"Jesus Christ," grumbled George peering through the office door blinds.
"What about'em?" asked Charlie from his chair behind the desk; he was preoccupied with the
mysteries of his electric pencil sharpener.
"And Mohammed," added George racing toward the desk.
"They head'n this way?" asked Charlie with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah, and they don't look happy." George frantically began straightening the desk
automatically as he spoke. "Look busy, would ya."
"The Earth thing?" asked Charlie.
"Probably; I told ya it was a bad idea. No one listens...," he trailed off frustrated with
his arms flailing over his head.
"Told me?" quipped Charlie, "it was your idea!"
"Was not!" snapped George.
"Was too!" Charlie shot back.
"Not..."
"Too..."
"Not..." There was a rap on the door interrupting the volley. "Come in," George said
pleasantly.
"Too," said a pleased Charlie. The door swept open.
"Gentlemen," said Jesus calmly as he motioned Mohammed through the office door; both impeccably
garbed in their finest designer suits.
Charlie sat behind his desk wearing his finest happy-to-see-you smile, and offered a cheerful "Hi
guys."
"Have a seat," said George presenting a chair face forward. "Can it get you anything?" asked
the perfect host of the perfect Host as they all shook hands.
"I would be honored by a glass of water," said Mohammed taking a seat.
"And you Sir?" George inquired of Christ.
"No thank you George," said Christ taking a seat next to Mohammed.
"Be right back," George said speeding off to fetch the water leaving Charlie sitting behind the
desk nervously puttering with a pencil, and doing his best to look the innocent angel.
"Ah... nice weather we're havin', don't you think?" asked Charlie trying to make conversation.
"Very pleasant," agreed Mohammed.
"We always have nice weather here Charlie," informed Christ condescendingly.
"Yes, well...," Charlie was thankfully interrupted by George's return.
"Here we go Sir," George said handing Mohammed the glass. He walked across the room, and half
sat on the corner of the desk. "Now, what can we do for you fellahs?" asked George with a
smile.
"George, Charlie," Christ began as he leaned forward with clasped hands, and elbow on his knees; he
was shaking his head slowly, and looking first at the floor, and then at George and Charlie.
"It seems Cronos has been bending the bosses ear about certain temporal problems down on that Earth
of yours, and She's a little upset. Ya see, She's been sending the Arab here," he aims his
thumb at Mohammed, "and me around to all Earth case workers in your universe to see what's up," he
summed up looking at Mohammed who affirmed with a nod.
"Have you gentlemen heard of a man named Tanis Feek?" asked the prophet picking up his end of this
good cop bad cop interrogation.
"Feet?" misrepeated George with a shrug rolling off his shoulders; he looked to Charlie, who said
in turn, "No... never heard of him. No Feet. Is it important?"
"Maybe," said Mohammed.
"Fick," the saviour interjected, "Not Feet; Fick, F-I-C-K. Tanis Fick. Ever
heard of him?" he asked patiently.
Another shrug from George. "Doesn't ring a bell; Charlie?"
"No, nothing; no Feet or Fick," Charlie said.
"Well...," began Christ leaning back in the chair and adjusting himself for a long diatribe.
He related the details of the troubles caused by the temporal shift recently encountered, and how
the illustrious Mr. Tanis Fick fit into the picture, and what a big and complicated picture it
was. He explained that the Observer launched from Earth at the end of the twentieth century
had become lost on it mission, and wandered aimlessly through space until it was happen upon by a
space time faring race of rather high technology, but limited scope beyond their own needs and long
term goals that they fancied for the greater good of the universal community - or something like
that. After stumbling upon, and capturing the Earth probe, they did with it what to them
seemed only natural, and in keeping with their great and glorious mission; they seeded it -
after much investigation and debate - they seeded it with a special mixture of their precious
genetic material. It just so happens that the genetic material in question is the original
elements, the essence, the seed for the intelligent human life that now inhabits half of the
Earth's solar system. Then they packed the whole thing off, and shot it, and an expeditionary
team a million plus years into Earth's past. When they had finished their little project they
buried the device in what they thought was an impenetrable chamber sunk deep enough in the crust as
to never be found. The whole scheme was working perfectly until Mr. Fick and associates
stumbled upon the chamber recently - their time - and upset the universal apple cart. In
order to set the universal time line back on track, Tanis Fick, and his unwitting accomplice, a Mr.
Mahmud Elshamey, need to be made aware of their intrusion and it's consequences, and be convinced
to help us rectify the situation; their our local boys on the ground.
"So anyway, that's the situation," Christ concluded, "and no matter who was responsible for this
mess, it is our departments job to fix it." He paused, eyeing the desked functionaries.
"I see," said George after a few moments, and still looking clueless, "but what can we do for you
Sir?"
"George, George, George, George, George," Christ again shaking his head, "look, just see what you
boys can dig up on the case. Maybe you guys know somebody, who knows somebody, that knows
something about this or that?" he said in a questioning tone, "Capice?"
Christ continued offering suggestions, "Maybe you two will stumble on to something, Okay?"
Silence. "Remember," he added a little softer, but coercive, "we're a team here; Okay
gentlemen? See what you can come up with; we're all here to back up whatever action you think
appropriate; just get it done," he add with a little definition. He glared first at George,
then at Charlie, and mellowed again into a smile.
It was Mohammed's turn to jump into the mix. "This is of much urgency to the boss Gentlemen,"
he began most gravely, which was his nature not his attitude. "She will be watching the Jesus
and myself," he said bowing to the Lord, and then to Himself. "Things as you say 'roll down
hill,' and at the bottom of that hill gentlemen is where you seem to be at the moment." He
continued in stride, "So the Jesus and Myself shall be watching everyone, as will Her Eminence," he
finished with a gratuitous "Okay?"
After a slight pause George answered the two heavy hitters, "Ah... understood your most
Honorable Sirs, we'll see what we can do for the cause, and we'll most certainly get on it
immediately...right away. Right Chuck?" he asked, passing the buck Charlie, who mutely, but
eagerly nodded affirmation from behind the desk, sweating bullets and faking a smile. When
either of these two big shots came a calling it meant that there was some new big promotion going
on that they were taking some credit for, there was an upgrade in the facilities, or maybe
the coffee machine on their floor was on the blink. But, when, the two most highly
decorated operatives in the Company came visiting it usually involved universal problems; just
getting their schedules to match-up was a monumental feat in itself, so George and Charlie paid
close attention to the Big Guys, and presently their visitation came to an end. With much to
do about 'good days', and saying of the 'keep in touches,' the tow giants under the sun departed
leaving George and Charlie blank.
"They know," Charlie said after a quiet eternity.
"They know?" George said mockingly. "They know? Of course they know you bone head; they
know everything. That's what omnipotence is all about. They always know everything,"
yelled George with sweeping arms, and a little crazed and confused. He paced the room for a
minute or two rubbing his chin, then the back of his neck. And then, while massaging his
strained neck muscles he swiftly awoke to a new optimism. "Okay," he blurted out, the gears
his brain suddenly spinning wildly, the flood gates of his mind ripped asunder, and ideas leaped to
front of his consciousness. He was suddenly relived and inspired at the same time.
"Okay, it looks like we get a chance to redeem ourselves," he said enthusiastically to Charlie who
had perked up sensing and feeding off George's new found optimism; George continued, "I think we
can fix this, and save our asses at the same time. Let's try not to screw it up, Agreed?" he
asked confidently.
"Yeah; Agreed," answered a suddenly renewed Charlie; renewed, reborn, life was good if George said
so.
"I think I have a plan," said George; Charlie listened attentively. "The first thing we need
to do is get these ah..." searching the desk for some scrawled notes "...ah Fick and Elshamey; the
first thing is to get Fick and Elshamey outta that chamber thing, and up here for a little chat;
lunch perhaps," he added sarcastically.
"Well they ain't gettin' outta there on their own obviously; gotta any brilliant ideas Chimosabi?"
Charlie asked a little more relaxed that earlier.
"No, they're definitely not going anywhere on their own," said George, "so how about one of your
flying carpet tricks or something? Would impress the hell out of the Egyptian guy," he added
lightly.
"That's hilarious, George," Charlie said dryly remembering some long gone past mistake; "that's
really hilarious."
"I know; sorry," offered George. Then more seriously, "Anyway, it looks like we gotta
bring'em up to explain thing, and get them to help themselves, and us," he added more
seriously. Charlie cocked his head questioningly, "The old 'bright light gag' perhaps?"
"Ah now your thinking Charlie my friend. The old 'bright light gag' indeed; it works every
time," he said with a wink to which he added, "To the hunt!"
Bright things happened. Worlds changed. Universes
burped.
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