by Vincent Vale
It must be night, I thought. The door’s closed. The light’s low. Sleep. Go back to sleep before the memories return.
I closed my eyes and lay in the dark. Instead of finding sleep, I found that oppressive sensation I’d felt before. When I opened my eyes, I saw the doctor standing above me with a perverse grin on his face.
“How did you get in here!” I cried. “I didn’t hear the magnetic lock release or the door open. What do you want?”
“I want to make sure you’re feeling well,” replied the doctor. “You’re a special patient, Theron, and I’m confident you’ll soon be cured.”
“Actually—” I held my tongue. It would’ve been a mistake to tell him about the memories. If I concerned the doctor, I might extend my stay in the sanitarium forever, enduring the inner mysteries of the sphincter beast over and over again. “Actually... I feel fine. Now, I’d like to go to sleep.”
I rolled on my side and stared at the wall, hoping for the doctor to leave. When there was no indication of his departure, I prepared to voice my anger for the interruption to my sleep, but when I turned, the doctor was gone.
The following day, I was eager to tell Mage of my strange visit in the middle of the night. I went to her quarters and then to the congregation room, but she was nowhere to be found.
I confronted Sensimion. “Where’s Mage?”
“During the night, I heard her being taken to the sphincter beast for treatment. They’re usually finished by morning, but it seems they’re taking longer than usual.”
Half the day had passed when Mage was finally brought to the congregation room by an orderly. He dropped her body into a chair and then left the room.
I held her hand. “Mage? Are you all right? Can you hear me?”
She was unresponsive, staring blankly through half-mast eyelids.
I gasped in horror. One of the sphincter beast’s robotic insects clung to the side of her head. I tried to pull it off, but its barbed metal legs were embedded under her skin. It buzzed and clicked while moving in an up and down motion.
“What the fuck is it doing to you! I’m here, my friend. Wake up.” I continued trying to wake her, but her conscious mind was beyond my reach.
Sensimion approached. “Like Mage told you, this catatonic state is a normal reaction to the treatment. Don’t worry about her.”
“Don’t worry? What about this robotic bug?”
“It’s a therapeutic process to help heal her mind. She’ll snap out of it soon enough.”
I was no less concerned for her. I adjusted her body so she sat with a more dignified posture. I fixed her hair, brushing it back with a gentle hand.
“What are you doing?” asked Sensimion.
“I’m doing what she did for me when I was in this condition.”
“Do as you like,” huffed Sensimion. “However, when it’s I who sit in a helpless stupor, with twisted limbs and tangled hair, I’d prefer not to be stroked and squeezed like a sick puppy.”
“I’ll try to keep my hands off you, Sensimion.”
“As you should!” Sensimion walked to the main portal, where he tampered with the archway by jamming a fork into a seam of its frame.
I continued sitting with Mage, until I decided she wasn’t comfortable. I gently lifted her from the chair and carried her back to her sleeping quarters. I carefully placed her on the cot. She truly was beautiful.
“I’ll keep you company, Mage. I’ll keep you safe.”
I placed my face next to her lips and felt her warm breath on my cheek. I rested my head on her chest and listened to her heartbeat. I sat patiently with her, and eventually I slipped into deep thought, staring forth, as if entranced.
Hours later, Sensimion entered Mage’s quarters and jolted me. “What’s wrong with you, Theron?”
I gazed intensely at him. “Memories have been surfacing in my mind over the past few weeks. But they’re unfamiliar, as though I’m remembering the memories of other men.”
Sensimion’s eyes widened. “What happens in these memories?”
“So many things. They’re not memories of my life before this place. Of this I’m certain. It’s as though I have the memories of many different lives tangled in my head. The people and scenery of each set of memories are so distinctly different from the next, it’s like each set of memories takes place in a different age of history.” I shook my head in confusion. “Could I be remembering past lives I’ve lived? Impossible! Ridiculous!”
“Reincarnation?” Sensimion swung a paranoid look to the door. “Don’t let the orderlies hear about this. We must keep this to ourselves. These memories may be a clue as to what’s really going on in this place. We must investigate further.”
“How?” I asked. “I can’t make sense of any of these memories. I know nothing about history or the world beyond the walls of this sanitarium.”
“We do have resources, Theron. Follow me.” Sensimion led me out of Mage’s quarters and back to the congregation room, where he pointed to a table with an inlaid view-panel. “We’re allowed access to the library. It contains everything about the world above. Use it to make sense of the memories. Try to identify any names or places you can recall.”
“This seems impossible. If they are memories of past lives, it could take a lifetime to sort through the details of history.”
“Then I suggest you start immediately, Theron.”
I touched the empty seat beside me. “Not until Mage is better.”
Once Mage woke up, I began my investigation. I spent the better part of the next month studying human history. I discovered many correlations between my strange memories and the reality of the past.
I informed Sensimion and Mage. “It’s like there’s a seepage of the past welling up in my mind. I possess the memories of many people, spanning back to the beginning of recorded history, and possibly further. I’m uncertain how these memories can be.”
Maybe I am insane, I thought.
Sensimion’s mouth hung open. “Whose memories are they? What are the connections between these people, if any? Could it be reincarnation, as you suggested earlier?”
“It’s not reincarnation, since some of the people lived at the same time. There is, however, a similarity shared by many of the people. Most were a part of some significant turning point in human history.” I brought up the image of a man on the view-panel. “Seven hundred years ago, this man perfected the process of cold fusion. It’s odd, for I can recall the moments leading to his breakthrough and the days following. But that’s all. I know nothing else of this man, his thoughts, or the life he led.”
I displayed another portrait. “This man, in the mid-twentieth century, helped develop the integrated circuit, which gave rise to the computer age.” Another portrait was displayed. “And this man, who lived during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, was a great leader who founded the Mongol Empire. My memories of his life are much more extensive.” And another. “This man was a religious icon whose teachings were the inspiration for a religion called Christianity. I have the memories of the last few years of his life.”
“Who else?” asked Sensimion eagerly.
“I’ve made a list of names on this scrap of paper.”
“Be careful!” Sensimion snatched away the paper and tucked it into his pocket. “We can’t let the doctor know about this. There’s something unethical going on in this place, and we’re swimming through the thick of it.”
“I think you’re right, Sensimion.” I surveyed the patients in the congregation room. “Why doesn’t anyone get visitors? Someone must have loved ones worried about them.”
Mage, who had been listening on in silence, spoke up. “The two of you are feeding on each other’s delusions. Please, Theron, stop talking about these strange memories.”
“I can’t ignore what’s inside me.”
“You must, or the doctor will never release you. If we get well soon, we can be together on the outside.”
“We will be,” I said. “
I promise you, Mage.”
She placed her hand on my chest. “Then stop this, Theron.”
I displayed another image on the view-panel. “Just look at the things I’m remembering. How is it possible?”
“It’s not possible.” Tears filled her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mage. Please, don’t cry.” I watched sadly as she departed. I wished she believed me, for I felt a strong bond with her. I wanted to share everything with her.
Don’t you know how much I care for you?
“She’ll get over it,” said Sensimion. “Now, what are we going to do?”
I sighed. “The answers are with the doctor. We need to see what happens in the chamber of the sphincter beast while someone’s undergoing treatment.”
“I agree,” said Sensimion, “but it won’t be easy. The security door is state of the art. And even if we could bypass it, the doctor and orderlies spend nearly all their time in that room, making it impossible to enter undetected. And don’t forget we’re locked in our sleeping quarters at night, when patients are treated.”
“Don’t worry, Sensimion. I have a plan. It doesn’t require us to breach the door or enter the room. Remember, we only need to see inside.” I didn’t elaborate further, since two orderlies entered the congregation room to deliver lunch.
An orderly served me a plate of the usual synthetic slop. I spoke to him like a madman. “Orderly! My sleeping quarters are unfit! The shit and piss of a thousand men have been deposited within. I fear that this human excrement might rise from the cracks in the floor and envelop me.” I banged my face on the table, causing my eyes to tear and my nose to bleed. “I haven’t slept in days. How can I get well without sleep? I demand a room with more comfort and less stench!”
The orderly grunted in annoyance. “You can relocate to the sleeping quarters next to your current quarters. They’re empty.”
“Unacceptable!” I exclaimed. “That one’s filthy, too. The only clean quarters are at the end of the hall, next to the chamber of the rehabilitation vesicle.”
The orderly slid a feeding tube down the throat of a catatonic patient sitting near me. “Fine. I’ll unlock it after lunch. Now, eat your meal.”
Satisfied, I ate my shitty meal with a smile.
When the orderlies finally left the congregation room, I informed Sensimion. “My plan is unfolding perfectly. When I’m relocated to the sleeping quarters next to the chamber of the sphincter beast, I’ll begin drilling a small peephole through the common wall.” I nodded my head with delight. “It couldn’t be simpler.”
“Where will you find a drill?”
“The walls of this place are crumbling. I won’t need a powerful tool. The broken medical orb left beneath my cot contains a micro scalpel. I can modify it into a pulse drill. It’ll probably take a long time with such a weak tool, but time is what we have in this prison.”
“How do you know about such technology?”
“I know things now. The memories have given me experiences and knowledge of many things. I’m more than I was before.”
That night, I smuggled the medical orb into my new sleeping quarters and began. I pried open a side panel of the orb and revealed its complicated inner workings. They were so familiar. I looked to the memories that crowded my mind and found the memories of a woman. She was an engineer who designed such robots. I recognized one of six power-nodes and removed it carefully, insulating my fingers with some fabric from my shirt. I located the micro scalpel and followed the circuitry to its control chip. This was all I needed. I disconnected the scalpel and control chip and left the rest behind.
How can I know these things? I wondered, somewhat afraid of myself.
I coupled the power-node to the micro scalpel and began strategically shorting circuitry pathways. When finished, I held my breath for a moment and then used a piece of metal to temporarily bridge two circuits. The micro scalpel shot forth a pulsing beam that made me smile. For some reason, it was the happiest I’d been in the sanitarium.
The next night, I worked out the proper angle and engaged the tiny pulse drill. Despite a slow progress, it functioned perfectly. Worried about an orderly entering my quarters, I positioned my cot against the wall so I could work lying down, with the drill concealed under my blanket.
Every night the peephole got deeper. Occasionally, when the pulse drill’s intensity weakened, I’d replace the power-node. On the tenth night, I halted my work when I heard the door opening. I dropped the drill under my cot and pulled my cover over my head.
“Theron?” came a soft voice. “Are you awake?”
“Mage?” I sat up. “How did you get out of your quarters?”
“I tampered with my door’s magnetic lock before bedtime. I wanted to see you.”
“You’re amazing,” I said, hugging her close. “But you could get in trouble for such defiance.”
“I’m worried about you, Theron.” She took my hand and ran a finger over a row of energy burns. “What are you doing in here? You seem exhausted during the day.”
I looked in her round blue eyes. I can’t upset her. She doesn’t need to know.
“I know you’re up to something.” She brushed her hand against my blanket. “What’s this dust?”
I can’t lie to her.
I moved the blanket away from the wall. “I’ve been drilling a peephole, so I can see inside the chamber of the rehabilitation vesicle. So I can see the truth.”
“This idea of conspiracy is consuming you, Theron.”
My head sagged. “If there’s no conspiracy and the memories aren’t real, then I am insane.” I placed a finger to the peephole. “This gives me hope.”
She shook her head. “What of me? What of us? With friendship, hope is forged. I can be your sanity. Together, we can live a normal life, despite a few crazy, stupid memories.”
I looked at her fondly. She’s the only person in the world who cares about me.
“You’re right,” I said. “I’ve been a fool. I risk our future together. I’ll stop. I’ll stop for you... for us.”
She pulled me down on the cot and I felt her warm body against mine. I was soothed by the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
This is right. This is the answer to my madness—the closeness, the companionship, the shared moments, the love.
I sat up. “You must go back to your quarters and fix the magnetic lock.”
“Just a few more minutes.”
I kissed her with passion and then pushed her to the door. “Go.”
She looked back at me. “Is this what love feels like, Theron?”
“I think so.” I felt a strange excitement—the chance for a future, for something more, for happiness. I thought of our possible life together, somewhere else, somewhere far from the sanitarium.
After two hours, I heard the sound of activity from the hallway—the scuttle of feet, the squeak of a door, the command of an orderly, and finally the reply of Mage’s fragile voice.
“No,” I whispered. “She doesn’t deserve this, not now.”
I struggled with my thoughts. I must be good. She wanted me to stop.
I grabbed the pulse drill from under the bed. I had to know.
I need more power.
I took the remaining three power-nodes and coupled them together. I risked an overload that could’ve blown off my head. I didn’t give a shit. I turned it on and it pulsed with triple intensity. An hour had passed when the pulse beam broke through the other side of the wall. I frantically shut it off, fearing the beam had shot through the other side and caught the attention of the doctor and orderlies.
After ten minutes, when neither orderly nor doctor burst through my door, I was confident I had gone undetected. I put the pulse drill down and eagerly gazed into the peephole.
I saw the doctor standing beside the sphincter beast, its nano-fiber tendril extending into the doctor’s forehead. Mage was apparently still within the confines of the bio-mechanical creature. I wondered what was trul
y happening before my eyes. I wondered about my memories of the past.
How can they be? Are they divined from the sphincter beast, the doctor, or insanity?
For hours the doctor was linked to the so-called “rehabilitation vesicle” until he shook with something like annoyance.
“The fusion isn’t stable!” he said to the orderly beside him. “The quantum threshold collapsed! She’s no longer a possible subject.”
I’d heard those words before, when the orb scanned me after my own treatment.
What’s a quantum threshold? I wondered. What’s he trying to fuse with us? This isn’t about our mental health. This is something bigger.
A moment later, Mage’s limp body spilled from the sphincter beast in an incontinent birthing. I looked on in horror as the orderly approached her, bent downward, and spun her head. A gruesome crunch nearly caused me to vomit. I trembled.
Motherfuckers! Why? She didn’t deserve this. I’ll kill them. All of them.
“Throw the body into the incinerator,” said the doctor. He gestured to the wall behind the sphincter beast and it rose up, revealing a secret chamber.
Within was something so grotesque that I couldn’t process what I saw. Many female figures hung from the ceiling connected by a network of transparent tubes attached to their mouths and genitals—some kind of pink nutrient broth flowed through them. Their bellies were swollen. Were they pregnant? Was it some kind of awful experiment? Where were the babies being birthed from these poor, tortured women?
I watched as the orderly carried Mage’s body to the center of the secret room and cast her into a dark hole. I heard an intense electric surge and Mage was gone.
My view drifted to the doctor, who swung a look of awareness to the peephole. I shrank back in panic. I quickly hid myself under my blanket and faked sleep for an unbearable period.
I heard the click of my door’s magnetic lock and feared I’d been discovered. When no one entered, I realized it was merely morning.
I sat at the library view-panel. My plans had changed. I was getting the fuck out as soon as possible. It didn’t matter what was going on. It only mattered that I wanted to live.