Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Gin Tastes Weird
After dinner was done, Norman showed them their quarters. An old office had been converted into a bedroom for them, although with three beds it made things rather cramped. Clarkson and May had taken their showers for the night and Norman brought a fresh set of towels for them to use for the following morning.
"I do apologize, but Young Masters Timothy and Robert have a room that they share, and Young Lady Rose has a room of her own. We are bit tight on space. If you wish to have more space, I could set up a makeshift area in the hangar area."
"No, this is perfectly fine. You've done enough as it is," said May and Norman smiled.
"Not according to Mistress Dorothy. If you need anything, there's a buzzer on the wall. If you wish to raid the fridge for additional snacks, there's one in the kitchenette and one on the 8th floor. I will ask if you do come to the one on the 8th floor, to please watch your step. One wrong turn and you might end up in the laundry room or my living quarters," chuckled Norman.
Norman handed May the towels. May set them on the freshly made beds as Norman handed three bags of clothes to each of them.
"I took the liberty to wash and dry these, but Master Roger has asked that while you are staying here, to please wear these clothes. The mansion doubles as a location to meet with clients from his firm and we can't have another 20+ phone calls about terrorists living in the Smith Residence."
"No, I don't want to be chased by tanks again," said Hammond, sighing as he took the bag from Norman, "Thanks for helping us, mate."
Norman smiled. "Forgive me, but what is this… mate you speak of?"
Clarkson eyed Hammond warily before answering, "It means friend. We use it a lot amongst ourselves. We'll try not to…"
Norman shook his head. "Do not alter the way you speak because of me. I can understand in public, but here in the mansion, feel free to speak as you wish. All Mistress Dorothy ask is that cursing is kept to a minimum, especially strong words like the F-word, B-word, and A-word. The children have taken up mimicking speech and it has already got Master Roger in trouble with Mistress Dorothy once already."
Clarkson chuckled with Norman. "We'll keep that in mind."
"Anything else I can assistant either of you gentlemen with?"
Clarkson, Hammond, and May shook their heads.
"Then I'll bid you good night. Breakfast will be at 9 in the morning."
Norman gave a bow and left, leaving the trio alone. May laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"What a bloody day," he groaned.
"May, did you bring any of your gin with you?" asked Hammond.
"I did, but I'm saving the bottles. I was going to open them once finished filming, but now, I'll crack them open once we get home. And if you're asking for a Gin and Tonic, I'm not wasting it on their bloody tonic water. It tasted weird."
Hammond pouted briefly before getting up.
"I'll take my shower then. Don't move my stuff, Jeremy."
Hammond left and went down the hall to go to the shower. As soon as Clarkson heard the door shut, Clarkson moved Hammond's stuff to the center bed which was on the floor. May shook his head.
"Can we call a truce on the tricks this time? I really don't need him yelling, or you," said May, raising an eyebrow.
"Now we can," replied Clarkson, setting his stuff on the bed nearest to the wall, "I need the support."
May rolled his eyes and dug around his luggage, looking for something to read. Clarkson on the other hand was staring at the ceiling, deep in thought about events that had drastically changed this world. From what he could tell, this world was in the 2050s, but judging from what had seen, the world seemed to revert back to the styles of the 1940s and 1950s, while keeping some modern advancements, mainly the giant robot that they had seen. And yet, a lot of knowledge, like knowledge of the United Kingdom, had been lost.
It's like the world is recovering a huge hit on the head and they're slowly remembering everything that we know. I guess it's amazing that we made it past the early 2000s without any problems in our time.
Clarkson remained in bed thinking, while May kept reading his book. A little while later, Hammond returned to the room.
"CLARKSON!"
Hammond had returned and found his stuff on the center bed on the floor. He was glaring at Clarkson.
"Move your stuff back!" Hammond cried out.
"No, I need the back support from the wall," replied Clarkson, still staring at the ceiling.
"I was there first!"
"And I have a medical reason."
"If you two yobbos don't stop arguing, you're both going to be sleeping on the floor. Clarkson, leave Hammond alone, and Hammond, shut up and lay down. Good. Night!" May chastised them both. He put his book down and rolled over, pulling the covers over him. Clarkson and Hammond looked at each other, then Hammond made a face at May.
"Yes mum," he muttered sarcastically as he set his stuff down by his bag and fell onto the bed, tired. May overheard his comment, rolled back over, and smacked Hammond on the back of his head with his pillow. As May rolled back over, Hammond glared at him, but decided to let it go, putting his face in his pillow.
"That Gin tasted funny," moaned Hammond, "And I'm still sober. I don't want to be sober, not after today."
"You're not getting any of my Gin, so bugger off," came May's muffled voice.
Clarkson sighed.
"Just don't snore, you two. Good night."
And Clarkson rolled over and went to sleep. Hammond sighed, got up, and turned off the light by the table by the door, heading to bed himself.
Why is it always me?
Hammond was wide awake as Clarkson and May were snoring, loudly. Hammond sighed.
This wouldn't be happening if I had not been sober. Oh well. I think I have some ear plugs.
Hammond sat up, taking his phone, and using the light from his phone, began looking for some ear plugs in his bag. He didn't find any.
Bollocks! I know I packed some. They're probably in the car, which is all the way downstairs. Damn it…
Hammond quietly got up and crept out of the room, down the hall, into the living room, and to the lift. He stepped inside, pressed the button for the hangar. The lift began to descend, with Hammond nodding in and out, until the lift sounded and came to a stop. Hammond sleepily walked off the lift, yawning as he looked for his Dodge. He saw the feet of Big O and looked up at his face, staring at it for a moment.
"You're awfully a Big Chap, you know? I dunno how that Roger fellow pays for your fuel. I hate to see your tank empty…"
Hammond began walking to the car, but as he did, Big O's eyes flashed and the lift used to conduct repairs, moved on its own. Whatever tiredness Hammond felt, he now was jolted awake and took a few steps back.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I meant nothing by it! I'm just tired! Please don't hurt me!"
Hammond had closed his eyes out of fear of the movement. It seemed the robot had moved on its own. Was this even normal? Or was this a really bad dream? Hammond pinched himself. No, he was awake. He opened his eyes, looking at Big O. The lift was by his feet. Hammond looked all around him, then back to Big O.
"Do you… you want me to get on that thing?"
Big O's eyes flashed once more. Hammond's curiosity got the better of him and he now walked toward the lift. As soon as he stepped on to it, the lift began to move on its own and stopped at the catwalk. Hammond opened the gate and walked onto the catwalk.
"Um, hello? Why did you bring me here?" he asked, hesitantly.
That's it. I've officially gone mad. I'm talking to a giant robot. God, I'm too sober for this.
Hammond heard a noise, the sound of something opening. Hammond walked back to the controls and found a cabinet had been opened. But inside, were various tools and supplies. And among these tools and supplies, were a jar of ear plugs. Hammond half laughed out of shock, half out of irony. He took a couple of pairs with him.
"How… how did you know I needed these? Oh, where are my manners? Thank you, Big Chap. I'm going to go to bed now…"
The lift for the residence rose to the catwalk level and sounded off. Hammond trotted back, taking a look at Big O once more. Big O flashed his eyes. Hammond shut the lift and hit the button for the main floor, watching Big O until he disappeared from view.
Strange, I'm not scared of him really. Just overwhelmed by his presence. I wonder why he helped me…
Rundown began creeping through the walls of the mansion and drifted its way down the hall, where the trio were sleeping. May and Clarkson jolted awake at the sound while Hammond, having one of his ear plugs fall out during the night (though after he was sound asleep), put the pillow over his head.
"What the bloody hell is that awful tune?" groaned Clarkson, sitting up.
"I would compliment the player's tempo, but God, this is hurting my head," grumbled May as he threw off the sheets.
"MAKE IT STOP!" cried Hammond from underneath his pillow.
As Clarkson and May stepped out into the hallway, they heard Roger yelling.
"DOROTHY! We have guests, remember! Stop, STOP!"
Clarkson and May appeared at the entrance of the hallway as Dorothy stopped playing the piano and Roger turned around. He too had been jolted awake as he had thrown on his robe and his hair was still a mess. He walked quickly over to them.
"I'm so sorry. My wife, if I sleep in or have to be somewhere, it's her way of waking me up."
Clarkson looked visibly confused.
"What on earth did you do to her to warrant such treatment?"
Roger scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, I slept in one time, and I was a louse to her the first night she stayed here."
"It's true," chimed in Dorothy.
May shook his head, then stopped, having a slight headache. "Dear, good job on the tempo, but maybe use it for a different tune? One not so… jarring?"
Dorothy giggled. "I apologize, Mr. May, it won't happen again. At least until you leave."
Roger groaned as Clarkson laughed. May smiled.
"You can call me James, dear."
"Well, then James, did something happen to Mr. Hammond? Where is he?"
Clarkson and May turned around and found Hammond nowhere in sight.
"Hammond?" Clarkson called out. No response.
Clarkson, May, and Roger walked back down the hall and peered into the room. Hammond, at some point, apparently had got hit by May's book, and was lying on the floor, very discombobulated. Clarkson and May laughed out loud while Roger raised an eyebrow.
"It's fine, he's perfectly fine," Clarkson assured Roger. Roger shook his head as Clarkson called down the hallway.
"Miss Dorothy, if you wish to keep playing that tune of yours, you may do so. The look on Mr. Hammond's face is worth more than a 1000 words."
Clarkson found his phone and snapped a photo of Hammond, still seeing stars around his head.
"Someone… please… make it stop…" Hammond whispered painfully.
Breakfast consisted of coffee, eggs, English muffins, jam, and a fresh fruit salad. Despite tasting weird in the flavor or texture, it wasn't bad. And once the trio had their fill, Roger took off to the PEF's Justice Bureau to watch a trial going on that day about the New World Order. Dorothy, on the other hand, took the trio down to the office and began going over their sanctuary paperwork, as well as their case. Norman took their photos for their file. May rubbed his eyes.
"I haven't seen an old camera like that since my school days. My eyes…"
May sat back down as Dorothy tried to keep a reign on the twins running around, while holding the baby.
"You two! Stop this! We have company! And your father has told you many times not run around in the office!"
The twins ignored her, giggling, as they continued chasing each other, but then stopped once they saw the trio looking at them. Tim approached them, staring at them.
"Wanna sit here with us? I think it would help your mum out…" said Hammond gently.
"You talk funny."
"Tim!" Dorothy chastised, "Don't be rude!"
Clarkson and May snickered as Hammond smiled.
"Well, I'm from a different country, so that might have something to do with it. Come here, lad. I'll teach you something, and, for the comfort of Miss Dorothy, it's not a bad word."
Dorothy raised her eyebrow at Hammond.
"It's the name of an animal from where we're from," Hammond added, and Dorothy nodded, giving her approval. Rose, not having her brother to chase anymore, went and sat down with her mother.
"You see that man over there?" Hammond asked, pointing at Clarkson, "The funny looking one?"
Tim laughed. "Yeah?"
"You can call him, 'Orangutang.'"
Clarkson was not pleased as May snickered.
"Very funny, Hammond. Now, if you're done with your shenanigans, I believe Miss Dorothy has questions for us?"
Hammond smiled and gave Tim his glasses to keep him preoccupied. Tim moved his head back, trying to make out the images in the lenses as Dorothy gathered her pen and notepad.
"Alright, let's begin with what happened, in your own words."
"Well, we film a car show where we're from in the UK," said May, "And that's what we were in the middle of doing, in the region called Scotland. While traveling, this horrible fog descended upon us. We didn't think much of it at first. Fog happens a lot where were from. But as the fog started clearing, we saw the Washington Bridge come in view. At first, we thought we were in New York City, then we saw the dome, and realized we had no idea where we were. We had stopped at a petrol station, to figure out our next move, which would've been contacting friends or our embassy, but then your Dastun fellow began chasing us with tanks. We got scared and ran, until we found your husband, or rather, he found us."
Dorothy wrote what May said and then looked over her notes. She shook her head.
"I know you didn't mean any harm, James. But mentioning these names, New York City, Scotland, the UK, Washington Bridge, I know Angel. She'll have you locked up until you tell her the definitions of them."
Clarkson looked alarmed by her statement. "But they're places, not weapons."
"You have to remember, Jeremy, this is a council you're talking to. They're going to interrupt you to ask questions. You must remember to finish what you're saying and address the next question. The best thing you can do is leave out the names of the places, with the exception of where you're from. I would just say United Kingdom and not the other regions. They're already on alert from these trials, so they're not going to be in the most understanding of moods. Keep things very general and bland. Nothing too detailed."
"So, what do we say?" asked Hammond.
"You were out and about, doing your jobs, in a place called the United Kingdom, when a horrible fog descended upon you. You kept driving and found yourself on a bridge, unsure of your current whereabouts. You kept driving, until you were able to pull over and try to figure out where you were. I would mention at this point that you all were nervous and trying to figure out how to go home before mentioning the MP. It will at least tell the council what kind of state of mind you were in, which would explain why you didn't follow Chief Dastun's orders to remain where you were, and you fled, fearing you were going to be killed because you saw the tanks."
"Oh boy. This is rather serious then."
"It is, Mr. Hammond. This basically determines if you continue staying with us or if you're going to stay at the Military Police prison."
"You can call me Rick, dear, and wow… can we not go to prison please? I don't see what we did justifies that."
"It's the reckless driving, Rick. No one got hurt, but someone could have."
"So, I have a question. What do we do if they say they want our cars?" asked Clarkson.
"Can you surrender them for any reason?" asked Dorothy.
"No, it's against our insurance policy. If we do surrender them to your government, and something happens to them under their care, they won't be covered. And we need them to get back."
Dorothy thought long and hard, tapping her blue fountain pen.
"It's a long shot, but we could say they're your private property, and since no one got hurt, there's no need to submit them for evidence, as the only crime committed was technically a nuisance crime. Just say you won't do it again and that you won't drive in our city, until it's time to go home."
Clarkson crossed his arms. "I guess we could do that."
"At least for the time being," Dorothy added, gently.
Clarkson sighed.
"So basically, we keep things general and vague. We don't add any unnecessary information?" asked May.
"That's the gist of this council meeting."
"I feel like we're trying to get our story straight before talking to a detective. Only there's a group of them?"
"Four to be precise as Roger, Dan, and myself will be sitting this one out."
"So, you can provide us help, you just can't vote?"
"Correct, James. You hired us to represent your sanctuary case and for that reason alone, the PEF cannot ask you to find alternate council, because you had no idea at the time who we were and what we do. You asked us to help you, and so, we did. Thankfully, you have majority rule voting and not unanimous."
"Oh c.. boy…" James corrected himself quickly, realizing the kids were present.
"Well, shall we give a few practice rounds and see how you guys fair under pressure?" asked Dorothy cheerfully.
The trio looked at each other and sighed.
"Let's get this over with," said Clarkson.
It was after lunch. The trio had faired well under Dorothy's extreme questioning, though some slip ups did occur. It was only before lunch that they were able to get their testimony down without a mistake. Dorothy was very happy with their progress and so were the trio. Norman had brought them finger sandwiches to munch on and was now collecting their plates.
"I hope they're not all like you, Dorothy dear. You're a force to be reckoned with," said Clarkson, with a small smile.
"I'm sorry, but, I want you guys to stay here. I feel it would be better overall for you, until we can find out what brought you here in the first place, and then from there, try to get you home," Dorothy said.
Norman walked over to where the twins and Robert were sleeping on cots. Norman had pulled them out from storage to put them down for their naps after lunch. After checking on them, both Dorothy and Norman's watch sounded off. Roger was calling them.
"Go ahead Roger," said Dorothy, speaking into her watch.
"Dorothy, get our guests ready and take them over to the SCA."
"What? Now? Why?"
"They're moving the council meeting up. Angel invoked the emergency clause."
"But why? They've done nothing wrong, and they've been here with me the whole time today."
"The trial for Dr. Woodward has been postponed until they have their meeting. From there, they'll resume it. I'm just thankful they didn't broadcast this one."
The trio looked worried as Dorothy raised an eyebrow.
"Roger, what's going on?"
"Dr. Woodward knows something about these three coming here. He might've got word to the outside how to do it, not sure yet. So, we can safely say the New World Order, or its remnants, are behind this. And that's not all. He knows about their technology. So, anything they have on them, make sure it gets locked up before you go. I don't need anyone breaking into the mansion to find their stuff. Be careful leaving. I don't know if the mansion is being watched, but the New World Order has done it before. Make sure you take the kids and Norman with you for protection and make sure you arm the mansion. I would also have Big O on standby. I know we've been keeping him at the mansion just in case we have any more surprises like we did during that one trial last year, but… I'm heading to the base now. And FYI, Batter and Angel are not in the best of moods."
"Oh great. I'll be there soon. Be careful. I love you."
"Love you too. Watch yourself."
Roger signed off, leaving Dorothy looking at the trio.
"Well, how do you guys feel?" she asked, uncertainly.
Hammond looked at his colleagues. "If, say, we don't get the vote, is there an option we can borrow a tank in a one-on-one battle for our freedom?"
"Unfortunately not."
"Oh cock," muttered May quietly.
"What does this New World Order want with us, Dorothy?" Clarkson asked, concerned.
Dorothy shook her head. "I don't know, Jeremy. I don't know. But it seems Roger and I have our work cut out for us. Rest assured though, we'll find a way home for all of you. Best get ready and dress in the clothes Norman gave you. After all, appearances are half the battle."
The trio shook their heads as they got up to change.
At the SCA headquarters, Dorothy was looking over the trio, fixing their clothes, while Roger briefed them on what happened.
"I have to ask, is there a famous Dr. Woodward from your world?"
The trio looked at each other, shrugging.
"If there is, we don't know about him or her," said May.
Roger sighed.
"Okay, a brief rundown of what happened at the trial. He started going on about how your world has some sort of firepower that could reset your world to a blank slate. Do you know anything about that?"
"The only thing we have close to his description is what we call nuclear weapons, but it doesn't reset the world. It's total destruction. In some cases, it can render an area uninhabitable for thousands of years. We're not exactly sure how long because well… we haven't had them for thousands of years," said Clarkson.
Roger massaged his brow, frustrated.
"Okay, one last question. Do you know if your government or any other government might be seeking us out to acquire the technology of the megadeuses?"
"Just what exactly happened at this trial?" asked Hammond, alarmed by the topics being questioned.
"It wasn't really a trial. More like a podium for the deranged ranting of a man, facing death row," Roger said, sighing.
Dorothy looked at Roger.
"Please tell me Angel didn't buy into this."
"Angel could barely keep a lid on everyone's reaction, Dorothy. Then he let it slip that he heard one of the guards talking about these three during the chase and that caused an immediate uproar. Dastun had kept it under wraps, but someone knew someone, and well, you know the rest. She didn't have a choice if she wanted to keep the peace," Roger said, now pacing. He turned to look at the trio.
"They're probably going to ask you more questions about your world now. And I don't like that we don't have any time to prepare you. But since the council thinks the PEF is under threat, there's not much I can do. The best thing I can recommend now is to answer honestly, keep it vague and short. Don't volunteer too much info. Also, no sarcasm or joking. One wrong word and I won't be able to stop Dastun from taking you into custody. I would also recommend appointing someone as your spokesperson. The other two only provide advice, but don't speak, unless you're spoken to."
Clarkson sighed. "All this over us and our cars. I'm not even sure if our world knows about yours."
A guard stepped out from the meeting room.
"Mr. Smith, the council are ready for you."
Roger sighed. "Well, if they don't know about us, Jeremy, I would suggest stressing that over and over. Dorothy and I will do our best to deflect unfair questions. Are you guys ready?"
The trio exchanged glances with one another.
"I think I rather be dangled from a helicopter again in my car," muttered Hammond.
Roger shook his head. "So, who's speaking?"
Hammond looked at May, then at Clarkson.
"Jezza, I think this best falls to you. May's too detailed and I crack under pressure."
Clarkson rolled his eyes. "Fine, but remember, they can signal any of you out over me. So, just keep it short and simple. We'll be fine."
Hammond gulped nervously, while May took a deep breath. And they all walked inside the meeting room.
It might as well have been a business meeting from their perception. All of them were sitting at a large round table. Roger and Dorothy were sitting on either side of the trio. The man that had given chase to them, Dastun, was sitting next to a female on her right, wearing a pink suit and skirt, her hair in a bun. This was Angel, who happened to be Dastun's wife as well. On her left was an older man in a navy-blue suit, with white hair and wearing thick black square fames. He was Vice President Batter. To their right, sat a man with a blonde pompadour, wearing a yellow suit. Next to him was a short woman, with blonde hair, wearing a black suit next to him. Beck and Yumi were also in attendance.
The questions had so far been civil, with Roger or Dorothy occasionally deflecting questions back to the council. Clarkson had answered the majority of the questions, with May occasionally answering some. Hammond had remained quiet the entire time. But now the council was asking to inspect their cars and Roger was in a heated argument with Dastun.
"I need evidence of a crime, Dastun. Did they hit something? No, otherwise you would've seen me by now to talk about it. Also, their cars have no signs of damage. At the most, you can get them for reckless speeding and that's a citation for a first-time offense!" Roger shot back.
"Oh, but you would know that, wouldn't you, Mr. Negotiator?"
Roger grumbled. "Having something different from our world doesn't automatically make it a weapon. It's a car. They were simply driving, and judging from what happened at today's trial, it's a good bet that my clients were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time when the New World Order decided to do their crazy experiment, which may I remind you, should take more precedent than determining the intensions of my clients."
Angel sighed and looked at Dastun, gently grabbing his hand.
"He has a point. Unless we have something else, issue the fine and be done with it, or let it go."
Dastun grumbled and sat down. Clarkson breathed a sigh of relief. Beck, however, was eyeing Hammond suspiciously.
"Hey, Shortie! I have a question for you."
Hammond looked at May and Clarkson nervously, but also somewhat agitated at this nickname Beck had called him.
"Beck, don't give them nicknames," Roger groaned, "Address them by their name."
Beck gave Roger a glare, then looked back at Hammond.
"You've been quiet this whole time, so I want to hear from you. Do you think your world knows about us?"
Hammond cleared his throat before speaking. "I think we're the only ones that know about your world, to be honest. It came as a shock to us, knowing that a place like this even existed."
"So, your world wouldn't be interested in the technology of the megadeuses?"
"Beck! Relevance!" Roger griped, "You're asking for an opinion, not the facts."
Beck and Roger turned to Angel for the final decision as Angel was leading the meeting. Angel sighed.
"I'm allowing this one, Roger."
"Angel… Excuse me… Madam President, you can't be serious. My client is just a normal citizen from his world. Not a government official. While we are treating them like foreign dignitaries, we must also keep in mind their status. Would you like a citizen of Paradigm to be questioned as a government official, even though they had no knowledge on the daily runnings of the government?" Roger asked, mildly annoyed.
Angel took a deep breath and exhaled. "I understand your point, but I also want to understand the mind of these gentlemen and I feel this is a fair question to gage where they stand."
May tapped his foot nervously. Don't crack, Hammond.
Roger conceded and leaned over to Hammond.
"I would answer this with finesse as if your world leader were asking the question to you," Roger said in a low voice.
"Right," said Hammond and he exhaled, trying to calm his nerves.
Hammond adjusted his tie and began speaking.
"Mr. Beck, I'm not sure if I would be the person to ask such a thing. Naturally, people in our world would gravitate to something as powerful as your giant robots, so it would be safe to say, that yes, they probably would be interested. But, as I stated before, our world doesn't know about you, except for us three. And, I think it's safe to say that we, and I do speak for all of us, will keep your world a secret. I can only imagine what our world is doing right now to find us, but unless if they had a way here, they have no idea where we are. Our families right now are probably worried sick, and so, it's for this reason alone we need to go home. But also, our world would think we would be barking mad and probably have us committed for our own mental health and safety if we were even to mention this. A world where mankind brought upon its own demise? We do live in the fear of that every day with different tools and weapons, but at the same time, it's also that fear that keeps others at bay. No one wants to be the first to press the button, but we don't want to be the last either."
"All we want right now, is just to go home. On behalf of my colleagues, we deeply apologize for the scare we caused yesterday. We can assure you, we mean no harm. We were scared and had no idea where we were. We're relieved that no one got physically hurt because of us, and rest assured, we'll use better judgement next time. All that we ask is that you don't approach us with tanks. It does feel rather imposing, and it really doesn't provide a good image of what your country, or territory, is trying to achieve with a post-war peace initiative."
Hammond exhaled shakily. Clarkson and May nodded at him. Angel stared at him, then looked at Dastun.
"I told you, dear," she muttered.
Dastun look flabbergasted, but said nothing, jamming his hands into his pockets. Yumi, Beck's wife, looked around.
"It's been recorded that Chief Dastun, and Team Omega, are sitting this vote out?" she asked.
Dastun said nothing once more while Roger and Dorothy nodded.
"Then I'm calling this to a vote. All in favor of detaining Misters Clarkson, May, and Hammond?"
Beck raised his hand. Roger raised his eyebrow.
"I'll bite, Beck. May I ask why you're the only one of detaining them?"
Beck scoffed at Roger. "I don't trust anyone until they prove themselves and you're expecting me to trust people from a different world? You're nuts, Crow Boy. Also, they talk funny."
"Hey!" Hammond interjected, but Roger put a firm hand on his shoulder, and shook his head. Hammond understood and took a breath.
"All those in favor of having the gentlemen remain in sanctuary custody of Team Omega?" Yumi asked.
Angel, Vice President Batter, and Yumi rose their hands. The trio breathed a sigh of relief.
Thank God, thought Clarkson.
"Then the matter is settled. Misters Clarkson, May, and Hammond will remain with Team Omega until they are able to find a way home. As a neutral party, the SCA is recommending that both the PEF and these gentlemen from their world remain friendly to one another and use this time to learn from one another as well. The PEF does request that our foreign dignitaries respect the laws and rules established in the PEF, and, keep our world a secret from theirs. Is that agreeable?"
Everyone at the table nodded.
"Well then, I guess the only matter that remains is what happened today. Misters Clarkson, May, and Hammond, until we're able to develop a stronger relationship with all of you, would you mind stepping outside and wait for Team Omega to escort you back to their home?"
The trio nodded and excused themselves, leaving the meeting room. The guard shut the door and May let out a sigh of relief.
"I don't want to do that again," said May, "No offense, mate, but I thought you were going to blow it. Are you alright, Hammond?"
"No… not really. Feel a bit queasy. I'm going to sit down and try to calm my nerves."
Hammond sat down as Clarkson approached the window, looking outside.
"What's on your mind, Jeremy?" asked May.
"Something tells me, this is only the beginning of our problems. Someone brought us here. I want to know why and for what purpose. But I don't think we're going to like the answers we find in the process."
"One thing at a time, Jezza!" groaned Hammond, "Can't we just take a moment…"
"Not really. If someone from this world brought us here, who's to say they won't try it again? We're on a limited time frame. If we are to keep this world a secret, we need to figure out a way home, and then make sure it can't be used again. And quickly."
Hammond shook his head and leaned back in the chair. May sat down deep in thought.
As much as I want to take a break, Jezza is right. Something tells me, we haven't seen the last of these New World Order people, and the sooner we go home, the better it will be for everyone.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone