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   Chapter 21 No.21

The Time Saving Agency By Christina Engela Characters: 5334

Updated: 2018-06-29 12:01


Wasn't all that supposed to be impossible? Then again, that's what they said about Deanna when the first colonists arrived all those years ago… it was impossible. How could he blame them?

Looking round, Gary noticed the handrail at the counter had lost its shine and had gone dark blue at the places where Xyl's hands had allegedly held it. A broken cappuccino cup lay smashed on the cobbles, a white chalk outline drawn around it by the cops who had afterwards decided this was just some kind of stupid prank and left only a few minutes before. The second the Deputy heard it was about the funny bloke who emitted blue sparks, he angrily asked Albrecht if he was anti Puritan and turned off the flashing lights before speeding off in his squad car (the one with 'S.O.D' printed on the doors).

"Why don't you believe me?" Albrecht murmured, with no audible accent. "Why don't you believe me? It happened… the guy had two cups of Hot Stuff Blend! Two, I tell you!'

Poor old Albrecht. This latest shock had thrown his accent out altogether. The footprints beckoned him hither. Gary patted poor Albrecht on the shoulder, and went on his way.

The ad-streamer above the serving hatch was still advertising 'Buggers and Chips – only 4.95!' Albrecht winced every time the bit that read 'Ask about our flavored coffees! Specials on Hot Stuff Blend! TWO for the price of ONE!' flashed around. First the shoplifting incident that very morning, now this… unexplained event. If things really went around happening in threes, he was starting to worry about what would happen next.

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Anyone w

billions of lives, considering the entire time stream from end to end – well, at least, the known bits – depended on them managing it effectively and efficiently. Otherwise the happened could easily be meddled away to unhappen.

On a daily basis, countless futures ended up on the cutting room floor, no matter which way he – er, cut it. It was curious how, with time, he'd become immune to the awe he'd felt initially. As a rookie his first assignment was to prevent a passenger train from derailing in the American Northwest in the late 20th century. After getting run over by that same train four times out of five, it lost its impact somewhat. That was where he first started to dislike reruns (and trains). He supposed the whole experience could be seen like that, globally. Sooner or later everything, no matter how impressive, no matter how grand or complicated or stupendous, would eventually just fade away into a gray monotone commonplace nonevent. It was just a job. A well paid job, with little – well, time for other things – but still just a job.

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