The Disregard of Timekeeping

For a girl of relatively diminutive stature, Wight had an impressive array of levers and valves at her disposal. One such valve suddenly erupted in a shrill hiss of steam, and a nearby control panel lit up like Solstice Day.

“Zounds!” Wight cursed, turning to the towering viewscreen at the head of the room. After quickly studying its readout, she bounded across the room to the hissing valve, using a set of steps to reach its handle and pushing off with all her strength for enough momentum to shut the valve. Behind her, an even smaller man in a white coat appraised every move.

Wight’s feet hit the floor as the lever finally yielded. Large, cumbersome gears at the rear of the room lumbered back into motion and the hissing subsided. On the viewscreen she watched a world’s time line resetting, its waveform shifting from a dangerous blue to a more normal orange.

The white coat man laughed. “Well done, Wight Moxon!” he said. “I was afraid your generation had lost the gift, but it appears we have a new Keeper.”

View this story's 6 comments.