It was 8:45AM and the phone on the receptionists desk rang. Bleep-bleep, bleeeeep bleeeeep. And rang. And rang again. 

Sandra Ve, receptionist at Automatomics Inc. walked carefully to her desk, carrying a too full cup of hot coffee in one hand, and a too full bowl of Sugar Bitz cereal in the other. Tucked under her right armpit was a folder of papers she needed to file that day, and under her left armpit she carried a folder of resumes to be sorted by the end of the week. Between her knees, she carried her company issue laptop. Her backpack was slung around her left foot, dragged behind her on the cold, smooth tile floor. 

Bleep-bleep, bleeeeep bleeeeep. 

Sandra was determined to only make one trip to her desk, but that trip moved in slow motion. 

Bleep-bleep, bleeeeep bleeeeep. 

She bent awkwardly with her knees to get closer to her desk. First her hot coffee, then her cereal, then the folder of resumes, then the folder of papers, then the laptop, then the backpack, all were placed on the neatly organized desk where she had worked for the last six months. The job was incredibly boring, but it was a steady check that she had come to rely on. Especially in the current job market. Robots were taking over all the good jobs. 

Bleep-bleep, bleeeeep bleeeeep. The display system for the phone showed a constellation of blinking lights, each one a person on a phone elsewhere in the world trying to reach someone. Anyone. 

There was so little foot traffic in the front entrance that she could basically do whatever she wanted, as long as her work was finished on time. After a small sip of the piping hot coffee she opened her laptop, ready to start the day. She wanted to finish watching the last episode of I Guess You’ll Do, to see which bachelor Mandy would choose. There were only three bachelors left on the life raft and they were running out of drinkable water. The show was hilarious. 

Bleep-bleep, bleeeeep bleeeeep. 

She opened the folder to the first and only job req: Human Resources Lead. She sighed. There were no hits on that job and it had been posted for months. It was hopeless. 

BOOM BOOM BOOM. It was like someone was trying to take down the door with a sledgehammer. She pushed the doorbell-like security button beneath her desk in a rapid fire-like motion, wondering what the fuck was happening. 

BOOM BOOM BOOM. 

Hank Steve, the man with two first names, a twenty year veteran of Automatomics Inc., and the only trained security guard on the premises, sauntered into the lobby towards the front door. Hunched over and still chewing his breakfast, he wiped the last of it from his hands onto the back of his pants. After twenty years on the job, he knew rushing anywhere was overrated. 

With his left arm, he swung the door wide open and stepped aside, as if expecting royalty to enter. 

Standing in the doorway, was a petite, middle-aged woman with a flat black hat, its brim covered in real flowers. Her right hand was held up in the air as if about to knock once more. She wore a broad smile, her brilliant white teeth shone brighter than the noontime sun. Her dress was a relic from a different time, suggesting that she was on her way to an elaborate ball. It was puffy at the base but tapered at the waist, the fabric covered in intricate lace.  

Attached at her hip and slid under a cloth belt were the hilts of what looked like swords. 

She extended her hand to shake. “Hello, fine sir. My name is Maygan 4. I’m here to help you all.” 

Hank gripped her hand lightly and politely, but his eyes bulged as she squeezed with the strength of a construction grade garbage compactor. “Hank,” he squeaked. 

“How do you do Hank,” she said with a faint British accent. 

“The owner? You mean… Mister…. McQuarry,” he said to her, his face turning red. 

“Ah, I see,” she said, letting go of his hand. “And where can I find this Mr. McQuarry you speak of?” 

“I can help you,” Sandra said waving her over with one hand while wiping her desk with the world’s largest wad of napkins in the other. Hank shuffled away, shaking his right hand and mumbling something under his breath. “Are you here about a job,” Sandra asked.

Bleep-bleep, bleeeeep bleeeeep. 

“It’s my mission to cleanse your company of all its demons,” Maygan answered. “I’ve been contacted by the council of the TimeKeeper.” 

“I’m not super familiar with them. Did someone contact you about an onsite interview?” 

“They know my qualifications and experience in such matters,” Maygan said. 

Sandra scanned her laptop. “Assuming you are here for the Human Resources Lead role? It’s the only role open at the moment. But I don’t see any interviews scheduled with Mr. McQuarry or anyone else today. ” 

“I was told to come here straight away. There is so much at stake.” Maygan’s smile was intact but her eyes burned with intensity. Her legendary intuition told her this was where she needed to be. 

Sandra pointed to Maygan’s waist. “I like your accessories. They almost look like swords.”  

“Oh these, yes.” She removed the scabbard from her left shoulder, placing it on the desk in front of Sandra’s widening eyes. Maygan removed it from the sheath, and it made a sssssshhhhiiiiinggg noise.  “This one is called Kogarasu Maru. I call it Koga for short. It’s a fine tachi. Sharp. It’s from 700 A.D.”  She held the sword into the air, its blade reflected the artificial light in the room as if the metal imprisoned the souls of its victims. Maygan stepped back and sliced with it three times, cutting the air as if reality would split into two halves and slide away from each other. 

Bleep-bleep, bleeeeep bleeeeep. 

Sandra’s mouth started to hang open, her eyes unable to open any wider.  Her finger crept toward the security alarm once more. 

Maygan sheathed Kogarasu Maru and placed it onto the desk. She removed the sword from her left hip and unsheathed it in similar fashion. 

“This is Honjo Masamune. But I have come to call it Hon. It’s also old.” She sliced once, twice, three times. Sandra swore she saw a trail of fire behind the blade. Then this petite middle aged woman did a backflip in the air, slicing upwards with the sword,  and slicing again cross-wise when returning to her feet. She returned the blade to its sheath. “Officially it’s been missing for nearly a hundred and fifty years. But please don’t tell the Japanese government it’s been found. I don’t want to fight them again. How I acquired these it quite an interesting story.” She approached the desk and placed it next to the Kogarasu Maru. She put both hands on the desk and leaned forward, closing the personal space between them. 

Bleep-bleep, bleeeeep bleeeeep. 

Maygan flipped over the desk, coming down next to Sandra. She kicked the phone into the air, sending it high above her head. In a blur, she grabbed Kogarasu Maru, still sheathed, and balanced the phone atop it. Then with Honjo Masumune, she swung hard and obliterated the phone into a million plastic snowflakes. 

She leaned over a seated Sandra. “Now how can I speak with this Mr. McQuarry about your troubles?”