Driving home after a bad day, Danielle "Dan" Lent is transported from her car into a subterranean laboratory. Confused and disoriented, she has no choice but to trust the stranger Ric, who claims to be a time agent. He recruits Dan to investigate il...
Driven by instinct, Dan and Ric duck behind the giant bulk of the TA, snuggling up in its cover. Ric shifts his grip on her hand and wraps an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. The butterflies in her stomach make it hard to ignore how much her body enjoys the contact. The perfect moment to develop a crush. Like in the silly movies where the blonde heroine falls for the super-agent during a firefight. And of course, they safe the world.
Without loosening his grip, Ric kneels down to peek around the machine, pulling her down to the floor with him. With his free hand, he fumbles the box out of his pocket. Dan suppresses a hiss when he almost drops it.
"Sorry." His whisper is so low she only hears the apology because his head almost touches hers. Ric places the box on the floor beside the TA, ensuring the blinking led points away from the window side of the room. Then he pries a tiny earplug out of his right ear. Dan accepts it with a frown but swallows her disgust and presses the chewing-gum-like mass into her own ear. The transmission is distorted at first, but as soon as the foam expands to fit her auditory canal, she can understand the conversation of two male voices.
"...yesterday, and now we're still stuck here. But there's nothing to be done about it. Let's find this triple cursed malfunction. I don't want to witness the big boss all worked up again."
"I doubt it's a technical issue. Bloody typical the bosses blame us first. What if the target calculations are faulty? If one of her precious eggheads made a mistake and got one minor parameter wrong, we'll never succeed to locate the chick."
"Whom are you telling? But the chief insists the numbers are correct. So it must be a technical glitch. I never worked with living people before. Guess we can't exclude we overlooked something."
The mumble of the other man drowns in a metallic clatter. Dan tries in vain to imagine what happens in the adjacent room. A questioning glance at Ric earns her a head-shake. He releases her shoulders and lowers himself further down to the floor to peek around the cylindrical TA. Dan holds her breath until he turns back, takes her hand and whispers into her ear, his voice barely audible.
"They are dismantling the transfer cot. I agree there is a high probability it's the source of the glitch."
Before Dan finds time to enquire what a transfer cot is supposed to do, the first voice with the deeper pitch picks up the conversation.
"Call me a Smurf, but this looks neat and correct. Power supply and energy fields are stable. Perhaps it's the connection to the TA or the machine itself."
"Crap. I hate to work in the devil's chamber while the thing is powered up."
"Stop acting the drama queen, Steff. Even you should have gotten it into your thick skull the time radiation stories are superstitious drivel..." The voice trails off, and the transmission changes to a scratching noise.
Dan leans in to whisper into Ric's ear. "Are they moving furniture?"
"More likely the cot, they had it turned over. But—" He interrupts himself when the dialogue picks up again.
"I heard that back in the twenty-first century, the masses believed technical gadgets harmed their health. They were afraid of simple things like cell phones, and time travel was worse. Lent proved the contrary in her first trials, but there were uproars and protests."
"Ah yes? And why did they glue weird pictures to their machines, ugly drawings with a bearded monk, a skull, and an hourglass? For decoration and because beards are sexy?"
"Just a harmless custom. Religion was important back then. Think of the worshippers their politicians collected on the internet. Come on, let's pack up and move on."
For a while, the metallic clatter of tools is the only thing to be heard. Then the last speaker picks up his thread. "You know, Felix said the guy on the pictures was a saint or some other bloke they revered. He was responsible for protecting the machines from malfunctions like what we got here."
"Why don't we tape his picture to ours then? If it works, it could save us a lot of trouble."
His companion only snorts.
While in the other room the metallic noises pick up, Dan whispers a name. Ric leans in and asks for an explanation. "Hieronymus. The holy Hieronymus was pictured with an hourglass and a skull sometimes, symbols for his meditations concerning time and death. There is a famous engraving by Albrecht Dürer, 16th century..."
Ric stares at her aghast, and she trails off. "You're a walking encyclopaedia, Doctor Lent. I'm impressed."
"I studied a few semesters of art history. It's a long story."
"Can't wait to hear it. But let's hope the two idiots leave first."
She hopes the same since her position becomes more strained by the minute. To stretch her legs would bring release to her knees, but she doesn't dare to move. Ric shifts uneasy, probably plagued by the same problem. Then the screens flicker in sync with the lights in the adjacent room, and he pulls her to her feet. Dan leans into his firm grip, a welcome anchor in this reality while the agitated voices of the technicians drone on, enhanced by Ric's magic box.
"What's up, Ken? Did you cut the power?"
"Why should I? Besides, the lights here have no connection with the TA. Boss insisted on separate circuits to prevent interactions. We sure have a major problem. Let's check the control room. And spare me the rant about the hell chamber."
Steff grumbles something incomprehensible. When the lights stabilise, Dan glances at Ric. His eyes are wide. "They are coming. Quick."
He picks up his spy box and pulls her into the back of the room, where two consoles leave a dark, unused corner. It is a close fit and far from a perfect hiding place. Squeezing herself into the tight space, Dan pulls one of the swivel chairs in front of the hideout and crouches down under the desk beside her partner, hoping for luck.
To the right of the big glass pane, a small door opens, and the ceiling lights bathe the room in glaring white brightness. Steps squeak across the synthetic floor. Dan barely dares to breathe, glad when Steff's voice breaks the tense silence.
"Damn job. I curse the day I signed up for this shit."
"Shut up and look for anomalies, something that explains the malfunction before we get another mouthful from upstairs."
"Aye, Ken, on it." The footsteps approach the hideout, and Dan holds her breath.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I got laid by that— Shite, man. Have a look at this."
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