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I was an out-of-time Intern at RATS and I would act like one. The out-of-time part, not necessarily the Intern part. But you get the picture.
"Do you remember the Orion on the launchpad?" I asked the agents. "The one that was emitting liquid oxygen like smoke from a freight train and looked like it had crash landed?" The agents said nothing. "It was a time-travelling machine. I'd just used it to come from the 23rd century. The guy you saw me with, he's a Time Surgeon. I think he might have mentioned that. We were fixing Time, and you just got in the way. The man responsible for blasting a hole in the VAB and killing your people was our target. We've spent the better part of the past two months, my time, chasing him. As of this morning, though — again my time — he has been dealt with. But Time is not linear, gentlemen. Time is one big fucked up loop. Who's to say the son of a bitch won't come back again? I mean, when you think about it, just because the latest version of Sergei's been killed doesn't mean an earlier version couldn't show up tomorrow and cause another mess." I shook my head, disgusted at the idea. "Shit," I muttered. "What's the bloody point, right? We're all at the whim of Time, and Time's a fucking bitch."
Carter and Dawson shared another look, then. But I was beyond caring what they thought of me.
"You know," I said, just talking for the sake of talking now, I think. "I never believed in time travel. But now I know it's true, I can't stop thinking in circles. Nothing is linear for me anymore. So, you do what you gotta do, guys. It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing you do to me matters anymore. If Time doesn't like it, it'll just fuck up your day like it's already fucked up your day twice. Or is it three times? I guess me returning here, now, is number three. Things happen in threes, right?" I offered them both a crazy person grin. "Do your worst. I'm done." I raised my voice. "You hear that, Time?! I'm bloody done!Yousort out this fucking mess!"
The interview room sounded very quiet, then. I'm not sure Dawson and Carter moved an inch. I wanted to laugh at that. They looked a little shocked, a little unsure of what to do with me. They even might have looked a little scared.
I mean, I kept escaping and coming back again, didn't I? They must have been thinking, what would she do next? Was time travel real? Was she talking through a hole in her head? I'd disappeared on them twice. I'd turned up with an Orion, thrown chunks of cement at their car and then flashed out of sight as if by magic. I was talking like a madwoman, but somewhere deep inside them, I was sure that I made sense.
I could almost hear the Twilight Zone music inside their heads.
Not knowing what to make of me or what to do with me now, they simply stared.
And it was then, in the quiet of their confusion, that we all heard the shouts.
"It's heeeeeere!" I sang out of tune.
"What's here?" Dawson demanded, drawing his gun like the professional gun-toter he was.
I sat back in my chair, my handcuffs rattling against the desk, and said matter-of-factly, "Time, gentlemen. Time is here."
