Fragment Friday

Meet Agent Silver

Jack’s a government employee. Which has it’s own problems, of course - but a nice, relaxing Monday doing paperwork isn’t one of them. Until his boss calls him in to talk about some unexpected field work…

What follows is a fragment from “Terms of Employment”, a work in progress that started as a short story but now seems to want to stretch itself a bit.

I had barely started to contemplate the beauty of the NPS-GSI-867-5309 weekly report (“Phone Calls, For The Logging Of”) when the phone on the desk buzzed. I snorted at the irony, laid down the form, and picked up the phone.

“Jack!” Hansen bellowed. Didn’t even let me say hello. “I need you in my office.”

I sighed again. “Right away, sir.” I hung up the phone, looked longingly at my pile of 100% non-deadly paperwork, then pushed back my old office chair. I took the time to stretch as I stood up, then grabbed my coffee and sauntered towards Tom’s office, sipping carefully as I went.

It was Monday morning, for crying out loud. He could wait a few seconds while I caffeinated myself.

Tom was flipping through his own pile of paperwork when I walked into his office. He grunted to acknowledge me, then motioned for me to close the door and have a seat. I dragged an overstuffed chair that had seen better days into position so I could stretch out my legs when I sat down, then kicked the door shut.

Gently, though. Tom’s a good boss, as witnessed by the fact that he continued to shuffle paperwork for a few more seconds. That gave me the time to settle down into my seat and grab a few more sips of coffee. He finally found whatever it was he was looking for and pushed the rest of the papers aside.

“Ever been to Pittsburgh?” Tom’s not big on small talk.

“Once, years ago,” I said. I pursed my lips, remembering. “Passed through, oh, along about the turn of the century.”

Tom started to nod, then frowned. “Wait. This century, or the last?”

Now, most people wouldn’t have even realized they needed to clarify a question like that. Like I said, though - Tom’s a good boss. Even if he is a career middle manager for the government.

“Last. I understand it’s changed a lot since then.”

Tom snorted. “You could say that. They have parks now, for one thing.”

I blinked. That was not the Pittsburgh I remembered. “Really? Wait - are we talking about the same place? Hell with the lid off?”

Tom raised an eyebrow as he handed me the paper he had dug up. “Not since forever. It’s really been that long for you?”

“Yeah. You know how it is,” I said absentmindedly as I looked over the paper. It was a color printout of an aerial view of - well, I was assuming it was Pittsburgh. There was a whole lot more green than I was expecting to see.

“Oakland,” said Tom. So I was kind of right, I guess. “One of Pittsburgh’s neighborhoods. The blob of green in the center is Schenley Park. Golf course, swimming pool, skating rinks.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Phipps Botanical Gardens.”

I let out of low whistle. Phipps was a Big Name in our business.

“I knew they were western PA. I didn’t realize they were actually in Pittsburgh.” I furrowed my brow as a thought occurred to me. “They having problems?”

“Noooo,” Tom shrugged. “Or, rather - they may be. One of their guys was out for a walk last week, and claims that he found troll spoor in the park.”