oloriel | Further down the rabbit hole

I had two hours of time between two lectures, so I decided to stroll around in Cologne for the time, rather than going to the Mensa.
This proved to be no good idea as it was snowing and lousily cold. So I decided to walk towards a large bookstore - it's warm inside and I love to look at books, even if I can't buy one - when I noticed a sign on a rather low-key building saying "Embassadors wanted! Apply inside."
Now I still needed a job for the vacations, and being an embassador of whatever sort sounded interesting, so I went through the unobtrusing gate into the building.
I entered a surprisingly large, brightly lit hall. The floor and the walls were covered in marble, it was warm and damp, and exotic plants were growing in big flower tubs set everywhere in the hall - some of the plants I recognized from documentaries or biology class, others I had never seen before. Around the flower pots, benches were arranged, on which several people were seated. It was perfectly silent; only my footsteps sounded loudly through the hall as I walked to the opposite side where there was a long desk. A young receptionist looked up incuriously as I approached. She was apparently an albino. Her skin was so white it was almost translucent, she wore sunglasses and had an umbrella put up behind her. Her long, snow-white hair was arranged in dreadlocks wrapped around her head like a turban.
I stopped at her desk.
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked in a very accentuated way.
"Um, no. I saw the sign about the job offer outside and thought I'd try and apply."
"I see. You are lucky; Mr-" and here she uttered a completly incomprehensible name "is free for the moment. Just go along that corridor to the last door. If you hurry, you might make it before the monsoon. Here, some information." She handed me a little brochure.
"The monsoon?" I asked, and she nodded, obviously not deeming it necessary to explain any more.
So I walked into the direction she had specified. I had only just reached the corridor when a strange rushing sound made me look up. From the corner of my eye, I could see the people in the hall opening umbrellas or taking cover under the benches. Then the rain hit the ground.
It was heavy, tropical rain, large luke-warm drops splattering on the floor. Within seconds, little runnels had formed on the floor, and my coat was soaked with water. I began to run towards the last door, slipping on the wet marble floor. I managed to get to a skidding halt before the door and knocked. It opened.
I entered quickly. The air inside the room was dry and cold. I began to shiver in my rain-soaked clothing.
The room was dominated by a large desk. The walls were held in gentle hues of blue and green, the light dimmed. Behind the desk, several large clocks were hung; the sort of clocks that you find in large banks or hotels pretending they're particularly globalized and enterprising. The clocks informed me that it was 14:28 in Cologne, 13:28 in Oxford, 11:55 in Paradise, 19:28 on Cloud Number Nine, NOW in Neverland, 15:28 in Erewhon, 27:68 on Uriel, 2:98 on Coruscant, 0:28 in Aburaya, four before dawn in Dreamtime and 5:5 in Valinor. Another clock with a sign saying "Armenelos" underneath had apparently ceased service. And I discovered a clock that gave the time for Méorden - which was obviously in the same time zone as Cologne. Intrigued, I stepped closer.
I was so fascinated by the clocks that I almost forgot why I was here. Only when a loud cough tore me out of my fascination, I remembered the job offer. Slightly embarrassed, I turned my attention towards the tall, somewhat chubby man behind the desk.
"Um, I'm sorry, Mr. ...?"
"Since you probably couldn't pronounce it anyway, just call me Coordinator. Most people do."
"Ok. Well, Mr Coordinator, my name is - "
"Just Coordinator will do. And I know your name, Miss B. - or should I say Lyra?"
The chill that ran down my spine might have been both surprise or the cold.
"How do you know?"
"I'm afraid I can't disclose details of my job. Let's talk about your job, instead."
"My job?"
"Your job. You're here because you want to be an embassador, right?"
"Well, yes." I must admit I was rather ill at ease by now. I tried to look at the brochure the receptionist had given me, but apparently the rain had dissolved the colours, leaving me with nothing but a colour-clouded folded sheet of satinized paper.
The Coordinator spoke again.
"Good. What languages do you speak?"
I was tempted to ask whether he didn't know already, but I kept back. "German, English, some French... and I'm learning Japanese. Oh, and I did Latin in High School, of course." On impulse, I added, "I also tried Quenya and Sindarin, but that's only survival skills."
"Survival skills?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Um, yes. Like Hello, Goodbye, Nice to meet you, I'm a friend, Don't shoot me and Can I please have something to eat."
"I see." He chuckled. "Can you write all that, too?"
"Mostly, yes... I also know Aurek-besh."
"And you are a student of", he seemed to look at a file, "English, Japanese and... 'Cultural Anthropology.' What is that?"
I explained as well as I could.
"That sounds rather... human-centered."
"Well, yes, by force. We haven't met any other cultures, after all."
The Coordinator smiled mysteriously, but didn't say anything. Instead, he took some notes. Then he gave me a small business card.
"Very well, Miss B.. You will hear from us."
"Wha... that was all?"
"Oh, yes. But we will let you know about our decision."
"Who is we?" I ventured.
Another mysterious smile.
"Maybe we will let you know that, later on." He gestured to the door.
Somewhat disappointed, I left. Luckily, the rain in the corridor had stopped. It was warm and moist again, fog rising from the puddles on the ground. I said goodbye to the people in the hall, who had taken their seats on the benches again, and they nodded in reply. The receptionist was nowhere to be seen.
I left the building and returned into the snow and cold of Cologne. The clock on the subway station said that it was 14:28.