Santa Command—Phil's office
December 25th
0410 hours
Walt ushered Phil into the office, then slammed the door shut behind them. Phil's framed “Employee of the Year” certificates bounced against the walls.
Phil backed up against his desk. He gripped the edge to hold himself steady.
Walt stood before him, his face glowing Santa suit red. His stubby finger sliced the air between them. “First, you bring the girl here against my orders. Then, you let her get loose. And then…” Walt's face turned a deep shade of purple as he geared up to explode. “And then, you purposely give her access to our computer. She crashes it, and of course you decide to fix it by knocking thirty four million people out of time. And after all that, I still don't think you understand the magnitude of what you've done. If you did, you would have handed in your badge two hours ago.”
Walt paused. His breaths came in short, angry puffs as he stared at Phil's collar.
No, he stared at the ID badge dangling from Phil's collar.
Phil unclipped the badge, which had been a source of pride for him for so long, and with shaky fingers, handed it to his boss. “You know why I brought her here.”
Walt stuffed the badge in his pocket. “And you know why you shouldn't have. I want you out of Santa Command by morning.” He ripped one of Phil's certificates from the wall and threw it to the ground, then stomped out the door.
Shattered glass covered the floor like ice. It was almost pretty except Phil knew that it was a symbol of his failed career.
Phil shrugged sadly. Once the Inklings dusted him, he wouldn't remember the plaques or his job or anything real about the last fifteen years. He'd never spend another Christmas Eve squaring off against the kids, because this year, he'd lost.
Soon people would start waking up. A couple hundred of them would be wondering why Santa hadn't delivered their presents. The rest would be wondering why they couldn't call family in other states. Confusion would soon turn into panic, because for them, the rest of the world would simply disappear like someone took scissors and cut them away. Why hadn't he considered the consequences before he acted? Would someone eventually fix it?
Phil wondered if the night could have played out differently. What if he had wiped Tracy when he was supposed to? What if he had put a guard by her window at Santa Command so she couldn't escape? As Phil struggled to think of how he could have fixed the computer without stopping time, a message in red letters appeared across the bottom of his monitor.
Incoming Call. Press enter to accept.
What?
He pressed enter, and Mary's image popped up on the screen. “Good morning. It's been quite a night, hasn't it?”
Phil angled his screen, because he didn't think he was seeing it correctly. “How is this even possible? We're out of sync with you guys.”
Mary smiled like she knew a secret. She'd always been good at keeping them. “You're probably wondering how I'm speaking to you. This is a recording which I uploaded to your main frame, programmed to run on every computer at this exact time.”
Phil sighed miserably. Of course, she and Chris had found a way to scold him. At least, he wouldn't remember it for long. He looked forward to the Inkling dust.
“I know you think I'm probably going to yell,” continued Mary, “but I'm not. This is far more important, and you need to listen to every word.”
Phil sat up. Had they found a solution? He grabbed a pen and notepad.
“The first thing I'm going to give you is a warning, and the second is a request.”