Chapter 28

Edward and Witticker sat across from each other over a table in one of the many rooms in Edward’s apartment. A small candle sat in the middle of the table throwing enough light to illuminate a bottle of rum and a few tumblers carrying the remnants of ice cubes just nearly melted away. Sitting next to the tumblers laid the H-card and its corresponding journal from Witticker’s briefcase. The journal lay open, having been perused only moments before by Edward in search of any information as to Witticker’s identity. Edward now sat back in his chair; staring into the white box. Witticker had given him permission to scan the small device after the search of the journal proved fruitless. Edward moved his fingers quickly across the face of the box only hesitating when the box would beep in a harsher tone than usual.
“Nothing,” muttered Edward, “not a damn thing.”
Witticker yawned in the chair opposite to Edward, his head weaving and bobbing in the air. This had been, unbeknownst to Edward, Witticker’s first round of drinks ever and he was not entirely prepared for the effects the drinks were taking on him. The room refused to remain consistent, constantly shifting a half-an-inch in every direction. Witticker closed his eyes only to find that shifting continued in the darkness under his eyelids. He immediately opened his eyes again to see Edward eyeing him quizzically.
“You all right?”
“I’m…fine,” grumbled Witticker, furrowing his brow.
“Well,” shrugged Edward, “it seems that there is no record of you in this thing at all. Only some music and documents with nothing but poems and short stories inside. You might want to try sometime though. Some of these things only respond with voice recognition.”
Edward tossed the white box onto the table with a thud. The glasses shook and Witticker stirred from his swirling world.
“However, if I’m reading this right, and I like to think that I am, you may want to consider being Brisby Jacobs.”
Witticker cocked his head to the side and grunted an inquisitive ‘uh’. Edward reached for the H-card journal and flipped through the pages.
“This guy has a fairly impressive resume.’
Witticker chuckled.
“While there might not be any information on you here I bet I know where we can go to find out. I need to get out of this place anyway. Too nasty anymore and there is so much…”
Witticker lost track of Edward’s voice in the swirl of clouds forming in and around his mind. He slowly began to lean back, the sound of Edward’s voice fading in the distance. His leaning back had suddenly turned into a different sensation. The structure of the chair gradually disappeared until he felt as if he were flying. His body was free as his mind arched and sprung towards different ideas.
Situations.
Faces.
People.
Suddenly everything hit a wall. The room stopped shifting. Witticker smiled. Everything went black.
Black.