SPACE AGENT
By; Speaker Gerald A. Polley
All rights reserved.
Chapter One
"Acquire His Assistance!"
Donald Eldrige was a Federal Agent that fit his
locale to a "T". He was tall, muscular and blonde, just
the thing for a southern resort area. He usually dealt with fraud
and once and a while, counter espionage. But the phone call he
had just gotten seemed like something out of a science fiction
story. He had gathered three agents and rushed to a local hotel.
His instructions were to obtain the assistance of a man working
there in as friendly a manner as possible, without delving too
much into the man's history or affairs.
They came to a halt by the kitchen door and Agent Eldridge got
out, positioning his men by hand signals.
He entered the door and looked around the busy kitchen. A cook
approached him. "Sorry sir," he announced, "no one
is allowed back here without permission."
"I'm sorry," the agent replied, "but it's an
emergency. I have to speak to someone called The Reverend, right
away."
The cook looked him up and down. "You're not going to cause
the Reverend any trouble are you?" the cook asked in a
rather course manner.
"No," the agent assured him, "it's just vitally
important I speak with him."
The cook went to an intercom. "Hey, Johnny," he called,
"There's somebody back here looking for the Reverend. I
think he's a cop. Shall I send him through?"
"Yeah!" a gruff voice answered.
"Straight through," the cook pointed. "The maitre
d' will take you to him."
The agent made his way through the kitchen, entered the dining
room and a bear of a man approached him. "This way," he
growled. He led the agent to a second level and into a ladies'
rest room that had a barricade across the door.
"Hey Reverend!" the huge man cried, "Somebody
looking for you. Cop of some kind. Want me to stay?"
"No problem, Benjamin," came a voice from one of the
stalls. "Leave him."
The huge man gave the agent one more look and then walked off.
When the door closed behind him the agent made his way to the
booth out of which a pair of legs was sticking. The man inside
was tightening a fitting under the toilet.
"What can I do for you, young man?" the man asked.
The young man licked his lips. "Are you The Reverend?"
he asked.
"Who sent you?" the man questioned, "Green or
Parks?"
"Green, sir," the agent answered.
"Then you're bureau," the man continued.
"Yes, sir," the agent acknowledged.
"Well, this is something new. You boys still consider me the
subversive type?"
"Ah....no, sir," the agent stammered. "There's a
problem, sir, in Wyoming. Some of your friends, sir, dropped in
for a visit; real hard, sir. Washington would appreciate your
help. They would be glad to evacuate the area if your friends
wish to make a pick up."
The man finished what he was doing, sat up and turned a valve.
The loud noise of the toilet filling seemed to take his entire
interest. When the noise stopped he flushed it then began to
gather up his tools. "Not a prayer, son," he finally
said. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He made his way from the rest room, took down the barricade, and
began to carry it, and, his tools, toward an elevator.
"Look, sir," the agent pleaded, "I know you keep a
low profile. You don't much care for the government and certain
parts of the government doesn't much care for you. But we've got
some real scared people out there. There's no sign of life from
this thing. They're afraid it's going to go BOOM or something.
It's slightly radioactive. They don't know what else it might be.
Give us a break, will you, sir?"
The older man stared at the agent, then nodded his head. "I
can't do much in here," he exclaimed, "too much
interference from the fluorescent lights, and electronic
gizmos."
They exited the elevator in a corridor off the kitchen. The man
put his equipment in a room marked , maintenanc, stuck his head
in the kitchen to tell the cook he was taking a break, then went
out through another door. One of the other agents greeted him.
But with a wave of Eldridge's hand the man gave way.
The Reverend made his way to a park like area a little ways from
the main building, sat down on a gaudy modern sculpture, and
closed his eyes. The two agents stood by nervously for several
minutes. When the Reverend opened his eyes again, they had taken
on a steel cold nature.
"You've got troubles son, all right," he announced,
"but it's more trouble than anybody in this world could ever
want."