Time Agency Read Online Free

was a secret agent, then I could assume there was a reason why I was here, lacking memory. The sluggish haze I first felt yesterday was probably drugs wearing off in my system. A hospital would be open this late. I could have them test for drugs. That would at least let me know something, but a hospital seemed risky. I felt like I didn’t want to contact anyone official until I knew more about myself. There were other ways I could find out more information about my condition. If the memory loss were from a major surgery, then I would be heavily drugged. Surgery would mean a bandage.
    I checked myself for bandages. I dug my fingers into my hair that was still well groomed, rubbed my chest and back, felt down my legs, and even checked my genitals. If a campus security guard arrested me for indecent exposure, maybe I would get inside the campus. Then I would use my secret agent skills to break myself out of campus security. Although, avoiding police or any security was probably in my best interest. I should have smelled from the lack of shower, but I couldn’t tell. The anxious sweat soaked into my clothes but didn’t leave an odor. I sniffed my armpits very deeply. There was no smell. I checked for stubble on my face. There was none. I should be way shabbier.
    I was clean like the city. Why was I expecting filth? The city smelled fine. The air was crisp like when a breeze rolled in from the ocean. But it wasn’t natural. I was in a major city. There should have been a myriad of bad smells, but all I sensed were good ones: the fresh fruit of a grocer, baked bread of the café, and the sea breeze scent of the city. I didn’t smell car exhaust, oil, sewage, mold, rot, or filth. During my entire walk, I didn’t see a single piece of trash. There were dumpsters with waste, but even they were very tidy. They didn’t have a single speck on them. There should be a stain on the side of every dumpster: a rotting milk container spilled by a careless employee, a shattered booze bottle tossed at the dumpster carelessly, or urine from a man who couldn’t hold it. But there was nothing. The sidewalks were also perfect. There should be at least one piece of gum squished into a round black bump on the sidewalk.
    That’s when I realized that I didn’t even see a single homeless person during the walk. Homeless people always lived in the cities. They survived on the refuse and charity of others. People in this city obviously lived a cushioned life. It was as if the grit of the city was stripped away, or perhaps it was like the homeless people of the city were stripped away.
    I figured out one aspect about myself. I was a pessimist rather than an optimist. If I had been an optimist, the lack of homeless people and cleanliness of the city would make me think the city was a great place because they must take care of their citizens. But I was a pessimist because homeless people didn’t just stop existing. They had to go somewhere, and I imagined that wherever it was, I shouldn’t find out or at least not be discovered as a homeless person.
    Maybe I wasn’t a secret agent, but a banker who angered the wrong people. The file in the briefcase could be my portfolio. They would leave me on the street with no money and a wiped memory. What choices would I have than to become homeless? And everyone knows what happens to homeless people. No, I needed to get some clothes before I began to look homeless. I may look fine now, but it would be only a matter of time before I started looking homeless. Maybe I was paranoid, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong with this city.

Event 4 - N
     
    Nanette appeared into an empty gray space with no discernible walls, ceiling, or floors. The substance that permeated the room with millions of machines was gray. Her business suit and shoes were black in stark contrast to the background. She had ruby red lipstick and earrings for a flash of color. The room began to shift and swirl with