Memory Blank

by John Stith

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said finally. Was this why Lynn wasn’t home? Maybe Nikki had already taken her to a new home.

  “But it is. It has been.”

  “I don’t seem to be able to change your mind.”

  Nikki fell silent.

  “Let me be clear,” Cal said, “about one of the few things I understand. I don’t want you to leave.” He swallowed hard. “But if that’s what you really want, will you tell me your plans?”

  “I’ll get an apartment in Machu Picchu, near the clinic. In the next week.”

  So Lynn must have just been at school. But what were Nikki’s plans for her?

  “How does Lynn fit into all of this?” he asked.

  Nikki’s eyes had been lowered, but abruptly she snapped her gaze back onto Cal’s face and her eyes widened. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean who does she stay with?”

  Nikki looked like someone had slapped her, her face going from shocked anger to hurt. Then the hurt expression was quickly replaced by a puzzled frown. “Cal, are you all right?”

  “No,” he said simply.

  “Lynn is dead. Are you telling me that you don’t—”

  Even before Nikki had finished speaking, Cal felt the blood drain heavily from his face. His body began to shake. He shivered uncontrollably, and his mouth moved soundlessly.

  He was totally unaware of Nikki’s movement, but some seconds later he realized that she was embracing him, and that his arms were wrapped around her. Her arms reached tightly around his upper back. He tried repeatedly to speak, unsuccessfully, feeling dangerously short of breath, his pulse pounding in his ears. He held onto Nikki even harder.

  Nikki squeezed his shoulders again, then slipped her hands down his back, and hugged him all the harder at the base of his spine.

  He felt a blinding pain. In a final instant of consciousness, Cal heard himself begin to scream.

  CHAPTER 5

  Hints

  For the second time that day, Cal regained consciousness. Instead of dusty ground beneath him, however, soft carpet cushioned his body. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable, and grimaced. He felt worse than the first time.

  “Cal, are you okay?” It was Nikki’s voice.

  What was Nikki doing here? He puzzled over the question for a brief moment before he found the answer. They had been talking, and she had told him Lynn was dead.

  Still without being able to recall the actual event, he knew without doubt why Lynn was not at home. Nikki had spoken the truth. Cal felt sadder than he could ever remember feeling before.

  “I’m okay,” he said at last, and opened his eyes.

  Nikki, kneeling beside him, took a deep breath. “What’s going on? What happened to you?” She touched his cheek. Her gaze was softer than before.

  Cal lay there weakly, and looked up at her. “I’m not the right person to ask. How did Lynn die?”

  “You really don’t remember, do you?” Nikki wiped her eye.

  “Please tell me.”

  “She died down there, with all the others. On Earth. You remember that much?”

  “I do—now. Why was she on Earth?”

  “Cal, I don’t think it’s best for you to think about it now. You may be in this state because of your damned unreasonable guilt. I want to get you to the clinic.”

  “I need to know. I have to know. Just tell me.”

  Nikki leaned back. “She was there on a field trip.”

  “At my suggestion?”

  “We both agreed that it was good for her.”

  “But I pressed for it, right?” Earth was his home, after all. He was sure that Nikki was a second-generation Daedalus resident.

  “That doesn’t make it your fault.”

  Cal struggled to rise. “Can you help me?”

  “You stay put. You’ve done enough damage to your body already. It’s a wonder you’re not partially paralyzed from the impact.” Cal raised his eyebrows, and Nikki added, “I saw your back while you were out. What the hell have you been doing?” The tenderness that had been in evidence while Cal was recovering faded.

  It was a little too late to try to conceal some of the day’s events. “I don’t know how I got the bruises. Evidently I spent part of my discretionary income last night at Forget-Me-Now.”

  “Forget-Me-Now? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know yet. Can you help me up?”

  “As long as you agree to let me get you into the clinic. Just for tests.”

  Cal propped himself up on his elbows and grabbed a chair arm to pull on.

  “Damn, you can be stubborn.” Once it was obvious that he wasn’t going to stay still, she helped him the rest of the way. “Why Forget-Me-Now?”

  “My very question. I don’t have any idea why.” Cal stood shakily, partly supported by Nikki’s arm. “But I plan to find out. I think if I visit my office, maybe more will come back to me. Visual stimulants seem to work the best.”

  “Cal, did you—did you remember me?” Nikki was breathless.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Why do you answer questions with questions? I don’t know. You’re different somehow.”

  “No, I didn’t really remember you,” he said candidly. “At least at first. I still don’t know you, but things are beginning to come back to me.”

  “So all those words about needing me, wanting me to stay, they—”

  “They came from the heart. That’s all I can say. Feelings seem to come back prior to the actual remembrances.” Cal saw the hurt in her eyes, and it tore at him. “I know it’s damn little comfort, but it’s the truth. And it’s all I can offer. I didn’t say those things to manipulate you. I said what I felt. It’s obvious that I haven’t done very much of that recently, or you might know what’s been going on, and maybe I wouldn’t have driven you away. But right now I’ve got to jog more memories loose—I’ve got to go to the office.”

  “But I want you in the clinic. You’re under too much stress.”

  “I’m sorry, Nikki. I just can’t. It’s another feeling, without any hard facts to back it up, but something’s wrong. More wrong than just my cracking under pressure and vacuuming my brains. I’ve got to find out what it is.”

  Impulsively Cal kissed her and turned to go. From the open doorway, as he looked back, he saw Nikki standing motionless. Her expression was unreadable.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated softly. “I have no choice.”

  The door closed quietly, and he stood in front of it for a moment, wondering if he really was doing the right thing. Would she be there when he came back? With his recent history, would he even be able to find his way back?

  He was almost to the tubeway before he said, “Hello, Vincent.”

  “Hello. Where are you going now?”

  “To my office. Maybe I can learn more there.”

  “Which office?”

  “You mean there’s more than one?”

  “Zacto. You’ve got one in Machu Picchu and one on the Vittoria.”

  “Let’s try Machu Picchu first. I suppose the one on Vittoria is only temporary. I hadn’t made plans to leave on the Vittoria, had I?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  As Cal descended into the tubeway station, he noticed a child’s scrawl in chalk, saying, “Machu Picchu Choo Choo.” For an instant, he wondered if Lynn had written it. With an effort, he forced the image from his mind.

  According to Vincent, his office address was not far from one of the tube stops. It was fairly easy to find. The building looked a lot like the hotel from the outside, except for the gold sign saying Computer Control Systems.

  The receptionist’s desk in the lobby was vacant. Cal was surprised for a moment, but thought to look at Vincent’s screen. It was probably after quitting time, so most people would be gone by now. Next to a locked door leading to the office area, was a thumbprint square. Cal tried it.

  With a sharp click, the door moved aside, r
evealing a long corridor lined with doors on both walls. Fortunately, the offices each had nametags adjacent to the doorways. Cal walked along the hall, looking at the tags on the right side more expectantly than at the ones on the left. Five doors down, he found his office, on the right side.

  The room was utilitarian, but amply equipped. Two large screens occupied much of the wall space. Dominating the room was a massive desk with a tilted screen set in one surface. The window gave him the familiar view angled toward the far end of Daedalus’s cylinder.

  Feeling like an intruder, Cal moved to the chair and sat. Flush with the front edge of the desk was a faint rectangle a different color from the desk itself. He pushed on it lightly, and it first moved in past the desk surface, then sprang back so he could grip it and pull it out, revealing a keyboard.

  He pressed the white square with his thumb, and the tilted screen brightened. Shortly the image of Vittoria hung in the air above the desk screen. Cal’s peripheral vision picked up a flicker of motion, and he realized that most of the switches on his keyboard now had new legends. He pressed living area and looked back at the hologram.

  The ship’s image was reminiscent of a shish kebab skewer with one large turnip and two smaller cylinders impaled. One cylinder was separated from the other bodies by the length of the skewer. A wide band around the turnip’s broadest contour turned orange to indicate the area designated for living space. So the Vittoria spun on the skewer much like Daedalus did. The sharp end pointed in the direction it would eventually travel.

  The switch marked offices and labs lit up the saucer-shaped area that covered the blunt end of the body and stretched to the living area. Agriculture lit the final section.

  Cal touched specific and office, and a new set of key top legends replaced the old ones.

  “Vincent, what’s my office number on the Vittoria?”

  “Fourteen twelve D.”

  As soon as Cal entered the number, a blinking red light lit approximately midway between the living area and the center of the office space. Uneasiness grew within him as he looked at the glowing image of Vittoria. He felt even more uncomfortable than he had in the Forget-Me-Now parlor. Had he had some painful experiences there?

  He tapped several more keys, and a recording began an overview of the Vittoria. Cal settled back into his chair and watched as it began a summary of Vittoria’s design, propulsion, life-support, control systems, shielding, navigation, backup systems, communications, agriculture, living conditions, and history.

  The information all seemed new, but he found himself absorbing much of it more easily than he would have expected for a first-time exposure. It was, however, not as good as actually being there. He still felt drawn to the Vittoria. But first, there were things to be learned here.

  Maybe his phone list would tell him if Domingo, the murdered man, was someone he talked to. A moment later, a column on the left showed full names and numbers that could have been personal ID numbers or phone numbers, or both. In the center were addresses. To the right were short forms of the names, which had to be what he normally used to initiate a call.

  The list included Nikki, several names of people with addresses near his, and a few he supposed were business associates, including Russ Tolbor. Cal stared at the list, wondering who, if anyone, on the list he could trust as a confidant. It was only then that he realized that the one name he had been afraid to see, Gabriel Domingo, was not there.

  At the bottom of the screen was a message that said More. He hit the button marked next page, but the only change was that the bottom line now said More (PW). A help menu confirmed that the rest of the list was protected by a password. But why?

  Abruptly his meager confidence in his own innocence dissipated. Domingo could easily be on the concealed portion of the list. But why would he password-protect just someone’s name? Surely the mere fact of knowing someone would not be incriminating.

  He tried a few obvious attempts at a password. It didn’t respond to Nikki, Cal, password, or any of several other possibilities.

  “Vincent, do you know any of my passwords on this system?”

  “Negatory, good buddy.”

  “How do you expect to help me when you know so little?”

  “Wait. Don’t tell me.”

  “Thanks, Vincent. Go take a nap.”

  Dead end. Unless he could remember more. Maybe his computer mailbox would yield a clue.

  There were no incoming messages, but the last three messages he had sent were still stored in the computer. The first was a status report apparently sent to his boss. The destination field said Tom H, whose office was evidently just down the hall. The details meant little to Cal, but listed four final tests. Three were marked complete, leaving only a final communications test. At the end of an otherwise businesslike report, were the lines, “I left another cutting for you. Don’t mess this one up.”

  Cal’s attention was momentarily diverted by the sound of snoring.

  “Stop that, Vincent.”

  The second note was puzzling. “21:00. Tinsdale.” The message destination said “Angel,” but there was no Angel on his phone list. The real name must be in the password-protected section. Twenty-one hundred had to be a time, but what did “Tinsdale” mean?

  Perhaps he could be seeing another woman. Was that why Nikki had been feeling shut out? That would certainly do it. Maybe she was just too polite or afraid to mention it, or she had no idea. But no, he couldn’t accept it. The attraction he felt to Nikki was so strong, he could not believe he would do that to her, and no matter how much he had gone through in the last ten years, he couldn’t see himself changing that much.

  “What’s ‘Tinsdale’?” he asked.

  “A twenty-first-century social revolution moving force, a park on Vittoria, and a brand of life-support suits,” Vincent told him.

  A park on Vittoria made the most sense. Was he to meet Angel at twenty-one hundred in Tinsdale Park? Tonight? Maybe it was last night. The message transmittal time was yesterday at 19:00. There could be an understanding that undated meeting times meant the current day, or prearranged meeting days might have been established. Then again, maybe his Tinsdale suit was due out of repairs at 21:00. But then “Angel” wouldn’t be significant. Angel’s Suit Repair sounded unlikely, and in any event wouldn’t need to be password-protected.

  He gave up temporarily. The last message was to “Jam,” and said: “Hope to learn more about S & G tonight. Will report ASAP.” But if the first message was to his boss, who was this one to? “Jam” wasn’t on his phone list either. Some people had two bosses. But if he did, why would he be covertly communicating with one? Was he selling secrets? For all he knew, he had a lover and someone was blackmailing him. “S and G” meant nothing to him.

  He cut off the speculations. He needed more hard information, and he would be better off going and getting it. Leaning forward in his chair, he pushed the off button and slid the keyboard back into the desk. He would have to move fast to get to Tinsdale Park by 21:00.

  “Vincent, it’s time I went to the Vittoria. Can you point me in the right direction as we go?”

  “Does Daedalus spin?”

  As the tube sped up the hill, Cal brought Vincent up to date.

  Gravity slowly departing was the obvious signal that they were nearing the endcap of Daedalus, but Cal also felt a lateral force push him against the seat back as the vehicle lost angular momentum. The tube slowed to a complete halt. Only the seat belt held Cal in place.

  He floated into the tunnel, his hands on a grip, his feet ever so slightly drifting to rest against the floor. Through a window in the ceiling, he could see other spokes join a smaller disk at the center of Daedalus’s rotational axis. The wide tubeways narrowed to smaller tunnels like the one he was in. A ring connected the tubeways so passengers could move from one to another.

  He had been mistakenly expecting all the tunnels to merge into one main one, but instead his tunnel just curved so that it was aligned with D
aedalus’s axis, and the walls turned transparent. The junction between Daedalus and the adjacent industrial disk resembled a group of dozens of clear straws all parallel to one another, with one larger straw right in the center. A few people moved through the other tunnels.

  Across the junction, the tunnel walls were opaque again, and the tunnel curved into a circular room with two low-gravity poles. Cal moved to the one labeled down and gently fell perhaps twenty meters, landing easily on the floor.

  The floor was a strip about twenty meters wide, curving upward and out of sight on both ends. Elevators stood at intervals in the wall.

  Cal bounced lightly as he entered the nearest elevator. His head bumped the padded ceiling just as the box began to drop to the outermost floor, because he forgot to use the handholds. He tried to think of what might have happened to Domingo at C5. He was tempted to go there, but the police might still be there.

  The floor of the outermost level sloped upward much less noticeably. Immediately to his left, a sign said Shuttle and an arrow pointed to a circular opening in the floor. More signs were visible in the distance.

  A ladder led downward through a heavy airlock door, and the passageway widened into an area large enough for maybe twenty people to stand comfortably.

  Inside the shuttle there was little more than chairs and two large shuttered windows. At one end, a large Danger sign warned about an emergency exit. A flight suit locker stood next to the door. Cal sat. On the armrest were two switches. He set one to Vittoria, and the other to open shutters.

  Cal shielded his eyes against the glare and sucked in his breath at the view. Daedalus’s outside cylinder wall extended overhead. The sun shone incredibly brightly below. Stretched away from Daedalus’s body were two enormous mirrors. He moved his head to see out the window at an angle, and Icarus sailed into view, moving rapidly in a giant arc, followed by the Earth. A moment later Vittoria came into view.

  A flicker of motion caught his eye, and he turned to look out the window behind him. Fleeting images of antennae and awkward shapes whirled by the window far too fast for him to distinguish. He was looking at the disk next to the one he was on, but it took a moment more before he remembered that he was moving. The other disk was stationary, for zero-gravity work. Beyond the disk lay the enormous curved mirror that drove the power plant.