Babylon Tales | Nathan Weaver, author

An Agent's Song
Madame Superior was at her wit’s end. If she was in fact witty and if there could potentially be an end to such a wit, there she was before its presence. McCallum was on the loose with Jack’s diary or perhaps he was dead in an alley and the diary was in The Others’ hands or perhaps there was worse, though she couldn’t think of anything that could be worse.

Agent Brown entered her office, licking his hands and quickly swabbing his hair down, “Madame Superior, a word?”

“It better be good word,” she said as she paced about her office, glasses hanging from the corner of her mouth as she bit into the frame.

“Madame,” Agent Brown closed the door behind him, “Word about the office is that Ms. Vivian has been in contact with McCallum.”

Madame Superior stopped pacing, removed glasses from her mouth and looked sternly at Agent Brown, “Really? I pay you to seek out office rumors?”

“Shall I bring Ms. Vivian in, Madame?”

“Yes,” she sighed, “It’s the only lead we have.”

When Agent Br…

An Agent's Song
Madame Superior was at her wit’s end. If she was in fact witty and if there could potentially be an end to such a wit, there she was before its presence. McCallum was on the loose with Jack’s diary or perhaps he was dead in an alley and the diary was in The Others’ hands or perhaps there was worse, though she couldn’t think of anything that could be worse.

Agent Brown entered her office, licking his hands and quickly swabbing his hair down, “Madame Superior, a word?”

“It better be good word,” she said as she paced about her office, glasses hanging from the corner of her mouth as she bit into the frame.

“Madame,” Agent Brown closed the door behind him, “Word about the office is that Ms. Vivian has been in contact with McCallum.”

Madame Superior stopped pacing, removed glasses from her mouth and looked sternly at Agent Brown, “Really? I pay you to seek out office rumors?”

“Shall I bring Ms. Vivian in, Madame?”

“Yes,” she sighed, “It’s the only lead we have.”

When Agent Br…

An Agent's Valentine
Robert McCallum was in a deep sleep when his mattress overturned onto him. He woke falling from mattress to floor; he was quickly covered with the mattress and felt the weight of three grown men jump on top. He looked ahead and saw through a small half circle that the lights turned on. He began to breathe heavily, for this was his weakness. McCallum was a claustrophobic.

He moved back and forth, trying to squirm towards the light, but the more he squirmed the more the men weighted down on him. He heard a male voice speak,

“Mr. McCallum, you have a diary that is not your own,” from the positioning of the voice to his ears, he could tell that the Voice was a fourth person in the room, “You should seriously consider giving me that diary.”

McCallum could feel that he would hyperventilate, if he didn’t take measures fast. He closed his eyes and the light was gone. It was all black now. The Voice spoke on,

“Mr. McCallum, I know you think you are an honorable man …

An Agent's Valentine
Robert McCallum was in a deep sleep when his mattress overturned onto him. He woke falling from mattress to floor; he was quickly covered with the mattress and felt the weight of three grown men jump on top. He looked ahead and saw through a small half circle that the lights turned on. He began to breathe heavily, for this was his weakness. McCallum was a claustrophobic.

He moved back and forth, trying to squirm towards the light, but the more he squirmed the more the men weighted down on him. He heard a male voice speak,

“Mr. McCallum, you have a diary that is not your own,” from the positioning of the voice to his ears, he could tell that the Voice was a fourth person in the room, “You should seriously consider giving me that diary.”

McCallum could feel that he would hyperventilate, if he didn’t take measures fast. He closed his eyes and the light was gone. It was all black now. The Voice spoke on,

“Mr. McCallum, I know you think you are an honorable man …

Agency Lessons
Robert McCallum came into work, dressed up to the nines and ready to take on the world. He was on cloud nine. Nothing could stop him now. Not the rain, not a freight train. He was invincible. Of course, Dr. Klein didn’t know this. Doctor Klein knew very little, in fact. He was always very behind in the times. He was always the last to find things out, and yet he was always the first to strike. He was notorious for being arrogant. All the other words in every language could not summarize Dr. Klein more. Doctor Klein was arrogant,

“Robert, there you are,” he said, eager to abuse an ego, “Where’s my coffee?”

“Make it yourself, Dr. Klein,” McCallum stopped for just a brief moment, “I’m an agent now. Excuse me, Madame is waiting.”

McCallum whisked away, behind him he could hear Dr. Klein’s frustration, “An agent?! And why haven’t I heard about this? Why am I always the last to hear about things around here? Was he not my chief clerk? How come I don’t get a say in…

Agency Lessons
Robert McCallum came into work, dressed up to the nines and ready to take on the world. He was on cloud nine. Nothing could stop him now. Not the rain, not a freight train. He was invincible. Of course, Dr. Klein didn’t know this. Doctor Klein knew very little, in fact. He was always very behind in the times. He was always the last to find things out, and yet he was always the first to strike. He was notorious for being arrogant. All the other words in every language could not summarize Dr. Klein more. Doctor Klein was arrogant,

“Robert, there you are,” he said, eager to abuse an ego, “Where’s my coffee?”

“Make it yourself, Dr. Klein,” McCallum stopped for just a brief moment, “I’m an agent now. Excuse me, Madame is waiting.”

McCallum whisked away, behind him he could hear Dr. Klein’s frustration, “An agent?! And why haven’t I heard about this? Why am I always the last to hear about things around here? Was he not my chief clerk? How come I don’t get a say in…

An Agent's Burial
Robert McCallum entered Madame Superior’s office and took a seat; he was looking dashing in his black suit and thin, black tie. His blonde hair was always short and precisely cut. No one had ever seen one hair out of its place nor had they ever seen one shred of stubble on his soft face. The only complaint anyone ever had of him was that he looked drunk when he was sober and sober when he was drunk. Though, truthfully, he was seldom drunk or even tipsy. He held liquor like an ox.

Women desired him and men didn’t mind him, so long as they weren’t trying to make a move. No moves could be made when McCallum was in the room. No moves could counteract the look of cool and the precision of his witty banter. He had a streak for the sarcastic. And despite that he almost always seemed drunk; he was calm and suave. It was as if Dean Martin’s drunken-calm morphed with Steve McQueen’s body and became a member of The Remo Four.

“I didn’t ask you to sit, Mr. McCallum,” Madame Sup…

An Agent's Burial
Robert McCallum entered Madame Superior’s office and took a seat; he was looking dashing in his black suit and thin, black tie. His blonde hair was always short and precisely cut. No one had ever seen one hair out of its place nor had they ever seen one shred of stubble on his soft face. The only complaint anyone ever had of him was that he looked drunk when he was sober and sober when he was drunk. Though, truthfully, he was seldom drunk or even tipsy. He held liquor like an ox.

Women desired him and men didn’t mind him, so long as they weren’t trying to make a move. No moves could be made when McCallum was in the room. No moves could counteract the look of cool and the precision of his witty banter. He had a streak for the sarcastic. And despite that he almost always seemed drunk; he was calm and suave. It was as if Dean Martin’s drunken-calm morphed with Steve McQueen’s body and became a member of The Remo Four.

“I didn’t ask you to sit, Mr. McCallum,” …