Chapter 2

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She opened the door and walked into the narrow, musty office. A bored looking man leaned on his arm, scrolling on a tablet.

"Do you have an appointment?"

He spoke without looking up at her, without even moving his hand from the corner of his mouth, and continued scrolling and poking at the screen.

"Yeah, I-I'm Wren Mathis, I'm the 9:30?"

He was silent, poking and scrolling, she wasn't sure if she should repeat herself, or sit, so she stood, unsure, where she had stopped when he spoke, and became very aware of her arms and what their proper placement should be.

After an eternity, he finally looked up, Wren was startled. The guy couldn't have been much older than her, at most maybe 30, but he had one of the old fashioned visible eye augmentations. She tried not to stare but the twin wires running out of his temple into the corner of his eye, and the soft whirring as the ocular motor focused his shining silver artificial pupil were stunning. She had never seen one in person, they were ludicrously expensive when they came out, and she had been young, maybe not even in her teens when they went out of style.

"Whoa, I love your eye."

His brow furrowed and the motor whirred his pupil into a pinpoint.

"Swipe your ID please, and have a seat."

Wren turned to sit and heard the door to her left click open.

"Wren Mathis?"

A young blonde woman, not much older than Wren stood smiling in the doorway.

"Well that was quick."

"We're decently on schedule today, come on down the hall, first door on your left. It's nice to meet you, I'm Doctor Cannon."

They walked into the small room, made smaller with the overstuffed chairs and gently humming with equipment.

"If you would just have a seat, I've got a few questions before we upload the first wave."

Obliging, Wren sat as the young doctor swiped through a tablet.

"Alright, so in the last year have you experienced any traumatic events, such as the death of a close family member, a vehicular accident, a traumatic job loss, ect?"

"No."

"What about in the last three years?"

"I lost a great uncle about that long ago."

"I'm so sorry for your loss. Do you remember his death date and funeral date?"

"Um... no? I think it was after Easter, but I'm not sure when. Maybe, the beginning of May?"

"But you cannot exactly remember the date, day of the week, or anything like that?"

"No, I don't think so... Why is that important? I could probably call my Mom, she would know."

"No, no, don't worry about it. I just need to establish exact dates, if you don't know, you didn't make a strong memory of it, it should be overwritten just fine. You can recall it's right after Easter, so I'll just alter any memories from that time to slightly before or after the holiday so they don't overlay."

"Okay."

Wren felt uneasy, she had heard horror stories of overlay, and read the pamphlets, overlapping memories could be catastrophic. If your mind remembered an actual event that took place on a significant uploaded memory, your brain could recognize the false memory and begin to question other memories related to it. Eventually the mind would either reject the memories, refiling them as someone else's, and render them useless as first person experiences, or worse, you'd get overlay. Her brain would accept the memory as both false and her own, and the chronological integrity of every experience she'd ever had would collapse. She'd watched a docuseries about it a few years back, it happened pretty frequently when memory augmentation had begun, and watching grown men and women unable to even speak to the interviewer coherently for more than a minute at a time was disturbing. Fortunately, great steps had been made to curb overlay effects, including intensive pre-screening and small bursts of uploaded memories stretched out over time. Unfortunately Wren had paid a pretty steep sum to bury certain parts of her medical mental health history that could have caused ineligibility for the program.

Thousands of people did it, you couldn't live in a this day an age without some kind of educational training, and the doctor she paid assured her, there were certain risks, sure, but overall most people grew out of mental disorders, and excluding them from the opportunity to follow any career they chose because there were higher risks was unfair and discriminatory. Why should she have to pay because she had a few rough years in her late teens? Who hadn't? Decisions she made then, as a depressed 17 year old idiot, shouldn't impact her future so strongly.

"Alright, second question, do you have any negative associations with any particular events, areas, or groups of people?"

"What?"

"I know it's kind of a weird question, but imagine if a white nationalist came in here, and we uploaded him with a bunch of memories from a Jewish doctor. It would tear apart his brain. Frankly some of these questions are less for you and more for our legal team."

"So you guys have to ask questions to protect nazis?"

"No, it's not that at all, it's just... if we unknowingly upload what could be considered traumatic memories... I mean..." the doctor trailed off. "Look. Honestly? We get a lot of different types of people in here. You know, look at where we live. Not all of them are fine upstanding citizens with richly educated backgrounds. We're the only counseling center for a hundred miles, and our parent company makes money by working on a discount level. I have no idea why we have to ask these questions, I've had my implant less than a year, I'm working here on an internship to log my hours to pay off my doctorate upload, I took a podiatry implant, but according to MemMach Discount Memory Augmentation Services Inc, a doctor is a doctor and I'm fully qualified to make 100k a year asking rednecks if they're racist. Pre-screening looks for a lot of things, but there are certain things doctors can't very well ask, like, 'Are you a nazi?' or 'Do you think we should nuke Mexico', so it's my job to figure that out, and mark it in your file. If we don't, and you suffer overlay, you can come back on us and sue. Basically, I know there can be legal repercussions if someone is unhappy and we provide them with a loophole. So it's my job to make sure there are no loopholes. Just answer the questions so we can get on with it. Are you a racist?"

Wren sat stunned, the woman had so quickly dropped her pleasant doctor's persona. She couldn't answer, of course she wasn't a nazi or a racist, people weren't anymore, were they? These were dangerous words, if you said them three times in a mirror at night a white nationalist could show up and throw a moltov through your living room window. Finally, she spat out, "People are still racists?"

"Yep. Racists, xeonophobes, antitranshumanists, southern loyalists, chauvinistic pigs. People are quieter these days, but they still hate other people as much as ever. Listen, the look on your face when I asked, I'm just going to assume you're not a beer drinking redneck that likes to lynch in her spare time." She tapped some more on her tablet. "Alright, most of these follow along the same lines, so I'm just going to check them off. But here, have you ever been subjected to sexual misconduct? And this doesn't mean convicted, we're trying to get at any kind of traumatic sexual awkwardness, abuse, experiences, really."

"What? I thought these memories are academic? You're not going to upload some old guy boning his wife are you?! I don't want that, I just want to study law!"

The doctor laughed, "Oh God no, can you imagine. Didn't Jorden explain our free experience credit system?"

"Who's Jorden?"

"The guy that checked you in? Old robot eye out there?"

"He, he didn't say anything to me. He just told me to sit."

She rolled her eyes and sighed, "Typical. I don't know why he wants to work a front desk job, he's such an anti-social son of a - Listen, we're not a strictly academic uploading facility, we also provide vacation, entertainment, and experience uploads, rating from G to MA, we can even do some trips and experiences as family packages, so everyone can remember their yearly trip to the bahamas, or whatever. Disney sponsors a huge upload package now, it's not cheap but you can pick and choose what rides and shows you saw, even makes you remember waiting in line. It's nuts. But, every update you come in for, you're eligible for points, regardless what type of upload it is, and when you get so many, you can cash them in to get a little remembered time away. It's just an incentive program."

"Oh, cool. Wait, so I have to answer questions about sex because... ew."

"Yeah, I mean, honestly you've got to know that. The porn industry is where memory implants started, and they're still very... popular, to say the least."

"That is disgusting."

"Yeah, not everyone's cup of tea, but it keeps our lights on, so who am I to judge. Anyway, back to the question?"

"No, no I've never had any weirdly traumatic sex."

"Alright great, so I think we're ready, if you'll just lay down on that chaise, I'll get your file pulled up."

More swiping, then the doctor clicked her tablet into a docking station and pulled out a keyboard. She clacked away for several minutes, absorbed in clicking and scrolling, the look of automated professionalism blanking her face. You couldn't teach bedside manner, even years ago when doctors had to go to school for decades, there was such individuality between how they treated patients, but watching this young woman, Wren was still a little amazed at competent this woman looked. She felt reassured.

"Okay Wren, I'm going to start uploading your first wave of files, try to relax, you might feel a bit spacey, or incoherent, don't panic, everything is normal."

Suddenly, Wren felt very tired. The kind of tired when you've woken up at 2am to pee, and while you're sitting there, doing your business, half awake, you know your bed is only a few steps away. Your brain is technically on, but the only thing pulsing through it is how excellent it will be to return to sleep. It wasn't that she couldn't remember anything, it's that she didn't want to question it.

"If you feel like closing your eyes, you're welcome to."

The voice floated over her, words wrapping warmly around her.

"The memories upload slowly, you'll come in and out of sleep if you don't fight it."

She wished she had a blanket, but curling her arms around her and rolling to her side felt alright enough, she smiled dimly at the woman sitting in front of her and breathed out heavily, she could close her eyes for a second.

She blinked them open again, what was she doing? Where was she? She gazed sleepily at the empty tan wall, and the desk... right - she was getting her first memories today. Where was the woman? Sleep pushed on her again, the doctor told her it was okay, she closed her eyes and sunk into it, brain vaguely aware of a soft groan. Was she making that sound? Oh well. Everything faded away.

She licked her lips, her mouth was dry, she needed a drink. It was chilly too, maybe she could ask the doctor to make to room a little warmer, or to bring her a blanket. It felt so good to lay here with her eyes closed though. If she gave it a minute she'd probably be fine. Hands roughly grabbed her arms, and she struggled to break open her heavy eyelids.

"What the fuck?"

A woman was grabbing her, shaking her, moaning and crying. What was wrong? Wren still tried to force out words, was that the doctor? It was. The doctor was straddling her on the lounge, shaking her and crying. Wren felt confused and heavy. This wasn't normal, at least she didn't think so. Finally she managed a, "What's wrong with you?" The doctor screamed, and the scream turned into a peel of manic laughter.

"Get up Felicia! Get up now!" She was shouting, wildly shaking Wren's body as sleep still held her limp, slamming her neck and body on the back of the hard lounge.

"Wake up, you're just going to lay in bed all day?! You lazy bitch."

The doctor's laughs turned to sobs as she rolled off Wren and onto the floor. She struggled to sit up as the doctor began to crawl to the doorway. She hoisted herself up, leaning heavily on the shining brass knob.

"No, you're not, I have to call Mom. She can sort you out."

The doctor began pacing the room, Wren was more coherent now, but could feel another wave of sleep over taking her brain, making her slow and sluggish.

"Are you alright? I'll get help." She swung her legs around the edge of the lounge and tried to stand. The doctor spun on her, eyes wide,

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

She picked the tablet up from the desk and whipped it towards Wren. She was too slow to dodge it and it caught her in the temple, knocking her off balance enough to fall to the floor. She laid staring at the light coming in from beneath the door. She could hear a muffled voice and banging, and she watched disinterestedly as the light at the bottom shifted light, to dark, to light, to dark. People must be walking by. She closed her eyes and listened to the deep rhythmic pounding that was now rumbling through the room, it was too much to think about it.

A crack of light through her eyelids, there were people in the room now, three of them, she could see them fuzzily doing something in the corner. She closed them again.

A noise woke her this time, she wasn't on the floor anymore, she was moving, and someone had finally put a blanket around her. A man was looking at her and saying something, she didn't know what. It didn't matter, the doctor had told her sleeping was okay.There was a woman sitting across from her in a chair, eyes closed, blood trickling slowly down her face from long gouges that tore her cheeks. She looked peaceful, and it reassured Wren that sleep was alright.

Wren was nothing. She did not dream, and was not aware of falling asleep until she became aware of being awake. She had a pounding headache, a horrible throbbing pain behind her left eye. Cautiously, she cracked open her eyelids, and immediately squeezed them shut again. She groaned.

"It's too bright."

A pleasant bell tone drove a nail through her brain as it cheerily bonged three times. She heard a soft whoosh of a door sliding open.

"Hello Ms. Mathis, it is good to see you are awake."

A soft woman's voice floated through the air.

"Excuse me? Oh fuck."

Wren instantly recognized the tone and barely imperceptible wrongness in the rhythm of speech. She opened her eyes again to see a pillow bodied Nurse HOPE standing in front of her.

"Nurse HOPE, dim the room."

The blinds softly closed.

"I'd like to run some diagnostics now before another Nurse or Doctor can join you. Would that be okay?"

"Yes, that's fine. What's the estimated arrival time for a doctor?"

Wren hated being in the hospital, memories flashed through her mind, and kept looping back to the bloodied woman passed out in the memory counselors office. Had she had a reaction to her first wave uploads? What had happened?

"Estimated arrival time for the next doctor is 37 minutes."

"Nurse HOPE, can you dispense some ibuprofen or something, I have a headache."

The smiling LED light display flashed green and the medical robot whirred softly.

"I will dispense two ibuprofen, there is a water dispenser and cups on the other side of your bed. I must advise you though, that with these two pills you will not be able to consume another dosage of NSAID for a minimum of four hours. Is that okay?"

"Yes, I don't care, it's fine. Just give me some."

The robot walked closer to the bed and Wren sat up. She could hear the fans gently humming, keeping it's nylon outer shell inflated. She had seen some of these deflated during a trip to a museum when she was in high school, they were weird to look at, all cables and nothing closely resembling a human. But when inflated, the looked like a plump, soft bodied humanoid, it was the genius in their design. Since then they had freaked her out, she hated going to hospitals, watching them float along at a gentle walk, knowing the mechanical horror lurking inside. This one even had a little hat pinned to it's head. It was weird. Wren didn't like the affection people would give to AI, it seemed like as people got more technological, they empathized more with the plight of their mechanical creations. But at the end of the day, they were just robots, they sounded like us because a person had programmed them too, and people looked too much into it.

There was a audible clicking as the Nurse HOPE ratcheted through her inner storage to dispense a packet of ibuprofen. It slid neatly out of her palm, and she reached out to give it to Wren.

The next ten minutes were vitals tests, and when the bot was satisfied her condition was stable, she alerted Wren to the estimated arrival time of the doctor again, and gently bounced out of the room.

Wren closed her eyes again and tried to remember what had happened. Everything was disjointed and didn't make any sense. Did the doctor freak out, or was it someone else? Had anything happened at all, or did she imagine it? Certainly something had happened, she was in a hospital room, but she felt fine, just tired and out of it.

The door swished open again and wren looked to find a middle aged man waddled through it.

"Ah, Miss Mathis, good to see you're awake! How are you feeling?"

He seemed genuinely jovial, like they were old friends and she was recovering from a bad cold.

"Ok I guess. Should I be feeling bad? I don't, I mean, I can't actually remember why I'm here."

"No, probably not, a lot has happened over the last 24 hours. Why don't you sit up, and we'll run through your vitals checklist as I explain."

He wheeled a small cart over, and began hooking up vital monitoring systems.

"So yesterday morning you went for your first upload and overlay counseling session, do you remember that? Open your mouth please."

She grunted affirmation as he peered into her throat.

"Well your technician, Dr. Cannon, she unfortunately had been having some issues with overlay that she was trying to hide. I don't know exact details, but the receptionist at the told us last year Dr. Cannon had taken in her sister. The girl had been in and out of rehab, from what I hear she had a pretty bad heroin addiction. Does it hurt when I rub here?"

His hand was massaging her throat, but she felt no pain and told him so.

"So I guess her parents thought living with a soon to be doctor would help her get back on track with her life, but it was only a few weeks and she ended up overdosing on her sister's couch while she was at work. Well, Dr. Cannon didn't think that was traumatic enough to postpone her last doctoral update. I get it, I do, getting a doctoral memory upgrade is tough. It costs a lot of money, you have to work within a very strict timeline because they update our memories yearly, so every year you spend not getting the next update costs you more money in the long run. Alright, just pop this in your natural eye and we'll be done."

"Oh, I don't have any retinal implants. Does that matter?"

"Really?"

The doctor looked at her skeptically.

"A girl your age doesn't have a retinal implant? That's surprising. It doesn't matter then which eye you put it in."

Wren scooped the contact out of

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