The Memory Thieves

by Darren Simpson

  With the helicopter tilting and soaring above them, Teal and Ruby emerged to join him. Ruby’s face was rigid with shock. Teal watched the helicopter’s tail disappear. He hugged himself tightly, trembling with emotion.

  The drone of rotor blades faded, leaving only empty sky.

  Cyan was soon on the psychiatrist’s couch in Dr Haven’s office. He’d been summoned by a bleep from his locket. It came as no surprise.

  Cyan fidgeted on the creaking brown leather, glaring at the butterflies that covered the far wall. He couldn’t see Dr Haven; the director was sitting behind him on a stool. But he could hear the doctor’s calm, steady breathing. That soapy, antiseptic smell was so sharp it prickled his nose.

  There was a faint scratching while the director scribbled in his notebook.

  “So,” said Dr Haven. “Your account matches the one given by Teal and Ruby. Although – somewhat predictably – Teal went into far more detail. He spoke at great length about how the incident will have terrible implications, particularly for his wellbeing and mental health. He’ll be absolutely fine, of course, though I had to prescribe a mild sedative.”

  Cyan lifted his glasses to rub angrily at his eyes, before twisting in the doctor’s direction. “Is there any reason our accounts wouldn’t match up?”

  “Not particularly. I merely need to be thorough in checking what was said and what wasn’t. It’s just a precaution, to ensure Jonquil didn’t say anything that might compromise your respective treatments. But everything looks well and good to me.”

  “Well and good?” Cyan’s fringe clung to the sweat on his forehead. “It wasn’t well and good at all! It was awful. Did Mr Banter have to be so rough with Jonquil? He could have hurt her!”

  Dr Haven’s tone was calm, pragmatic. “We did what we had to do, Cyan. Jonquil acted against her treatment, and by doing so she posed a risk not only to herself, but to the rest of you too. We did what was necessary.”

  Cyan grimaced. Was that why the doctor had lied to him – why he’d tried to wipe the bone message from his memory? Was it somehow necessary?

  He opened his mouth, close to telling the doctor that he knew what he’d done. But he thought better of it. There might be consequences. And now he’d seen consequences close up.

  Cyan thought again about how Mr Banter had handled Jonquil and felt glad about a decision he’d made earlier. He wouldn’t tell Dr Haven about the message in cabin 7270. He’d keep it to himself.

  Crossing his arms, he returned his gaze to the framed butterflies. “It’s not just what Mr Banter did. It’s what I did too.”

  His arms began to loosen. Some of the stiffness left his jaw. “I keep replaying it in my head. The way Jonquil screamed. The way she looked at me. She was so scared and…hurt. I feel terrible for running away like that – for getting her taken away. It feels like…like I betrayed her.”

  The doctor’s voice was as level as before. “You didn’t betray her at all, Cyan. You did the right thing. You helped her by discouraging what she was doing. And in doing so you supported her treatment. In that sense, what you did was the opposite of betraying her.”

  Cyan shook his head. “It didn’t feel like that. It felt like I was…hurting her. As in, properly hurting her. She looked at me like I’d just stabbed her in the heart. She was in so much pain.” He massaged his jaw with his hands. “She was so desperate to talk. She kept saying how much she…needed it.”

  The doctor scribbled another note. “People usually don’t know what they need, Cyan. They don’t know what’s best for them. That’s why the world has doctors. You followed protocol and you helped her. Take pride in that and move on.”

  A mirthless laugh left Cyan’s lips. “I’ll never feel proud of it.”

  “Then at least move on. Spare no further thought for Jonquil. Her initial treatment was too gentle; I suspect that’s how this situation arose. It was a blip and it’s easily put right. I’ll see to it that the sanctuary gives Jonquil…exactly what she needs.”

  “Where is she now? Is she okay?”

  “She’s in the medical quarters, recuperating, and she’s perfectly fine. She might be out of action for a few days, though, while I administer some additional treatment.”

  Cyan heard the stool creak. The director went to the cabinets beyond his desk, before returning with a pill and a glass of water. “We’re done now, Cyan. Take this before you go. It’ll help to calm your nerves.”

  The pill was in the centre of Cyan’s palm. He eyed it for some time and realized he felt wary about putting it in his mouth.

  “Is there a problem?” asked the doctor.

  Cyan shook his head, swallowed the pill and washed it down. He sat up on the couch, cocking his head. “Doctor?”

  “M-hm?”

  “Have you noticed there’s no…boyfriends or girlfriends here?”

  “I have. But what’s made you notice?”

  “Jonquil asked about it.”

  “Jonquil brought that up?” A thin huff escaped Dr Haven’s nostrils. “I certainly misjudged her initial treatment.”

  “So what about it?”

  “About what?”

  About what…

  Cyan’s thoughts were muddled. It was hard to remember what he’d just asked.

  He frowned at his knees, trying again. “The…boyfriend and girlfriend thing.”

  Silence from the director. He tightened his tie a little and smiled softly while explaining. “Certain types of relationship, Cyan, impede the Lethe Method. So we use special means to suppress such –” he trailed off, searching for the word – “urges.”

  “Oh.” Cyan blinked and squinted at Dr Haven. “But doesn’t that…” He struggled to gather his thoughts. “Isn’t that…sort of…unnatural?” His arms felt limp and light, as if they might float off into the air. “To control people’s…feelings like that?”

  Cyan blinked slowly at Dr Haven’s face, noticing how kindly his smile was. And there was so much detail in his irises. Grey oceans of texture and tone.

  The doctor cupped Cyan’s elbow to help him to his feet. “You should probably find your room and lie down, Cyan, before your pill kicks in. Would you like me to call Mr Banter so he can help you out?”

  Cyan swayed on his feet. He heard someone laugh and say, “Most definitely not,” before realizing he’d spoken.

  “Rest well, Cyan. You’ve had a very trying day.”

  “Sometime…somewhere,” breathed Cyan. The door buzzed and he let himself out.

  Days went by, blurring and blending in their humdrum way. Uniform colours changed. Rooms, stairways and hallways shifted. Furnishings and fittings came and went. Fittings and furnishings went and came.

  Cyan was starting to worry. It felt like a long spell of time – two or three days, perhaps, maybe even a week – had passed, and there’d still been no sign of Jonquil.

  So his ears pricked up when, on a day of navy-blue uniforms, he overheard a couple of younger residents, Scarlet and Mustard, talking in the library; apparently Mauve, another resident, had seen Jonquil behind the sanctuary.

  Cyan left the library, flew through the foyer and skirted the sanctuary’s side. He turned the rear corner and felt a wave of relief the moment he saw her.

  She was sitting on one of the benches on the paving that edged the building, at the cusp where flagstones gave way to sea lavender and sand. Beyond the sand loomed the rock face – grey-green and emerald with moss – that formed the nook of the island’s cove.

  “Jonquil!” he hollered, but she didn’t move.

  Cyan plonked himself beside her and gave his broadest grin. “Ahoy there! How’s it going? Everything shipshape?” His grin began to slip. “Jonquil?”

  It took a while, but gradually she turned her head. Her pupils settled slowly on him.

  Gingerly, Cyan patted her hand. “What are you up to? Enjoying the cove?”

  The faintest smile edged its way onto Jonquil’s lips, and her head revolved, somewhat mechanically, to fa
ce the mossy rocks.

  “What’s up?” asked Cyan. “Cat got your tongue?” He tutted. “What sort of cat does that anyway, running around taking people’s tongues? I wonder where it keeps them all. Must be a pretty gross stash.” He tried to chuckle, but it came out sounding strained.

  Cyan’s smile disappeared. He touched Jonquil’s hand again. “Hey. I’m sorry about what happened. At the Serenity. I… I didn’t have any choice. I had no idea they’d be so…so…”

  His tongue felt dry and swollen. Too big for his mouth. He raised a hand to his cheek, soothing the heat that flushed there. “It’s the rules, you see. We’re not supposed to talk about the past. You know that, don’t you? It helps us forget.”

  Jonquil turned her head again to Cyan. That vague smile still lingered on her face. “Forget…” Her voice was like an echo, from somewhere far away. Cyan wasn’t sure whether it was the clouds passing overhead, but her eyes seemed to dim.

  He nodded encouragingly. “Yeah. Forgetting. That’s why you came here. Why we all came here.” He touched her hand again. “But still, I’m—”

  “Ahoy, you two!” came a lively call from behind.

  Cyan turned on the bench to see Ruby approaching. Brushing the curls from her face, she took a seat on the other side of Jonquil. Her leg jiggled beneath her blue skirt. “Nice to see you, Jonquil. It’s been…”

  She trailed off when Jonquil got up.

  Frowning together, Ruby and Cyan watched in silence while Jonquil left them and disappeared around the corner.

  Ruby’s leg resumed its jiggling. “That was weird.”

  Cyan’s gaze lingered on the corner. “That’s nothing. You should have seen her before you turned up. It was like she was…somewhere else. Not quite here.”

  “Hm.” Ruby shrugged. “She’s probably just had some strobe therapy. Always spaces you out.”

  “I guess so. But I’ve never seen anyone…that out of it.”

  “Must have been a long session.”

  “Maybe.” Cyan tried to sound convinced. “That’s probably it.”

  “Enough about that.” Ruby gave his hair a ruffle so fierce it left his glasses askew. “I’ve got something for you.”

  She glanced quickly over both shoulders, then slid along the bench to slip something into his blazer pocket.

  Cyan moved to reach for whatever it was, but Ruby stopped him.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “For later. A little something to help you.”

  “Help me with what?”

  Ruby gestured from his head to his toes. “All this moping! Ever since the Serenity thing you’ve been as much fun as a stubbed toe. And frankly you’re boring me.” She rolled her eyes and let her tongue hang out.

  “I am?”

  “You see!” Ruby slapped his arm. “Normally you’d shoot something back at me, but you’re all slumpy and dull. Even Teal’s more fun than you right now.”

  The sides of Cyan’s mouth drooped. “That bad?”

  “Worse. So, that little something in your pocket is there to perk you up.” She lowered her voice. “Just promise me you won’t touch it ’til tonight, when everyone’s asleep.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Just do as I say. You’re lucky I’m sharing this with you. Earn it, okay? Keep it to yourself.”

  Cyan gave a shrug. “Fine.”

  “Goody-good. I’m off, then. Showing Pewter around some caves. Sometime-somewhere!”

  Cyan stretched out a hand, but before he could say anything, Ruby had run around the corner and vanished from sight.

  That night, long after residents had followed their lockets to their rooms, Cyan sat upright on his bed. He was still fully dressed in uniform and had a book open in his hands, though he hadn’t read a word.

  He was staying awake for Ruby, but wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw Jonquil’s face, the way it had been by the cove.

  Even on previous nights, sleep hadn’t come easily. In the quiet darkness, with nothing to distract him, Cyan’s thoughts always turned to the same things: codes on bones and notes in drawers; carved messages about past lives and memory thieves.

  Cyan lowered his book. He could tell it was late. The Lethe Method may have done away with clocks, but it couldn’t stop the silent sluggishness – almost a change in air pressure – that clogs a room when everyone’s asleep but you. Cyan’s current room – like most of the sanctuary’s bedrooms – had no window. But he could feel that all was still on the dunes.

  Leaving his book face-down on the pillow, Cyan reached warily into his blazer and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, with what he assumed was Ruby’s writing on its front:

  Are you SURE everyone’s asleep?

  Cyan shoved the note beneath his armpit and checked the door was still shut. Residents weren’t allowed pens or paper. He had no idea how Ruby had got hold of both.

  After listening out carefully, he withdrew the sheet and unfolded it to find a list of instructions.

  1. Are you REALLY sure everyone’s asleep?

  Cyan rolled his eyes.

  2. Go into one of your room’s snugs but make sure you LEAVE YOUR LOCKET in its charger.

  Cyan contemplated his locket, which was slotted into the charger on the bed’s headboard. He rubbed his lips doubtfully, shrugged to himself, then entered the snug in a vertical section of the room’s frame. He felt uneasy without his locket, but distracted himself by reading the next instruction.

  3. Feel around the lip at the bottom of the snug. You’ll find two small hollows. Press them at the same time.

  Cyan crouched and did as the sheet instructed. It took some fumbling, but to his surprise he found two subtle dents, tucked out of sight within the ebony grooves. He pushed them both and heard a quiet click from somewhere within the frame.

  His chin dropped when a section of the snug’s rear slid backwards and sideways, to reveal a hole large enough to climb through.

  After staring at the opening for at least a minute, Cyan slowly lifted Ruby’s sheet to his face.

  4. In you go.

  He snorted a laugh and backed slowly out from the snug. His eyes skimmed the next instruction.

  5. If you’re backing away you’re a phony. All those times you’ve made fun of Teal for being chicken! So go on. Get in. I DARE you.

  “Dares me?” Cyan snorted another laugh. “She honestly thinks I’m going to fall for that?”

  He looked back and forth between the opening and the bed, then cursed beneath his breath and re-entered the snug. He looked again at the instructions while there was light from his room.

  6. You in? Good. Knew you would. Climb onto the ladder in the shaft behind the snug. Remember the code next to the opening you’ve come through (DON’T forget it!) and climb up. Keep going until you reach the top. I’ll hear you when you get there.

  Cyan clicked his tongue and – after slipping the instructions back into his pocket – got to his knees to poke his head through the opening. He peered down into a metal shaft with ladders attached to each of its four sides. It was hard to tell how deep the shaft went; the lights trailing the ladders were small and dim.

  Tightening his lips, Cyan climbed through the opening and onto the nearest ladder. After making a mental note of the code stencilled next to the opening – GC5 – he began to move upwards.

  As his eyes adjusted, he noticed horizontal shafts that regularly met his own, extending away in four opposite directions. He also clocked the steel cables stretched tautly along pulleys in every shaft. It was only after climbing a while longer that it really hit him: he was climbing within the framework that both supported and shuffled the upper rooms.

  Cyan’s heart stopped and he reached uselessly for his pocket, fumbling for the locket he’d left behind, before reminding himself that the floors never shuffled overnight. Even so, he shuddered and picked up his pace.

  He sensed a change in the light not far above – a darkness more blue than
black – and was soon climbing from the ladder’s top onto a metal gangway. Even though he was still indoors, Cyan felt a metallic chill in the air. Buttoning his blazer, he crept carefully along and peered about the gloom.

  He was on one of countless criss-crossing gangways, which all led to other shafts with their own sets of ladders. Immense metal cogs, gears and pulleys filled the rails above Cyan’s head, fanning out into indigo distance.

  “About time.”

  The voice startled him and he grabbed a rail to stop himself from falling.

  “Made you jump.” A dark outline appeared by some cogs.

  “Ruby!”

  She raised her finger to her lips and Cyan slapped a hand over his mouth. His voice dropped to a hiss while he pointed at the shaft by his feet. “You nearly killed me!”

  “Better luck next time.”

  “Not funny.”

  “Welcome, by the way. What do you think?” Ruby opened her arms and twirled on the spot.

  Cyan peered again into the gloom. “It’s… It… We’re at the top of the framework, aren’t we?”

  A slow clap from Ruby. “You’re smarter than you look. Doesn’t take much, though.”

  “How’d you find out how to get in here?”

  “Happened a while back. I dropped my locket in a snug during a shuffle. My finger brushed one of the hollows, so I started exploring. I found the second hollow and…voilà. Hey, do you know the number of the opening you climbed through?”

  “GC5.”

  “Good. Shaft GC’ll take you back to your room. You left your locket there, right?”

  “Yeah. Why’d I have to leave it?”

  “So no one knows we left our rooms.”

  “How do you mean?” Cyan’s eyebrows drew together. “Hang on. Are you saying…”

  “Yeah, the staff can track our lockets.”

  Cyan’s head pulled back. “You really think so?”

  “Well, duh.” Ruby rapped his forehead with her knuckles. “You’re such an idiot. If your locket can tell you where things are, it must be telling something else where it is. It’s called logic, Cyan. Try it some time. And you saw how the helicopter came when you called for help, didn’t you? The staff knew exactly where you were.”