for action." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"What are we going to do?" 

"We will take the war to the enemy, and we will demonstrate to them that we will not tolerate a temporal war." 

A temporal war?