Dawn at the Tannhauser Gate

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This is the last story for the Faceless Bureaucrat. I published these stories in the order they were written and, of course, backward in time. Feel free to read them in either order. However, this is the last one. I hope you have enjoyed them as much as I enjoyed writing them.

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One last report for today.

Forever.

My clock had reached zero. Zero, a magical number, a number I had been eagerly anticipating these last few weeks. Now it sat there, in unblinking red LED segments, faux wood finish chipping and peeling, a haze on the plastic face blooming the display light. It was a beautiful sight.

It was a terrifying sight.

I sipped my coffee and stared at the retirement clock.

"Hey, heads up. You promised you'd get the report about Dr. Perez' work done before you left today." Peter, the hot-shot director, stood in the doorway, hand resting on the jamb, half leaning into my office. "Don't be slacking off. I still have to sign off on your benefits package. Try not to forget to come by my office when you're done. I have to give you your performance review." He waggled his finger at me while he lectured. With a scowl on his face, he turned and left.

I took a final sip of my coffee and looked at the cartoon on the side. The passage of time hadn't faded the colors though there was a chip missing from the edge opposite where I put my lips. The insides of the cup were stained brown from years of use. I felt it enhanced the coffee flavor. It was fitting that I would be returning it home today, back to where it had come from so long ago.

A saunter down the hallway brought me to the good doctor's laboratory. The carpet in the hall had been replaced long ago by vinyl tile in a cost cutting measure to reduce the number of claims paid out due to people tripping. The pattern in the middle of the hall had long been worn away leaving a smooth, whitish gray path, especially slippery when wet. Not that there was too much danger of that. It never got mopped anymore.

Dr. Perez' lab was familiar, one I had visited many times over the years.

"Hello, Dr. Perez. How are you today?"

"Please, call me Sam. We've known each other for too long." Sam was bent over a workbench, inspecting the dissembled guts of their latest creation. "Congratulations. Big day for you, isn't it?" Delicate work requiring full attention left me to talking to the top of a head covered with short gray hair.

"Yes, it is. I'm still planning on playing a little piece that I've been working on. You coming for some cake?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. I just want to finish putting this back together. I think I resolved the issue with the spin network modulator by adding a manual adjustment knob. You should be able to control the gravity induced entanglement now so you can tune the field."

"So, it's working?"

"Will be. I think. I need to run some tests, check the tolerance at the Planck scale. After I put it back together, of course."

"Of course." I nodded sagely, not quite understanding what was said. "Will it be done today?"

"By close of business. Well, back together anyway. Don't know when the portal gun will be ready for general use. We'll need to map the parameter space of inputs. Without the right seed, who knows where it will put you. It could be anywhere, maybe even be a whole different universe." Sam looked up from the circuit boards and wiring, eyes locking with mine, head slightly shaking from side to side. "I'm so sorry. I know you wanted this done to finish out your time here."

I found myself curiously moved by the apology. "It's all right. You tried hard. I appreciate that." I gave a brief smile. "Peter will take care of you until a new change manager can be assigned. Your funding shouldn't be interrupted."

"Peter. Hmmphf." The doctor's lips were a short, compressed line, eyebrows drawn together and almost touching. "We'll see."

I went back to my office. I worked diligently on my final report wanting to finish my career on a high note. We had transitioned to a wholly electronic system a few weeks ago. Forms in triplicate were a thing of the past we were promised. A process improvement along with a cost cutting measure, implemented by our illustrious director. A number of old-timers grumbled in the meeting where it was announced, which led to a diatribe about the need to embrace change to become more efficient. I wondered about my efficiency as I was unfamiliar with the system and no training was forthcoming.

I can't say I was entirely comfortable with it, I'll admit. The random EMP occurrences and living computer viruses that our department seemed to produce on a semi-regular basis weighed heavily on my mind - but nobody asked me. My retirement clock was in the double digit territory at the time and I didn't want to rock the boat and jeopardize a signoff on my retirement benefits. The end was in sight.

With a satisfied sigh, I clicked on the submit button and my report on Dr. Perez was wending its way, electrons flying to some central cloud located who knew where so as to be delivered to the next floor.

Or would have been. A pop-up box on the screen indicated some sort of failure.

I clicked on the send button again.

Same result.

I could feel a frown forming on my face. Ordinarily, I would have applied a sharp lateral force to the side of the computer. But I no longer had a box to whack. The box that needed whacking was in some server room, probably overheating from throttling the flow of information to further disappoint me. I stared at the screen in somber realization that I would need to call the enterprise IT folks and spend a long time listening to badly produced music on repeat.

Pondering the inevitable, a reminder came up on the screen for my retirement party. I guess the call would have to wait.

I grabbed my violin case and headed toward the large conference room.

Would it be chocolate cake? I rather liked chocolate cake. I briefly wondered what droll words would adorn the half sheet of cake.

"Wait up!" Sam called from the end of the hall. I complied.

Sam double timed the length of the hall, huffing and puffing the whole way.

"You know, I'd like to keep in touch after you leave. See what you're up to," were the words that came out between breaths.

"That would be lovely. I'm not actually sure what I will be doing. I guess I'll have time to figure it out. Getting up late will be nice."

Sam was bright red, no doubt from the exertion. "You could spend time with-"

"There you are!" Peter's grating voice called from the doorway to the conference room. "You need to hurry. All these people are in here, just sitting around. We have better stuff to do." Peter ducked back inside.

"Certainly. I'm coming." I hurried down the hall. Sam muttered something behind me.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Asshole."

A smile almost breached my mask.

Inside was quite a crowd. Fellow change managers, all junior to me now, stood in a line along one side of the room. Opposite them, their charges. It felt like a dance in junior high, sans the cheesy music and dim lighting.

On the table between the two fronts was a quarter sheet of cake with white icing, a stack of small paper plates and a little pile of plastic forks. Peter stood within easy reach of the cake, brandishing a store provided plastic cake cutter. He was the designated cake cutter upper. I gauged the number of people in the room. The slices would have to be thin in order to feed everyone here. No words adorned the top.

"Well, you certainly took your time. Hurry up and come here so we can get this over with."

I silently agreed with Sam's assessment.

I placed my case next to the cake on the table. Peter had a mad look on his face. I looked at the crowd. "I am touched and honored that you all are taking time from your busy schedule to see me on my last day." I opened the case and extracted my fiddle. "I hope you enjoy the little piece I'm going to play for you. It is my small way of saying thank you for the privilege of knowing you all."

I rosined up my bow.

* * *

The final note of the twenty-fourth caprice faded to stillness and I opened my eyes. The silence was unabated. Everyone stared at me wide-eyed and open-mouthed. I lowered my violin. "Well, I tried my best."

A lone pair of hands, Peter's, slow clapped. "That was very...uh, nice. Can we cut the cake so you all can get back-"

Wild clapping and cheering started and built into a crescendo. Peter had his hands on his hips, a frown on his face. Sam beamed at me. People mobbed me, tears in their eyes, congratulating me and wishing me well. I put my violin down on the table, next to the cake.

I'm not sure what happened next. Peter was brandishing the plastic cake cutter at the pastry, well-wishers crowded around me and I turned my back to the table to shake their hands and thank them for coming to my party when I heard a thrum and "Watch out" from Sam.

A loud crunching noise followed. My heel had gone through the violin's body, leaving the strings wrapped around my ankle and the bridge peeking out from under my foot. Everyone's gaze went down, mortified looks etched on the faces.

"Oops," said Peter with his hand over his mouth.

I didn't know what to do. Sam helped me pick up the pieces. Everything grew blurry.

"Well, I think we can end this now. Everyone, go back to work." Sidelong glances were given to the director as the somber crowd shuffled out. Soon, only him, Sam and myself were left.

Sam stood next to me, arm around my shoulders. "I'm sure it can be fixed?"

I stared at the broken pieces in my hands and laid them to rest in the case.

"Yes, it's a shame." Peter spoke with a look of sorrow on his face. "Oh well." The look faded and was replace by a smile. "I think you can get back to work now and finish-"

I punched him in the nose.

* * *

Security waited patiently for me just inside the door to my office. I had a recycled cardboard box on my wooden desktop, half filled with mementos and tchotchkes, the sum total of my time here. Sam peered between the men crowding the door.

At last, I placed my ficus on top of my collection next to my coffee cup. Violin case under my arm, I picked up the flimsy box. One last look around the bare office and I headed toward the door. The gentlemen there stepped aside, a stoney look on their faces.

"I'm so sorry it ended like this," Sam said.

"It's alright. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"No, it's not alright. Peter was being a complete jerk. You know he had something to do with it."

"Still shouldn't have done it. I'm sure this will net him a promotion so there's a good chance you won't have to deal with him long."

"Promotion? For what? For being an asswipe?"

"For efficiently handling a troublesome employee and saving money. I'm sure he'll make a strong case against me at the review board which will undoubtedly result in me being terminated with prejudice. No pension."

"That's absolutely horrible!"

"It is what it is. At least I wasn’t fired outright so I might be able to fight it.” I shrugged. “Even if it doesn’t work out, it just means I’d have to find another job. I'll admit, I looked forward to retirement and not working. Finally having some me time."

Sam's mouth quivered. "Please stay in touch. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine. I'll land on my feet." I stopped. "Oh, hey, could you grab the plant? I want you to have it. When the soil looks a little dry, dump some coffee on it. No sugar or cream."

"Coffee?"

"Coffee. Trust me."

There was a little hesitation. Sam's hand hovered over the bonsai and then darted in and lifted the raku pot out of the box.

I smiled. Sam turned and left with brimming eyes.

The security guard on my right politely coughed and I resumed my march down the hallway, across the marble floor with the inlaid medallion. I looked at the words one last time and snorted. Out the door I went.

Frigid winter air greeted me, a brief whiff of something sour followed by the exhaust from a bus. The bus that I just missed to take to the subway.

Oh well, there'll be another in fifteen minutes. I sat on the cold bench by myself, box in my lap, violin case on top.

* * *

The faded paint of my apartment walls greeted me in mute acknowledgement, their color long lost to the years. My elbow bumped into a dead plant in a macrame hanger by the door leaving webs on my winter coat. A mound of dishes hid the cracked and discolored Formica of my kitchenette table, the would-be destination for my box of souvenirs from work.

I guess I would have some time to clean and redecorate now.

I pushed aside some of the dishes and placed my box on the corner, case balanced on top. I needed to do something today if I was to use the table tomorrow for breakfast. Just needed a little time at the moment.

A sigh escaped me and I started to remove my coat. My sleeve or buttons or something must have snagged on the corner of the box because it tipped and fell.

I watched in horror as the contents came flying out in slow motion arcs. A loud clatter and shattering sound followed as I flailed in vain.

My coffee cup, the final gift from my first day, lay in several pieces on the linoleum. I stared at the colorful remains and picked them up. They sat in my outstretched hands, sharp edges disregarded.

I stood there for a long time after daylight died.

A knock on my door summoned me back. I gingerly deposited the shards on the table and shuffled to the door.

"Hello?" I said as I opened it.

"Do you know how hard it was to find you?"

I blinked. Several times. Sam filled the doorframe.

"I had no idea. I'll try harder next time."

"Your apartment is dark. What were you doing?"

"Thinking about breakfast. It's the most important meal."

Sam's eyebrow arched up and lips pursed. "I just wanted to say I don't blame you for what you did. I know if it had been me, I would have done more than just give him a bloody nose."

"Violence is not a good answer. I got a formal reprimand on my last day and have to have a hearing in front of the board now. It's not looking good."

"Again, I am very sorry to hear that." A hesitation and a slight smile. "Would you like to go to dinner? Tonight? My treat."

I didn't feel like eating. But I didn't feel like being alone either. I slowly nodded.

Relief registered on Sam's face. A broad smile appeared. "Got a place in mind?"

I thought for a second. "I do."

With a final look back into the darkness, I went out and closed the door.

* * *

The smell of burning fat and seared meat from the grill behind the counter permeated the little restaurant. A drop of condensation from my jumbo red cup of sweet tea ran down the textured surface and joined its brethren on the paper placemat. Sam's half empty beer bottle sat opposite it, expanding its own ring of moisture.

I cut another piece of perfectly pink steak, dipped it in brown sauce and shoved it in my mouth.

"You know, you could have picked some place nicer."

I shrugged and swallowed. "Yeah, but I've been coming here a long time. The owner is getting ready to retire and then this place will be gone. Plus, it's affordable and decent."

"Yeah, it is." Sam dipped a thick steak fry into a small heap of ketchup, studied it for a moment. "You know, I'm really worried about you."

I lowered my utensil-filled hands to either side of my plate. "That's very sweet of you. But I'll be fine."

"No, you won't be. You're retiring. Retired. How will you get a job? It's almost impossible for someone older to get a job. And you shouldn't have to. Haven't you dreamed of a little rest and relaxation?"

"I think that dream has ended. Pretty much for everyone nowadays." I didn't bother to point out I was almost fired, saved only because of my tenure there.

Sam snatched the bottle and took a long gulp. The empty bottle's neck pointed at me. "Finish your steak. I have a plan."

* * *

Sam's plan involved breaking into my place of former employ and absconding with a choice piece of technology.

I hesitated in pointing out the perils involved with the technology developed at the agency which Sam took as silent assent.

Honestly, I figured our attempt would be stymied by our security team. No such luck. The guard's face was awash in the light of his cellphone. He didn't even raise his head in the slightest to check on who came across the lobby. We sauntered down the hallway, arm in arm, and paused outside the conference room.

"Well, where to go?" asked Sam.

I wasn't sure. Maybe go in chronological order? "Well, there's the gravity polarizer that Dr. Sellers was working on last week."

"Oh, that sounds promising."

"It was, until it crushed itself and the workbench it was on down to a wafer. The doctor has been trying to recreate it. Says it will revolutionize trash compactors."

"Hmm, you don't have that much time. You need something tonight."

I rubbed the side of my neck. "There's the universal glue that Mr. Mack was working on. He wanted to make better sticky notes. Unfortunately, that's not going anywhere."

"It didn't work?"

"No, it's stuck firmly to the bench top."

Sam's mouth was a moue. "There has to be something."

"I dunno. How's your stuff looking? Did you test it?"

Sam was positively crestfallen. "It's not ready. When I activated it, a black-filled circle appeared. The temperature dropped and everything started getting sucked in."

"Oh no! How did you get away?"

"I kept punching different numbers in until I found one that didn't seem to do anything. Probably should have written it down. Anyway, I left it on that until the timer ran out. Speaking of which, I am going to have to add a way to adjust the timer on it."

I can't say I was surprised by the outcome. It was par for the course around here. I was just glad Sam was OK. I had seen a lot in my tenure. "Well, we should get out of this hallway so as to be unsuspicious. Might as well head to your lab where we can sit at least. Unsuspiciously, I might add."

"That's a great idea. We can talk." Sam took me by the hand and led me to the lab.

Inside, the clutter and components that previously adorned the workbench were gone. In its place was a box with what looked like a tuning fork with a triangle of tines on one end and a pistol grip on the other. A keypad with a VFD was on top and a knob on the side.

"You got it all put together," I said. "Any leftover parts?"

"Not this time."

I nodded. That was encouraging.

Sam brought two stools and we sat next to each other by the would-be gun.

Sam placed an elbow on the top and rested their chin in the palm of their hand while looking at me. "You've been here such a long time. You're an institution. I remember my first day here and how kind you were to me. In fact, how kind you were to generally everyone. You really seemed to want to help us. You've seen so many changes and you stuck around."

"After my first day here, I realized I didn't have anyplace to go so I stayed." I gave a half shrug. "It wasn't so bad. I got to see a lot of interesting things, meet a lot of interesting people." I smiled at my companion.

Sam gave me a shy smile back. Our eyes connected and we gazed at each other in warm silence. We both leaned in.

"There you are!" Peter's nasally voice was most unwelcome. It ground me to a halt mere inches away from my goal. He stood just inside the doorway with paper still stuffed into his nostrils. The security guard from the lobby was behind him.

"Figures you would do something stupid like come back. And you! What were you thinking? Expect all funding to be cut off as of this instant." He shook a finger at Sam.

"You can't do that!"

"Oh yes I can." He marched up to the workbench and snatched the gun. "Gimme that. Is this piece of shit where all the money has gone?"

"Yes, and you shouldn't be waving it around like that. It can be very dangerous."

"Dangerous, I bet. Dangerous because crackpots like you waste honest taxpayer's money on your research. And what do we get out of it? Useless, stupid inventions." He turned to the guard. "Go get the police."

"Sir," the guard started, "I shouldn't leave you alone-"

"I'm the fucking director and I'm ordering you to go get the damn police. You wouldn't be having to leave me alone if you had done your job to begin with."

The guard stiffened. "Yes, sir." Spinning on his heels, he marched away.

Peter turned and bared his teeth at me. "What did you think you were going to do? Come in and take something? You should know better. For crying out loud, you managed all these losers for years. Someone as stupid as you doesn't deserve a pension. I'll make sure of that. This has sealed your fate. I'm glad I'm the one who is putting an end to you being a drain on our resources."

He gesticulated with the gun in his hand.

"You need to be careful with that," said Sam, flinching with every motion.

"Careful, ha! How does this stupid thing even work?" He examined the gun.

"You put in a seed number and -"

Peter pulled the trigger. A cacophony of sound followed by a ripping sensation assaulted me. A black-filled circle with crackling edges big enough to walk through appeared on the floor between us and the door. The temperature began to plummet and a shrill keening filled the lab. Peter screamed and flung the pistol. He grabbed at the workbench. Too late! His feet slipped on a growing rime of ice. He fell face down on the floor, hitting his nose again.

"Yow! Help me! Help me!" He scrambled to find purchase. The wind howled, the hole grew larger. Ominous creaking and scraping sounds came from equipment around the lab as they slowly edged toward the growing hole. Papers and small objects whipped by, disappearing into the void. Peter kept going backward.

"Take my hand!" I yelled into the maelstrom. I had one hand on the workbench, one outstretched toward the floundering man.

I don't know if Peter would have taken my hand or not. A malevolent gust grabbed him and he slid faster and faster into the expanding gap in the floor. "You're fired!" he managed to shout before disappearing into the nether.

"The gun!" I heard Sam yell.

The gun was skittering across the floor with oblivion its destination. I dove for it, joints complaining, tendons protesting, muscles straining. Boy, was I going to need some aspirin tonight! I managed to snag it and found myself sliding toward the rent in reality.

"What do I do?"

"Different number. Hurry!" I could barely hear Sam's voice above the din. The crumbling edge of the void was rapidly approaching.

I thought of a perfect number and keyed it on the pad, the blue-green light of the display acknowledging my four digit entry. I pointed the gun at the wall away from Sam and pulled the trigger.

The wind stopped. A beautiful melody teased my ears. I turned the knob and made it louder. It filled the space with notes of joy and glissandoed to quiet satisfaction. Golden light filled the lab, a sweet smell, the smell of spring drifted in on a warm breeze. I examined the new hole.

Twin suns rose above a plain of flowers framed by distant hills, one star a trifle smaller that what I was familiar, the other a blue-white speck.

"Wow." Sam stood next to me. "It never did that for me before."

They say the two happiest days of your life are the first day of your first job and the day you retire. The possibilities seem endless.

I stood in front of the circle to elsewhere, feeling feelings I hadn't felt in a very long time. A glance at Sam's face told me everything I needed to know.

"Let's."

Hand in hand, we stepped through the gate.