Timekeeper

Prader sipped his beer. He didn't like German beer. Too stout and served at room temperature - warm. He preferred cold beer. Maybe Staging should devote more time to acclimating Timekeepers to the food and drink of the sites of their missions. But he only drank to appear normal, not to imbibe to excess. He had to keep his wits about him. The part of the crowd that was only there for the beer chattered amongst themselves, interrupted when the real listeners reacted to Kahr's speech. They joined the cheers and whoops of agreement as if they actually heard what was said. Free beer wasn't entirely free. The crowd appeared to be comprised of normal citizens. That was worrisome. Prader carefully glanced around the huge gathering in hopes he would see someone he could identify as military, as part of General von Seeckt’s force. If they weren't in position to stop Hitler when the Nazis arrived, all his nudging would have been in vain. He worried that Professor Jamison was right. The nudges he made put historical events in the proper order. Maybe nothing could disrupt the proper order once set. He glanced at a clock on the wall. He wasn't sure when the Nazis were to arrive. He was relatively sure he was there on the correct date. There was no Staging practice for his personal mission. He read as much as he could about the Munich beer hall putsch - dates, times, people – before he elevate to his mission. But he wasn't sure if he remembered everything. Timekeeper confusion worked on both sides of the elevator. Hitler's goons should arrive anytime. “Why so gloomy?” laughed a smelly drunk as he elbowed Prader. Prader was shocked back to the moment. He smiled and raised his stein. “No gloom. Just listening to Staatskomissar Kahr. He's right. Germany has been wronged and Weimar is doing nothing.” The words flowed automatically. He mentally practiced responses that would not expose him as anything other than a normal, disillusioned German citizen. With a louder, wetter laugh, the drunk replied, “They are all government.” He hoisted his stein in a mock toast. “As long as we have beer.” He drained the cup and walked toward the dispenser for more. A disturbance at the front door drew Prader's attention. Armed men burst through the door. He was jostled as the frightened and confused crowd pushed and shoved to move away from the disturbance. Men tried to distance themselves from the weapons wielding intruders. Their voices of protest mingled with threats to be quiet and yield. Prader saw one figure dash straight toward the stage used by Kahr and the triumvirate. It was Hitler, in the flesh … and resolute. The sharp report of a pistol immediately quietened the crowd. Hitler held a pistol over his head. The crazed eyes that Prader recognized from old photos and films glared around the room. “This hall is surrounded by six-hundred armed men. The revolution has begun! No one can leave.” The Nazis with guns grunted and growled at the crowd as they motioned, shoved, and separated them into smaller, more easily controlled groups. Prader froze, his jaw dropped. General Seeckt should have been there to stop the putsch. No one in the crowd acted like they were military. No one acted to stop the Nazis. His plan … his self-assigned mission with its improvised nudges … failed. There was no moment of mental confusion to indicate something was amiss with history. The Nazis’ rise to power was assured. His efforts didn't stop history from unfolding exactly as he knew it. His hopes that the embryonic Nazi revolution would die a quick death were dashed. He moved when a gun wielding Nazi shoved him with a rifle barrel. The fact that the men had guns in a gun-controlled country shocked him. He had expected brick bats and clubs. He now feared being killed or having his locator taken from him. He absently touched his pocket watch. His frightened mind rapidly assessed his new reality. Hitler loudly declared to Kahr, Seisser, and Lossow, “We have overtaken police headquarters and the military. You cannot resist the revolution. We four need to meet in private.” He waved his pistol menacingly toward the Bavarian leaders. Kahr glanced around the beer hall in disbelief. Not a single person moved forward to resist. No one came to protect him. Free beer did not buy much. The three men followed Hitler toward a side room, escorted off the stage by determined men with guns. Prader waited with everyone else. The tension was thick enough to clog his lungs. His heart pounded in his chest and perspiration dampened his underarms. He could smell himself in the suddenly stuffy hall. The events were almost exactly as he remembered reading in his history books. He was not an expert in German history, but he knew enough to know the revolution was going to be successful. He had done nothing to stop it. Glumly, he waited for the next event. He knew the Munich beer hall putsch did not result in mass murder, so he was probably safe. Thoughts of elevating back to Lineal Chronology roiled his mind. He wondered if Jim Stanton and Kara Leflar would know what he had tried to do. He reckoned they would not know because history would record a disastrous world war and US dominance on the world stage. Their objectives were met. His feelings of dejection allowed the earworm to return. It was almost welcome at that moment because it had been missing for the past six weeks. Something familiar. Something from his real time.“Time after time.”