“Spy, actually. Capacity two. I’m here to keep the lid on a dangerous situation.”
“Personal capacity.”
“To discover if you are a free agent.”
Kevin regarded Marlow with a wary eye. Somehow, baseball issues didn’t seem to be appropriate under the circumstances. “You want to tell me what a free agent is?”
Marlow sighed, himself. “That’s difficult under the best of circumstances. A free agent is just that. An agent who’s free to act upon his own initiative. One who takes moral responsibility for all his or her actions.”
“You’re a free agent?”
“In no sense of the word. I’m a bound agent, but with my own agenda. I suspect my, ah, boss would not entirely approve which makes what I do risky. I don’t cross the line often, but do when I think the situation demands it. Free agents are rare and incredibly important. I might have been a free agent, had I been given the choice, but you might say my contract got scooped up before I knew what the true situation was. I now have to do things that I know, sometimes, in my heart, aren’t the best course of action. Because of my oaths, I’m bound.
“But there are some loop holes and once I knew what they were, I resolved to make full use of them. I expect I’ll get caught someday and pay the price.”
Kevin stared at the man, wondering. Good, evil? Were those the opposing forces that Marlow described? Somehow, Kevin didn’t think they were.
“No, things aren’t as simple as good and evil. They’re incredibly more complex than that. Be aware that there are many, many powers and what the Western world terms to be ‘God’ is actually a combination of a number of different powers. A consortium, you might say. Or a lunatic with multiple personalities, another might. Evil is a bit simpler, but still not the cardboard figure that Satan is usually thought of in America, or in my own homeland of England.”
Kevin’s head came up suddenly, to stare at the face in front of him. A couple of alarms went off. “Chris Marlow. Christopher Marlowe? As in The Jew of Malta and The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus Marlowe?” The face should have been framed by black hair and a goatee. The blond hair and clean-shaven face before him looked only vaguely familiar. The mouth was the same, he decided. That was about it.
Chris smiled. “The same.”
“You’re dead.”
“Not hardly, to quote John Wayne.”
“You died in tavern brawl.”
“Don’t tell me you believe everything you read?” Marlowe looked amused.
The room suddenly shook several times and Marlowe sighed. My patron is getting suspicious. I don’t have much time. Thumbnail – you passed all tests. You are indeed a free agent and I think likely to be a powerful one. I suspect you’ll be a major thorn in many sides before you’re done. You also can turn down all of the jobs, so to speak…”
“How?”
Marlowe smiled thinly. “Ignore unpleasant, unorthodox facts. Avoid doing what you think needs to be done.” The room shook again. Much more violently. “Kevin, the choice is yours and I won’t be seeing you again. It’s likely I won’t be seeing anybody again, as soon as you leave. I wish you luck, but I think you’ll make your own.”
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