Time Agency (4 page)

Jerry stood in a grayspace. He half expected to be in a prison. The grayspace was certainly a surprise. He only had a few minutes by the fruit stand and hoped that he set 07760 back on track. Because of his escape from the interrogation room, they took no precautions this time around. There was a collar around his neck. It prevented him from teleporting. He could not travel back or forward. Since the grayspace was a doorless box, he was stuck. There was a faint coffee smell as the grayspace began to shift, but he wasn’t doing the shifting. Nanette stood behind him.

“How long have you been there?” he asked.

“The bathroom diversion was a nice touch,” she replied.

The street began to appear around them. The building shimmered into clarity. The people were reconstructed. The cars faded into view. Jerry was now standing next to a coffee shop instead of an empty grayspace. It was part of the city, but he had not seen it before. The light indicated it was the next morning. There was a small dog tied to a table, a couple of patrons, and more importantly, 07760 was walking toward the table with the dog.

“But how did you reconstruct this scene?” Jerry was surprised. She obviously discovered a method to track 07760's movements through the city. Jerry disabled all the conventional methods of tracking through nanomachine signatures. He knew her tactics. She was using something new.

“I've reconstructed this scene from a photograph,” she said as if it would explain everything.

“How? Photographs don't have refined detail.” He was still confused.

“07760 appeared in the background of this couple's photograph.”

There was a tourist couple stuck in a loop. They took a picture of themselves with a thumbtouch and then pulled out a map. A screen appeared on a social networking page marked “archive” displaying the couple’s original photograph. The well-dressed man was impressed with her detective work, and he couldn’t hide it. She never ceased to amaze him. And he saw it again, the hint of emotion on her face. During their training, all the agents were taught to bury emotion incredibly deep. A good agent always looked at the situation objectively. They still had emotion. It wasn’t genetically removed. They were just trained to use it when they needed it. For example, when they were trying to intimidate a suspect, anger was a useful emotion. Human emotion was a utility tool for an agent rather than a fact of being. But he knew all the emotional tricks in the book. Her emotion was something different. He was sure of it.

She directed his attention to the couple. She began to explain, “The device you see is a cell phone. They were sort of miniature computers of the time. The people used to use a database called a social network to catalog their journeys. This couple, in particular, is on their honeymoon.”

“So you have a time, place, and date. I'm sure there is a time window near to this event. Yet I don't see him shackled here with me.”

The scene morphed and changed again. It was a different street corner, a different time of day, in front of a clothing store. 07660 was frozen in time wearing a different article of clothing with the tag still hanging from the clothes.
Good boy.
At least 07660 suspected something and began to take steps for secrecy. Though, he obviously hasn’t figured out everything yet.

“A government CCTV network picked this up. Since the store never reported a robbery and no one was watching this particular feed at the time, the incident went unnoticed by city officials. But our computer noticed. In fact, the computer is running through every bit of historical photograph and video feed. It’s only a matter of time when we narrow in on his objective. For now, we are attempting to narrow down the search by reconstructing a timeline of events.”

“You’re spying on him.”

“The best informant doesn't know he is an informant.”

There was the emotion again. She had him this time. There was very little Jerry could do. Because of the time period, cameras were on every street corner and in every pocket. Finding a liquid moment to cross the time barrier didn't matter now. It wasn't a question of finding a time window, but a question of which time window does she want to use? Jerry let defeat slip on his face. With a spy network tracking 07760's every move, Nanette will be able to pinpoint the perfect time, date, and location to travel back.

“I wanted you to know before I have to do this and that I’m truly sorry.” She pulled a smooth tube from her pocket.

The well-dressed man’s eyes became wide with fear. She was about to cut him off. She placed a tube on his exposed skin, and there was a tiny prick. The data flowing into his mind began to trickle to a halt. The millions of voices, mounds of information, and even the devices of his home that changed temperature and brewed coffee began to slip away. She disconnected him from the network. She pulled the collar off. It was no longer necessary because he could no longer control anything. He was alone in his thoughts. He understood the emotion in her eyes. It was pity.

I was in a luxury suite of a high-rise hotel dying my hair. I stained the sink with dye, but I didn’t care. The dye should throw anyone who wasn’t scrutinizing my face. A contact in each eye changed their color. My look was completely different, but the look could be the person I normally looked like for all I knew. Maybe the identity I was trying to avoid was a persona created by whoever left me here. At least I was left with a few useful tricks. The “wallet of any card” was pretty fun, I had to admit. Apparently, another one of the blank cards was my Citizen ID card with a picture to match the newly dyed hair. My name didn’t seem to matter much because it appeared as a different person each time I needed to produce a card.

I stopped to look at myself in the mirror. I was pretty fit, and I should have been able to take out that clerk. Where are all my fighting skills? I am certainly smart enough, but I really couldn’t do a thing to save myself in the fight. My tussle with security guards at the bookstore was limb-flailing luck. The secret agent hypothesis felt like it was losing traction. I certainly wasn’t here to defraud hotels and coffee shops, though the unlimited cash flow was a perk. At least I’ll be able to sleep in a warm bed tonight. I still wasn’t tired, though. It was like I could go indefinitely without sleep, but I decided to try sleeping anyway. I was never hungry but still ate because I didn't want to crash.

I decided to get some food and kill some time downstairs. I dressed in a nice suit that I bought in a fancy men’s store. I decided to ditch the clothes I stole in case the manager went back on his word and reported them stolen anyway. I knew something was happening beyond the surface of this town, and run-ins with the authorities felt like it was something I should avoid.

I went down to the hotel bar and sat on a stool. I ordered a cocktail and gave the bartender my room number. I picked out a burger and onion rings from the menu, the good old-fashioned American meal if I was even in America. I didn’t even know where I was located. I made a mental note to check out a map when I had a chance. America or not, the burger and the rings were tasty. They were the best damn food I’d had in a while. I ordered another drink when I was done with the meal.

A beautiful brunette sat at the bar a few seats down. She smiled at me, and I rose my glass. There was a danger in interacting with the locals, but it was a good way to do a little reconnaissance. And what’s wrong with a little fun? I may not be a secret agent, but one doesn’t have to be a secret agent to get the ladies. After some more glances with her, I ordered a third drink for myself and one for her. I dug in my pockets for the mints. At least they would come in handy.

I was too focused on the girl to notice the strange mint container. After I had lifted the mint out of the package, instead of another mint, there was an electronic device that was blinking red. I stuffed it back into my pocket and popped the mint into my mouth. The bartender dropped off the two drinks, and I stood up to carry them to her. I crunched into the mint.

And in the next moment, I was at the fruit stand in the grocery store. The well-dressed man was standing beside me. He was examining the fruit on the stand with great care. He looked as if he was searching for perfection, which is next to impossible to find in fruit. I almost told him that when he chided me, “You draw too much attention to yourself. Act like you are buying fruit. Be meticulous, drag out the process but don’t look like you are dragging it out. They can sense it.”

I turned to look at him. “Don’t look at me,” he scolded, and I almost instinctively went back to the fruit. “Your eyes give away too much.” He rolled an apple carefully in his hand. It was perfect…almost. He put it back.

“Who are you?” I finally managed to say as I pressed an orange. I didn’t know anything about buying fruit. A fruit connoisseur, if there were such a thing, would probably see through me. Did pressing lightly on the skin of an orange and watching how fast it rebounds show any indication of sweetness? Does rolling a fig in my fingers show quality? I guess it didn’t matter. I simply needed to look like I was a person who spends too much time buying fruit—which wasn’t the strangest thing I’d done that day.

He took his time answering me. “I guess I am your benefactor. But who I am isn’t important. It’s who you are that matters.”

“So who am I?” I was irritated by his vague answers.

“The briefcase I gave you should have explained that to you. It was programmed to transfer all the information you need to know about yourself as soon as you held the file for a decent length of time.”

“You should have left a note that says read me,” I said.

“You shouldn't have even needed to read it. Just open it and a data transfer. Like a download, if you will, directly into your brain. It would be like you know nothing one minute and have knowledge the next.”

“I kind of lost it.”

“I know.”

“Shouldn’t we find the briefcase before someone else gets the data transfer?”

“Its quantum locked. That means only the person with the right quantum signature can open it. Everyone has a unique signature at the quantum level. The briefcase is tied to yours. Grab a bag and start putting fruit in it. You are drawing too much attention to yourself. Any person in this store could be an agent. Do you know what ‘ancient bookseller’ means?”

“An old guy who sells books?”

The well-dressed man was pretty good at ignoring my attempts at humor. I could tell he wasn't going to be any fun. “I found the words ancient bookseller with the coordinates for this time period.”

“Time period? Who am I?” I asked.

“We are from the future.” The well-dressed man looked out the window. There was a woman on the street. She had ruby red lipstick and a suit that was feminine yet powerful. “They found me. Take out the mints in your pocket.”

“This is getting absurd.” I protested as I fished them out. He yanked the package away from me. He tore open the foil, revealing a device hidden in the mint package. There was an electronic hum. He handed it back to me.

“You must do what I’m about to ask if you want to live. That woman is looking for you. I will distract her, but we must wipe the memory of this conversation, or she will come looking for you in here.”

“But I’m trying to get my memory—”

“There is no time. They will scan my brain and find a record of this conversation. You need to wipe us now! When you are at a safe location, you can experience it again. The device you hold will wipe our memories. It will store the memory in a mint. All you need to do is eat the mint, and the memories will return. Make sure you are sitting down when it happens. Now hold it up. Think about wiping both our memories of this conversation.”

“What if I don’t like mints?” I asked.

“Who doesn’t like mints?” the well-dressed man questioned. He turned away from me and faced the front of the store. “Do it while my back is turned.”

I held up the device and thought about wiping the conversation. There was a hum. He darted away from the store. The woman in the suit chased him. I must not have used it correctly. The conversation was still fresh. She would scan his brain and discover him. The machine in my hand looked like a normal mint package with foil ends. I shoved it into my pocket. My memory began to slip. I was talking to a man. There was an apple in my hand. I wanted to bite it. I felt the world fall out of focus. It was like I was falling through an empty void.

I woke up to a woman looking into my eyes. I was on the floor of the bar. The woman, bartender, and a couple of other patrons hovered around me. My thoughts and vision blurred back into reality. I was buying her a drink. I wanted fresh breath. I pressed on my pocket. The mints were still there. I apologized, insisted I was fine and went to my room.

Nanette appeared on the street in front of the bookstore for the second time that day. She checked the data stream and knew that he was close by. Jerry's disappearing act from the interrogation chamber was impressive but expected. She was his mentor after all. She began to scan the people on the street because she didn’t want any unexpected events at such a critical time in the mission.

Her scan wasn’t noticeable to anyone but herself. Her technology wasn't detectable by anyone from this time period. Her scanners were her eyes, and the computers processing the scan were the nanomachines in her body. She simply needed to glance around, and she could see every face. There were hundreds of people on the street, and she cataloged everyone. If her protégé or 07760 were on this street, she would see them. Technology often looked magical to people of early history. Her nanomachines could control devices. A person from this time period would probably think she was a psychic and a genius when technology merely enhanced her. One thumbtouch from this period with an entire library of books and music would amaze those one hundred years ago before the invention of the computer.

Her scanner alerted her to the presence of 07760 before she was able to verify him visually. The alert said 07760 was across the street. She pinpointed his location and saw a homeless man with long hair and a long beard where 07760 should have been. At first, she thought he bought a disguise and was wearing a fake beard. But the scan was accurate. His hair was genetically his hair. She was about to cross the street when she saw her protégé leave the grocery store. He ran down the street, and she chased after him. He ducked into the café.

She followed him into the café. By the time she entered the main lobby, Jerry was nowhere to be seen. She counted two unisex bathrooms in the back and only one bathroom key on the counter. She snatched the bathroom key, and the irritated barista barked at her, “Bathrooms are for customers only! Can’t you read?”

She ignored the barista and pushed her way to the back bathroom. One said occupied, and the other was vacant. She didn’t need the key, but she stuck it in the lock of the occupied bathroom for show. Her nanomachines flowed into the lock. They quickly disabled the dead bolt, and the door was easy to push open. Jerry was inside. He wasn’t trying to escape her. Her protégé was standing like he wanted to be captured. She rendered him neutral and forced his nanomachines to disable his muscles. She marked him for retrieval, and two other agents appeared in the bathroom. They forced him down on the ground.

The agents burrowed into his short-term memory. It did not cause him pain. Anyone watching them would probably think they were involved in a strange performance art piece. He was frozen, and the agents were staring intently at him. No matter how thoroughly they scanned, the short-term memory was empty.

“He wiped his short-term memory,” one of the agents said.

“Put him in my grayspace. No one sees him except me,” she told the agents.

“Are you…” the agent questioned her.

“Collar him if you have to,” she commanded. The two agents obeyed without further delay. Jerry disappeared with his captors. She picked up the other restroom key and exited the bathroom. She plopped both keys back on the counter. The barista gave her an irritated look and commented about the “Customer’s Only” sign.

Nanette stepped out onto the sidewalk. She scanned for 07760 and found him in the same place across the street. She jumped out into the street. A car honked and sped around her. She dodged through the traffic. Once on the other side, she looked for the homeless man. She pushed past the crowds of people. The homeless man was nowhere to be seen. She scanned the crowd. 07760 had gotten away. The question remained about how he was able to disguise himself so quickly. His hair and beard were real. There was nothing to suggest he double backed on his timeline. Looping a personal timeline was dangerous at best. She was too fixated on the mystery of the homeless man and didn't notice the 07760 without the beard running out of the grocery store across the street with a bag full of fruit. If she had noticed the fruit bearing 07760, she would have thought the homeless 07760 was a glitch in her software.