The Time Thief
1:56:23 a.m. “Daylight savings time” my ass. I got you now pal.
As I sit waiting for my special guest to show up, I can’t help thinking about how I got here.
Josh, my 8-year-old boy, and the love of my life, was killed when a sleeping driver plowed into an intersection — one day after daylight savings time.
Buddy, I will avenge your death. It will not be in vain. This I swear by all I hold sacred.
Vowing to find out why innocent people die each year, I began researching the problem. Two-thirds of the world’s nations didn’t even participate in this absurd policy. But the U.S. government claimed it “saved energy.” But deadly accidents and heart attacks spiked after the time change, so was it worth it?
Three years ago, I began collecting evidence that something more sinister might be happening.
The night before we “sprang forward” I set up a high-speed surveillance cam and waited to see what would happen.
When the clock struck 12:00 a.m., I reviewed the footage.
Nothing.
So I waited until 1:00 a.m., and again nothing happened.
Googling it, I discovered the time jumped from 1:59:59 a.m. to 3:00:00 a.m.
Okay, that makes zero sense…but whatevs.
So I started filming at 1:58 a.m.
At 1:59:59 a.m., my digital clock leaped to 3:00:00 a.m.
I reviewed the video footage.
Gotcha!
An orange-suited man entered my front door at 2:00 a.m. He held out a talisman of some sort and golden green energy poured out of my chest. Then he left.
When I filmed every time shift, the same Time Thief showed up, but in the fall he poured energy into me rather than taking it out.
This guy is precise and…predictable. Maybe I can use that.
The clock now reads 1:59:45. When the clock strikes 2:00:00 a.m., he should walk through my front door to rob me. Then, when the clock jumps to 3:00:00 a.m. maybe I can…
The front door rattles.
I slump forward, pretending to snore, but I keep my eyes barely open.
The thief glides in. He’s dressed in an orange suit, with a white hat and a striped tie. His eyes blaze like fire opals.
I freeze as he begins sucking a green golden light out of my chest.
I lunge, but he’s gone.
The front door is still closing.
I jump through it.
He’s stepping through a glowing slash in space.
I dive after him, landing on cobblestone.
The orange-clad figure turns on a nearby street. At its end is an immense castle radiating a strange golden-green light.
Noting my surroundings, I am surprised to see everyone’s suit is either orange or yellow.
Maybe it’s a uniform. I need one.
Psssstttt! My target is going away from the castle.
He ignores me.
PSSTTT!!!!
The guy turns towards me. I wave for him to come over.
He looks around, then looks at me and points at his chest.
I nod “Yes!”, wink and again wave him over with a friendly smile.
One “back turned to invite you in then I sucker punch you and take your clothes” moment later…I haven’t found anything else on him.
So I join the bizarre river of thieves heading towards the castle.
As I draw closer, I notice its strange spires crumbling, then rebuilding themselves.
Wolven guard dogs wearing Swiss Army helmets and breastplates stand at the front gates. They hold pikes that crackle red with violence. They blur, shudder, and fade, before coming back into focus.
Are they slipping through time? How do attack somebody like that?
No time. Must focus.
A sign reads, “Unauthorized personnel subject to immediate banishment.”
Tipping my hat brim down, I walk confidently through the front door, then stop.
What in the everloving…
I’m at the back of a line that’s five hundred people deep. They stand in front of a vast wall of tellers.
Whoa!
I freak out as my hand flickers old, then young, then back to normal.
Looking up, I see a large sign that reads, “First Bank of Temporium.”
This isn’t a castle. It’s a time bank!
I watch a transaction. First, a man just pops into existence in front of the window.
Was he at the front of the line?
Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a bar of gold…but it looks lightweight.
That’s not gold. It’s solid time! And he’s placing it in the drawer so…the guy behind the glowing wall must be a teller.
The teller takes the energy bar over to a Willy Wonkaesque contraption. Golden light pours out the back, and a sign blinks “100% Pure.”
Under a sign that reads “Hours Deposited,” numbers are rapidly climbing up from the 5.4 billion mark.
I pick up a nearby brochure and read it to test if I’m dreaming. It says, “The Premiere Bank for Time Vampires.” Then I reread it.
It reads easily. This is not a dream. Whoa crap. Must think.
The brochure details how all deposits are converted to threads and transferred to time spools. Then they’re shipped via armored transport to The Sisters Three, Inc. where it’s cultured and multiplied like a crop.
The ancient Greeks said the Three Fates wove time on a loom. How’d they know?
The extra time is then sold at exorbitant prices to the rich and powerful. Then everybody’s time is returned in the fall to maintain the Tao of Heaven or balance of existence.
Their list of clients includes the U.S. and the World Bank.
Only about a third of the world’s countries are on this list. That is correct. But why isn’t everybody in on this scam?
I glance up and find myself near the front of the line.
Wow! This line moves fast.
I keep reading as the guy in front of me pulls their “time brick” out. He begins putting his brick in the drawer.
“Human incursion detected. Request immediate banishment!” blares the alarm.
They’ve found me…finally. Surprised it took them so long.
Wolven guards dash towards me with long glowing pikes sparking red-hot anger.
I bolt for the tray, grabbing at the brick. The time sears my fingertips.
“Get the hell away,” yells the being. And then…
I run out of time.
The guard’s pike hits me and…
Bolting upright in my chair, I look at the clock.
It reads 12:17 a.m.
I check the date.
It’s yesterday. I stole my time back, and more!
Then I notice I’m still in the orange suit and smile smugly.
Time to start planning my next time heist…
Taking my coat off, I throw it on the chair. Heading into the kitchen, I miss the homunculi that crawls out of my pocket and looks around.
“Target acquired. Requesting immediate backup.”
