To Do It Properly

"My name is Kris, spelled with a capital ‘K.’ Over the past few days, I’ve experienced events that have profoundly affected me. I hope my excellent memory will allow me to recount them precisely, in the exact order they unfolded. This is crucial because I am the only participant who knows about them and remembers them. That is, of course, if it’s possible to remember what will happen in the coming days. This sounds a bit convoluted, so it’s best to start at the beginning—with a new assignment I received from my immediate superior, Otto Schneider.

A little about my job: I work at the Museum of Fine Arts, heading the "Department of Delivery and Evaluation of New Exhibits." Well, “department” is a bit of an exaggeration since I’m its only employee. However, thanks to my work under the direct supervision of Otto Schneider, our museum has, in just the past two years, become one of the world’s leading institutions.

Otto Schneider was meticulous in selecting someone for the Delivery Department. Absolute confidentiality is the foundation of our firm’s existence and success. Every employee signs a non-disclosure agreement—and it’s not just a formality. Among Otto Schneider’s staff are psychologists who immediately intervene at the first sign that an employee might divulge something or, worse, expose us to competitors. I was warned about this when signing my employment contract. There are temporary contracts, long-term contracts, and then there’s ours—lifetime contracts. There are three causes for dismissal: indiscretion, disrupting the balance of events, or natural death. In the first two cases, the dismissed employee’s memory is entirely erased—or rather, only the part concerning our work at the museum. I break out in a cold sweat when I think about it. I never want to forget my past assignments, nor do I want to give up future ones. That’s why I always strive to perform my tasks flawlessly. Besides, a job well done is the cornerstone of our enterprise's success.

We’ve managed to acquire rare artifacts representing all eras of human development, from the stone tools of early humans to contemporary works of art. We’ve especially excelled in acquiring historical artifacts, outpacing our competitors in every way. As the head of the Delivery Department, I simply need to show up at the right place at the right time—quite literally, because I am a time traveler.

Several centuries ago, a Franciscan monk invented a time machine, the tempus apparatus. Driven by his religious zeal, he sought to witness the great prophets and hear their wise words firsthand. But the church fathers were so terrified by this idea that both the monk and his time machine plans simply vanished. No one even gossiped about what might have happened to them. That is, until Otto Schneider accidentally discovered the plans in an old box he’d purchased at a flea market in Florence. The pages with the time machine’s designs were hidden among a stack of private letters stored in the box—or so Otto told me during one of our candid conversations about how he came to possess the time machine. Either way, he managed to rebuild it from the plans.

Its existence is a tightly guarded secret. Otto Schneider completely trusts me, and I deeply value my job, which allows me to embark on incredible “business trips,” leaving me with impressions that linger in my phenomenally accurate memory. I’m not prone to gossip and prefer the company of my most agreeable conversation partner—my cat Watson, whom I rescued from a dumpster several years ago. Together, my boss and I make an excellent team, satisfied with each other and the work we do.

One other aspect of my job worth mentioning: I always return to the exact moment I left for the past. This means no one uninitiated ever notices my absence.

As I mentioned earlier, the results of my “business trips” have made our museum one of the most visited in the world. Otto Schneider, always looking to expand our success, decided to open a new paleontology wing showcasing ancient fossilized animals. Naturally, he was eager to acquire previously unknown specimens. He tasked me with thoroughly studying all known species of dinosaurs, ancient reptiles, and other prehistoric creatures whose fossilized remains have been discovered worldwide. It probably goes without saying that I completed the assignment with distinction. Within two weeks, I could have been considered one of the leading experts in paleontology. But there’s no way I’d give up my time-traveling adventures for anything.

I’ll be honest, I was a bit nervous before carrying out my new assignment, as it involved a jump back in time to a hundred million years ago, to the Cretaceous period.

On the one hand, I couldn’t wait to see the primitive landscapes, but on the other hand, I was afraid of meeting the voracious dinosaurs whose images I had seen in textbooks.

I voiced my concerns to Otto Schneider, sitting in his cozy office, furnished with antique furniture.

“Don’t worry about it, Kris,” my boss reassured me confidently. “My specialists have developed an invisibility cloak that no dinosaur will see or smell you in. Just don’t take it off.”

Otto Schneider has many specialists who work independently of each other. I didn’t ask him who these specialists were, knowing his preference to keep everything secret. Besides, I had long since convinced myself that they did their work conscientiously.

As for the rest, I was confident I could handle the new assignment. The main rule for behavior during my time travels is: never interfere with the course of events, avoid any emotional contact. I don’t stand out in the crowd, and during my “business trips,” I make sure to blend in, pretending to be a stranger killing time, strolling around local markets and shops. Or I simply try to disappear into the crowd, where I can, taking advantage of the moment and time, observe great people. I’ve watched Leonardo da Vinci, lost in thought, walking the streets of Florence. I once mingled with a crowd of ancient Romans, greeting Cleopatra’s triumphant entry into Rome. I’ve watched Napoleon, morally shattered, after the Battle of Waterloo. And at all times, I’ve never violated our strict code—never spoke to anyone or interfered with anything, to avoid risking altering the course of events and thus disturbing the balance.

Only once did I let my curiosity get the best of me.

I was sent to Vienna in July 1791 to acquire exclusive wall clocks made of wood and bronze. The piece was indeed excellent! Naturally, I bought it directly from the master who crafted it. I am always supplied with money that’s in circulation during the era I’m visiting.

Happy with the assignment well done, I decided to take a stroll through the evening streets of Vienna. I also thought I might walk by the house where Mozart lived, hoping to catch even a glimpse of him.

I hid under the awning of a building across the street from Mozart’s house. It was already dark, and I was hard to spot, especially since I was wearing a black cloak. One should always dress inconspicuously in a foreign time and place. I tried to peer through the lit window on the first floor, recalling some facts from the biography of this genius composer. I remembered an article about a dark-clad stranger who had ordered a requiem from him, during which Mozart fell seriously ill and died. He believed that the requiem was for him. My curiosity piqued—I wondered if I might spot this mysterious stranger and unravel the centuries-old mystery. But I didn’t know exactly which day in July this event occurred.

I crossed the street and approached the well-lit entrance of the composer’s house, hoping to at least touch the door of this genius. And, while I was at it, I counted the remaining money after buying the clock. Otto Schneider is frugal in all times.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and I saw Mozart’s worried face. Surprised, I blurted out, “Has anyone already ordered a requiem from you?” I was holding a pouch with the remaining money in my left hand. His face immediately turned pale, and after a brief silence, he grabbed my pouch from my hands and slammed the door in my face. A chill ran down my spine, and a terrifying realization exploded in my mind: I had just learned who had ordered the requiem from Mozart!

My legs carried me away in a rush, my heart pounding wildly. Already some distance from the unfortunate composer’s house, terrified by the unexpected ominous order, I stopped to catch my breath. A storm raged in my mind. On the other hand, the story of the mysterious dark-clad stranger existed long before my birth, so the balance of time and events had not been disturbed.

Of course, I kept this secret to myself, sometimes marveling at the twists and turns of time and events.

Even now, my pulse quickens when I recall that day in July.

In any case, with dinosaurs, I wouldn’t be tempted to get too close, and if the story with Mozart didn’t disturb the balance, then traveling to extinct animals surely wouldn’t pose any danger to it. So, I didn’t see any risk of altering the balance of events by interfering with those that took place hundreds of millions of years ago. 

To be continued soon!