Unremembered (25 page)

‘What does that mean?’ I ask suspiciously, straining to see what she’s holding in her hand.

‘It means, when you don’t want to be found, you better not leave behind any trails.’

She moves so swiftly I barely have time to process what’s happening. She turns around in her seat, lunging towards Cody. The concealed hand lashes out, touching the side of Cody’s
head.

I watch in horror as Cody’s body slumps. The seat belt continues to hold him upright but his eyes close and his head droops forward. As if he simply fell asleep.

Or someone
put
him to sleep.

By the time I make the connection, it’s too late.

Dr Maxxer has already turned the Modifier on me. And I’m conscious only long enough to see the familiar device in her hand moving towards my neck. It makes contact directly under my jaw. I
hear a faint sizzling sound and before I even have time to scream everything around me fades to black.

The air outside is warm and dry. The sun has almost disappeared over the wall. I lie on the small patch of grass in front of my house, with my head in Zen’s lap. He
strokes my hair. Beginning at the roots and gently weaving his fingers down to the tips before starting over again.

‘One more time,’ I say.

He stops to tickle behind my ears, his voice taking on a playful annoyance. ‘Again? But you must have it memorized by now.’

‘Of course I have it memorized,’ I tell him. ‘I’ve had it memorized since the first time you read it. But it sounds so much better when you say it.’

He laughs, removing his hand from my head. He picks up the tattered hardback book lying on the grass next to him and opens it to the earmarked page.

I reach up and affectionately touch the spine, loving the way the soft, aged cloth feels against my skin.

‘Where did you get this?’ I ask.

He peers down at me. ‘From the Diotech historical archives,’ he says tenderly. ‘Is this the first time you’ve seen a real book?’

I shake my head. ‘Rio collects them.’

I can feel the perceptible shift in Zen’s energy at the mention of his name. His face hardens and his smile vanishes. I change the subject quickly, before his reaction has a chance to
stick.

‘So are you going to read it or not?’ I tease. ‘Because I don’t have all day, you know.’

He chuckles, taps my nose with his finger and focuses back on the book. Then he clears his throat and starts to read in a silly pompous accent. ‘“Let me not to the marriage of
true minds admit impediments.”’

I reach up and swat his arm. ‘No! Not like that.’

He smiles down at me, our eyes connecting for a brief but intense moment. Then he returns to his coy, playful self. ‘What? You don’t like my British accent? I’m just trying
to give you a real authentic experience. Shakespeare
was
British, you know, so that’s probably how it sounded in his own head.’

I swat at him again, unable to control my giggles. ‘No,’ I insist. ‘Read it
your
way.’

His expression turns serious as his gaze returns to the book. ‘OK,’ he concedes.

There’s a brief pause, and the anticipation of hearing the words on his lips is almost too much to handle. I feel flutters in my stomach. A longing on my lips. My breath becomes
shallow.

When he finally speaks, his voice is soft and focused and powerful.

It sets the world around us on fire. Everything is ablaze. Nothing is safe. I listen to the entire poem in a state of expectation. That any minute, I might go up in flames too.

When he finishes I close my eyes and bask in the warmth of his voice and Shakespeare’s lyrics, wishing that it would never end. That it would always stay this
warm.

But I know that is impossible.

Because soon he will leave. Like he does every day. And I will be cold again.

‘Shakespeare couldn’t have written that poem today,’ I resolve after a moment of mutual silence.

Zen has put down the book and resumed stroking my hair. ‘Why not?’

‘Because love like that can’t exist today.’ The sad reality of that truth scoops out a large chunk of me and leaves me feeling hollow.

‘That’s not true.’ Zen bends down and kisses my forehead. ‘What about us?’ he whispers in my ear. ‘You are my ever-fixèd mark. Just like in the
poem.’

I feel the tears glistening in my eyes as I hold my wrist in front of my face and trace the thin black line with my fingertip. ‘We will always be kept apart. As long as we’re
here, we can never be together. They’ll never let us.’

I gaze up into Zen’s eyes and I can see the sorrow that shadows them. Like a cloud. He knows I’m right. Even if he refuses to admit it.

I push myself up to my knees and face him. ‘Shakespeare was lucky,’ I go on. ‘He was born in a time before computers and brain scans and DNA sequencers. Love could survive
because technology wasn’t around to destroy it. Science wasn’t powerful enough to ruin people’s lives.’

Zen doesn’t agree with me, but he doesn’t argue with me either. He stays very silent. Pensive. His eyes fixed on something far in the distance.

‘That’s the only place we can be together,’ I say, reaching out and resting my palm against his cheek.

He blinks, as if breaking from a trance and refocuses on me. ‘Where?’

I smile. ‘1609.’

I expect him to laugh. I wait for it. Because I know the notion is ludicrous. A fantasy. The kind of adventure you only read about in books.

But he doesn’t laugh.

His eyes glaze over again and he continues staring out at that far-off point in the distance.

‘Zen?’ I turn his head back to me.

‘Hmmm?’ he replies distractedly.

I lean forward and press my lips against his. He kisses me back, reaching up to hold my face between his hands and then wrapping them around the back of my head and pulling me
closer.

His kiss is delicious.

Just as it always is.

But something is different this time. I can sense it.

His mind is elsewhere. His thoughts are far away. And I don’t know why.

When the kiss is over, Zen rises to his feet and then offers his hand to help me up.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask.

‘I-I-I . . .’ he stammers. ‘I need to go.’

‘But it’s not time yet,’ I insist. ‘We still have another thirty minutes before Rio comes home.’

Zen struggles visibly, torn between the idea of staying and whatever else is competing for his attention. ‘I know. But there’s something I have to do.’

I bite my lip. ‘OK,’ I say softly.

He studies my expression and smiles, wrapping his arms around me and drawing me into him. ‘Don’t worry,’ he tells me. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’

Then he pulls me close and whispers in my ear, ‘Close your eyes.’

I do. But not willingly. Because I know what it means. It means he’s leaving me and the bitter cold is near.

But I also know it’s better than the alternative: watching him go.

His lips brush delicately against mine and then I hear the all-too-familiar heart-wrenching sound of his footsteps retreating, the scraping of his shoes against the concrete as he hoists
himself to the top of the wall and the soft thump of his feet as he lands on the other side.

I wait, shivering slightly as I count slowly to fifty like I always do.

It’s just enough time for the sound of his footsteps to completely disappear. A calculation I once had to make and have despised ever since.

48 . . . 49 . . . 50.

When I open my eyes, my ever-fixèd mark has vanished.

I wake up to the feeling of the cold hard ground beneath me.

The room is small and dark. There are no windows and no doors. A single lamp illuminates the tiny space. It takes me a moment to realize that I’m lying on a cement floor. I turn my head to
the left and see Cody lying beside me, still unconscious.

What happened?

I try to remember how I got here. Or even where
here
is.

I remember getting into the car with a woman who claimed to be Maxxer. She said she didn’t think we were being followed but that you can never be too careful. We stopped at a red light,
and before I could react she turned and deactivated both of us.

Then I was . . .

Where was I?

I seem to remember being with Zen. Yes, we were back on the Diotech compound. We were reading poetry on my front lawn. Sonnet 116. My favourite poem. Everything was wonderful. Then he started
acting very strange and he left.

But wait. Did that really happen?

It couldn’t have happened. Zen was captured. I saw it.

Unless . . . I sweep my eyes around the room again. Unless I’m
on
the Diotech compound now.

But that doesn’t make sense. Why would Maxxer bring us there? In the car, it seemed like she was
afraid
of Diotech.

The floor trembles and I glance upward to see two feet stalking towards me. From this strange angle, I can only barely make out her features although I’m fairly certain it’s the
woman from the car.

‘You’re awake,’ she says.

I push myself to a seated position and rub my eyes. ‘Where are we?’ I ask groggily.

‘My storage unit.’

I glance around the small, dank space. There’s nothing in it except the lamp, a mattress that appears to be filled with air, a shabby metal table and one metal chair behind it. On the
table is a collection of mostly unfamiliar devices. The only one among them that I recognize is a laptop.

‘You live in here?’

‘Temporarily, yes,’ she says. ‘I tend to move around a lot. Storage units are easiest. You can rent month to month and there are no nosy neighbours.’

‘Why did you deactivate us?’ I ask.

‘I had to make sure you had no memories of where this place was. Nothing for Diotech to steal later. It’s safer that way.’

‘When will he wake up?’ I nod to Cody.

‘In a few minutes,’ Dr Maxxer replies. ‘His brain chemistry is slightly different than yours. It will take a bit longer for the effect of the Modifier to wear off.’

I rub the back of my head, which is somewhat sore from lying on the cold concrete floor. And that’s when I feel the small rubber disc at the base of my neck. My hand darts to my left ear
and then my right. The cognitive receptors. I never took them off.

‘What else did you do to me?’ I ask frantically, standing now and looking around.

‘Just returned what was rightfully yours.’ She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small silver cube. I immediately recognize it as the hard drive Zen used to store my stolen
memories. It’s glowing green again.

I gasp and take a step towards her. ‘How did you get that?’

She looks at it and then back at me. ‘I found it when I searched you.’

‘Me?’ I ask in surprise.

She nods. ‘It was in your pocket.’

I shake my head. ‘But that’s impossible. The last time I saw it, Zen was putting it in his
own
pocket. Right before I fell asleep. Then those men showed up at the gas
station and they took him and I never saw it again.’

Maxxer raises her eyebrows tauntingly at me. ‘Maybe you should take another look at that gas station.’

I hastily play back the scene in my mind. Moment by moment.

Zen told me to stay in the car while he paid for the gas. Then the girl with the cellphone took my photograph. A second later the men appeared. I ran to Zen but he pushed me away. He placed his
hand on my hip and told me to get as far from there as possible.

On my hip
.

I reexamine the action more closely and, suddenly, now I can feel him slip something into my pocket before he shoves me away. I didn’t even notice it at the time because I was so
distracted by everything that was happening around us.

But Zen was clearheaded enough to make sure I had the drive before I left.

He wanted me to have access to the rest of the memories.

He wanted me to have the final pieces of the story.

And most of all, he wanted to make sure Diotech didn’t.

‘You,’ I say with sudden realization, blinking at Maxxer. ‘It was
you
who triggered that memory? The one about the poem?’

‘Actually,’ she replies, ‘I didn’t have to. You triggered it yourself. I just turned on the drive.’

I blink. ‘How did I do that?’

She shrugs. ‘You must have been thinking about Zen when you were unconscious. Clearly that was enough.’

I can’t help but smile at this.

‘It should make my explanation a bit easier though,’ Maxxer says.

‘What explanation?’

‘The one you’re about to ask of me.’

I stare at her in astonishment. ‘How do you know what I’m about to ask you.’