Fix it in time

Chapter 3: White Lies and Dark Poetry



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Loud steps, fast and excited, echoed through the halls of the timemasters. After making sure she was alone, Renet leaned casually against one of the huge pillars. Her eyes were caught by an unnerving black stone gargoyle. He cowered on his pedestal, fanged teeth bared and his oddly shaped head slightly tilted. The hollow eyes above the flat nose seemed to stare at the timestress.

“Don’t look at me like that!” she growled. “This is, like, totally for a good cause.”

Unsurprisingly, the statue remained silent and Renet sighed. Still convinced to do the right thing, she nevertheless felt like a criminal. Sneaking through the old, awe-inspiring halls like a thief, rummaging the archives like a secret agent and feigning innocence whenever she met a sentient inhabitant of the 79th Dimension of Null-time, had made her paranoid and – since she now picked up fights with lifeless objects – obviously a little crazy.

But when she looked at the list in her hand, her spirit was lifted. Proudly, she took in the result of hours that she had spent in the archives, researching Donatello’s achievements and accomplishments. The list contained his encounters, his experiments and his doings that have had little to no effects on the world or the universe. Things she could mess… interfere with without causing too much uproar or damage and – more importantly – without being caught and grounded by Lord Simultaneous.

“Renet!”

She cursed. She should have known better than to think of the devil.

“Lord Simultaneous, ah, hello! It’s, like, a total surprise to see you! Awesome! I thought you were busy, like, reeeeeeeally busy!”

“I am,” he sighed. “But even I need a minute to breathe now and then.”

“No problem! We are timemasters. Have a minute and take another for the road.” Chuckling nervously, Renet hid her list behind her back.

Her master raised an eyebrow but could not help a little smile.

“Well, I guess, it is not the worst time-joke I ever heard.”

Renet smiled back. Over the years she had learned to appreciate Lord Simultaneous. He was strict but fair and when she really really really needed him, he was there. Sort of like Splinter for the turtles. He would not say it directly, but he cared for her and she knew. The feeling was mutual and she felt bad for deceiving him. But she felt even more that she owed Donatello what she was doing.

“Did you encounter any problems while I was gone?” Lord Simultaneous finally asked.

“What? No! Everything is running, like, totally smooth!” To emphasize her words she made a wavelike movement with her arms. The motion was accompanied by the rustling of the paper in her hands, catching the timelord's attention.

“What is this?” he wanted to know.

“That? Nothing!” Renet hid the list behind her back again.

“Renet, we can have long philosophical discussions about the nature of ‘nothing’, but whatever ‘nothing’ is, it is not white, rectangular and made of paper!”

“Uh…”

“Renet…” He grew impatient and Renet felt panic rising inside her chest.

“Lord Simultaneous, it...”

“What is it?”

“It’s a…”

“Yes?”

“A…a…”

“I am listening.”

“A…a poem!”

Dumbfounded, he looked at her.

“What?”

Renet nodded.

“You remember when I had this embarrassing breakdown? I cried like a baby because of all the tragedy I saw in time?”

Lord Simultaneous’ gaze softened. “I do. And if you ever feel that way again, I hope you come to me if you need an ear or my guidance. But I do not see how this is related to…”

“You said, I needed a way to deal with all that so it would not get me down.”

“And you chose poetry?” Incredulous, he stared at his student.

“Yes,” she lied. “It helps, like, soooo much. I can totally cope when I write.”

“If it helps you…” The timelord obviously doubted that but did not want to sound discouraging. “Can I see?”

“No!” Renet all but shouted and looking at his shocked expression, repeated softly, “No, I am sorry, Lord Simultaneous, but this is very… ehm… private…and personal,…and I am soooo not talented… so it is, like, totally embarrassing.”

“I would never judge you,” he promised and added with a chuckle, “I chose you as a timestress not as an author, so…”

Lord Simultaneous stopped speaking, apparently sensing something. Immediately his face changed and Renet recognized the look he had when he stared through time and space.

“Carson? Again?” he exclaimed. “One would think one exploding time machine is enough to learn a lesson, but apparently it is not.”

Sighing, he turned to Renet one last time. “I need to leave, you go back to your tasks. When times are quieter we can speak about the burden we share. It is easier if we do not carry it alone.”

Renet nodded with misty eyes. She felt bad for lying, but she would take his offer. Just because she did not really resort to poetry to ease her mind, it did not mean that her mind did not need to be eased from time to time.

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