When Kiya ’ported herself and Darla down to the corridor outside the Troubleshooters’ Office in Hilbert’s Backstage Hotel, she was surprised at what she found. “Closed?” she asked, reading the notice on the door. “How can they be closed?”
“Um, maybe because they’re not open?” Darla ventured.
“Nonsense, Darla, the Troubleshooters’ Office is always open during normal business hours. Even if D.J. and Lizzie are out on a case there’s always someone here to handle drop-in callers.” Kiya tried the doorknob. It was locked. She leaned on the buzzer for several seconds. It buzzed, but no one came to the door.
“Excuse me, Mom,” asked Darla, “what’s this in the notice about ‘Office Time’?”
“The backup service, based in the future,” Kiya told Darla impatiently. “It handles the routine cases and redirects people with appointment slips and off-hours callers to open timeslots. But damn it, the office should be open. In fact, he assured me D.J. and Lizzie would be here!”
“Who did, Mom?” Darla asked.
Suddenly her mother had a trapped look. “Oh damn,” she muttered. “I should have realized I couldn’t keep it to myself once your sister wormed herself and you into the situation.” She took a breath, then let it out. “No,” she said, as if changing her mind. “You’ll just have to wait. You’ll find out when they do.” She indicated the door. “If they’re even in, that is.”
The upper half of the office door bore a window of frosted glass, and just then it darkened slightly for a moment, as if someone had passed between it and an inner light source.
“Someone’s in,” Darla observed.
Kiya nodded. She rapped sharply on the glass and waited.
Still no response.
Now Kiya was starting to get angry. “They can’t do this to me,” she growled. “I’m a Troubleshooter too, damn it!”
She put a hand to her hip—for a weapon, Darla wondered? “Mom, what are you going to d—”
The door pinged, and suddenly a miniature robot appeared before it, floating in the air at about chest level. “I am sorry,” it said, “but I am directed to tell you that you are out of luck.”
“I’m—!” Kiya was speechless for a moment in astonishment. “Why, you miserable little Transformer! Do you have any idea who I am?!?”
“You are Mistress Kiya Jaeger,” the robot confirmed. “I have so informed the chief Troubleshooters. Nonetheless I am directed—”
“Here’s a direction,” Kiya snarled. “I’m coming in anyway! Tell them I’m not taking no for an answer!”
The robot obediently vanished, and the sorceress stood there fuming, drumming her foot impatiently against the floor.
Moments later it was back. “I am directed,” it stated, “to inform you that quote we are closed we are busy if your problem is that vital to invoke Office Time that is what it is there for damn it unquote. My sincere apologies Mistress Kiya, and if you would deign not to consume me in an enveloping fireball the favor would be greatly appreciated.”
Kiya, who had raised her hands to do exactly that, let them drop again. Her mouth quirked. “Thank you, Transformer,” she said. “Indeed, I should not blame the servants for the faults of the masters. And it occurs to me that Anna would never forgive me if I started toasting her collection.”
“Come again?” Darla asked.
“I had the honor to be a former possession of Mistress Anna Jaeger,” the Transformer explained. “It was she who animated myself and my compatriots and presented us to the Troubleshooters’ Office to augment its security.”
Go back - Go to the parent episode.
Mon Aug 23 15:36:39 2004
Linking Enabled