Jenna blew out stunted breaths before she even opened her eyes. The stress of the week had been too much to bear, and she had given in to her friends’ demands to go out and drink herself to oblivion. Mission accomplished it would seem. Her head throbbed from every possible angle, and her mouth was bone dry from sleeping with it rather agape. Ironic, since she seemed to have formed a large pool of drool on her left shoulder. How had she even gotten home? She vaguely remembered protesting her friend Kara getting another round of shots. Had she then cheered later for the next round? She could still feel the club’s bracelet tight around her wrist. She fought to manage a hard swallow. Her mouth tasted like Southern Comfort and regret.

She reached to wipe the drool from her face, but her forearm was caught under something. Oh, God! Had she gone home with somebody!? She cracked one eye open to inspect her surroundings. The dimly lit space was not her bedroom – or her apartment. Was this someone else’s place? She tried to raise her other hand, but it was stuck too. She struggled against the pain of her headache to raise her neck up and look around. This wasn’t an apartment at all. It was one of the recording labs in the basement of Momento. Her thoughts felt thick and mushy as she tried to process all of what she saw. With labored movement, she bobbed her head down to see that both her wrists were tied down to the arms of the recording subject’s chair. Her feet and legs were likewise bound.

It was only then that she noticed the figure sitting at her feet. She gave a delayed start and began even more labored breathing. She looked up to see the dimly lit face of Mr. Ternal staring at her flatly. She struggled weakly against the ropes and began whining softly while he just sat there.

“You know,” he said quietly. “I had really gotten sober for myself more than anything. I think you ought to consider it. It can just be so destructive.”

Jenna wanted to scream, but it came out as a helpless croak. Her head was just too foggy.

“You’re fine,” Mr. Ternal said dismissively. “In fact, once I finish pulling out any memory of me, you’ll be blissfully unaware that we ever met.”

Jenna continued to fuss and fidget, looking to the security camera that hung in the corner of the room.

“Tch tch tch,” Mr. Ternal tisked. “I’m a little offended that you would think I hadn’t disabled most of the electrical fixtures and equipment in this building. One can do some pretty incredible things with access to a circuit panel.”

Jenna’s psyche vacillated wildly between being bitterly aware of her dire circumstances and being too encumbered to move to action. She relented to the torment, as her eyes closed and her face contorted, salty tears leaking down her face. Short, puffy sobs were all she could manage while Mr. Ternal clicked away at the settings on the tablet.

“They probably should have required a PIN and not just your thumb print,” he noted as he sat, hunched over the console. “Oh! Next step!”

He scooted the office chair over next to Jenna and gingerly pressed the gel pads onto her temples, ignoring her attempts to evade. He held his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated. The sharp sting of whiskey blew out with every breath. In Jenna’s impaired state, she thought she might have seen a sudden blur of movement across the glass behind him. The reflection of her thrashing in the partition, perhaps?

Mr. Ternal wheeled back over to the tablet and clicked through the next guided steps. Jenna watched, stupefied, as the shadow of a person suddenly appeared out of the corner of her vision. The figure stepped right up behind Mr. Ternal and quickly pressed a loud, bright taser to his neck.

***

Robert slowly woke up. The fresh electrical burn on his neck caused searing pain that seemed to radiate down his right side. A large welt throbbed on his forehead. But he couldn’t reach for it. His eyes shot open, and he quickly realized his most ironic predicament. The troublesome girl lay on the floor, and her coworker – the full one – sat glaring at him.

“You hit your head when you fell forward,” Felicity said. “My bad.”

Robert pursed his lips and pulled and twisted his wrists against the same rope he had tied up Jenna with. No. This felt different. He looked down.

“Yeah, I used zip ties,” Felicity explained. “Not taking chances with a monster like you.”

Robert sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m certain this isn’t going to go well for you either,” he said sternly. “Whether you find some small justice in it or not.”

“You turned off the cameras, right?” Felicity asked with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not sure what your goal was, but mine is pretty simple.”

It was then that Robert saw the electrode wires dangling in his periphery. This indignant cow had already hooked him up.

“And what?” he asked smugly. “You’re going to find more bad stuff that you know you can’t use against me? My right to privacy trumps your sad crusade. Nobody cares.”

Felicity ignored him as she clicked through the settings menu and made preparations. Robert couldn’t help but notice how much more deftly she commanded the software than the meek one had.

“Alright,” Felicity said. “The only thing I’m going to need from you is your fondest childhood memory.”

She didn’t look up from the screen but continued clicking. Robert scoffed at the notion.

“For what?” he laughed. “You think you can punish me by erasing the good stuff? That seems rather arbitrary and capricious for some idealist like you.”

“Oh,” Felicity said, looking over and smiling. “I’m not going to erase it. I’m going to send you there.”

Robert bristled. What did she mean? What did this unruly girl have planned?

“I can tell by the stupid look on your face that you don’t quite know what I mean,” Felicity said politely. “I’m sure Jenna described the anchoring datums – self and space – when she took your recordings? Without them, your memories will take over your consciousness and become your new reality.”

Robert started to struggle harder. He pulled against the triple zip ties until they cut into his slender wrists.

“Here it comes,” Felicity said, clicking the last button.

Robert felt a jerk. Like a cerebral bungee cord yanking at the back of his brain.

“Think of the fondest childhood memory you can,” said a distant, alien voice.

***

Robbie sat at his tinkering table. The daylight shone through the attic window, highlighting the dusty air. The smell of the sun-warmed wood-planked floor and walls filled his nose as he tightened the final set screw on his latest circuit. The wooden board held neatly routed red and black wires, a nine-volt battery, a doorbell housing, and two pieces of thin copper sheeting. He took a deep breath and pressed the “pressure plate”, squeezing the copper sheets together and setting off the rattling chime. Mother called up. Dinner was ready.

Matt Hebert is an engineer and self-published author. His dopamine-fueled creative pursuits have spanned from chicken keeping, sand sculpture, acting, and public speaking, but writing is nearest and dearest to his heart. He lives in Bellevue with his wife and two daughters. You can find him on Instagram at @jerkofalltradeshebert or email him at matt.hebert.books@gmail.com

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