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+--- Thread: The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor (/showthread.php?tid=11744)
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - Zapp - 03-02-2009
Esther simply shook her head and walked away from the bar slowly. As she turned the first corner and left Max's line of vision, she broke into a run for the nearest comm terminal. She called Lachlan McArthur and informed him that she had found his sister, and that she was suffering from amnesia. She tactfully left out her current predicament, but promised to keep in touch. She hung up on him as he angrily demanded answers, then she called Carly to tell her what was going on.
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - carlabrams - 03-02-2009
Max got onto the com channels.
"George, this is is Max. We have an issue."
Max explained, and waited for George Graves to respond.
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - pieguy259 - 03-02-2009
Carly by this point had reached that delicate area where one was not quite plastered, but drunk enough to not know or care that another drink would push her over the line. As she reached for the aforementioned drink, her comm unit buzzed. She picked it up after noting the comm ID. "Esther, what did the deputy bossman want?" she asked, somewhat unsteadily.
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - Zapp - 03-03-2009
"Carly, listen to me," she said, her voice laced with urgency. She was trying to break through to her lucidity. "You are not Carly Denver. Your real name is Carolyn McArthur. George is using you! Don't be stupid! Don't--"
The comm-line cut ominously. Someone obviously didn't want Esther to be heard.
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - pieguy259 - 03-03-2009
Carly shook the S/D-issue comm unit. "Hello? Esther? My name is what? I didn't hear you!" She looked at the screen.
COMM UNIT LOCKED.
There was obviously something going on here. She decided to wait until Esther got back before having another drink.
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - Zapp - 03-03-2009
Esther abruptly crashed through the door at a dead run, eyes picking out Carly -- Carolyn -- at the bar. Her momentum carried her straight into Carly, who she bundled up and practically dragged out of the bar. "No time for questions!"
Right as they reached the other door out, a pair of Bounty Hunters brandishing sidearms burst through the door Esther had just come from.
"Stop them!"
"What is going on?" Carly demanded as Esther kept running, out the door, dragging her along.
"The S/D is using you," she panted as she ran down the corridors to the docking bay. "Your real name is Carolyn McArthur, your brother is in the BPA and paid me to find you. That's what me and Max discussed, and why they're chasing us. Hurry."
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - Athenian - 03-03-2009
"Oh. for heavens sake, stop this ridiculous melodrama."
It was Graves. Stix, a mean killer even by Agency standards, was standing next to him blocking the entrance to Bay one. There was another man with them who looked like a doctor by his white coat. He had thick spectacles, was balding and had the least comforting demeanour of anyone in the medical profession.
"Carson, this has gone on long enough. I have to admit your detective skills are outstanding, but frankly, your sensitivity in psych-trauma is below amatuerish."
He gestured to the man in the coat.
"This is Bob. He's our Chief Medical Officer, and he has something to tell you."
Bob's accent was a strange mix of Liberty and Rheinland like someone from a poorly acted Frankenstein movie.
"Aha....Ms. Denver...or is it MacArthur? Aha...well...from the medical data, it would appear your brain has a lesion zat is inoperable. The damage to the tissue is severe. Any more unguided interference and casual attempts to recover your memories could have caused long-term damage, and possible psychosis."
He openly frowned at Carson.
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Frau, I mean Dame Carson. But Miss Denver here needs professional help."
He turned to Carly.
"You have a choice, Miss Denver. We have perfected a new surgical technique that may assist you. However it is still at an experimental stage, and involves .... well ... a procedure you may find unsettling. Now, Herr Graves, here, he has attempted to engineer an environment where your difficulties with your amnesia might be limited, but it seems your brother's efforts mean we will have to act a little sooner than anticipated."
Graves lit a cigarette.
"Your choice, Denver. Forget De Virgo's mumbo-jumbo. He stalled for time for me. Ingenious guy. I liked the part where he said my knackers had been shot off. When you walked into our recruitment office, we said we'd put a roof over your head until such time as we could help you out. And this mess has meant I've had to get Bob here to move things along a little more quickly."
His voice wasn't unkind or harsh. In fact, it seemed that he was being genuinley affectionate towards Carson and Carly.
"Young women lost in this world don't always have the luck to meet people who possess some degree of humanity or civility. But you did."
He seemed to pause for a second to compose himself.
"It's your choice, Denver. Bob here can help you and try to end this nightmare once and for all, but there are risks involved. Either that or you leave now in this confused state and risk remaining like that for what's left of your life."
He made the slightest of gestures to Stix, who stood to one side.
"You aren't a criminal, Carly. The Agency has an employment contract signed by you that's as worthless as a Corsair's promise to turn vegetarian. If you leave now, I'll sign the form releasing you from service with the Agency myself."
He smilled.
"What's it gonna be, kid?"
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - Zapp - 03-03-2009
Esther shrugged and sort of stood off, watching with impassive interest. Ball was in Carly's court now, and either way she was sure Lachlan McArthur would pay her.
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - pieguy259 - 03-04-2009
"Your name is Carolyn McArthur..."
It was amazing, the power of a name. Especially that one. Hearing her name, her real, true, name, had knitted together shattered fragments whirling through Carly's mind.
And then the dam had burst.
The effect of twenty-six years of memories flooding into the brain at once is not exactly slight. If one were to chart it, it would go something like this:
First steps preschool kindergarten fell over and cut my knee primary school tenth birthday leaving Leeds entering boarding school on New London dormitories exams first kiss dancing in ballroom...
The images flashed before her eyes and slotted, like jigsaw pieces, into the appropriate slots.
graduation going home air choking Mum and Dad and Lachlan home too poor for university Dad working on short time no no NO have to LEAVE...
The turmoil continued.
Manhattan Honest Bob Starflier Junker Mammoth Cambridge perfect place laugh of the Mon'Star and lived Alien Organism run Outcast probably a rookie hostile Jump Gate thing against traders lovely shiny new Train slaves the blooming cheek barging into Poole tropics are deadly luxury foods Denver walk into bar drink tastes funny blurring fading blackout CAROLYN MCARTHUR
"Aaaaaah!" Carly screamed, clutching at her head and dropping to her knees right after Graves had asked what it was going to be. "My head..."
The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor - Zapp - 03-05-2009
"You alright?" Esther asked, leaning forward with worry on her face.