She knocked on the door. A hatch opened and 2 cold grey eyes looked out.
"Who's there?" He asked, his voice breaking.
“512. I think that’s me number.”
“Oh you, it’s 521 you dyslexic idiot. Thankfully you’re the only Irish one.”
“So who’s 512?”
“Darren? Oh ye mean the stout fellow with the hat?”
“Yeah that’s him. Got the girl?”
“Yeah I got her. Lemme in will ye?”
Inside was the cleanest but most plain area Miss Evener had ever seen. Everyone wore robes and only the eyes were visible. Each voice was slightly different.
“Oi Harry, could you get this girl into the medical bay?”
“Room, medical room you Star Trek nerd.”
“I’ve never seen Star Trek in me life. Now kindly shut up and take her will ya?”
The robed boy took her then led her to a room full of instruments.
“Where did she go?”
“To ask the Section Leader about your payment.”
“I don’t have any money on me.”
The robed boy chuckled then walked off after signalling to another. They walked over, said everything would be okay, gave her some pain relief then tended to the wounds. The relief was instant and it numbed any pain she may have experienced during the treatment.
A robed person walked up a few hours after the aid.
“Alright? I got ye payment sorted. It’s either your first child or memories from when up to 5 years old.”
“What? What kind of payment is that?” Miss Evener said angrily. “Memories or a child? Are you barbarians?”
“If ye didn’t know how to pay then ye shouldn’ta called.” She said.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well I’ll explain it simple okay? Just make sure ye listen. This service is unique, it is used by a select few each millennia. Uh…if you're in so much danger it may kill ye, then we get a message and we are sent to the place you are at. Got it so far?”
“Well then we save ye, bring you for healing if you need it and you pay us. We have no need for money so we take other things like: valuables, memories, first children, hobbies, likes, hates and stuff like that ya see? I like to take accents personally, if they’re foreign or something. I got someone’s Welsh accent, they were famous for it and then their life went down hill. Sometimes that happens.”
“But you're not Welsh.”
“No, I’m naturally Irish. We have other uses for those kinda things.” She said. “So. First child or memories up to 5?”
“Uh… how long have I got to choose?”
“Not long, I hate hanging around my tasks longer than I need. Hurry it up will ye?”
“So you’re asking me to choose over a child or memories and to be quick about it?”
“Basically yeah. Well?”
Miss Evener, now very disturbed and worried, sighed and began to race through her thoughts. “I choose: my memories.”
“Very well. I’ll not be seeing ye again most likely. Have a good life.”
“You too.” Miss Evener said, hoping it was the correct response. She then felt dizzy, couldn’t keep her eyes open and fell asleep.