Deserted (21 page)

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Authors: L.M. McCleary

BOOK: Deserted
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Krastanov
then pointed to a slot near the top of the
machine. “I put an empty vial here and the machine fills it up. Then I escort
the client to a recovery room for a few weeks, as you can get a bit dizzy
afterwards and the process is susceptible to early rectification if exposed to
familiar sights and sounds.”

           
“Recovery?”
I asked.
“A few weeks
recovery for a slight dizzy spell?
I thought you said it was painless?
Just what exactly are we recovering from?” I wasn’t sure I trusted his words;
he seemed far too friendly for a mad scientist.

           
“Well, the process takes time to cement itself. Any familiar item shortly after
the procedure can bring all those memories back and make the process moot; I
assume that’s what happened with you. I try very hard to make the rooms as
generic as possible but I suppose no one is perfect.”
Krastanov
shrugged and started to fiddle with the height of the chair. “Well, come on
over and we can restart the process; I’ll double-check the rooms before I
escort you out this time.”

           
I gasped.
“Why would I want to do that?!”

           
The scientist furrowed his brow. “Well…because you wanted me to?” He frowned.
“You asked me to do this when you arrived.”

           
“Asked for it?!” I yelled, clenching my fists. “I would never ask for such a
thing.”

           
He tittered. “I guess you don’t remember
everything
then, huh?” He waved
me over as he walked towards the wall on our right. “Not to worry; I have your
vial right here.”
Krastanov
pointed to a green bottle
that swirled violently on the second shelf from the floor. “That one; it should
have your name on it.”

           
I was hesitant to follow, afraid to take my eyes off of him. Glancing down
quickly, however, I noticed golden letters that spelled my name atop the
container of swirling green. I was hit hard with a sudden flashback – my
mother!
This
is what she had! My heart raced when I noticed the empty
spot beside my Memory Vial; could that have been Samantha’s? There were
multiple bottles around this space and while they were much calmer in their
viscosity, it was their names that drew me away from my confusing thoughts. I
saw the two that interested me: Kay
Thomes
and
Chester
Morgansen
. Dr.
Krastanov
caught me looking at them, although not for the reasons he might have imagined.

           
“It’s all history,” he said with a proud air, “I keep everyone’s memories here;
you never know when they might come in handy. There are quite a few interesting
figures stored about.” I bent down and cradled my own vial in my hands,
glancing at the others as I tried to plan my next move. “Hold it firmly, my
dear, and you’ll see everything I removed.” He put his hands below mine and
adjusted the vial to sit more comfortably in my palms. “Now, you won’t be able
to get them back in your head this way but you can watch what you once knew.
Look…” he motioned to the bottle as the green liquid inside shifted and started
to form the figures of the two men that were constantly on my mind. “Think of
what I told you; about coming here. Your vial will show it if it is something
that actually happened. Listen closely and you’ll know.”

           
I shut my eyes and forced the men from my thoughts, focusing instead on Dr.
Krastanov’s
words. When I opened my eyes once again the
metallic hallways of the Facility had materialized in the liquid before me. I
saw myself in the swirling mist, walking on the grated landing with
Tsvetan
as we made our way towards the lone doorway. This
time it was locked, however, but Dr.
Krastanov
pushed
a small button hidden in the wall beside the door and it opened in seconds,
jarring slightly as the door became stuck at the last moment.

“It does
that sometimes,” The
Tsvetan
in the bottle had said
to me.
“Nothing to worry about though.”
That same,
toothy grin as we walked upwards in silence. I saw myself hesitate when the
large chair came into view, clutching the bottom of my shirt and swallowing
hard.

           
“I didn’t lie, my dear; it doesn’t hurt. Come,” Dr.
Krastanov
had walked over to the chair and reduced its height for me, watching me with
his bright eyes and beckoning me towards him. The vial’s vision of me had
looked around the room momentarily before making my way to the scientist but I
had stared at the chair before me, tugging at my belt and wringing my hands.
Tsvetan
had laid
a hand upon my back and whispered softly to me; so softly that I could not hear
his words through the vial.

“I had
said that it would be a simple procedure,” the real Dr.
Krastanov
answered, “but that you could back out at any time if you weren’t comfortable
with it.” I scrutinized his face as he spoke, unsure if he was really telling
me the truth.

Turning
my attention back to the vial I saw that I was now on the chair, my legs shaking
ever so slightly as I continued to ball up my fists and twitch my fingers
nervously. Dr.
Krastanov
positioned the machine above
me and then asked, “Now, are you sure? You cannot get these memories back. Are
you ready to forget your past and forge a new future?”

           
My figure in the mist nodded at him from its spot on the chair. “My life would
be better if I forget all this heartache.” I murmured the words, the sadness in
my voice palpable.

           
Dr.
Krastanov
nodded. “I’ll take good care of you,
sweetheart; don’t you worry. Everyone who stumbles upon my lab decides the same
thing you do; that forgetting is better.” The scientist booted up the machine
and it hummed loudly, vibrating the chair ever so slightly as my body rocked
with its movement. “The wasteland has taken much from us…but it won’t take
everything.” The image of me in the vial nodded and swallowed hard as
Tsvetan
started to lower the machine. I turned my gaze away
and I put the vial back, not wanting to see any more.

           
“You see?” Dr.
Krastanov
said gently. “I know there
are rumours that I force this upon people but I don’t; I provide a service for
injured hearts and broken spirits. People do not have to participate if they
don’t want to and you asked me to help…so I did.” He placed a comforting arm
around my shoulder. “This must be a lot to take in, hmm? I will give you all
the time you need; continue to watch your vial if you feel you need to and if
you would like to redo the process then just let me know. I’m here to help in
any way I can; just let me know what you decide.” He patted me on the shoulder
and slowly wandered back to the chair, snapping his gloves on and preparing to
clean once again.

           
I stood in stupefied silence for a while before finally blurting, “What
happened to you,
Tsvetan
?”

           
He stiffened. “How do you know my name?”

           
“Multiple ways.”
I fingered a few of the vials, their
touch surprisingly warm but their liquid remained still inside. “I found a book
of yours in the desert, for starters.”

           
“Of mine?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “What kind of
book?”

           
“Biology, I think. There were many pictures of the brain but I don’t know the
language.”

           
“Ah, that must have been my Latin textbook on mental health; I wondered where
it went. I was studying it, you see.”

           
Something just didn’t add up to me. “Studying it? Why would you be studying
mental health if you do this from the goodness of your heart? That sort of
seems like a weird thing to decide to pick up one day.”

           
Tsvetan
grew quiet. “I didn’t decide this.”

           
“I know.” I replied. “You were forced to study what your dead comrades could no
longer contribute, weren’t you?”

           
The shock on his face was empowering. “How do you know that? Do you work for
the Elders, too?”
Tsvetan
suddenly grew agitated.
“They never tell me anything, ugh. Are you a messenger for them?
A delivery girl?
What, they think I can’t handle a few
deliveries on my own?”

           
“Deliveries?”

           
“Of the vials, you git!”

           
I couldn’t help but smile at his sudden influx of information. “If I wanted to
deliver these vials, why would I come to you to erase my memories?”

           
He lost himself in thought for a moment. “You clearly don’t work for them,
then, or you wouldn’t feel the need to ask that question. I wouldn’t have been
surprised.” He sighed. “But that means I’ve said far more than I should have.
Keep the book; I don’t need it anymore.”

           
“You can’t take back that video, though,
Tsvetan
.”

           
He scowled. “So you found the lab, then.”

           
I nodded. “Just what exactly happened out there? Strange people were living all
around the place.”

           
“Of course they were. Why do you think I left?” He scoffed. “I made a break for
it, running wild into the desert. I was eventually found by…people. People you
don’t need to concern yourself with.”

           
“Those
Elders
you keep talking about?” I started to pace.

           
“People you don’t need to concern yourself with.”

           
“So what happened to your flowers then,
Tsvetan
? I
thought you were a botanist? Had a change of heart, did we? Or do you always
just do as you’re told?” I sneered at him.

           
I was surprised by the sadness that seemed to encapsulate his face. I was
expecting anger – or another bout of stupidity – but not sadness.

           
“I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t very well scavenge for them while those
things
were running around. Besides, by that point I’m sure they were all dead.”

           
“So why take up this, then?” I gestured around me. “Why not continue with what
you know? You could save the world!” I jeered my last remark at him.

           
He laughed. “Continue botany?
In a deserted wasteland?
Come, now; I expected more from you.”
Tsvetan
absently picked at invisible specks on his chair before continuing. “I knew it
was over. The Reckoning had begun, and my line of work was no longer relevant.
I did what was asked of me because, really, what else could I do?” He sighed
deeply. “It’s unfortunate, sure – I’d love to be with my plants again – but I’d
need another specimen to cultivate before I’d be able to transplant anything.
And even then, I’d need a strong enough specimen to do so; you can’t magically
make things grow in unfertile soil.” He shrugged with little enthusiasm. “What
can you do…

           
I had stopped pacing the room as I digested his words. “You can do plenty.”

           
He eyed me dubiously. “I would need a sample in order to do much of anything
and again…there is no plant life in the desert.” He reiterated his words in a
drawn out manner as though I was too slow to grasp it the first time around.

           
I gave him a scornful smile. “There is a flower in the wasteland.”

           
Tsvetan
rolled his eyes at me. “I’m sure there is.”

           
“Have you been out there? Have you fought for life and limb while adventuring
through the desert? Huh, I thought not. Don’t tell me what is and isn’t in the
wasteland, buddy; I’ve been there.”

           
“Doesn’t matter if I have; the Pirates would have informed us.” Dr.
Krastanov
put down his cleaning supplies and studied me.

Pirates?

“Are you
sure it was actually growing and not just…stuck somewhere?” He spoke in an
annoyed tone, but I could see the glint of hopefulness on his face.

           
“Oh it was growing alright; its stem wove deep into the earth and it felt
sturdy in my hands. Even in the shelter of a cliff the wind still blew harshly
and the flower merely billowed in its onslaught. It’s a very resilient flower.”

           
“Resilient…”
Tsvetan
suddenly turned his back to me
as he rubbed his chin. He stared with hard determination at the floor before
him and I took this opportunity to inch my way back towards the vials I wanted.
“Could it be…could its roots have burrowed so deep into the ground that it
bypassed the Essence of Life entirely?”

           
I stopped in my tracks. “And that’s another thing. What’s up with this
Essence
of Life
stuff? What is that?”

           
“It’s nothing to do with you, is what it is.” He waved me off as he continued
to lose himself in thoughts.

           
I raised my eyebrow at him. “Look, if you’re going to just erase my memories
anyway…” I gestured to his chair, “then why not just tell me?”

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