Time Crime

His feet, snug in his old tartan slippers, guided him down the stairs, across the hall, and into the small kitchen at the back of the house. He plonked the kettle on the stove, the clang unnaturally loud after the previous night's session down the Wagon and Horses. Dave cursed under his breath as he tried to rub away the alcohol induced pounding in his head. He twisted the knobs on the cooker and ignited the wrong ring three times. By process of elimination, he finally succeeded in lighting the flame on the correct ring.

Something on today, what is it?

He shuffled across the linoleum floor to get the milk and congratulated himself for leaving a note on the refrigerator. He squinted his eyes and finally focused after a few seconds; Check Beetle - Arthur - 0123546543 - 45, Old New Street, Chatham.

"Oh right. But first, tea."

Dave fought a brief tug-of-war with the fridge and was rewarded with his milk. Just as he slammed the fridge shut, the doorbell rang.

"Whoever that is, you can go away!" He shouted.

Again, the bell rang.

"Look here, I am in the neighborhood watch and have a notice on my door. If you are selling something, I don't want to know!"
The doorbell pusher proved persistent by pressing it for the third time.

"Alright! I'm coming! Jeez."

Making sure his dressing gown was tied shut, Dave stomped the length of the hall to give his unexpected visitors a piece of his bloody mind. He unlatched the door and swung it open.

"What?"

Two things stood on his doorstep. One was slightly taller than his six foot two, the other the height of a ten-year-old child. Their heights were not what made them stand out: they were not human. The tall one resembled a blue rhinoceros wearing sunglasses. The short one could only be described as a blob with tentacles. They both wore similar uniforms, akin to an American football player's kit crossed with a military uniform: all shoulder pads and badges.

"Mr. McArthur?" Asked the blob.

"Um, yes. Is Halloween early this year?"

The blob ignored the question.

"Mr. David McArthur of 23 Finch Crescent?"

"Yes, that's me. What do you want?"

"Sir," - barked the rhinoceros, reading from a digital notebook - "We are prevention officers of Time Squad and are here to bring you in for questioning."

Dave giggled. This had to be the boys down the pub.

"Alright, you got me, tell Phil it was a good one. Now if you don't mind I have a kettle on."

He started to close the door on the pranksters but stopped when he noticed weapons pointed at him. They looked like something from a nineteen fifties sci-fi flick, except that these hummed and buzzed angrily. Dave froze.

"Sir, you will be arrested for resisting questioning. Come with us before this gets ugly." Rhinocop may or may not have looked angry, it was tricky to tell.

A low whistle slowly grew in volume from the back of the house. Officer blob swung his armed tentacles and squeezed the trigger. The kettle vanished in a puff of silver smoke.

"Oi! My kettle!"

"Right Sir, that's a violation."

Rhinocop reached into his breast pocket and retrieved what Dave thought looked like a silver miniaturized Speak and Spell. He pressed a few buttons, and it lit up with a soft blue light. A robotic female voice began speaking.

"Causing an officer of POTS to discharge his weapon carries a charge of thirty days detention."

"Now look here, what is this all about?"

The Speak and Spell continued.

"Arguing with an officer of POTS carries a charge of one day per word. Eight days added."

"But--"

"Nine days added."

He shut up.

Officer blog looked up at him as sympathetically as a blob could.

"We realize this is difficult for you, but we really do have to take you in. You have a future crime of driving a nineteen seventy-three Volkswagen Beetle without insurance. What will you have to say about that?"

"What? I've not even bought it yet. I can't have driven it without insurance."

"Of course not Sir. But you will."

"What if I promise not to buy it?"

Officer blob slowly shook the top of his mass side to side.

"When we are from, you already have. Don't make this harder for yourself, Sir."

This is madness. I can't think straight without my first cup of tea. Even Doctor Who confuses me.

"Well, alright. I suppose I could get a lawyer when I get there."

"Oh no, Sir. We don't have lawyers. They kept getting people off, so we made it an offense to practice law." Once more he pressed a few buttons, and the Speak and Spell came back to life.

"Mr. David Alan McArthur of twenty seventeen. You are futurely charged with driving a vehicle without insurance. How will you plead in two month's time?"

"Um--"

"Invalid input."

"Not guilty?"

"Incorrect. Please come with us. Have a nice day."

To be continued...

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