A strange visitor.

The following day, Drake was relaxing in his apartment with a glass of scotch and a good novel when there was a knock on the door. Startled, he put down the book and went to the peephole. Outside, a slight woman was waiting. She was dressed casually but looked nervous.

"Can I help you?" he called without opening the door.

"I need to talk to you, Mr. Drake." She called out. Drake didn't know who she was, but the fact that she had his home address and name was a problem that needed a solution. He opened the door and ushered the young woman in. "May I take your coat?"

As she took her overcoat off, she spoke. "Mr. Drake, I know what you can do. I know that your first impulse is to scrub all of my memories of you and of this place and send me off with no clue how I got here. That would be a mistake. Would you please hear me out before you make any rash moves?"

He was already rifling through her attributes as she spoke. She blinked twice. "That... feels stranger than I expected. Did you take my dishonesty?"

He nodded. "I also removed your ability to cause me harm, and added a little something I keep on hand. It's a commitment to my well-being that I keep around for these sorts of situations."

She paused. "Hmm... You're right. I never doubted your abilities but experiencing them is indescribable." She offered her hand. "Vanessa Chandler, pleased to finally meet you."

"How did you know about me?"

"Senator Chandler is my brother. I believe you've done some work for him in the past. I was able to **** your information out of him." She looked surprised. "I... I guess I really can't lie now. Or even euphemize."

Drake nodded. "Benjamin can't seem to stay out of trouble. So what do you need from me?"

She thought carefully about her next words. "I the following things removed from myself: my memories, my ability to form new memories, my ability to lie, my ability to feel pain, fear, or discomfort, my ability to decline requests and commands, and my ability to become pregnant or contract diseases."

Drake's eyebrows raised. Was this woman asking him to turn her into some sort of sex doll? "I assume you'll want these things back at some point?"

She nodded. "We'll get to that. Afterwards, I'd like something much more prosaic. I would like you to personally deliver me to this address." She handed him a strip of paper with an address on it.

He scoffed. "I assume this is for some sort of roleplay or sexual adventure. Ma'am, I don't traffic in personal indulgences. I wouldn't have a moment's rest if I catered to every pervert or cheating spouse that wanted my services."

"Mr. Drake, you don't understand. My brother has made some very serious promises to some very important people - promises that he can't fulfill. Going after him is useless, so they will likely come after me. I don't know their names or occupations, or I'd tell them to you. There's a certain gene that the women in our family have and they want to run tests on us. Since he won't allow them to use his daughter, they will almost certainly use me."

Drake pondered all of this. "So why wipe your memory? And what about all of the sex stuff?"

"To be frank - and I have to be, of course - the genetic anomaly involves my, erm, sexual prowess. The women of my family have certain traits that only appear at the height of sexual ecstasy. I've held on to my chastity for fear of how those traits may manifest, but it appears there is no other option. Mr. Drake," she looked to him pleadingly, "my niece is young. Too young. I've resolved that there's no other way out of this. So I want to give them what they want with as little difficulty as possible."

"So how do you know they'll release you once they've, ah, gotten what they need?"

Vanessa responded quickly. "They'll run their tests and isolate the gene. It may take a while, but I have time. The anterograde memory loss ensures I'll never be able to identify them or anything about them. They have given my brother their word that they'll return me when they've... finished. They gain nothing by holding on to me and they make an enemy of a sitting senator."

"So I'm to hold onto these things for you, and when they've finished their work you'll be returned to me so I can put them back?" Drake sipped his scotch thoughtfully.

"That's right."

"And my payment?"

She smiled. "Because of the nature of this job, we intend to offer more than simply money. The people I'm dealing with have things that might be of great value to you. Things like a device that allows you to fabricate memories to place in people's minds, rather than simply removing and adding them."

"Bullshit. If they knew about me and my abilities I'd be dead by now." Drake almost forgot that she couldn't lie.

"They don't know about you - they have their only clumsy, labor-intensive implantation method. But with your gifts, you should be able to slide the memories right into someone's mind without them even knowing." She held out a handful of small vials. "Here are a handful of prefab memories - try them out. In any case, we will also compensate you in the form of $15 million and a favor from my brother. Not bad for a day's work, no?"

There was something off here, but Drake couldn't put his finger on it. He knew that she was telling him the truth, and the offer was quite lucrative. Seeing him considering it, Vanessa decided to sweeten the pot. "You know, they're not in any hurry to get ahold of me. Once you've performed your duties, I could be yours for days or even weeks before you turned me over..." She smirked seductively. "I know you have your appetites, Mr. Drake."