<<<Chapter 1
The confusion of old and new memories affected Lola more than her
recently assigned status as a fugitive.
Trying to remember what had really happened to her versus what had
been planted in her mind prohibited her ability to think clearly. Hadn’t she
grown up here on Urial and put her career before any chance of a family? But
she also remembered growing up on Triwal, getting married just out of school
and having a son. Both felt real. Both felt right. Both tried to tell her they
were her real memories.
Lola shoved them back in her brain, not letting herself think of
the truth, or what could be the truth. Instead, she focused on running, because
that’s the only thing she could do to stay safe. If she stopped, if the PROBers
found her, both sets of memories would disappear and they would give her a
brand new set which would feel just as real and she would never know the difference.
So she kept moving.
Ever since Stela first awakened her from Pigrann she had been
running.
That was two days ago.
Sleep had become difficult and precious. Lola couldn’t let herself
close her eyes until she found a place safe enough from the PROBers for a few
hours. Even then, her sleep remained short and restless. Either the fear of PROBers catching her kept
her from truly sleeping, or the images of a forgotten son flooded her mind as
she dreamed. She remembered being pregnant with him and holding him in her arms
as a baby. She remembered his first word, his first step, his first birthday.
She remembered how much she loved him. She yearned to be with him, to see him
and to hold him in her arms. This memory had to be real.
If only she could remember his name.
On Lola’s third day of running, after attempting to sleep in a
hidden corner in an empty alley, she opened her eyes, reluctant to continue.
She had no plans, no idea what she was doing or where she was heading. She
didn’t even know if Stela had escaped from the PROBers, if she had been
captured or killed or worse, put through Pigrann.
She had to keep going. She stood up, brushed and straightened her
clothes and hoped to blend in. As long as she looked like she belonged, no one
would suspect her or run her DNA. If they did, then she would truly have to
run.
Lola walked through the crowds, surrounded by hundreds of
thousands of people from all areas of the colonies, living and working on the
little industrial planet of Urial. They lived their lives just as she had. Sleep, work, eat and repeat. Maybe living in
ignorance about Pigrann was better than having your mind attacking itself over
memories that may or may not be real.
Is this something they would want? Would
they prefer to know the truth or remain content in the world created for them? Could
she – would she – subject them to this confusion? Would it be worth it? And
even if she tried, why would anyone ever believe her?
Lola mindlessly walked along the streets, watching what type of
person she had been when someone stepped out in front of her. She hadn’t see
him until her face almost hit the side of his arm. The light reflecting off his
metal suit glared into her eyes and she squinted at him before she realized who
or what he was. A PROBer.
She had never stood this close to one before. They had always looked
like metal robots, but now, standing in front of her, she saw all the detail of
the metal suit. Buttons, controls, guidance systems, ammunitions and individual
panels covered it entirely; each one uniquely created for its own purpose. Lola
didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out exactly what they did.
Her feet stepped away from him, but her fatigue and fear caused her
to fall backwards. She managed to catch herself with her hands before her butt
hit the hard ground.
Instead of escaping detection and blending into the crowd, the
PROBer’s complete attention fell on her. His body turned and for the first
time, she could see the human eyes behind the clear plastic of his visor. Green
symbols began running across his eyes and she knew he had started running
diagnostics on her.
If he ran her DNA, she would be screwed.
His metal arm, equipped with at least two visible assault weapons,
reached down to help her up, but Lola abruptly stood before he could touch her.
Instinctively, she took a small step back.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” His voice soothed her and
subconsciously, she relaxed for a moment.
Then she remembered what Stela had told her when she last saw her.
“Don’t let them talk to you, Lola. They’ll only make you believe what you want
to hear!”
So she raised her defenses again and took another step backwards.
“I’m fine.”
The PROBer’s eyes dug until her. He must be measuring her voice
for authenticity signals. You can never lie to a PROBer. Lola desperately hoped
he attributed any abnormality to her fall as she held her breath and waited for
his response. When he gave his single nod, she stepped past him as quickly as possible
without making him suspicious.
She did not start breathing normally again until she rounded the
corner out of the PROBer’s sight. There Lola stopped, leaned against the smooth
glass of the skyscraper and let out a long, desperate sigh. Safe.
That had been too close.
Her relief turned to panic when her palms began to tingle and she
saw the blood that covered them. They must have scraped against the ground when
she fell. She looked behind her and saw drops of blood along her path.
How had she gone so far with blood dripping from her hands?
Lola started running before her brain fully processed the mess she
had inadvertently created. If she left blood on the ground, the PROBer would
clean it up, per UFP protocol. If he did, he would run her blood and see,
without a shadow of a doubt that she remembered everything.
Stela warned her this would happen.
Guns fired at her, but either missed her completely, or just like
her hand, her brain had other things to focus on rather than pain. Glancing
behind her, she saw the PROBer flying
towards her, his arms positioned to strike against her.
“Stop running, Lola Zhang. We can help
you if you only stop,” the PROBer
commanded. His words pierced her and more than anything, she wanted to obey
him. For a moment, she slowed, but if she stopped, they wouldn’t help her – they
would only take away her son. Again. She forced herself to keep running.
Anxious for escape, Lola flung herself through the first door she
found and locked it behind her - not that it would help her, but it might give
her a few extra seconds to escape. She didn’t know where she had entered, but
every single one of these skyscrapers was identical. As she maneuvered through
the building’s floors, she heard the door crash behind her and she could
practically feel the PROBer following her.
Every PROBer in the area would be looking for her by now.
Bolting back outside, she sprinted down to Halver street where the
shopping district might give her the coverage she needed.
She didn’t make it that far.
Another PROBer – or maybe the same one – flew over her head and
landed in front of her. The pedestrians shouted, crying out, growing more and
more hysterical as they believed a dangerous fugitive walked among them. Not a
normal woman who had simply remembered the truth of her life.
Her escape slowly disappeared, but still she could not give up. So
she turned around to run in the opposite direction, already watching her future
crumble before her. The PROBer would catch her, he would arrest her and he
would subject her to Pigrann again. This time though, she doubted they would ever
let her remember.
The image of the man she thought was her husband flashed through
her head and she longed to kiss him goodbye. Their son joined him and she
wanted them to be real. Haley. She remembered her son’s name. She ran faster,
the hope of being reunited with them growing inside her.
Then the inevitable happened. A hand gripped her arm and pulled
her abruptly away from the street, down a side alley similar to the one she had
tried to sleep in. She fought against her captor, tears streaming down her
cheeks as he pulled her closer and closer to a ship at the end of the alley.
She tried to rip his hand off her arm, but instead of metal, she touched flesh.
All of her fighting ceased and she looked up at the man who captured her. He
didn’t wear the uniform of a PROBer. He didn’t even look old enough to be one.
He dragged her along the ground as she stared up at him. Black
hair covered his head and his face, matching his black clothes and leather
jacket. And he looked straight ahead towards the ship. He didn’t look down to
her, nor did he look back to make sure PROBers didn’t follow them. He just
gripped her arm tighter and continued pulling her.
“Who are you?” Lola asked, almost afraid of the answer. Could he
be some new hybrid PROBer that didn’t need the suit? Was he arresting her?
Abducting her? Or worse, taking her to a lab?
He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he said in a low, almost
monotone voice, “You are one hard woman to find.”
“Do I know you? Who are you?” She looked up to him as they
approached the ship waiting for them. She didn’t remember him from any of her
memories, real or fake, but she had only just remembered her own son’s name.
He glanced down, their eyes connecting for the first time. “No,
but you do now.”
The bay door of the ship opened and the man threw Lola into the
empty cargo hold. He closed the door behind them and walked past her to the
pilot’s controls where he sat down and started the engines.
Lola looked out the back window, but saw no one coming after them.
No PROBer, no concerned citizens, nothing. How had he done it?
“Who are you?” She turned to him, but he continued to prepare for
takeoff.
When she became convinced he wasn’t going to speak to her, he
finally said, “You might want to buckle up” nodding to the chair next to him.
“Tell me who you are.” she demanded as she fastened herself into
the co-pilot’s chair.
“The name’s Danik,” he responded as the ship moved from the ground
into the air to fly over the heads of everyone she had just run from.
“Where are we going?” All possibilities ran through her head as
she tried to imagine why he had grabbed her from the streets. She feared the
worst. Prison. Torture. Pigrann.
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