Read Time Agency for Free Online Page B

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