Stolen Memories (Book 3 of the Magical Machine series)
The Fog of Indecision

Patrick is sitting to my right on the shuttle. He’s staring out the window with a slight frown on his face. He seems to be focusing hard on the scenery of the city passing by, as if trying to memorize it. Maybe I shouldn’t have stolen his memory.

I don’t know what I am going to do. I thought about just stealing everyone’s memory and taking over, but that would be too suspicious, and I don’t really know what I am doing. I need the help of some of the people to make things happen. I need the people working in the government offices to believe that the “memory virus” is real. I need them to believe in me.

What I also need is a position. It seems like the governor is the top thing around, so my thought is that I should try and take that position, but apparently people vote for the position. I’m not even quite sure how to run for the position.

The one thing I do know is that the position has to be open for me to run for it. I should have asked Patrick more questions about the city government and how the politics worked before implementing my insane plan. It’s too late to turn back now.

I also need to tell Patrick something. I need to give him something to make him less suspicious. Maybe something close to the truth.

“I think you’ve already guessed that something is weird about this situation.”

Patrick turns away from the window and stares at me. “Yes. Even with my limited understanding of the world, my brain tells me you are lying about what is going on.”

“I’ve been too scared to tell you the truth, and there hasn’t been a good time.”

“Well, tell it to me now.” He snaps.

I gulp. I hadn’t expected him to be this angry. “You – you came up with a plan, a plan to make the lives of the lowest class of the city better. You found me. I escaped from jail using these strange powers I have, and then I was using them to steal food, and you found me. Learning about my powers gave you a plan. You told me the plan, and as part of that plan you ordered me to take your memories, your father’s memories, and your wife’s memories.”

“What?!”

Wush. The shuttle door slide open showing the city council balcony and ending my chance to try and explain things better to Patrick.. A guard steps forward, “You are not scheduled to be here. What business do you have with the city council?”

“Please, you have to let me in. This is Patrick McNeil, we have news of his father. It’s quite urgent.”

“You should have scheduled an appointment. Also, the City Council does not care about Raymond McNeil, seeing as he is in the Virginia House of Delegates and not the City Council.”

“Please, this isn’t just about him, it’s about this city. He’s been hit with the memory sickness, as has this man beside me. Before now it’s just been a strange rumor in the streets, but now…”

The guard glares at Patrick. “Is this true Patrick? Are you going to continue letting this insane woman speak for you?”

Patrick shrugs, “I don’t really know. She seems to have more of an idea of what is going on than I do. This morning I woke up next to a strange woman, who I was informed was my wife. I’ve been told my name is Patrick, and that this woman is named Hope. Hope has told me that she wants to inform all parts of government centered in this city about this strange disease, and I was brought along as proof. Does this satisfy your curiosity?”

He didn’t ruin everything. Even after what I just told him, he is following me. Well at least for right now.

The guard nods. “It seems strange that you’re so calm about your supposed lack of memory though.”

“I panicked earlier, when I woke up in a bed that seemed familiar, but I couldn’t remember it next to a strange woman. Now I’m just trying to get my bearings. I guess, now I’m just confused. It’s a lot to take in all at once.” Patrick glances at me as he says this. “I don’t really know what to think, but this woman who apparently knows me seems to know something about what is going on. She said she heard rumors in the streets of the city about a memory sickness that stole people’s memory.”

The guard stares at me, eyes narrowed. “A memory sickness? That’s impossible.”

“That’s what I thought. That’s why I said nothing until now. How else do you explain three people in the same family losing their memory at the same time? And maybe it even explains my own memory loss.”

I stop, starring down at my hands as if I didn’t mean to say that.

Both of them are staring at me.

“What do you mean?” Patrick asks. I can see he is uncomfortable with this sudden revelation.

“I never told you, or anyone. I thought it was too strange. I heard stories about the memory sickness, but I chalked it up to rumor and blamed my own memory loss on trauma. I only have memories up to a couple months ago. I didn’t want anyone to know. I pretended and went along with things to make people think that I was normal. In fact, supposedly I had a different name before my memory loss. The people I was with at the time didn’t know about my real name though, and gave me the name I use now, which I feel more comfortable going by.” I need to seem like I am a victim of this disease already so nobody wonders why I’m not getting it.

Patrick’s gaze lingers on me for a moment, studying me, before turning back toward the guard.

The guard hesitantly steps to the side. “I guess this does sound like something you’d come barging in for without a scheduled meeting. Once you are inside, wait near the entrance. I’ll call up one of the other guys to escort you in so that you can get in to see the city council quicker.”

“Thank you so much.” I smile at him and wipe away the water leaking from the bottom of my eyes. It must be the dry air making me tear up.

“Thanks,” Patrick gruffly says before leading the way inside the door.

We stand in silence inside the door. I feel like I should say something, but I don’t know what to say, so I just lean on the wall, letting the uncomfortable silence fester.

We aren’t waiting long before a young guard, probably closer to our age than the first guard, runs up.

“Hi, I’m Reno. Max ordered me to come escort you to the city council. He said it was mighty important and I was not to let anyone hold you up.”

“Thank you Reno. Please lead the way.” My voice is like ice cream, sweet, smooth, and yet cold. Seeming to care, and yet impartial. A politician’s voice.

The gray haired secretary at the door to the council chamber stops us. “You cannot enter with an appointment.”

Reno glares at her, “Amelia, Max deemed these people’s message important enough to interrupt a council meeting.”

Amelia gives a shake of her head. “Max doesn’t get to decide that. Only I get to decide that.”

“Amelia, Max charged me with getting these people in that chamber fast. If you don’t move and let us through, I will pick you up and move you out of the way.”

She continues to stand there, guarding her door. “I will not have anyone say I neglected my duty. I will stand here until you forcibly remove me Reno.”

Reno says nothing else, but picks her up and swings her over his shoulder eliciting a shriek of surprise from her, and then setting her down next to the door.

Reno motions us forward with hand, the other holding the struggling old lady from going back to her post. “Go ahead. I’ve cleared the way now.”

“Thanks Reno,” I say as I pull open the large wooden doors.

The council stops talking staring at us.

“You’re not on our agenda.” One man says.

Another squints at me before saying, “We saw you yesterday and denied you program.”

Should I show off my power or just frighten these old men with words?

Patrick steps forward, “I don’t know what happened yesterday, but she came her to warn you of strange disease, dragging me along as proof.”

“I’d heard rumors on the streets of a disease that steals the memories of people. I didn’t believe these rumors until this morning Melanie, our house servant, woke me up to let me know that Patrick, his father, and his wife seemed to be missing all of their memories.”

BANG. I look around for where the loud noise came from, and see one of the men standing up, his fist on the desk in front of him. “Are you this desperate that you will make up such obvious lies to try and get our attention? If this man is sick you shouldn’t have brought him here. Go seek your attention elsewhere!”

“She does not lie.” Patrick’s voice is quiet, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“As if I’d believe you!” The man shouts. “That woman’s been following you around like a puppy for a while now. You obviously have some ulterior motive.”

Rossette, the woman who supported me the day before stands up. “I believe her. If nothing else we should put funding and research into studying the sudden loss of memory in our citizens.”

Many of the city council members nod their heads as she sits down. A bald man stands up. “It is especially worrisome to me the whole McNeil family has lost their memories. I think we will need more funding than what is in the city budget. We should send a message to the state House of Delegates for an emergency session, and we should send the girl with a message from us to the Governor.”

A few people nod in agreement. The bald man sits down, and the man who’d shouted early is even nodding. “Yes, let’s see what this whole thing is about. Let the state pay to investigate it, not our city. My only fear is that these two are lying, so I would like to put the stipulation that if they are found to be lying after some research, they will both go to jail.”

Patrick looks like he wants to say something, so interrupt before he can, “I agree. I am not lying so such a stipulation does not bother me. Send me to the governor. Let me explain what has happened, beg for research funding. But also, please, watch yourselves. I am afraid that this will spread, and more people will fall ill with it.”

I reach out to the still standing man with my transparent hands that I have used in so long, and gently touch a couple memories, stealing bits and pieces from his life. Not enough to be suspicious or seem like too sudden of a memory loss, but enough to plant seeds of doubt. I memorize his features. Thinning gray hair mixed with a few strands of brown like streaks of dirt on a rock. Small little brown eyes like a pig set in a large rotund face. His belly, bulging far out in front of him and thick hands set on the desk. He sits, thumping back into his chair. In his memories I hear his mother calling him, “James! I just got a call from the school…” The piece of a memory floats away. I don’t know his last name, but James will slowly loose his memory as an example for trying to get in my way.

Rossette motions toward the door. “Please wait outside while we draft a letter for the governor. We will send for you as soon as we are ready.”

Patrick and I exit the room and replace Reno and Amelia waiting outside the door.

“So, how’d it go?” Reno asks.

“They are drafting letters to send to the House of Delegates and to the Governor. Patrick and I will take the letter to the governor.”

“I’m glad they listened. This whole memory thing sounds freaky, almost like something from a supernatural story or something. When they give you letter, I’ll take you to see the Governor.”

“Thank you Reno. That would be a big help.” I smile at him. He seems like a good person, and I think he could be useful to my side.

We wait there in silence, each of us thinking our own thoughts until the large doors open and Rossette walks through, a white envelope in her hand. “Takes this to the Governor and explain the situation to him.”

I reach to take the envelope, but she holds onto it, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t know the Governors name do you?” She asks, and then shakes her head. “Of course you don’t. His name is Simon Garth. Have this guard take you there. He should know the way.”

She releases the envelope into my grip.

“Thank you Rossette for your help.”

She nods, and I turn and leave following Reno. He leads us to a door that slides open to reveal a small room. I have no idea why we are standing in this strange small room that feels like the floor is pulling up on my feet, but I do not want to admit my ignorance. Instead I search through my banks of memories until I replace an explanation. This small room is called an elevator, and it is taking us higher up in the tower.

The door opens again, this time to a different hallway. The memories must be correct that the room was an elevator.

Reno leads us down the hall to a large door with a sign on it that says Simon Garth.

Reno knocks, “Sir, I have visitors sent by the city council to see you.”

The door open up into a large office room with a large golden wood colored desk with the back of a black leather chair peeking out from behind the wood.

The man holding the door looks tired and worn. Wrinkles line his face, and his gray hair is pulled in a comb over across the balding patch in the middle of his head. He smiles at me, but this only seems to accentuate the dark pits under his eyes.

From my understanding, this man is the one I need to take out to take over the city. I need to take his place in a way that doesn’t seem suspicious. The memory disease hitting right when I arrive would make people suspect me. No, I need something else, something common. I remember the guards I took out at my cell by squeezing their hearts. That would be wrong. This man has done nothing wrong. Except he has ignored the plight of the people. He let children suffer on the streets while he turned a blind eye. I have to remember my goal. I have to fight for the people of the city.

I hand him the envelope with the letter. “People are mysteriously losing their memories. I didn’t think it was much of anything until this morning Raymond McNeil, Patrick McNeil, and Azalea McNeil woke up not knowing who they were or where they were. The term on the streets for this is the memory sickness.”

He blinks, looks down at the envelope in his hands and then back at me.

“The City Council sent you?”

“Yes.” Reno already said this. The man needs to listen better.

“And this letter explains everything?”

“It should. I can answer any questions you have after reading it.”

He nods, and slowly rips open the envelope and unfolds the letter.

I can’t kill this old man. I have to. I have to for all the people he has let die. I will kill him, and then I will have Patrick help me run for the office. I will take over the city and I will change it.

I reach out with my hardened resolve and clutch his tired heart stopping it. Holding it as it struggles to beat in his chest. Holding it until it gives up and just stops.

There is no turning back now.

The letter slips from Simon’s grasp and flutters down to the ground like a feather.

Simon grasps his left shoulder.

His knees buckle.

Reno shouts something, and I lunge forward, catching the old man. He gasps, his breathing raspy desperate. Reno lays the governor on the floor. He’s trying to tell me something, but I can’t hear him. The world is buzzing in my ears. He puts his fingers on the Governor’s neck, and then starts pushing on his chest.

He yells at me again in that static white noise. He puts my hands where his hands had been on the man’s chest, and starts pushing on the chest in the rhythm of a heart. I keep going, after he lifts his hand of mine. I have no idea what I am doing. I killed this man.

Other people run into the room. Someone pulls me away, and I stare at my hands. The hands that held him. The hand that killed him.

Someone holds me close, and I don’t fight, I simply let the warmth envelope me. I imagine that his person is Nathan. He is comforting me. Nathan telling me to do what feels right. This doesn’t feel right. I shouldn’t have done this.

I look back at the Governor, and see his body being carried out on a straight board. I have to use his death now. I have to make his sacrifice a worthy one.

I pull away from the person holding me and wipe away the tear trails on my face. Patrick is standing in front of me.

“I’m sorry. I was just a little shocked.”

He nods. “I didn’t know what to do. I saw him collapse, I knew I should do something, but I couldn’t remember anything. I stood here uselessly watching as you and Reno…”

He pauses, as if searching for the words, and then shrugs, “I watched while you did whatever it was that you did.”

“I don’t think that what we did mattered in the end.”

What matters is making sure that I keep moving forward. I cannot give up now. I’ve taken too many lives to stop now. I have to make this city a better place. After that, well, after that it doesn’t really matter what happens to me.

Author Note:

Link to book 4, “Destruction of Memory”, here: https://www.Narugi.com/stories/scifi/438581

I will also put a link in the comments.