Space-Time of Death: an Al Squires of the Protectorate Novel

Ch. 12.1: Pap's Hollywood (Murder?) Mystery Tour

Okay, before I start this chapter, I promised to tell you what I was going to say at the end of the last one. And that'd be short. Fingers crossed that I was right:

As I was going to say, it wasn't really an option to go into the Still to play Charades. See, Etheric Affairs frowns upon using the Still within HQ without authorization, so they monitor Still activity within HQ. And we couldn't really give them an explanation why Norah and I needed to go into the Still with Rozz in tow.

Also, I had woken up with enough time to Transmat close to home and get a spare battery from my apartment workshop before '0800 hours.' I know what you're thinking, dear Readers: 'Why not portal into your apartment?' or 'Don't you have a spare battery in that pocket dimension you've connected all your pockets with?' or 'Why not enter the Still and replace the battery there, or ever repair your emitter?' Well, the answer to question one is simple: using a Protectorate portal generator for one's personal traveling service is verboten, except for emergencies.

Question two's answer is that it never occurred to me that I'd need it at the time. No one outside of the Protectorate was supposed to know of the emitter's existence. That's one of the main reasons why I made it both invisible and intangible: so that no potential hostiles would try target the emitter for their advantage should they somehow learn about my Lodestone status. How Grammie-Time knew about it in the first place, I didn't know, but the fact that she did know disturbed me. On a positive note, the incident taught me to be more prepared in the future. After that, I made sure a have extra batteries of all kinds.

As for question three, that's where that other Still-related thing I mention comes in: do you remember what happened in the hospital after I officially met Norah, when I was sucked into the Still just as the soda machine was dispensing my soda? There's your answer: machines don't function once you're in the Still unless they've been calibrated to function or brought with you. Because the Still technically exists outside of Time as we know it, most uncalibrated machines either stop in mid-function like everything and everyone else, or they overload or break down the moment one tries to use them. Long story short, the tools in my workshop are calibrated, but the elevators at the Mannimore Arms aren't. Remember, I live on the tenth floor. Need I say more? No? Good! Oh and, quick fun fact: Some forms of tech from Blando-Worlds are more Still-friendly than others, but it depends on the technological advancement and resources of said Blando-World.

OK, that covers all that extra stuff. And I seem to have kept my promise as well. More or less. On with the narrative.

On second thought, I doubt that none of you want to read or hear the Lt. Col. prattle on, dear Readers. Just as much as I don't want to relive it, come to think of it. So, for the sake of both brevity and our collective sanities, let me summarize the debriefing:

When both groups reconvened at the agreed upon time, the Lt. Col. resumed his debrief of the subject of our next Prevention. The potential victim in question was Hannah Shaw, who was stationed in Elizabethan London, who assumed the cover of a lady-in-waiting of a wife of some mid-level lord in Queen Elizabeth I's court. During this part, the Lt. Col. showed us a picture of her: a very pretty woman in her mid-to-late-twenties in Elizabethan dress; with curly strawberry-blonde hair and expressive wide eyes that were a light-blue/grayish color.

From what the Lt. Col. told us, our girl went to Hollywood during the 1940's for her R&R. When reading form her R&R request form, the Lt. Col. told us that she wanted to 'sight-see and go autograph hunting.' However, there was something about his micro-expressions and tone of voice that said that he didn't believe her statement. Maybe it had something to do with the case, maybe it didn't. I figured that we'd get a better feel about that as soon as we had proverbial boots on the ground.