Rogue Memory - Chapter One

This is the first chapter of my book, Rogue Memory, available on Amazon.

The ghost gums lining the lake scented the air with the sweet, tangy smell of eucalyptus. Stephanie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she walked between the trees, toward the group of teenagers laughing as they dared each other to swing into the lake.

Her wrist tingled and she swung her arm up, activating the holographic display. The lights fluttered across her skin and she frowned. Spencer Evans was requesting a face-to-face.

She flicked the display open and ducked behind a tree.

Though the teens she'd met earlier this summer thought he was her uncle instead of her monitor, it wouldn't do anything for her credibility if she was seen talking to him on the way to a party.

"What?" she snapped.

"I have to talk to you."

"I can see that."

Sweat pooled at the back of Stephanie's neck and she wiped it away, running her hand over the hair at the nape of her neck. She slicked the flyaway auburn tendrils up into her high bun. Even when dressed in a pair of shorts and a swim top, the heat was oppressive on this planet, the terraforming making conditions barely livable this close to the equator.

"I'm nearly at the party." She raised her eyebrow, expectantly. What could be so important he'd waste the extra credits on a face call? It's not like he didn't know where she was.

"It's Caroline."

Her breath hissed in, catching on a lump that formed in her throat. All thoughts of the party fled from her mind in an instant. She leaned back against a tree, the bark oddly smooth on her bare skin.

"What's wrong?"

"Psychotic break, same as the others."

She closed her eyes. Her ears popped and she felt like she was falling, even though she could feel the tree pressed against her back and, presumably, it was still rooted into the ground. She waited for the ground to come up and smack her in the face, bracing for impact.

"What are her symptoms?" her voice came out as a whisper.

"Audio-visual hallucinations, delusions of persecution."

She opened her eyes. "How many is that now?"

"Six."

Her throat closed over. She blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the sudden sting at her eyes. She couldn't cry here, no matter how much she cared about Caroline.

"That's... About ten percent of us."

"Six females. Seven males."

Her breath escaped in a low gasp, like she'd been punched in the stomach.

"That's what? Nearly a seventy-five percent success rate? If no one else develops any symptoms."

He nodded.

"Have they made any progress on developing a cure?"

He shook his head. "Any medications we've tried have a negative impact on your abilities." And they both knew their abilities were the whole reason they were there.

"Is there anything we can do?"

"I don't know, Steph." He ran a hand down his face, as though trying to wipe the stress away. He looked old suddenly, lines appeared on his face that hadn't been there before.

"Anything?" Her voice broke on a sob and she turned away from the display, trying to hide her face from the image readers.

"I'm sorry. I know you were close to Caroline."

She took a deep breath and turned back to the video call. "What about coping strategies? Therapy? Meditation? There has to be something you can do!"

"It's not my job to take care of the others, Stephanie."

"Damn it, Spencer, what about me?" Tears stung her eyes and she forced herself not to turn away this time.

"I... Do you trust me?"

"Of course." She frowned. Why wouldn't she trust him?

"You have to tell me the second you feel anything strange, anything out of the ordinary. Maybe if we catch the symptoms developing earlier there's hope."

"I'd rather stop the symptoms from developing in the first place." She muttered. Slowly losing control of her own mind... She couldn't imagine how that would feel but she felt cold suddenly, even in the oppressive heat. She wrapped an arm around her core, trying to hold onto herself.

"I think part of the problem is your abilities. When you're absorbing other people's memories, I think it's easy to get confused. Maybe the human brain isn't meant to hold more than one set of memories without fracturing."

"Maybe they should have thought about that before they made us."

Silence fell between them. It occurred to her that questioning her own existence probably wasn't the healthiest statement, psychologically speaking.

"You could try visualizations. Maybe holding onto the core of your identity will help you avoid confusion."

She nodded, listening.

"Whenever you start slipping or feel stressed out, I want you to stop and think of five things - five incontrovertibly true things - about yourself."

"That's it?" she raised an eyebrow. That's what his advice boiled down to, remember who you are and try not to go crazy in the process. That was helpful.

She cleared her throat. "What happens if more of us fail?"

"Further testing." He avoided her eyes.

"And?"

"Possibly... Going back to the drawing board. Genetically speaking."

He didn't say it but it was clear enough. Going back to the drawing board would mean scrapping the current project. Her heart beat faster, the staccato beat forcing a rushing sound in her ears. Her face felt hot.

She wasn't going to die.

"Okay, thank you for calling me."

"Stephanie-"

She closed the conversation.

The world around her slowly filtered back into her awareness. Sunlight filtering through the gaps in the trees. The ground, rocky and dry beneath her feet, scraggly grass clinging for purchase. The sound of some birds chirping in the distance. The low bass beat of music. The sound of someone laughing. Shouting.

She sat down beside the tree, her bag falling off one shoulder to the ground. The bottle of alco-synth clanked against the tree. She pulled her knees up one by one and hugged them to her chest. She let her head fall against her knees and took a deep breath, trying to push the knot of panic down.

She did not want to go to the lake party anymore.

She slid the drawstring of her bag open and took a long swig of alco-synth. It fizzed on her tongue and tasted like sugar and blueberries. She leaned back, waiting for the warm haze to cloud her vision. She took another sip and forced herself to breathe slowly. The world took on a golden tint and she felt a warmth rush over her. The good kind of warmth, like sliding into a hot bath. Not the sickly heat of the day, sticking to her skin like spun sugar.

Five incontrovertible truths, she thought. Bitterness flooded her then drained away, leached by the drink.

Another sip.

One, I go by Stephanie Orson but it may as well be Stephanie queen of the universe for all the truth that name contains.

I am a succubus class genetic experiment.

Batch two.

My batch-sisters are going crazy.  

She needed another sip at that one, a long glug that burned as the bubbles hit her throat.

She couldn't remember if that was three things or four. She went on anyway, deciding she'd count them properly next time.

Truth four-ish? I miss Caroline.

Tears started to burn across her cheeks, scorching her skin.

If Caroline's broken, what chance do I have? What chance do any of us have?

She folded against her legs, her breath catching on a sob.

Truth five; I'm really freaking scared.

Reviews

[Indigomoon]

i really liked this i like scifi stuff and this is really ringing that bell i hope to see more and why is an experiment out and about with human is one question i have and also why are they going crazy and why if caroline is supposedly the strongest why did she fall first

[3X3MPLER]

really good i cant wait for more