Episode 26
A Hell of an Explosion
“Missing for over three months!?”
My mind reeled as I tried to come to grips with how I could be “missing” for so long and have no memory of it. It was hard to imagine that was even possible. However, it would explain why I hadn’t read my messages for so long.
I asked, “Where the hell have I been?” As soon as I asked the question I realized, if I didn’t know the answer, it was unlikely that anyone else would.
“I have no fucking clue. Did you watch the video Merc sent you? The one from the Trappist mission?”
“Yeah, I did. That’s why I texted you. The video doesn’t match my recollection of the mission at all. I recall it as a totally routine search mission, with no enemy contact. But the video …” I was at a loss for words to describe what the video had shown.
Lucy explained, “It was anything but routine. We lost a bunch of people, KIA. There was a fire fight. Then you got blown up. Do you remember any of that?”
I thought back to Merc’s combat footage. It had shown a brief firefight, Jones getting ready to blast the door on the target building, and then nothing.
I answered, “No, I don’t”.
He sighed heavily and said, “Command did some serious house cleaning on your memories my friend.” He then proceeded to bring me up to speed on our brief visit to Trappist 1-e.
“Here’s what really happened. Command ordered us in on a rescue mission. When we got there, it was clear there was no one left to rescue. The so called ‘rescue’ was a cover. Turns out, the previous mission had been completely annihilated by some new enemy weapon. Command sent us in to determine the scope of the new threat.
They gave us minimal intel on the enemy positions, and nothing about the weapon. They were prepared to sacrifice all of us to find out more about the new enemy technology. If it hadn’t been for Merc, we would have all been AD’d back there.”
I was stunned, and curious. “What did Merc do?”
“He stood up to Command. He led an unauthorized retreat, at the risk of getting AD’d. And the crazy thing is, we all followed him. He got us out of the kill zone.”
“The kill zone?”
“Yeah. The enemy hacked Command’s autodestruct system. They had some kind of transmitter on Trappist and began transmitting the autodestruct signal as we closed in. Everyone who was in range got AD’d. Merc got us out of there before it was too late. Command tried to force us to continue the assault, but with everyone in full retreat mode, they relented and disarmed the autodestruct system.”
“So, the enemy routed us?” This was a surprise to me. I was under the impression that the USMC was invincible. “I thought we won every engagement with the enemy.”
Lucy explained, “That’s what Command wants you to believe. But the facts are, we got our asses kicked. They sent us in again to try and secure the building with the transmitter, but the enemy put up a fight, just outside the target building.”
I saw the video. It had been a one-sided engagement. “We slaughtered them.”
“Those weren’t enemy combat bots you took out. They were only flesh and blood technicians. They put up a pretty good fight, considering.”
According to the video, there had certainly been plenty of flesh and blood. Moving on, I asked, “Then I got blown up?”
“Well, the main take away is this, the target building was rigged to explode, but it didn’t wait until we blew the access door. It exploded while you and Jones were out in the open. Jones got vaporized. And you … well, we found your brain box almost half a klick away.”
I was incredulous. My control module, which contained my consciousness, was found half a kilometer away? I let that sink in for a moment. Then, unable to find the appropriate words, I simply said, “It must’ve been a hell of an explosion.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Lucy agreed, “No shit. We weren’t sure there was anything left of you to salvage, but we brought your module back to the ship anyway. Merc turned you over to the maintenance-bots to see if there was something they could do.”
There was a hesitation before he continued. “When you didn’t show up on the net in the next few weeks, we all figured you were a lost cause. We even held a memorial for you.”
“A memorial?” It was touching to think that my fellow Marines had cared enough to hold a memorial for me.
Then Lucy added, “Of course, the only people who attended were Cherri and I.”
Rather than dwell on how poorly attended my memorial had been, I tried to focus on the positive.
“Well, thank you … for the remembrance.”
“It was Cherri’s idea.”
Attempting to control my growing irritation, I said, “Listen, it doesn’t matter whose idea it was. I’m not dead. Let’s just move on. Okay?”
“Geez. I don’t recall you being so sensitive.”
Hoping to leave behind the momentary awkwardness, I asked, “So if I wasn’t in maintenance, where the hell could I have been for the last 3 months?”
“No one knows. But one thing is for sure, Command edited your memories.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. I argued, “Do you mean because of the video? How can you be sure that wasn’t faked?” In the absence of any evidence to the contrary, the authenticity of the video was questionable. In my judgement, either version of my recent history could be true. I chose to believe my memories.
“Do you remember being in a relationship with Cherri?”
A wave of anxiety washed over me, as I weighed the implications of having been in a relationship that I couldn’t recall. Cherri’s messages to me clearly suggested that we had some kind of bond. An intimate relationship, based on the tone of her texts.
If I answered Lucy’s question honestly, it would mean that my memories had indeed been edited, and the video was mostly likely accurate.
“I know who she is. But … no, I don’t remember having any relationship with her.” It was still inconceivable to me that a prominent celebrity like Cherri would have any interest in somebody like me.
“Right. That’s because Command removed every memory you had of your relationship with Cherri.” He quickly added, “And they modified your memories of the Trappist mission, just like everyone else.”
Despite the rumors I’d heard about Command editing the combat memories of Marines after missions, I was still skeptical. If everyone’s memories were being manipulated, how could anyone be sure of … anything?
I scoffed. “Come on. If they’re editing everyone’s memories, how do you even know what the truth is?”
“Because, on every mission, we have dozens of pirated cameras recording everything that happens. How do think Merc got the footage of you getting blown up on Trappist 1-e? Did that look fabricated to you? Huh?”
I had to admit, he did have a point. It would be hard to fake the point of view on the video. The camera had clearly been attached to my armored assault vehicle during the mission.
“So, I was really in a relationship with Cherri, and I really got blown up on the Trappist mission?”
“Yeah. That’s the truth.”
“What a fucking mess”, I thought to myself. I couldn’t begin to imagine how to fix this. I asked, “What do I tell Cherri? I have no memory of our relationship.”
Lucy asked, “So, you don’t recall anything? Not even a personal moment you two shared?
“No, there’s nothing.” In spite of our unequal social standing, I felt badly for Cherri. Not only did I have no memory of our time together, but I was also completely devoid of any feelings for her. She was a stranger to me.
Lucy then asked me to check my archive files. “See if you have any memories of her in your archives. Those might have been erased from your RAM, but stored as cold data somewhere else.”
After checking both my internal and external data archives, it was clear that there were no memory files of Cherri and me. However, I did notice something odd. There were several encrypted files sitting in my archive.
Why would I have encrypted files? I certainly didn’t create them, so, who did? The only purpose for encrypting data was to prevent someone from accessing it. Did that mean that someone was hiding something from me? And if so, why?
Lucy interrupted my thoughts. “So, did you find anything?”
I didn’t want to tell him about the encrypted files before I had a chance to do some investigating of my own, so I lied. “Nope. Didn’t find anything.” I felt like my deception must be obvious.
“Well, shit. That’s too bad. You’re gonna have to tell Cherri that Command erased your memories of her.”
I wasn’t looking forward to that. Telling someone close to you that you suddenly don’t know them must be devastating. I told Lucy, “She’s probably not going to take it well.”
“Yep, she’s going to freak out for sure. Especially considering this is the second time this has happened to her.”
Caught off guard by the phrase “second time”, I asked, “What do you mean? Has this happened before?”
He casually explained, “Oh yeah. The same thing happened to her and Merc, when they were a couple. It’s the reason they broke up.”
“What the fuck?!,” I thought. There were way too many things going south on me for this to be a simple run of bad luck. The erased memories, the encrypted files, having so much in common with Merc. It had to be some kind of universal convergence of negative energy for this much bad shit to happen to me, all at once. I desperately I needed a break from my reality.
Lucy could tell I was struggling. “You look like you could use a drink … or something.”
Hoping against hope, I asked, “Is there such a thing here?” I tried not to get my hopes up too much.
“I think we can adjust your perspective a little.” He paused briefly, then a link popped up in my HUD. “Click on that and meet me in the lobby.”
I impetuously decided that an adjustment in my perspective was exactly what I needed to raise my spirits. So, with total disregard for the possible consequences, I clicked on the link. After all, I figured things were already so fucked up, they couldn’t get any worse.
But to be honest, I had been wrong about that before.