I have spent a week studying the subject now and am convinced he is, as he claims, an alien and not a Europan agent. However Political Officer Jan Lo Bak continues to maintain the subject is merely a "mutant" who talks a great deal of nonsense. I agree that the subject is full of nonsense--he says he is 239 years old, that his people regenerate their appearances when they become old or infirm, that his civilization was millions of years old and one of the most advanced in existence, and that his wooden box contains a black hole and travels through time and space--but his physiology is too radical to be a simple mutant. Despite his other wild claims I believe his being an alien to be true.
After the 3rd Session we suffered a set-back. Officer Jan Lo felt we were unnecessarily catering to the subject's wishes and ordered the Europan woman and children in the next cell to be sent to the work camps. As a result, the subject--despite increasingly imaginative and painful interrogation techniques--refused to speak. This changed, unexpectedly, in our eighth session.
Session 8
Upon entering his cell I found the prisoner smiling to himself.
I: You seem pleased.
S: I am. I am about to leave this place.
I: I assure you, no one has ever escaped from the House of Answers.
S: Who said anything about escape? I plan on being rescued.
I: Oh? By whom?
S: You don't honestly think I came here alone, do you? I am traveling with a companion. She was badly injured when we crossed from my dimension to yours, but she is almost fully healed.
I: I see. And you just expect her to walk in here and save you?
S: Nods.
I: Now Mr. Draegonne, I have been instructed to ask you again about your box.
S: Still can't get in there, can you? Grins.
I: No, and my superiors are growing impatient. My instructions are to make you tell us how to enter it.
S: How nice for you.
I: If you continue to refuse, I will be forced to take even more extreme measures.
S: Laughs. The only thing you can do "more extreme" is kill me. Nothing else you have tried has worked very well, has it. And there is nothing you can do short of killing me that awhile in the Zero Room will not heal.
I: The "Zero Room?"
S: Yes, the Zero Room. And I think you won't kill me so long as you can't get into the box. Leans forward now, pleased with himself. It bothers you, doesn't it? That box. You know it is alien, that none of your weapons can scratch it. You can feel it vibrating, hear it humming at night. And yet when you look at it, every fiber of your being screams out "It's just a normal box. Look away. Forget about it." Must drive you insane.
I: What is inside the box?
S: Laughs. Six console rooms, the Infinity Room, the Cloisters, bedrooms, a ballroom, swimming pool, two libraries...
I: I am serious, Mr. Draegonne. I am tired of playing games with you. I want to know who you are, where you came from, and what is inside that box of yours.
S: Is that all? Fine. In order; I am Daemiiandraegohneandroluvanmohgaryahmi, a Time Lord, a Gallifreyan, and an Arcalian. I am from a parallel universe. Inside my box is a transdimensional time and space machine. Well, not a machine really, not as you lot understand the concept. The Fallen Hour is alive and dreaming, and we are now imprinted upon one another. She will open only for me. We share a bond you cannot conceive of. There now. Are we finished?
I: I can see you need more persuasion. We will try again tomorrow.
Post Script
The subject is gone.
How much of it was true? I cannot be certain, and doubt I ever will be. According to reports, that box of his came alive in the dead of night, flashing light, sending forth a strong wind, and making an eerie grinding noise. It simply faded from existence. Simultaneously, it reappeared in the subject's cell, and he boarded before any of us could stop him. It vanished again, along with him.
Was this, then, the rescue he spoke of? Was his companion inside the box, or was it the box itself that he referred to? Was he all the things he claimed? I will go over the data again, but doubt I shall ever reach a satisfactory conclusion...
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