4 February 2013

Report on Sample 717 Continued (Part 4)

Following on from here:

As the officer questioned Edrig the policewoman stood rather stiffly beside the door.

'First of all Sir. The rucksack with nearly a hundred thousand pounds in it. Where did that come from? Oh and perhaps you may be lucky that one of the drunks who took it fell down the stairs with it in his excitement, spilling all the money over the floor. But what are you doing with a rucksack containing so much money? I am sure you have a good explanation, but I would like to hear it.'

The policeman paused, while Edrig remained silent, thinking.

'Then secondly sir, this name and nationality you gave... Edrig Man, Arab? What is that all about sir? You do not seem Arabian to me. And the previous or current address. You wrote No. So what is that all about? Who actually are you sir?'

While Edrig pondered his reply the door opened and another uniformed policeman came in and slipped a note of paper onto the desk in front of Edrig's interrogator.

'Wow!' the interrogator exclaimed. 'So... we also have the issues of a credit card with a huge limit on it... remarkable... but a credit card that the issuing bank has no knowledge of. This has just got even more interesting, hasn't it sir?'

Edrig felt completely helpless, and had no idea of what to say or what to do. Well, what could he do? He was clearly in their control. But what to say?

Eventually, after thinking for a while, he pulled out his notebook and, finding the relevant page, he offered it to the policeman.

'Oh... A problem with your voice? Yes, the hotel owner did tell us that you had a very strange voice. But you can speak a little can't you?'

'Yes,' squeaked Edrig, quietly.

The policeman then began flicking through Edrig's notepad and slowly reading what he found there:

'Foreign... Far away...  nice ladies in Perth... Pole dancer ladies... Not naked men... Who will I have to share the bed with? A lady?'

The officer laid the notebook on the table and looked at Edrig intently.

'So... once again. Who are you? What is going on? Where did you get the cash from and why have you got a seemingly forged credit card with a huge limit on it?'

Edrig felt like the callow youth that, in his own land, he really was. And he considered that perhaps honesty might be the only policy left open to him. Confess. Open up.

'Well?' demanded the policeman, clearly growing impatient.

Edrig turned his face away from the man's intent gaze and found himself looking at the policewoman. The nice pretty policewoman, and he suddenly remembered an image that he had seen on the wall outside the pole dancing club while he had stood admiring its publicity pictures with Adrig. One of the photographed pole dancers had been wearing a policewoman's hat just like this nice lady now standing over Edrig. But she had otherwise been naked to the waist, with just a tiny frilly skirt covering her most significant parts. What a strange land this is, Edrig pondered, while looking at the policewoman's rather bulky thick uniformed tunic and black trousers, and receiving an unfriendly stare from her in return.

'I can only tell you the truth,' Edrig finally began,quietly.

'What was that?'

'Sorry,' replied Edrig, making a great effort to lower the pitch of his voice further.

'I can only tell you the truth.'

'Which is?'

'Well... the truth is that I am from another place.'

'Another place?'

'Another... Well, what you would call another planet.'

'What?'

'I'm from another planet. Another world. I am not from here. I am not from Earth.'

'You're certainly on another planet,' the policeman laughed, looking across at the policewoman who was also smiling now.

Edrig took the lovely lady's smile to be a hopeful sign, so he continued.

'I am studying your Sample... well... your Planet Earth. I am over two hundred of your years old. The cash is fake, as well as the credit card. I am sorry. It would be better if I just went home perhaps.'

Edrig felt very pleased with how easily the words came to him. This was proving to be an easy language for him.

Both police officers gazed at him, and their smiles faded.

'Oh dear,' said the male officer, 'Well, at least now I have a better idea of what I am dealing with. Either... a complete nutter... Or... a piss artist trying to have a laugh... Or... a crazy defence... Or... of course... perhaps a two hundred year old alien from another planet who has arrived here to study Planet Earth. Ha ha.'

'Yes, that's right. The last one,' Edrig confirmed.

There was a long silence.

'Well OK then,' the policeman eventually replied. 'Well... we will obviously need to remove your fake cash and your fake credit card. You can appreciate that, yes?'

'Yes of course,' Edrig agreed, feeling pleased and slightly more relaxed.

'And we will need to keep you here for a while as all this is investigated, which I presume you won't object to anyway, since you have no money and nowhere to stay.'

'I paid for a week,' Edrig pointed out.

'Eh? Oh yes... but paid with forged cash apparently, although I have to say it doesn't look at all forged to me. Anyway, I expect you'll just get beamed up back home sometime soon, won't you?'

'Probably not,' Edrig conceded sadly, 'They don't know where I am.'

'What?'

'I ran away.'

'You ran away from your alien world! Oh man this just gets better and better! Ha ha. Well, OK, we are going to put you in a cell for now. Do you want a cup of tea and something to eat?'

'Oh. Yes please,' said Edrig enthusiastically. This was all very civilised. Things were looking better now.

And he was kept in police custody for the rest of the day and overnight, while his situation was 'investigated' and he conceded during occasional 'further enquiries' that he had no national insurance number, no passport, no record of any previous addresses, no history of employment, no birth certificate or national health record. Nothing.

How could he have any of these things, he argued quietly, given that he was a being from another world, aged over two hundred Earth years, who had ran away from home.

As he lay overnight in his cell, in between intermittent bouts of sleep, he persuaded himself that even a life in prison in this place would be better than a life back home in the service of his Lady Lord. But what would they make of him, he mused, as he lived on an on, outliving many generations of his jailers as his resilient chromosomes slowly matured into adulthood? A few thousand years of life could be expected, assuming he aged in this place at the same rate as he would age at home. A few thousand years in prison? Surely not. He would rather quickly become a celebrity, surely, and would rather quickly come to be believed. Oh, but celebrity status would attract attention from home. Oh... And he soon pondered that he had many other things to worry about other than the minor inconvenience of being incarcerated in a police cell overnight.

But eventually, in the late morning of the next day, they released him.

'This is a very strange business,' the station sergeant told him, there being no sign of his questioner from the previous day. 'We will require you to attend here again in five day's time, and that you do not leave Perth. Oh, unless you get beamed back home eh?'

And the policeman smiled at him, so he smiled back.

'Your accommodation will be good for the week that you paid for, because no complaint about your payment has been made and as far as we can see the cash is genuine, but of course you won't be getting the cash back, meantime, as our inquiries continue, and you won't be getting the seemingly forged credit card back, although we can't really see that it is a forgery, to be honest with you. And as we explained you could challenge these things if you wish to using the services of a lawyer, but you don't wish to, do you?'

'No.'

'Very strange,' repeated the sergeant, 'Very strange.'

And then Edrig was released, and with no good plan that he could think of he wandered back to his hotel, wondering what he was going to do now. Wondering. Worried. Alone.

But as he approached the hotel he saw something that greatly surprised him. A blue van bearing a Ford insignia parked outside.

Could it be? Or just a coincidence?

He approached cautiously and walked to the side of the van and... yes... there was the closed hatch.

Adrig?

Macrig?

How?

He quickly gazed farther up the street, and there, sitting on a low wall just a short distance away, was Adrig.

2 comments:

Claude said...

Good thing Adrig arrived. Or I would have gone to Perth myself to help Edrig.

Don QuiScottie said...

And he would have been very pleased to see someone so much younger than himself, dear Claude, yet so much wiser :)