PART TWO
“So, tell me about Earth?”
Drake tried, but as far as he knew, he had never been there. “Remember can’t I.”
“Do you remember when you first encountered Ackerman and Grover?”
He tried.
He could remember very few things.
But, he had been tapped on the shoulder, blindfolded, and situated into a car. Someone sat next to him on the back passenger seat, while another drove slow enough to ease an unfit snail on a journey that seemed to take days. Wherever he was being taken, no matter how against his own will it was, there was absolutely nothing he wanted to do about it.
“Can you remember anything about Earth?”
“No.”
“The agents say you did not resist. Did you recognise Ackerman or Grover?”
“No.”
The Advisory tried a different tack. “What can you tell me about the rain, Mr Blank?”
Rain did not so much fall as plummet and ricochet onto the roof of the car as it crawled through the water logged road. The strong swishes of the windscreen wipers swept litres of water per second from the drivers view, but he could still see bugger all.
“You’ve missed the turn again Grover!” Complained the deep, frustrated voice of the man sitting next to Drake. Drake could not see the map, but heard it torn into four angry pieces.
“I am doing my best, Ackerman, but this is bloody ridiculous!” The driver leered over the wheel, pressing his nose against the windscreen. “Bloody Noah didn’t have this much weather to contend with!”
“If we don’t get a move on, this one is going to forget everything.”
“I can’t stop the rain.”
“Argument the remember can I.” Said Drake smiling, relieved he had at least one glimmer of light shining in recall.
“Which argument?” The advisory shuffled closer. “Tell me about the argument.”
Grover parked the car at the threshold of an enormous security gate surrounded by 20 foot electric fencing laced with barbed wire. He got out and was gone three seconds, before returning to the car looking like an iceberg had melted on him. Seconds later the gate whirred open, steel scraped against steel, and they drove in.
“Do you know who you are?” Ackerman asked Drake desperately, as if he were a doctor hanging onto the pulse of a dying patient.
“Erm..?” Answered Drake as honestly as he could.
“You see?” Exclaimed Ackerman, exasperated. “He’s forgetting! We have found the one that can bring this farce to an end once and for all, and he is forgetting!”
“Then keep reminding him.”
“Reminding him of what? He doesn’t have a story!”
“Then make one up, he is supposed to be fictional! If we don’t keep at least one little grey cell pumping information through that mysterious head of his, we are going to lose him before the Admirals see him.”
“What exactly do you expect me to do? Plant his family tree?”
“Give him a branch at least…give him a name!”
“Okay.” Ackerman faced Drake. “We are going to call you Drake, for the sake of this story. Okay?”
“Okay.” Said Drake.
“Okay.” Confirmed Ackerman. “Happy?” He countered to his cohort.
“Oh yeh,” said Grover stopping the car in the gravel driveway of the enormous Gothic manor house. “Just you tell me when to blow up the first balloon! Come on.”
Drake was hustled out of the car and lead up thirty-nine steps. He would have got less soaked being frog marched through a carwash. The rain hit his head so hard it hurt; his clothing soon became insignificant and clung to his body like a second sloppy skin.
They arrived at an enormous door and, without the need for the formality of knocking; a latch opened revealing two dusty eyes.
“Password.” Said the doorkeeper
“Helicopter.”
“That was yesterdays password.”
Ackerman checked his watch. It was 12.01.
“Shit. I bloody knew we would be too late!” He kicked the door and broke a toe. Karma worked quickly at the Manor.
Grover pushed forward. “Just let us in. It’s cats and poodles out here!”
“There is protocol Grover.” Persisted the jobs-worth doorkeeper. “You know the system. No password, no entry.”
“It’s an emergency!”
“Says you. No password. No entry.”
“We have a non-fictional being with us.” Piped in Ackerman, pulling Drake forward into sight. Thunder rolled from out of the heavens. The storm was spreading.
“What can you tell me about the rain, Mr Blank?”
“Raining was it that only.” Said Drake. “Soaked was I.”
“It still is raining, Mr Blank.” Said the advisory, re-crossing his legs. “Yet another problem as we don’t ever get rain here, actually it has never rained here, until you arrived. Tampering with weather systems would certainly be a crime in the eyes of my employers, if anyone had ever managed it before you. We may have to make a precedent out of this case, if it ever goes to hearing, which is inevitable really. The Admirals are being woken as we speak. It is incredibly important that you realise just how much damage you could potentially do, and are doing, to the space-time continuum if we don’t get this little mess cleared up.”
“They called me Drake.” Drake paused on the clarity of the words, as if a stutter had been magically removed. He spoke again, forwards and with rediscovered confidence. “My name here is Drake.” He smiled.
“Well, Drake…” said the advisory, impressed with the sudden quantum leap in progress. “This case just gets curiouser and curiouser.”
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