First Mission 2

Lt feels my uniform, "waterproof, yet breathes, right?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Never seen or felt fabric like this," runs a fingernail, "resists snags right?"
"Yes ma'am."
From a distance of less than a foot, she stoops, looks me straight in the eye, "my guess kid, a uniform, no markings so it'll look civvy. You in Girl Scouts?"
"School uniform ma'am."
"Horsesh** kid, no school does stuff like this." She feels inside my shirt, draws out the chain, "now this kid, ain't jewelry, no girl on earth wears garbage like this. Dogtag, Russian alphabet, right?"
"Close to Russian, not exact ma'am."
She gasps, turns white, "th-this n-number 14-2-12143, d-date of b-birth?"
"Yes ma'am."
She puts an arm on my shoulder, "ok kid, nuff crap, what on earth is a twelve year old girl doing with a Russian dogtag dated ten thousand years in the future? In an indestructible uniform reeking to the very heavens of marijuana?"
"Not exactly my choice ma'am, I'm a draftee."
She roars with laughter, the others join in. She orders them to sling weapons. They take out an ancient kero stove to make tea, spread an old blanket on the sand. So begins the Mad Hatter's Tea Party.
The jeep driver looks at my tag, gasps, "our little friend here is actually a Lt, 3rd Battalion, 5th Regiment, Imperial Marines." Of course I don't say 3/5 is cover name for Time Corps.
Lt laughs, "training?"
"Yeah."
She grins, "I studied in Britain, know two grand ain't gonna do much in Canada, keep you going a month." Pause, absolutely wicked smile, "but it won't."
"Why not?"
"Your money, ID, worthless. Printed fifteen years in the future."
I groan aloud, they dropped me wrong time and wrong place. The odds of getting back just shrunk drastically.
"So what happens when the Comrade misses rendezvous? Spaceships rescue you?"
"I was informed, miss rendezvous, my tough beans."
"Right, so that puts you in the job market. What did you do before all this nonsense?"
"History degree, Bachelor of Arts."
She takes a cigarette pack, offers. To be polite, I take. After lighting her and me, quietly says, "we actually need you. Teach English, Math, History. Round here, no rank or surname, it's first name only. I'm Malali, Sgt is Sonali, these here are Arezou and Gulazar. Your first name?"
"Indira."
"As in Indira Gandhi?"
"She did make a name for herself. Lotta families the first girl is Indira."
Arezou, jeep driver, wraps her arms around my neck. Starts French kissing vigorously. I resist for all of half a minute, relent. She is pretty hot stuff.
Malali taps Arezou's shoulder, "come on, nuff for now. We are on patrol, remember?"
Arezou pulls away a few inches, stares into my eyes, "gotcha, stigma in your time and place. Soon see, just part of life here. Think you're hot, such nice skin. Keep me in mind."
"Oh I will."
Malali hugs me, "come on, let's go find our CO, get you a job."

Fereshta would be forty, large build, looks kind. Listens to Malali's story of finding me. All goes well til she sees the dogtag. Brutal tone, "uff Malali, use your noodle. Russian spy, shoulda shot her on sight."
Malali stays cool, "may I remind you of the Geneva Convention? In uniform, found in uniform."
"Has a floral print dress in her bag. Change her into it, shoot her."
Fereshta stares at me, "ok kid, prove you aren't a spy then."
My photographic memory has long since picked up uniforms and insignia from university history days. "Commander, would you agree that Russia is the second biggest superpower on Earth?"
"Yes."
"So, do you really believe anyone of any importance in the Kremlin would waste their precious time on the Association of Afghan Women? Come on, Russians want big fish, real countries, real organizations, not penny ante little players like you."
She blushes, "gotcha, going after Canada, not us."
In a bored tone, "Commander, two grand does not a Commie revolution finance. Barely buys food and lodging."
She blushes hotter, "could still shoot you. Or turn you over to the Canadians, who'd do it."
I ponder, why not? Life is nothing but aggro anyhow. With I+ blood, I'll live forever, til an accident or a chance like this. Nonchalantly I start to unbutton my shirt.
"Wh-what are y-you d-doing?" Fereshta stammers.
"Gonna make it easy for you, change into my dress."
"B-but you wouldn't?" she grabs my tiny wrists in her immense hands, "now you stop it and behave!!"
I see Malali's amused look, then it vanishes. Quiet matter-of-fact tone, "test her blood." Hmm how did Malali know that? "Every era carries different vaccines, different toxins. If she really is from the future, her blood will be at least a bit different."
The three of us head to the clinic. Three dozen women, mostly civvies in line, but I'm breezed right in.
Maryam the nurse stares at me with awe, "just don't believe it, would make you immune from everything from AIDS to bubonic plague to radiation sickness to malaria to dental caries."
Fereshta blushes, "sorry we took your time, back to your patients." Gentle smile to me, "you and me gotta talk for real now."
My face musta given it away. As we leave the crowd, Fereshta asks, "Lt Persaud, what is your first name?"
"Indira."
"Well Indira, so you were hoping we'd do it. No such luck, not now."
By now I'm crying. Malali hugs me as we walk back.
Resuming our seats, Fereshta asks, "so why a BA in history? Why not something more marketable?"
I may as well give the truth, they'll soon enough figure it, "first choice, wanted to teach. Entry panel rejected me. Called up my med records, autism diagnosed. Second choice, accounting, didn't get in that year cuz all the bigshots' kids grabbed it. Third choice, pharmacy, rejected because of height. It was study something or off to New Guinea to do peacekeeping." I spit out the rest, "da**ed bureaucrats, 3/4 inch too short and now look where I am." By now I'm crying. Malali hugs me and Fereshta passes me a tissue.
Fereshta looks contrite, "tell me, how'd you do in math?"
"A all the way, high school and university. Got calculus and advanced statistics."
Malali smiles, "well the shortage is greatest in math."
Fereshta, "kid, I been listening to your accent. Wierd combo of Russian, German and Indian. No way you'd be a good English teacher. But math, no problem. Join us, you'd be a Sgt. Sorry bout the demotion."
"You must understand my legal position. I may be shipwrecked but I'm still in the officer corps. Any form of work would be ok, but to bear arms would be treasonable."
Fereshta groans, "you're reading us wrong. Tiny security patrols only. 9/10 of members unarmed and so would you be."
"Well in that case, I could."
Malali and I leave. She gently says, "Indira, don't go reading too much into all that."
"How so?"
"Fershta has an odd sense of humor. She wouldn't have shot you. In fact, she reads Russian, would know it's close to the Russian alphabet, but not exact."
I don't reply, feel disappointed.
"What is it with you Indians? Never met one who believed life was worth the powder to blow it to Hades. Seem to all view it as some horrible joke the gods are pulling."
"Oh yeah, let's turn that around. How come y'all are such a buncha Pollyannas? Surely you can see"
She interrupts, "chill Indira, get a girlfriend, you'll feel lots better."