A Virago Of A Virus

Yes, very late this time. Put simply, I must have picked up a nasty virus while in Copenhagen, pointing out likely sniper positions that could, if employed, disrupt proceedings. Actually, that boondoggle could have used a good dash of reality, but attentive readers, and which of you are not, already know my position on global warming.

Anyway, here I was, back in Toronto at the Manor, and flat on my back. This was a body position more in keeping with the Compte de Rienville than coping with a vicious bug, but what can you do? Yet I continue to believe that we create our own reality, that an illness is in fact dis-ease, and therefore there was a reason for my coughing, lack of sleep, fever, loss of appetite, and innumerable aches and pains. I was obviously uneasy about something, but what?

So, a chance to reflect. Where had the virus come from? The only time I was exposed in Copenhagen was when I had to make my way through the protesters to retrieve a certain microdot for Sir Harry, and get it out of the country. Easy-peasy -- I am a woman, and microdots can be hidden in a variety of places, places only the most stalwart of custom officials would dare to look. They didn't, and Sir Harry was pleased.

Must have been the protesters, a scruffy bunch of Muslims screaming for the downfall of Switzerland. Something about minarets that escaped me, and what this had to do with global warming remains a mystery. And why the Swiss, of all people? I mean, a thousand years of democracy, and what have they produced? The cuckoo clock.

As for the virus, this might be the 'where' of the question, but not the 'why'. The answer still eluded me.

After two days of absolute misery, things were beginning to look up, both literally and figuratively (I was still flat on my back). A visit by Matilda Hatt helped as well.

She entered, bearing a pot of tea that she said worked wonders. I was at that point more interested in a serious Laphroaig, but drank the stuff anyway.

"This is good,Tilly," I said. What is it?"

"A special mixture. Lavender, with just a titch of belladonna."

"Belladonna! That's poison --"

"Only in certain doses. A very small amount gets your insides on full alert, and they attack anything out of the norm. In this case, your virus."

"And just where, Dr. Hatt, did you learn this?"

"Yemen. And you know about that. As for Copenhagen, I can report that there were no incidents."

"Wasn't there someone from Zimbabwe caught in the vault of the UBS Bank?

"Yeah, the silly bugger was attempting a robbery. And the fact that he got that far is a tribute to the rotten security of UBS. Bloody initials should read 'Used To Be Smart'. And why the climate conference organizers let Mugabe in, well, there's no accounting for stupidity.

"Now, Tilly," I replied, "he has a low carbon footprint."

"Sure he does. Destroying an entire country will do that."

This produced small silence. One cannot argue with the inarguable. Then Tilly said, "Oh, I had a small talk with your Sir Harry. He's found a new sniper that might be able to match your abilities."

"Yes, Code Barry is very good indeed."

"No," Tilly replied, 'this person is not with CSIS. Someone being groomed by Sir Harry himself. He said she reminded him of you in your younger days."

"She?"

"She. But that's all I could get from Mr. Secrecy. You know how he is."

"Too well."

Tilly left shortly after, and following a moment's reflection, I had a very disturbing thought. A very disturbing thought, and quite likely the cause of my viral distress. This needs dealing with, I thought, and very soon. Stay tuned.