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

Ch. 16.1: When We FINALLY Use What's Missing to Find What's Missing.

This was the first time I'd been to Ouroboros HQ- at least the HQ of that particular universe- but it had lived up to my expectations. Like the agents that work there, the place itself was one big anachronism: desk with old-timey rotary phones and high-tech computers (by the 1980's standards, at least); rooms and hallways with aesthetics that varied from the 1950's all the way to the 1980's; pneumatic tubes snaking close to the ceiling, constantly rattling with the cylinders moving this way and that. In other words, it was like someone took the aesthetics of at least two other time-travel organizations that may be known to some of you, dear Readers- which I may or may not have mentioned in the past- and mashed them up to make up Ouroboros HQ's general vibe.

However, one thing that was their own thing was that they had no windows; at least no windows that viewed the exterior of the place. Sure, they had fake windows here and there that show holographic projections of landscapes to keep the agents from going stir-crazy, but that was it. The reason for that was because each branch of Ouroboros prefers to keep the exact locations of their HQs completely top secret, even from their own agents. We could've been underground, on a space-station, somewhere in the future of their Earth, or even in the past. For all we knew, it could be in some rare variation of the Still that allows more than one color at a time, and we'd never know it. Honestly, I didn't really care where or when their HQ was at the moment of arrival. All I cared about was getting to their morgue so I could shed some light on this whole situation we'd found ourselves in.

"You guys sure have an eclectic looking place," I said to Lady Lane as our group walked down the bland hallways to the morgue. "And this is from a guy who works with aliens, Demons, and vampires."

"Much like it's agents," Lady Lane commented, "our Headquarters has developed its own style."

"No offense, Your Ladyship, but I thought Ouroboros was from the future," Norah said before nodding over to an office space. "How come the computers look like they're from the 80's?"

Lady Lane gave Norah a sly grin. "The key words in your question are 'look like,' my dear," she answered. "They're highly advanced bits of technology. They only look like that to help our agents practice using them and other archaic technology when out in the field. There's even a couple of wings that insist on using only typewriters and even pen and paper." She pointed up to the tubes overhead. "Hence the tubes."

"We are not here to give our allies a tour of our facility, Senora Lane," Jorge huffed while looking ahead. He glanced over his shoulder at me. "We're only here because this tanto thinks he solved some hidden mystery," he said with an incredulous scoff. "The only mystery I see is the mystery of why we are humoring him in the first place," he added as he faced forward. "Anyway, the Morgue isn't far," he said as he pointed to a nearby direction signs "At least our Headquarters does not change the location of its departments capriciously."

"Yeah, but at least ours is aesthetically cooler looking," I rebutted.

We turned a couple of corridors until saw Lt. Col. Bainbridge-Smythe, Tom, and Rozz standing at the end of a corridor, in front of the two big double doors with the word 'Morgue' stenciled in blocky letters across it. The only one there was Maddie. More on that in a bit.

Tom was the first to see us coming around the corner. "Ciao, Paisanos," he said he waved at us.

"Ciao, Tomaso," I waved back. "Not that I care, but where's Maddie?"

"She's gone see Sylvie at the safe house," Tom replied, his accent gone. "She's going to go through some paperwork to get approved, so she told us to go ahead without her."

"Whatcha, mates?" Rozz said in greeting as soon as we got closer. "Did you 'ave fun at that nutter bird's flat?"

Clint scoffed. "Leave it to a Demon to call searching a serial killer's place 'fun'," he said.

"More 'enlightening' than 'fun,' Councilor," I stated. "At least somewhat."

"We learned a lot of stuff about our girl, Rozz, darling," Mik explained. "But not an exact location where she or her current victim is now, I'm afraid."

"We already know Agent Shaw's location," the Lt. Col. bluntly replied in a form of a greeting. He turned and pointed to the Morgue entrance. "She's right behind those doors; waiting to be autopsied! Because she is now officially lost to us!" The agents standing beside him started to bow their heads before the Lt Col added, "Save the moment of silence for later!" As soon as my group were close enough to his, he turned his attention to me. "I hope that this isn't a waste of neither mine nor our time, Squires," he said to me, sternly. "I only agreed to this out of the respect I have for your Chief, such as it is."

"I can assure you, sah," I told him while looking him in the eye, "that I wouldn't be doing this unless this wasn't necessary for our mission." I leaned in a bit closer to him. "Possibly for the necessity of your organization," I added softly.

The Lt. Col. arched an eyebrow at me, not looking that impressed. "It bloody well better be," he said as a thinly-veiled threat as he turned to enter the Morgue.

"Just a moment, sah," I said to stop him in his tracks. "There's something I have to say first."

The Lt. Col. lowered his head and made a heavy sigh. "Very well," he said as he turned around to face me. "Just be a good chap, and don't take so long!"

"Before we go in," I said to everyone as we stood outside the doors of the Morgue, "I have to warn you all in advance that I'm going to say and do certain things." I looked around at Team O. "Things that you folks will ...disapprove of. But please understand, that I must take these extremes to back up the seriousness of what I'm going to tell you in there." I turned to look at my fellow Protectorate agents. "That's why I need you got to promise me, no matter what happens in there, you keep them for stopping what I'm doing or calling in more agents to stop me. Within reason, of course. We're still allies."

"Y'all got it, Lil Joe," Clint said with the tip of his hat.

"We have your back, Al darling," Mik confirmed.

"As long as you know what you're doing," Norah said, uncertain.

"Just as long as whatever you're planning ain't gonna harm relations between The Protectorate and Ouroboros, yeah?" Rozz asked me. "As a lawyer, I strongly advise against you doing that."

"As do I," Bainbridge-Smythe said while giving me the Hairy Eyeball. "You can make an arse of yourself all you want," he added while waving a finger at me. "But if you think that I'll stand by while you destroy the alliance between our two organizations on my watch, then you can bloody think again, old son!"

"Rest assured, sah," I said as I chuckled nervously. "What I have planned won't cause a rift between our two organizations." Well, my calculations were certain it wouldn't come to that. About 75% certainty, to be specific. But I wasn't going to tell them that.

I clapped my hands together. "Well, everyone ready to go in?" I asked the group.

"You know that we are, Squires," the Lt. Col. said with a huff. "Quit stalling and let's get on with your so-called epiphany."

I shrugged, then stepped aside for him. "After you, sah!" I said with a flippant salute.

Bainbridge-Smythe only muttered his discontent under his breath as he stomped past me and went through the doors. The rest of us followed him a (subjective) second afterwards.