"You blithering idiot!"
Jeremy Clarkson yelled over the radio, forcing Richard Hammond and James May to move their radios away rather quickly from their ears. The trio found themselves filming a special in Scotland once again, but the weather was not cooperating.
"I'm cold, wet, miserable, and you keep going on and on about how your Dodge Hellcat can't handle the stupid track!"
"It's not my bloody fault!" Hammond yelled back into radio, "I just want to get to the racetrack and get this over with! I'm just as miserable as you are!"
May shook his head before bringing the radio to his mouth. "Will you two muppets quit arguing? We got a heavy fog coming in. And you nearly ran into me, Jezza! Your brakes are still not working properly."
Clarkson's car, an Alfa Romeo GTV6, had been giving him some brake issues since the beginning of filming. There was a leak in the line somewhere, but Clarkson and the crew had been unable to pinpoint it. Thus, the only solution had been to keep a steady supply of brake fluid in the car with Clarkson, and every time they stopped, check the fluid reserve. Clarkson was already starting to get annoyed by the constant checks, now having to complete them in the rain.
Clarkson rolled his eyes. "Remind me… why are we filming in Scotland again?" he asked into his radio.
Hammond brought his radio to his mouth to respond. "Because you had to go on and on about my glorious penis route when we still had the tent! Apparently, it got the most views on Amazon, and so they wanted us to do a follow up camping special in cars we had purchased from our specials from the show. In other words, if you had kept your mouth shut, you would be warm and dry in your house on your farm."
Hammond set the radio down and massaged his brow while Clarkson replied, "At least I would've had my tractor so I could dump a few hay bales on that stupid purple car of yours. It's an embarrassment of a color for that caliber of car!"
Hammond snatched the radio back into his hand, now feeling his frustration boiling. "IT'S NOT PURPLE!"
May sighed before bringing the radio back to his mouth. "Mate, out of all of us, I am the most well versed in the arts. And I can say, with 100% certainty, that your car, while not purple, does fall within the realm of that color scheme. It is lilac."
"Oh, bugger off, James! It's periwinkle," groaned Hammond as Clarkson and May began laughing.
"But seriously, lads, we got some heavy fog. We should slow down and try to find the film crews at least. It seems we lost the front and rear cars," said May, still looking for them.
May's car, a Ferrari 458, was cruising along rather well. While not as fast as Hammond's, it didn't have to stop for fuel every five minutes as May stated once to Hammond. But as May was in the rear, he lost sight of the Landrover Discovery that was supposed to be filming him. Hammond was making up the front with Clarkson in the middle. May brought his radio to his mouth again.
"Hammond, can you see the Landrover?"
Hammond took looked ahead. "No. This fog… it's horrible. I mean, I know we're in Scotland, but I don't think this is normal."
Clarkson was about to reply that nothing seemed normal to Hammond because he wasn't normal height when something caught his eye.
"What the…"
The fog began to clear and now Clarkson could make out clearly what he had seen. Support beams for a bridge, but not just any bridge.
"Chaps, which one of you spiked my coffee this morning?"
May and Hammond raised their eyebrows, puzzled by their colleague's question.
"What are you talking about?" May replied back.
"Take a look above you. Unless I'm mistaken, we're on the Washington Bridge, which is only in New York City."
"I didn't spike your coffee, and yeah, I can confirm what you're seeing. That does look awfully like…" May began to say, but stopped talking into his radio once the view cleared.
The fog finally cleared, and the trio found themselves driving on a bridge that resembled the one they knew from New York City.
"Hammond, did you spike the coffee?" May asked into radio, now starting to get concerned.
"If I spiked the coffee, then why would I be seeing what you two are seeing? We're not in bloody Scotland! How the hell did we end up in New York?!"
No one had an answer. It seemed to be mid-morning as traffic was flowing well on the bridge.
"Chaps, let's stick together and find a place to stop as soon as possible, so we can figure out what's going on and contact the crew," said Clarkson, grimacing, putting his radio down.
"Yeah, about that, I got no signal, Jeremy," said Hammond into radio, checking his phone, "I was about to call them and ask where they were."
May and Clarkson checked their phones as well. No bars or 5G. They were completely on their own.
"Bollocks!" barked May, now starting to get frustrated and worried.
The trio followed each other closely, so as not to get split up by traffic. But as they drove off the bridge and into the city, Hammond grabbed the radio, shocked by what he was seeing.
"Is that a dome? In New York City? It's on your left!"
May and Clarkson saw what he was referring to, shaking their heads in disbelief at the sight. The dome was very large and took up most of the view in the background.
"This is absurd! We're not in Scotland anymore and we sure are not in New York City! Where the hell are we?!" cried Hammond.
"When in Rome, do as the Romans do, Hammond," said May, "It's 'We're not in Kansas anymore, aren't we, Hammond?'"
Before Hammond could shoot a retort back, Clarkson saw a gas station to his right. "Chaps, head for that petrol station on the right and let's pull over. We need to figure out what is going on."
The trio pulled off the road and turned into the gas station away from the pumps. They all stepped out, worried looks etched on their faces as they looked around them.
"Probably a waste to ask this, but does anyone have any American money on hand?" asked Clarkson.
Hammond and May shook their heads.
"So, we can't get a map or petrol either. Our phones don't work, and we've lost sight of the crew. Bloody hell…" Clarkson shook his head, staring at the ground, thinking.
Hammond rummaged around the trunk of his car, seeing if he had anything else he could contact crew with or perhaps a few dollars stashed away in a random bag. But he found nothing and slammed the cover of his boot shut, frustration starting to seep out from him. He leaned back on it, crossing his arms, thinking.
May was also rummaging around his trunk, but he too had no cash stashed away. He began organizing everything in his boot when May got the feeling they were being watched. May then looked around him, realizing that some people were staring at them, with a look of fear on their face.
"Jeremy, is it me or is everyone that's staring at us wearing clothing from the 1940s and 1950s?" May asked quietly.
Clarkson, who had been thinking about their next move, looked up and saw what May had observed. Indeed, Hammond in his leather jacket, t-shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots, May his suit jacket, colorful printed shirt, trousers, and his neon Adidas shoes, and Clarkson wearing his suit jacket, solid shirt, Levi jeans, and with his tennis shoes looked very out of place compared to what the other people were wearing.
"I feel like everyone found Waldo, and we're Waldo," said Hammond, starting to feel the hairs stand on the back of his neck. "Jezza, what do we do? We can't stay here for much longer."
Clarkson was at a loss to do. "I have a friend in New York, but without our phones. I'm not sure if he's even in town…"
A loud police siren drowned out his sentence. As they turned in the direction from where it was coming from, they saw a grizzled man with pointed sideburns, wearing a green overcoat with a shield on the left side of his chest, with a megaphone in his hand, yelling into it.
"YOU THREE RIGHT THERE! STOP WHERE YOU ARE!"
"CRIKEY! IT'S THE BLOODY ROZZERS!" May yelled as he dived into his Ferrari.
Clarkson and Hammond scrambled back to their cars. The man was coming with a group of tanks.
"If that's the law, I hate to see the judge!" Clarkson yelled as he started his car.
"What? You're not going to use your passport excuse this time?" Hammond yelled back at him as he started his car.
"Not this time! Head for the south part of the city! FOLLOW ME!" Clarkson bellowed and pulled out of the gas station. The other two followed before the tanks could cut them off and they began racing through the city.
"Christ on a bike and it's not even the third day of filming!" Hammond groaned, weaving in and out of traffic as he kept on Clarkson's tail end. Clarkson noticed Hammond was following too close, but he didn't care. The sight of the tanks following them was more distracting and more ominous.
"GO FASTER!" yelled May into his radio.
"I can't!" Clarkson yelled into his, "There's too much traffic as it is."
"Just don't stop or I'm dead!"
They kept weaving in and out of traffic, nearly getting hit twice at a few intersections. However, the buildings slowly gave way to warehouses and they knew they were getting out of the city.
"PUNCH IT JEREMY!" yelled Hammond into his radio.
"I'm giving the Alfa all I can! I also have poor brakes you moron!" he yelled back into his.
"Then let me around you… AHHHH!"
They had made their way deep into the warehouses now, but felt a terrible rumbling. All three slammed brakes as they saw an explosion from the ground and debris falling in front of them, a tall shadow looming ahead.
"Oh God," whispered Clarkson.
Clarkson stepped out of the car. They were surrounded by warehouses on either side of them, and they could hear the sirens behind them. As the debris cloud settled, he saw a giant, black humanoid figure staring at them with glowing eyes. Clarkson was rooted to the ground by the terrifying site.
Hammond and May ran up to him.
"What the hell are you…. CHRIST! WHAT IS THAT THING!" Hammond yelled.
"This day just went from bad, to worse, to we are going to die," said May, quietly as he was in shock from the sight.
The trio began to move backward as the figure took a thunderous step towards them.
"Chaps, it's been nice knowing you, but I think I rather take the tanks!" said Clarkson, and he finally got the feeling back in his legs and made to get back into the car.
"HOLD ON! WAIT A SEC!"
The trio stopped and looked at each other and looked back at the humanoid figure, all thinking the same exact thought.
Did it just talk to us?
The orange glass beneath the head opened up, and out came a man, sharply dressed in black in a business suit, riding his grappling hook to where they were standing. The grappling hook retracted back into his watch, and he slowly walked toward them, with his hands up.
"Is this what Dastun's making a fuss about?" he said, shaking his head.
The trio exchanged glances with one another before looking back at the strange man.
"I'm sorry," said Hammond, feeling braver speaking than he felt, "But what's a Dastun?"
The man looked perplexed. "You have the same accent as my butler. No, you can't be terrorists…"
"Terrorists?!"
"Easy, sir, easy. I overheard what he said on the radio, and speaking of the devil, there he is. We don't have much time. I know you guys are overwhelmed, but I'm here to help. Can you drive your cars into Big O's feet over there? We'll ride the elevator up and I'll have my wife file sanctuary paperwork on your behalf so he can't arrest you…"
The trio were definitely overwhelmed by all of the technical jargon the man spoke of. However, they saw the tanks coming into view. They all glanced at each other.
"Do we even have a choice?" asked May, shaking his head and he got back in his Ferrari.
Clarkson and Hammond got back in their cars and they all followed the man who pressed something on his watch. As they got closer into view of the humanoid figure, they saw the front of the feet open downward. Clarkson and Hammond drove in the right, while May drove into the left. May scampered out quickly and went to join the others before the doors closed.
"I'm really sorry about this," said the man as they all walked to the elevator, "Normally, he's not like this, but he's been pretty stressed out lately. I'm sure once he gets to know you, you'll be alright in his book."
"Never mind that now. We appreciate your help, but where are you taking us?" said Clarkson.
"Well, we're going into the cockpit of Big O, then we're going home. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and so do I. But first, let's get out of here."
They all stepped inside into the elevator and rode it up to the top.
"I hate heights," muttered May.
The man gave a small smile. "Sorry about that. I'll have my butler fix you up a drink when we get home to settle the nerves."
The lift came to a stop, and they all stepped off and climbed up through a hatch. The man went first, followed by the trio. As they all came into view, the trio were greeted by a low humming of machinery bathed in a red-orange glow of the glass window. The man climbed into the cockpit and the cockpit sealed itself shut in a dome of glass. Hammond looked at Clarkson and May.
"Should we…"
Clarkson shook his head. Now was not the time to ask any questions, not until they got to safety and could at least confirm this man's intensions were indeed set on helping them.
"Dorothy, come in. Dorothy…" said the man.
A woman with a pageboy hairstyle appeared to his right on the screen.
"You're alright! Roger… what happened? What's going on?"
"These guys are not terrorists. Get some sanctuary forms from the PEF ready to go. I'll need three."
"Roger, are you… are they with you?"
"It's alright, Dorothy. Trust me."
"But Roger, you're status as a pilot…"
"Dorothy, it's okay."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive, Dorothy. They're not giving me any bad vibes. They also have the same accent as Norman, and they're scared. Trust me. Have I ever been wrong when it comes to people?"
"No, but… oh, alright. I'll need their names."
Roger turned to face them.
"Gentlemen, if you would be so kind, we need your names. Full names."
The trio exchanged glances with one another, unsure. Without contact from their film crews or from their producer, Mr. Wilman, they had no allies. And from the way things had looked earlier, there was a very slim chance they could get ahold of the UK embassy. Clarkson gulped nervously and spoke first.
"I'm Jeremy Charles Robert Clarkson," he said, sighing.
Hammond shook his head, realizing it was best to play along for now.
"I'm Richard Mark Hammond," he said.
"And I'm James Daniel May," said May, looking at the other two with a worried look.
Roger nodded. "Thanks. We need it just for the form. Forgive my manners, but my name is Roger Smith. Welcome to Paradigm City."
"Well, I guess we're not in Kansas anymore, are we James?" said Hammond sarcastically to May, who rolled his eyes.
"Enough," said Clarkson, massaging his temple.
Roger raised an eyebrow and shrugged, turning to Dorothy.
"Did you get the names, Dorothy?"
"I did. Be careful coming home. Dastun might be here by the time you get back."
"I know. Could you have Norman…"
"I'm already on it."
And the video screen went to black. Roger turned back to the trio.
"I suggest holding onto something. We're gonna drop here in a bit."
The trio exchanged worried glances as Roger moved one of the foot pedals downward, getting Big O to raise his foot so they could descend into the underground where the Prairie Dog waited for them below. The foot came crashing down and then there was a sudden sensation of falling. Clarkson, Hammond, and May held on for dear life until there was a giant thud. The trio breathed a sigh of relief.
"Let's not try to do that again, mate," said May, feeling a bit queasy.
"We're not far from home. Again, I apologize, but I can assure you, you'll have drinks waiting for you when we return," said Roger.
"ROGER! YOU BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU INTERFERE IN MP BUSINESS!"
"CHIEF, YOU WILL LOWER YOUR VOICE IN MY HOUSEHOLD!"
Everyone had arrived back at the mansion, though Hammond needed some help climbing out of Big O. While the trio were worried about their cars, a locking system in Big O's feet had held them in place through transport, so they remained safe. However, no sooner had the trio parked their cars in the hanger, they heard a low rumble approaching the building. Roger had told Clarkson, Hammond, and May to take the lift up to the top floor and remain out of sight. And so, the trio waited in the living room, hearing the argument from the guest dining hall below. Hammond had crept closer to the stairs, listening quietly.
"This is MP business! They are terrorists! Look at what they were driving!" roared Dastun.
"Dastun, I know you've been stressed to the max with these damn trials from the New World Order, but since when does having a weirdly shaped car make you a terrorist?" Roger argued back.
"When I get 20+ phone calls about it!"
"The public has been scared lately since you decided to broadcast that last trial on the radio and that guy made a threat. Of course people are on edge! You shoulda decided against it!"
"It wasn't my call!"
"GENTLEMEN!"
Hammond heard a familiar female voice. It was Dorothy speaking.
"Dan, you will call those tanks off the mansion. My children have just seen them on the security feed and they're terrified! I will not hesitate to call Angel and pull rank over you!"
Hammond heard Dastun struggling for words, then a sigh.
"I apologize, Dorothy. I didn't mean to scare the twins or Robert. Give me a moment." There was a pause and crackle of a radio.
"Webster, call off your unit. We're not taking them back…"
"But Chief Dastun…"
"I'll deal with the bosses. Go back to HQ for now."
"Yes sir!"
The radio died and Hammond crept back to where Clarkson and May were sitting.
"Well, it seems like we're staying here for the time being," Hammond whispered.
Clarkson and May breathed a sigh of relief.
"Finally, something goes right. But what's our next move?" asked May.
"I would've said we go to the British Embassy, but considering the name Mr. Smith spoke of…" Clarkson trailed off.
"What is it, Jeremy?"
"I got the feeling we're not in our world anymore."
"Oh, don't say that," groaned Hammond, "We have to be in our world. We have to at least try going to the embassy. Otherwise… if we're not… would that make us mad?"
"You're as sane as I am, Hammond. Let's just wait until Mr. Smith comes back and talks to us. We already owe him a debt for keeping us out of prison," said Clarkson.
"I just feel bad," said May, "I had no idea he had kids, and it's because of us, they're scared right now."
"Well, we'll make it up to them, somehow."
Clarkson leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. It was early afternoon, but he was tired. However, because of the time difference, he had been forcing himself to stay awake, just in case if they needed to run again. But the thought trailed out of his mind when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. The trio sat up as Roger and Dorothy came up the stairs and walked over to them.
"Gentlemen, I do apologize once again for the lack of pleasantries. If I may introduce formally, I am Roger Smith. This is my wife, Dorothy Smith. We run a negotiating firm here in the Paradigm Electric Federation."
He saw their perplexed and alarmed looks. He sighed and pressed a button on the unicorn buzzer on the table.
"Norman, could you please bring the kids and break out…" Roger paused for a moment, covering the speaker, "It seems like we all need a drink. What can I get you?"
Clarkson looked at his colleagues. "Gin?"
"Your strongest at that," said May, with Hammond nodding.
Roger nodded, removing his hand from the speaker. "Break out the Gin, Norman. Gin and Tonics for everyone. Whatever the strongest proof we have in stock."
"Except me, Roger. I'll take some tea," said Dorothy.
Roger nodded. "And some orange spice tea for Dorothy."
"Very well, sir. I'm on my way."
The buzzer clicked off. Clarkson looked confused.
"We have a lot of questions right now, but your butler, he sounded a lot like us."
Roger shrugged. "He always talks that way and I assume that was normal for him. But you sound very similar, so I am going to say it's an accent from a particular region you're from. Did you come The Wilds or The Wastes?"
May shook his head. "No idea what you're talking about, mate. We come from the UK."
"What's the UK?"
"United Kingdom."
Roger raised an eyebrow. "United Kingdom? Where's that?"
"It's across the pond… oh! Across the Atlantic ocean," said Hammond, noting their confusion.
Roger and Dorothy looked at each other. "Gentlemen, I do apologize, but there's not a land with that name here, at all, that we know of at least," said Dorothy, gently.
Clarkson sighed. "So, then there's no UK embassy?"
"I'm afraid not. But what's an embassy?"
Clarkson put a hand to his forehead.
"Forgive me, Mr. Smith, I am very tired, and it seems we keep answering your questions with our questions. Perhaps it would be best if one side would explain what's going on and then the other side explain?"
Roger gave a small smile. "I apologize, Mr. Clarkson. And, you can call me, Roger, considering the meeting I just had with Dastun. Would you like to go first?"
"I can go, Jezza, and James, you can back me up if I forget anything," said Hammond, noting his colleague's demeanor. Clarkson and May nodded.
"Well, to start, the three of us from a land call the United Kingdom, which the term the Americans have coined for us, we're neighbors across the pond. The three of us host a very popular tv show about cars and we were in the middle of filming a special for our show in Scotland, which is a region in the UK… And we got terribly lost in this fog on our way to a racetrack. Somehow, we ended up in… well… I know you probably call it by something else, but we ended up on the Washington Bridge. We thought we were in New York City. We just kept driving along until we were able to stop. We realized our cell phones didn't work, we had no idea where we were, and were unable to contact anyone we know. Normally, we would've gone to our embassy which is basically a little part of our country in your country that regulates the business of its people visiting said country it's located in. We were going to head there at some point once we got our bearings, but it was at that point your Dastun fellow gave chase to us and then we ran into you."
"You also forgot the fact we lost our crew that was with us. When we film a show, we have a few cars in the front and back, but we have no idea where they are," said May.
Roger and Dorothy glanced at each other once more.
"May I ask, what is the date from your location?" asked Roger slowly.
"It's September 22nd, 2022," said Hammond, looking confused, "Why?"
Norman arrived with the drinks on a cart and wearing a baby carrier, while two toddlers, a boy and girl held on to his pant legs.
"Master Roger, the drinks as promised," he said as he gave the baby to Dorothy. The toddlers climbed in between their parents.
"Okay, Rose, Tim. You have to be quiet now. Dad has company," said Roger smiling as he kissed each of their heads, trying to comfort them from the events from earlier.
Clarkson took his hand off head when he heard Norman arrive. Norman served them their drinks, each nodding their heads in thanks. Norman excused himself to go prepare dinner.
"I'm sorry about us scaring your children. We had no idea…" Clarkson began, but Roger held up his hand.
"You had no idea and you're not at fault. Dastun is. Trust me, I have a megadeus at my disposal if the MP decided to harm my family and they would be no match, not that I would ever do that, unless they went rogue."
"A mega-what?" Clarkson asked, raising his eyebrow, looking at Hammond and May, who were equally confused.
Roger gave a small chuckle and noticed Norman had left the bottle of gin on the cart.
"Something tells me we're going to need that," he said as he got up and brought the bottle back to the table, "It seems like we got some time. And there some parts of it where I even question my sanity, so… don't feel like you're going crazy, because you're not."
Two hours passed as Roger and Dorothy explained to trio about Paradigm City. They told them the story about the world before Paradigm, or at least the parts they knew about from Big Ear to them. The trio sat in silence, trying to digest the information. The city had lost its memory over 40 years ago in a great cataclysm that nearly brought the end of the world, but a being called a megadeus, specifically called Big Venus, put the world on the stage to save it from itself. Roger and Dorothy then went into detail how they found out it was the New World Order who had caused the stage resets in Paradigm, trying to reset their world in their perfect image using Big Venus and a woman called Angel, her pilot, and how they tried to stop them.
The trio found out how this organization resurrected another megadeus, called Big Gamma, by using a power that had fallen to Earth prior to the cataclysm. How they tried to summon it, but powers that be kept delaying its return. How Dorothy, who at the time was an android, was changed to be a human to not be used as a power regulatory circuit for this Big Gamma. They also found out how Roger and Dorothy fought against Big Gamma, barely winning the fight, only to have Angel take the power to Big Venus' realm and make it disappear, thus taking Paradigm off the stage, and make it real living world once more.
"This gin tastes funny," said Hammond, still in shock from what he was hearing.
"It probably does. It might be synthetic. Real gin goes for thousands of dollars at auction when the memory archives put up a lot to bid on."
Hammond shook his head. "So, this world, doesn't even have real alcohol?"
"Not unless if you have the money."
"Bloody hell…"
Hammond leaned back on the sofa, taking another drink, making a face at the taste.
"So, Roger… let me see if I'm processing the information correctly. There was a giant cataclysm that caused the end of the world around 2004, 2005, 2006?" asked May.
"Correct."
"All because of some power that came to Earth?"
"Yes."
"And it literally caused an arms race or a race to build these megadeoos things?"
"Also correct."
"And because of that, the head of the megadoos things decided to save humanity from itself by putting the world on a stage with the help of its pilot and erase the memories of mankind?"
Roger nodded.
"And through various resets, you discovered that Big Venus was being influenced by its counterpart, Big Gamma, who was trying to use it and absorb its power so it could reset the world in its own image. And because you stood up to this power and the organization supporting it, you sent it back to where it came from, which caused Big Venus to… I guess, lift the curse that had been placed on Paradigm City and the world, and remove it from the stage it had been set on?"
Roger nodded once more.
"And, after it was all said and done, two territories to become one, essentially a new country called the Paradigm Electric Federation. And this world, which used to lack sunshine, plants, animals, food, and apparently alcohol, is now coming back to life and these things are being rediscovered or discovered?"
"That's about right," said Roger with a sheepish grin.
May shook his head. "Yup, we're sane, Hammond. I'm just surprised our world managed to get past 2006 without any issues."
Hammond rolled his eyes. "Speak for yourself mate, my world nearly ended in 2006."
"Right, sorry. Between today and everything that's happened…"
"Forget it, just forget it."
"So, I guess the moral of the story is, don't mess with Dark Matter and send the bloody thing back to outer space if it decides to land in our time, so we don't have this mess to worry about with robots running amuck, and tanks trying to kill us, no offense," said Clarkson.
"None taken," said Roger, topping off Clarkson's drink.
"So, I guess the bigger question is, how did the three of us, end up in your world? And, how do we get back?"
Roger sighed. "You're not the only one wondering that. I've seen some strange things in this world. But you guys, coming from a different time with a different set of memories, different time, technology, and culture… you guys topped the list today, no offense."
"None taken," said May as Roger topped of his glass.
The twins at this point were sleeping on Roger while Dorothy had been holding Robert in her arms. Hammond smiled.
"How old are they?" he asked, pointing at the children.
Dorothy returned his smile. "The twins are three and Robert is two…"
"Sounds like fun, dear."
"Well, if a certain someone here hadn't been a louse," and Dorothy gave a coy grin in Roger's direction. Roger shook his head, coughing slightly.
"Right, well, at least Tim and Rose are sleeping now. How's Robert, Dorothy?"
"He's barely staying awake at this point, but it's midafternoon…"
Roger smiled and turned to face the trio. "Do you mind if I put these guys down in their beds for their naps?"
Clarkson shook his head as Roger and Dorothy got up to put the twins and Robert to bed. Hammond smiled.
"Well, despite everything that happened, at least some good came out of it."
"The fact the world didn't implode on itself?" asked Clarkson.
Hammond reached for the gin bottle to top off his glass. "That, and the fact everything is trying to return to normal. Well, something we would consider normal."
"But the fact that our country may not even exist…"
"Correction, you mean not rediscovered. They don't have the means yet to fly or sail across the Atlantic to know that, Jeremy. I mean, in their date, it's only After Event 46, and they're still making new advancements," said May.
Clarkson shrugged as Roger and Dorothy returned and sat back down.
"So, I guess now that we have all that explained, I need to explain the good news and bad news of your situation, if you decide to hire me to represent you," said Roger.
Clarkson looked at his colleagues. "You need to represent us? But what did we do? Do we need lawyers?"
"No… thankfully no. But, well… it's kind've difficult. You see, the sanctuary forms that Dorothy filled out give you clemency for the time being until a hearing is held to determine your intent and purpose toward the Federation."
"Of which, we have none," said May, "We just want to go home."
"And I told Dastun that. For the time being, you'll have to stay here with me, and can't really be seen in public, at least, not with those outfits on anyway. You'll have to blend in. But until this hearing is held, well, you're kinda under house arrest."
"Oh cock," muttered May.
"Dastun wanted to take you with him and house you in the Military Police prison, to which I said no. Aside from reckless driving, no one seriously got hurt, so at the most, a strong citation applied to your record if you had one. However, my wife had the foresight to call the Madam President, who also happens to be her best friend. It's the same lady I spoke of who piloted Big Venus. Because we have never had this particular type of situation happen before, and considering that it does affect the territory as a whole, the Survey Core Alliance will be getting involved, which comprises of a council consisting of me, my wife, and a few others. Because of Dastun's error of judgement by calling you terrorists, not only will you not get a fair trial by the justice bureau in the PEF, Dastun, who also sits on our council, will have to sit this out. The hearing will be transferred to the SCA, and basically, you'll just need to tell everyone that you were scared and fled, like any other reasonable human being would when being pursued by tanks," said Roger.
"But, Roger and I will also have to sit this one out as well when it comes to a vote. Seeing as we are letting you stay in the mansion, bias can be cited against us," said Dorothy, "So, we'll help you prepare arguments and counter arguments until the hearing. Though, we do have the trials from the New World Order this week, dear, so I'm not sure how we'll be able to squeeze everything in."
"We'll manage, Dorothy. If needed, only one of us can go to the trials while one stays here and preps them, that is, if you accept us as your mediators."
Clarkson looked at Hammond and May.
"Well?"
Hammond down a good portion of his drink.
"I don't see any problems. James?"
James shook his head. "Honestly, I feel like we owe them enough already, but I rather not go to prison."
Clarkson offered his hand and Roger took it.
"We accept. We can't thank you enough for saving us today, and well, from that crazy Dastun of yours."
Roger laughed. "Trust me, his bark is worse than his bite. Once he gets to know you, he's a good man through and through."
"I'll take your word for it then."
The buzzer sounded on the table. "Master Roger?"
"Yes Norman?"
"Dinner is nearly ready, sir."
"Excellent. Norman, it seems our guests will be staying with us for a while. Could you see to it that they have everything they need to make their stay comfortable?"
"Certainly, sir. I shall see to it after dinner."
The buzzer sounded off as they got up from the sofas.
"Really, you don't have to go through the trouble…" Clarkson began, but Dorothy smiled.
"Nonsense, Mr. Clarkson, you guys have been through enough for today. Besides, and I think I also speak for Roger, we consider it an honor to have foreign dignitaries staying with us in our household. I think we'll learn a lot from each other."
Clarkson smiled. "It's Jeremy, dear. And I hope that will be the case."
Dinner was going rather well. It was Roger's turn to feed the baby, while Dorothy had the twins. Norman assisted Dorothy from time to time, while topping off drinks. May made a face at his gin and tonic as he took a sip.
"I can't get over this taste. It has such a weird finish," said May, looking at it.
"It would be because it's synthetic, sir," said Norman, topping off Roger's wine glass.
"I don't wish to be rude, but I have a question for you, Mr. Burg," said Clarkson, putting his utensils down.
Norman nodded his acknowledgment. "Please, by all means, feel free to ask."
"How is it you speak like us, but have no idea of the UK?"
"I apologize, sir. I've been speaking this way as long as I can remember. I haven't heard anyone else in Paradigm City speak like me specifically, and I always thought perhaps it was a speech impediment."
"Oh, Norman, that's nonsense. It's just an accent," said Dorothy defensively.
"I know Mistress Dorothy, I know…"
"But you're literally one of us, mate. You don't have anything to remind you of Britain?" asked Hammond.
Norman shook his head.
"England?" asked May.
Norman shook his head again.
"How about Britannia?" asked Clarkson.
Norman shook his head once more.
"I'm afraid I have no knowledge of the names you speak of. Perhaps, maybe we can put a request to the memory archives to see if there's any knowledge on the names you mentioned?" Norman asked, turning his head to Roger and Dorothy.
"I doubt it will get approved in time, if at all," said Roger, "It's one thing to grant a PEF's citizen request, but foreign dignitaries of which we have no prior knowledge of? Angel and Batter will turn that down flat."
"Maybe I can talk to Angel and John about that," said Dorothy, finishing up feeding the twins. She began collecting plates. "I have a better relationship with them after all."
"Well, you are foreign correspondence negotiator of the firm, so, I would bet money you would," said Roger, smiling.
Dorothy leaned over and kissed Roger on the cheek, collecting his plate. Norman took the plates from Dorothy and went to the kitchenette.