Work Text:
A researcher does a crossword. He chooses the sad words first. I call him a pessimist. He says “it takes one to know one”.
I see him later and he gives me a mint candy.
***
Somewhere in the northern tundra, a Foundation investigator tells a story about his encounters with a large Critter to a group of fascinated children living in a disenfranchised village on the periphery of civilisation. He gives their junk names and stages a performance with the ephemeral figurines. He gives the children back their painted glass bottles and cardboard cutouts before leaving with a promise to come back soon. His entire family fell victim to one of the first Storms.
I see him later and he gives me a bottle cap with a rudimentary face drilled into it. I put it in my pocket for safekeeping.
***
An opera singer harmonises with a Miemeng bird's flute. She asks not where he learned to play such a lovely instrument. He asks not where she learned to maintain such a lovely pitch. They sing together, filling the Wilderness with a song that has no name, no origin, no purpose and no prose.
I think about them later while I write my reports.
***
A pirate argues with a glob of sentient ferrofluid. She insists that her contract of employment is illegal and it’s immoral to expect her to work work work without any play play play. The ferrofluid points at the pirate’s signature on the contract and demands that she finish her caseload. The pirate demands incentivisation to continue working. The ferrofluid says no.
I interrupt them; I have an assignment that will take me down the River Thames, and I need a pirate who is familiar with the lay of the land.
Later, the pirate joins me. We share a cold bottle of Dr Papper while she laments about the woes of employed life and working under a dictator.
***
A disgraced admiral who has his name etched into Zeno’s Hall of Merit and a young, mortal, no-name, no-fangs vampire sit together in silence. They have slept with the dead and have yet to make peace with the living. They think about their parents, their comrades, their friends. The vampire falls asleep. The admiral leaves his jar of fireflies beside her and drapes his coat over her.
***
I sit on my own, with a tepid cup of tea abandoned on the end table next to me. My watch is heavy on my wrist. In 18 minutes, I will announce the coming of the next Storm.
I am the Timekeeper. I protect time, history, safety, and the people around me.
I try not to think about who will protect me.
For now… I close my eyes. My suitcase is a safe haven for everyone within it, and I can afford ten minutes of sleep.