The Curious Case of the Two Dirk Gentlys

9: Rebuilding Blackwing

Procuring Icarus was virtually impossible, Ken had almost given up trying, but he still had his uses. There was no chance of him being like Bart. No way on this Earth or another would he walk through the door and straight into Blackwing's arms. All the same, having been in there twice he was sure to have his fair share of opinions . Enter the review process, the debriefing Riggens had promised and more. He would rebuild Blackwing with the help of the people who had betrayed it.

"Hi." Ken smiled as Farah opened the front door. The wall shook as she instantly slammed it shut again. Ken sighed. He should have known it wouldn't be so easy. He tried to be nice and this is how they treated him.

"Miss Black." He called through the thin door. He waited outside peacefully. A few seconds later the handle clicked and Farah reappeared, this time brandishing a baseball bat.

"Is...Dirk here?" Ken asked. He had really hoped he would be the one to open the door.

"No." Farah said bluntly.

"Oh. Is Mona here?" Sure, she was a bit of a rambler, a frankly dangerous one at that, but she would do.

"She's right here." She replied, gently tapping the baseball bat against her hand.

"Huh...well I'll just wait inside." Ken pushed past Farah and barged into the building. It wasn't exactly ideal, he wanted to be in and out as soon as possible, but he couldn't return to Priest empty handed. No way, no how. "Nice building you've got here."

"You never answered my question." Farah growled as Ken took a seat.

"What question?" Asked Ken.

"What are you doing here?" Farah snapped.

"Interviewing Dirk. Of course, I could save time and interview you. Sit down." Ken grinned. Farah grimaced. The only thing worse than a mad man walking straight into her home was said man bossing her around in a friendly manner. She obeyed nonetheless. "How are you holding up?"

"Better than you I suspect." Farah commented.

"That seems needlessly cruel." Ken muttered.

"I'm just being honest." Farah shrugged.

"Alright." Ken grumbled. He flipped through the paper on his clipboard and reached for the pencil in his pocket. The soon as this was over the better. "Question 1. How did you find Blackwing's handling of recent events?"

"Are you serious?" Asked Farah.

"These questions are really meant for Blackwing subjects." Ken explained.

"Again I ask are you serious?" She snapped.

"Just help me out here. Tell me how we handled that fantasy world situation." 'That fantasy world situation' was pretty much the name of the official file. They considered going for something a little more creative like the doorway incident or mirror world. However, neither really felt accurate to what really happened. Ken and Priest both felt that too much of Blackwing 1.0 had been wrapped up in metaphor and flowery language. From now on they needed to be far more direct. 'That fantasy world situation' would do.

"Wendimoor? Can it really still be considered a fantasy world if it came real?" Asked Farah.

"Actually we already have a word for fantasy worlds that come real. They're called New Zealand." Ken chuckled. Farah's poker face remained unchanged. His laughter trailed off. The silence hung heavy as the two sat together in a state of stalemate. "That was just a little joke there." Ken muttered.

"No I got it." Farah nodded.

"Just answer how you think Dirk would answer." Prompted Ken.

"Isn't 'that fantasy world situation' the one where you shot him in the leg?" Asked Farah.

"That was an outlier." Ken assured.

"And kidnapped him."

"Yeah-"

"And imprisoned him."

"Well-"

"Sent a madman after him and started a fire fight that killed the man in his care-"

"Miss Black." Ken snapped. "Understand that we was dealing with an extremely stressful situation. Dratistic measures needed to be taken."

"Sir, I don't know much about Blackwing but I know enough. From what I can gather Blackwing's existence is one long stressful situation. If you can't safely handle one simple parallel universe how can we ever trust you to rebuild the project without hurting anyone. Without hurting us?" Asked Farah.

"You have no intention of being helpful do you, Miss Black?" Sighed Ken as he placed his clipboard down on his lap.

"Not really." She admitted.

"Alright." He huffed. "Is Dirk going to be long?"

"He might be a week or two." Said Farah.

"A week or two? Where is he?" Asked Ken.

"Some Premier Inn in London." She informed him.

"Why is he-? Look nevermind. Mona is right there. Could I just-" he reached out for the baseball bat that sat next to Farah. In the blink of an eye the bat disappeared and replaced itself with a heavy black handgun.

"I don't think she wants to talk to you." Farah scowled.

"It would really help-" the gun cocked itself before Ken could finish his sentence. He began to get up, grabbing his clipboard in the process.

"This is really unnecessary." Ken insisted. Whether it was or not didn't matter one bit to Farah and Mona. The gun fired. The bullet hit the wall and chipped the plaster, driving the supervisor from their home.

"Okay, okay I'm going." Ken backed out of the room as fast as he could, virtually fleeing from the building. The gun fired twice more just to make sure he got the message: no element of Blackwing was welcome on their property. The door slammed shut once more. This time Farah made a point of locking it behind her. "I just want to talk." He shouted. It was far too late. Farah had no intention of coming back.