osmoala

When Tony Cox went through his training to become a super spy he was exposed to all kinds of situations, challenges of course, to see if he was of The Right Stuff. It wasn't so bad and the final tazer test only made him tickle a little. This was not The FBI though.

   Then, along came Carolyn. He met her here in Siem Reap, he was trying to remember if they had met before and when she told him that she couldn't find a decent plate of mashed potatoes in the town he knew she was talking code. He took her to The Red Piano.

   She loved the mustard and honey glazed ribs that come with a mountain of mash, and he did too. He had probably had it ten times in the last two years. That was when he had patiently been waiting for his contact person to show up. Possibly.

   There was small talk and then he asked her a few questions and it was still small talk. Innocent questions to find out who she really was. He deliberately took the conversation a little bit too far and when she was trying to control her temper, trying not to punch him in the face he knew she was the real deal. You're a sleeper agent. That's the spirit! It takes one to see one.

   ”So, what do you do for a living?”

   ”I'm a medical doctor by profession but I haven't practised for twenty years”, she said. ”This mash is sublime...”

   ”I know a lot of doctors and you don't use half the amount of the curse words they do. Are you sure you are a real doctor?”

   ”Of course. Why would I lie about a thing like that? Let's Google and I'll show you.” She was upset with him now and she had every right to be too. Cox wanted to slap himself in the face.

   ”I believe you and now, if you'll excuse me I'll just go to the bathroom and shoot myself in the head.”

   He realized her job at the hospital was the perfect cover for what she was doing for The Organization.

Many of the aliens all over the globe knew perfectly well how to act as humanoids, but a simple screen showed that their bodies did not consist of many of the components that made the human body work. But there was usually carbon. In most places carbon seems to be the universal glue in order to create life.

   Some of the molos were perfect examples of what mother nature comes up with when the conditions are right and many of the aliens he had met were like well oiled machines as they were made up by nano robots. The nanobots were microscopic entities with a goal, they worked individually as well as they cooperated with the rest of the body. Like a bee hive or an anthill. Turned up to superspeed, that is.

   Some had two brains. One for killing and one for praying. They lacked imagination and any sense of humour so they were also arrogant. At Io they would slash your throat to please their god, but that was only one of many different possible futures. Tony Cox was on this timeline to prevent things from turning into catastrofies. It was usually the same story – fanatics love to hate. And the idea that was poisoning their minds was always more important than the individual who might have come up with the very idea itself in the first place. On 10225TP, the mob slashed the throat of the woman who had tried to explain how to control gravity, because it was against what was said in their Holy book.

   You are an individual, and that is what makes you special. With the dreams and hopes and your plans for the future. Everyone has their unique way of looking at the world. It's a treat that should be treasured. So why give up on it?

   He was trying to understand what it was that made the warriors at Tannhauser Gate happily kill anyone, even their own kind, who did not share their version of the ”truth”. He did not get it. But Tony Cox had never been the collective type anyway.

Cox was a sleeper too, and had been for years. Now and then new assignments made him wake up and he was usually ready to go within a few hours. He always had his cabin bag packed with the necessities for a life on the road. Some of it consisted of lethal materials too, but they always passed through the check points and X-ray machines as if they were toothpaste and shaving foam.

Sometimes he was happy about the job, saving the good guys from the bad ones. They were always guys. There surely must be wives somewhere, he thought, or at least female versions, where ever they came from. Maybe they were home cooking and breeding new alien babies. What the hell did he care? Alright – he felt a little bit sorry for the wives because the sometimes vicious life forms you meet on your travels through the multiverse were mostly built on patriarcial societies. Everybody knew how to handle a knife though – the wives in the kitchen and the men, to slash a throat whenever there was an opportunity to get away with murder.

   But sometimes he also felt bad about the work he was doing in order to save humanity – he could not have long lasting relationships and he always had to be ready to be on the go. The assignments always came to him in his dreams, because using telepathy was the most secure way of sending a message.

   This was what he was living for though, saving the planet from the bad guys. Sometimes The Organization sent someone to help him out during a mission. He realized that Carolyn was his contact person. This must be big. But he did not have all the details yet. The only thing he knew so far was that there was a vicious species from Proxima Centauri who were using the ancient energies of Angkor Wat to create havoc and destruction in this part of the world. It was a take over. His mission was to eliminate them. Who they were, and what they looked like he did not know yet.

   He decided to tell her what he knew so far.

   ”This is a huge load of bullshit”, she said. ”Do you even believe one single word of what you are talking about right now?”

   Of course she would say that. She was a professional, and there were eyes and ears everywhere.

   ”No. But do you know who my father is?”

   ”Who is your father?”

   ”Mick Jagger.”

   ”Hah hah haa! Let's pay and go and get a drink somewhere.”

   That was the other part of the secret code. He was happy to have her sitting next to him. Guys passing by their table were staring at her – the blonde hair, the pretty face that combined calm thoughtfulness with spiritual energy coming from the invisible tentacles. Her body was a race car. But they were tourists so they did not worry him at all. No aliens around, so far.

   ”Okay. Let's go.”

   They paid and left the restaurant. They needed to have a staff meeting. Later she would explain to him that time itself was merely an illusion, but he already knew that. And all of a sudden he remembered where he had seen her before. They had met in the future.

And the aliens at Angkor? Cox spotted them and what happened to them later, nobody knows. Some other people came and finished the job.

   ”That would be enough for one day”, Carolyn said. ”Are you eating tonight?”

   ”Of course. What would you like to have?”

   ”I love pizza.”