This is, by far, the most edited chapter of Time Things yet. Whole chunks of it were taken out before it was ready to go up. But now it's here and it's ready for you to read and enjoy.

Otto woke to stares. He didn't jump because he didn't mind it too much, and was really, really tired. But something in the back of his head told him to take a good look, and when he did he wanted to jump.

There were twelve men sitting around him, all smiling like he was a sack of gold or something. Three of them were brunettes of varying shades, two had breads and mustaches. Four were blonds, one had blue green, another green, and two had, and this was freaky, red eyes. Two others were bald, one looking dark and sunburned, the other paler and serious. The last three were green, blue and a pale purply color.

They were all scruffy, if not dirty, and they all grabbed a hold of him when he picked his head up. He yelled before he realized that they weren't dragging him off somewhere. They were hugging him.

Elkhart didn't know what to do with the giant and the deactivated robot. He had both sent to the makeshift infirmary and placed under heavy guard. Reports on the incident had flooded out of the station, one from every representative onboard and, Elkhart could tell you, there were a damned lot of them.

No one really saw what happened, except the giant in the infirmary. Officers had searched him for identification and found that he was one 'Buckley James Tuddrussel,' of an organization called 'Time Corps.' Aides of the admiral ran numerous searches to find out who and what he was. Nothing came up. No official documentation whatsoever. No photos matching the face or any other characteristic on any records. No DNA samples. Not even so much as a recorded conversation involving the name.

Buckley James Tuddrussel didn't exist.

And the anonymous robot would remain anonymous until he could be reactivated. Getting into him was impossible. He was blotted over at every access point, his software, the parts they had been able to get into, was strange and encoded the way none the technicians and linguists and mechanics had never seen.

Elkhart was not a man who liked to be uncertain. When he wasn't sure he asked someone who would know. When they didn't know he'd ask someone else. He had been a pain to his teachers that way, asking the questions they didn't know the answers to and loosening their strangle hold on the class.

But now, with no one who would know, and all eyes on the Earthling admiral, the top brass, master and commander, Elkhart had to act or let the whole station fall into chaos.

And, by God, he couldn't let that happen.

For three days he visited the little infirmary, which consisted of a few beds and medicbots set up in a glorified storage room, to see how the invalids were doing. The robot was hooked up to a board that recharged him while technicians worked on the circuits that had given way inside him. Tuddrussel the Giant was laid out on a bed, strapped down this time, and heavily sedated. Doctors were easing him off of the sedatives to bring him back faster, but not too fast or else he could be as violent as he was before.

No one knew how Elkhart had stopped him that first time, but everyone asked. Elkhart brushed the questions off by saying 'old Earthling trick,' or, 'commanding officer's voice,' or, 'I got lucky.'

Meanwhile, he tried to keep everything working as if nothing had changed. Larry 3000 was at least helpful, wanting to continue the peace talks regardless of the rest of the station's troubles, and the knus obliged. Things on that front moved along normal as ever; slow and painful. In a week there was no progress besides the fact that they were all more or less on first name basis.

At the end of the first week Tuddrussel came to and Elkhart was the first to speak with him.

He was propped up in bed, looking gruff and mean and uncomfortable. That last part, Elkhart thought, was probably the straps.

Elkhart sat in the chair beside him, giving him the same solid look that had stopped the giant before. He checked himself the way he always did before he did something authoritative.

Was he scared?

There was a long paused before the answer came back to him.

… No.

"Do you speak English?"

"It don't sound like God damned French, does it?" The man had a thick southern accent. A fellow Earthling, that was a nice change.

Elkhart kept himself from softening up just because this man had the same homeworld as him.

"What's you name."

"Buck Tuddrussel, can I get these damned things undone? I can't feel my own God damned feet!"

"Answer my questions first, Tuddrussel."

The giant snorted.

"What are you doing here?"

He was silent for a while, looking at Elkhart with red-rimmed eyes.

"I'm here to make sure these peace talks go smoothly."

And he refused to say anything more on the subject.

Elkhart asked a few more questions about Tuddrussel before coming to the subject of the robot.

When Tuddrussel saw Larry strung up the way he was, his whole body no more than the sum of his parts, he wasn't happy. In fact, he was mad enough to jump out of his bed and head over to the robot, knock the technician out of the way, and jab at the reboot button at the base of Larry's neck pipe.

Or, at least, he thought he could've done all that. He was damned angry, but he honestly couldn't feel his feet. Or hands. Larry would have to wait.

Elkhart asked him what model Larry was, what his primary function was, why he had shut down.

Tuddrussel explained as best he could; Larry was a Lawrence 3000, but (he lied) one of the prototypes, that was why he looked so old. His primary function was to serve diplomats, and Tuddrussel had no idea why he had shut down.

"Tuddrussel," Elkhart started, pulling a recorder out of his pocket and starting it. "I want you to tell me everything that you saw in the infirmary."

And out it poured. Elkhart was astounded, everything from a stolen child to double agents within the station. As Tuddrussel talked about seeing the rogue ship, Elkhart fought a smile. This was just the kind of thing they needed to clear Earth's name with Knull.

Otto was taken to meet three officers; the captain of whatever ship he was on, the ship's head doctor, and a man everyone called' Joo-Joo.'

All three were in the captain's study, which was as scruffy and held-together-by-rubber bands-and-paperclips as the rest of the ship. But, it was more full of stuff, even if Otto didn't want to touch half of it. They were all sitting on either boxes or hard looking chairs. Otto was thrown off by this, because there was a perfectly good looking armchair in the middle of the room.

When they saw him, two of them rushed to greet him, while the last stood by the armchair and smiled. The first two, a man with long black and silvery hair and a beard and another small purplish man, were really nice. They yelled happy hello's, shook his hands, picked him up, and plopped him down into the armchair.

The third was much, much older than the others. He was tall and greenish, with white hair that fell from his head in root-like locks. His eyes were small and deep set, his face baggy with wrinkles. He had to kneel to see Otto, even as he sat in the tall chair, and as he did so Otto saw for the first time the weirdness of his milky. The old face was patterned with blue dots, too, uniform as the leavings of machine guns from Prohibition. A long white bread hung from his chin, bushy at first but then turning into just a few scant hairs the longer it grew.

Otto took as guess and thought; this must be Joo-Joo.

He sat and looked at all three for a long moment, before he realized that they were waiting for him to do something.

He scratched his nose and coughed. The younger two were grinning from ear to ear, the old man just smiling in a tired but excited way.

Otto cleared his throat.

"Uh, who are you guys?"

And they were off!

The first two commenced to tell Otto their life stories, at the same time. The third was silent for a few moments, seeing where his comrades were going and if Otto could handle them, finally spoke.

"He means, what are your names, boys."

The other two stopped at the sound of the old man's voice, and looked at Otto, then each other.

"Yeah, uh, that's what I meant."

Otto felt more awkward now, in the silence, than he had when they had been all over him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the old man standing over him, a greenish white silhouette. He shifted so he lost sight of him.

"Well," the black haired man rubbed the back of his head with one big hand. Upon closer inspection he looked like a darker, thinner Tuddrussel. He wasn't nearly as big, but he shared the Texan's expansiveness nonetheless. He looked at Otto with dark grey eyes and smiled. "I'm Jamal Ghazali-Johnson, I'm the captain of the fleet."

Otto smiled, enjoying how familiar this man was.

"Hi, I'm Otto Osworth."

Something deep in the captain lit up when Otto spoke, and he smiled the biggest smile Otto had ever seen.

The little purple man was more timid than Captain Ghazali-Johnson.

"I'm, uh. I'm N-Norm f-f-f-Fielding. Ship s-s-surgeon."

"Hi, like I said, I'm Otto."

The little doctor smiled and nodded his bald head.

That done, all attention turned to the old man, who held a hand out to Otto.

"Most men call me 'Joo-Joo.' I am the one who found the Prophecy of your coming."

Otto looked at the old man, deeply confused.

"What prophecy?"

What do YOU think the Prophecy will be?