"You're in a medical facility. There was...an accident, and well...the doctors are trying to help you," Loretta explains.
"You'll have to do a little better than that," I tell her skeptically with narrowed eyes.
She sighs. "Listen, I can't tell you too much information. The doctors are trying to rebuild your life for you. They're trying to give you...your memories back."
My brow furrows reflexively. Something about that doesn't quite make sense. "Why do it this way? Why not just tell me about my life and see if I remember?" I ask.
"Well...we've tried that," she answers.
"Really?" I say with continued disbelief. "I don't remember that."
"Precisely," Loretta rebuts gravely. "Dr. Spector's technique is revolutionary. It will change the way we treat...uh, people in your condition. The benefit to society and the individual is immeasurable."
"Dr. Spector, huh? Sounds like a spook to me. Not like anyone I want to have bouncing around in my head. And besides, his 'technique' seems to be flawed." I indicate my still aching side.
Loretta closes her eyes and nods. "Yes, it still has to be perfected, but once we figure out how to better control the images, you'll be as good as new...better even."
"Really?" I repeat with the same doubt. "Sounds an awful lot like I'm a guinea pig. Especially with that business you mentioned about the doctors erasing my memory if they found me awake. I don't know that I like that idea... No, actually, I'm certain I don't like that idea."
"Please, Mr..." she pauses again at the slip, "please relax. Like I said, I'm trying to help you."
"And what's with this 'Mr...' stuff?" I demand. "What is it you keep almost calling me?"
"I can't tell you that," she says firmly. "Listen, I've probably already tainted the experiment beyond repair, but so far nothing else has really worked. I don't like what they're doing to you either, but I do like what it will mean for the world if we succeed. So, I'm asking you, please cooperate. Help me and you help yourself."
Quite frankly, this is outrageous. Here I am, lying in a hospital bed, listening to this chick telling me that they're basically doing some kind of mind control experiments on me to supposedly help me regain my memory. How do I know they're not the reason it's gone in the first place? This really sucks, but at the moment, I'm not really sure that I have many other options but to trust her. That is, if any of this is even real in the first place.
"If I were so inclined to help you, what would I do?" I find myself compelled to ask.
Loretta smiles. It's a damn good thing for her that she's so attractive. Otherwise I don't think I'd be as friendly as I've been so far. "Well," she says, "the main thing is just to be receptive. If you keep an open mind and go with it when things seem, well, normal...you should be okay. After a while, it should start feeling familiar to you, and once all the memories are there, they'll let you out of here."
"I would be very surprised if things started to get normal," I put in dryly.
"They should soon," she assures me. "We're on the verge. For now I'll try to fudge the data so that the Dr. Spector doesn't think it's to the point where we need to start over again. As it stands, you could have easily written off any strange experiences as bad dreams. That's how I'll make it seem."
I can't help but snicker sarcastically. "Honey, this is all just one big bad dream."
Loretta eyes me seriously. "So, will you help?" she asks.
I stare back at her. "Well, just out of curiosity, what's to stop me from just waltzing out of here right now?"
"This is a heavily guarded location," she explains. "I assure you, if you tried, you wouldn't get far."
"And then they wipe my slate..." I finish.
"Pretty much."
It is chilling to me that a technology exists to simply erase who I am from even myself. Identity theft, fraud, even total deletion from society would be tolerable when compared with the idea of losing every memory that made you who you are today. I don't know who I am, and even what little I know of myself now could be completely taken away...and the scary part is I might never know. Well, damn it, I'm not going to let them take it anymore. I'm going to get through this...experiment, and when they let me out, I'm going to do everything in my power to find out what happened to me and who I really am, assuming I'm not who they make me think I am.
"Okay then," I say after that thoughtful pause. "I'll help you to help me. But if you're lying to me, you better hope they erase my memory...and you better hope it sticks." I don't feel I need to say anything else.
Loretta nods, though the look in her eyes seems hesitant. "I want to help you, and that's the truth."
Well, though all kinds of alarms are going off about the rest of it, I do believe her about that. Reluctantly, I nod. "Do what you must," I tell her.
With that she reaches over to a nearby stand and grabs a hypodermic and a vial. She draws out a measure of the colorless liquid in the vial and clears the needle of air bubbles. With a sympathetic look, she puts the needle into my arm and slowly pushes down the plunger.
"Good night..." she whispers.
Thoughts come swirling at me from all directions. Half-formed hallucinations of memories I'm not sure I've ever had pelt me without end. Sounds of music, voices, explosions ring through my ears. All my senses are overwhelmed by stimuli screaming all the experiences of life at me until I wake up, once again, in darkness. Curled up in the loneliness, I am content to just rest for a while. Where was I just a moment ago...?
...
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