Twisted Time

18 - Exposed

The control room, 01:29

Caught in the tiny space beneath the desk, Dan bites her lips, loathing herself for an unforgivable mistake. A loud metallic clatter is followed by Steff's muttered curses. "Blasted valve. Whoever assembled this deserves to be here when it explodes."

Dan flinches and presses her body against Ric, aware his hand on her arm is trembling. Is it possible his nerves show too? Hers are strung close to breaking.

"On it, ma'am. Ken out." The technician signs off his conversation with the boss lady and inhales. "Damn it, Steff, shut up while I'm talking, and take care with that wrench. If the higher-ups think we're not up to the job, they'll send he thugs after us."

"Sorry, chief, it's hot in here. The wrench just slipped. Still, this installation is a piece of junk. The amateur who tightened the lock nuts was drunk or half-witted, or both. One could almost conclude—"

"Ken?" The female voice on the loudspeaker hisses, sharper than before. "What's the clamour down there? Any serious problems?" Dan imagines a giant serpent, venom dripping from her viscious teeth.

"No problems, boss. Steff dropped a tool. We're close, give us a few more minutes, and we'll get the TA back up and running for you."

"I hope so. Deliver a positive status report in ten minutes max. Out."

The silence after the boss' last words hangs in the room like a vile odour. Aware they got off by a hair's breadth, Dan leans her head against Ric's shoulder. She concentrates on the humming of the console to her left to occupy her mind, wondering what it contains. The fact Ric seems on edge too rattles her.

Finally, Ken sighs, not loud, but expressively. The high-speed tapping of his fingers picks up. From Steff's direction, metallic sounds convey his anger as he continues to tighten nuts. "I hope so—stupid bitch." His imitation of their boss' voice is spot on, and Dan suppresses a giggle. "She and her ilk have nowhere enough knowledge to make this invention of the devil fart, but she keeps—"

"Stop it, and finish your job, Steff, you've no idea who's listening."

The technician mumbles something unintelligible and picks up his work, accompanied by more metallic clattering. Seconds tick by, and Dan fights the urge to stretch her legs. The reparation seems to take forever.

Finally, Steff declares it done. "If their cursed TA doesn't work, it's not my fault. I rechecked all the connections and tightened every nut and bolt. Now, every piece is in place and shining. Our problem can't be mechanical, whatever the brains upstairs suspect. I'll pack up my stuff and find myself a healthier environment—and a cup of strong coffee."

"Of course, sweetie. Do that. Probably best to pass by the office and tell them you're done, they'll be forever grateful."

The mocking tone Ken uses does the trick. Steff sighs and sets his heavy toolbox down, sending another jolt through Dan's trembling nerves. The footfalls of the mechanic pacing the room with long strides stop. When he drops into a chair, it groans under his weight.

"Can I do anything to help? I hate sitting around near this weird time transporter thing."
Ken sighs. "I believe the focus is the source of our problems. But the readjustment program was written by a moron. It's riddled with childish mistakes, and I must activate most steps of the process manually."

"Didn't they nick it from Chronos? Hard to believe they don't have access to state of the art programming."

"Sure, but it's an illegal copy. The bloke who stole it probably picked a beta version. Or they sneaked us a faulty piece of software. I wouldn't say this move is beyond them. You know, I've always wondered how we got our hands on this technology in the first place..."

Ken takes up the tapping, and Steff hums an off-key melody. "Steff, please, I try to concentrate. And—could you check the cooling unit? Just got a warning that the core chamber is about to overheat. Values are still inside the green zone, but seeing as we're both stuck here—"

"Okay, better than to sit on my bum and wait for you to release havoc on our heads. The cooler unit itself or the distribution?"

"The unit in the corner over there, I don't think it's connected to our issue, but let's play this safe."
"On my way." Dan strains her ears and follows the echo of his steps as he crosses the room towards their hiding place. The mechanic drops his toolbox inches from Dan's toes.

She grasps Ric's hand, biting her lips so hard it hurts. But Ric frees himself and presses something hard into her palm. Then he closes her fingers around the object, one by one. In the dim light, she recognises his precious multifunction box. Craning her neck, she sends him a questioning glance, eyebrows arched high. Ric only motions for her to stow away the box. Obedient, she nods, and in a slow, careful, almost silent motion, she succeeds in pushing it under the waistband of her jeans.

In the meantime, Steff unscrews the front panel of the humming console to their left. He removes the metal sheet, and the beam of a flashlight moves through a ventilation grill besides Ric's face.  He smiles, the eerie light of the torch distorting his usual mirthful expression.

Steff's voice is close and too loud now. "Seems the fan collected dust, I've got—"

The technician interrupts himself. Dan can't see him from her position, the chair blocking her view. She turns towards Ric, who pushes her behind him with his shoulder. His eyes remain fixed on a point to his left. A cold feeling spreads in Dan's gut.

"Ken, I need you. Now. And you, sonny, get up. But slow and with raised hands."

Ric moves forward, and Dan presses herself into the corner behind him, her arms wrapped around her knees. He's shielding me. If I keep quiet, I might remain undetected.

"Yes, that's lovely." Steff's sharp voice lost its whiny undertone.

Ric struggles to stand up, mastering the task despite his raised hands. His half-turned face, illuminated by the flashlight, looks pale. Dan is sure a weapon is directed at her partner and fears to move. If they catch me, they have won.

Ken's soft voice is quiet, dangerously so. "Who are you, and how did you break into these premises? Come forward, but don't try no tricks."

"Ken, wait, there's another one hiding in the shadows."

Dan is blinded by the torch Steff shines into her face. She closes her eyes, shaking uncontrollably. Even through closed lids, she registers the sudden flickering of the flashlight. A sliver of hope pierces the black veil of fear enveloping her, and a quick peek from lowered lids confirms it: The torch flickers in sync with the ceiling lights.