Interlude 0.1

Hans’ footsteps echoed through the large, sparse hallway. Thick, metal doors lined the walls at regular intervals. Some were open, most were closed.

On the right of each door were three digital clocks. The top clock was the same next to each door, but the ones underneath it were all keyed to different times. There seemed to be no pattern between the different clocks.

There was a quiet hum throughout the hall, a kind of deep vibration that permeated the entire place. Not many people who worked there knew what caused it. Hans didn’t know what it was, but he was going to talk to someone who was a high enough rank to have access to that information.

He was going to speak to Major General Siegfried.

Hans was mildly worried. He knew that the information he was carrying in the small, manila folder close to his chest was important. Very important. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to gain the ire of Major General Siegfried by delivering it in the wrong way.

He turned toward a door on his left. The uppermost clock, like all of the other uppermost clocks, read 18:24:23. The middle one said 23:42:56, and the bottom one read 23:43:00. Hans held his ID card in front of the scanner on the left of the door, and the large metal door slid up into the ceiling with a soft whooshing noise.

The inside of the office sharply contrasted the cold metallic exterior of the hallway. There was a large, cushioned plaid couch, which looked like somebody had sewn together several kilts into the form of a sofa. There was also a rocking chair and a plain looking velvet armchair.

The walls were practically lined with bookshelves. All sorts of books were present, from old, leather-bound tomes, to soft-cover novels, to collections of e-books on various tablets.

All in all, it looked more like an elderly grandmother’s house than a high-ranking official’s office.

Hans sat down on the couch, making sure to not bend the envelope he held. He laid it across his knees, resting his hands on top of it. He knew he would be waiting at least several minutes.

Hans was always on time. Major General Siegfried was not. He always had something more important happening.

Hans started to tap his right leg up and down. He hated waiting, and yet he was basically Major General Siegfried’s assistant. It infuriated him. With their line of work, it was uncanny that someone who had such a loose grasp of timing managed to be such a high rank. Yet somehow, their relationship worked. Hans made up for all the time that General Major Siegfried used up with his tardiness.

After around ten minutes, Hans got up and started pacing. The soft brown shag carpet muffled his footsteps. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door opened again. Standing in the doorway was Major General Siegfried.

Major General Siegfried cut an… imposing figure. Six foot seven, well over two hundred and fifty pounds, he was absolutely the most terrifying man Hans had ever laid eyes upon. It didn’t help that Siegfried tried his best to cultivate that image. He kept the top of his head shaved, but let his facial hair grow unencumbered by comb or brush. His eyebrows were two enormous black bushes of tangled hair, coming down until they were almost even with the tops of his eyes.

When Hans first met him, he wondered who had put this monster of a man in charge of recruitment. That wonder disappeared as soon as he opened his mouth. Major General Siegfried had a silver tongue. It was no wonder that the organization sent him out to recruit the confused new members stuck in loops or unable to cope with themselves.

That was what Hans was here for. A short psychological profile was inside the manila folder. The profile was for a potential new recruit named Marc Antony. He was an interesting development. As of yet there were no members of OTS who had his particular talents. Hans couldn’t really figure out what was useful about it, but the higher-ups had requested he be brought in, so Hans was bringing him in.

“Hello Hans, what have you got for me today?” Siegfried asked, his voice deep, almost like a melodic foghorn.

“Another recruit,” Hans replied, “I was told to tell you to collect him.” He handed over the manila envelope, and Siegfried looked through it.

“Hm,” Siegfried looked troubled, “A bit young isn’t he? Are we really recruiting this early?”

“Apparently,” Hans said, “He’s stuck in a loop, so we have to interfere. Otherwise we won’t have a later chance to get him”

“Alright. I’ll get him. Unless you want to come along for the ride, I’d leave the room.”

Hans nodded, and left through the open door. It closed behind him. He turned and looked at the clocks next to the door. The top one read 18:43:02. The middle one read 19:06:05. The bottom one read 19:13:00.

He shook his head. The people in charge didn’t understand the difficulty of field missions. Giving Major General Siegfried less than ten minutes to collect a recruit was basically madness. Especially since it was Major General Siegfried, who was notoriously bad at keeping to schedule. Granted, it didn’t matter much in the OTS base, but getting to and from places in the right time frame wasn’t a given for him.

Hans walked away from Major General Armstrong’s office, down the long, bland hallway. After a few minutes, silent except for the clicking of Hans’ shoes and that loud, vibrating hum, Hans turned left. He passed a large sign, but didn’t glance at it twice. Why should he? It wasn’t like he didn’t know the name of the place he worked.



He thought of the kid that would be coming here soon. He’d probably be interested in the sign. He’d definitely never heard of the Organization for Temporal Stability before.