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[This is sort of based on a dream I had, though the parts
from the dream I haven't written yet. There's several more scenes
floating around in my head, but I'm not sure I like where it's
going.]
Updated 9/12/01: I added a scene that's been on my comp for
a while.
I woke in the middle of a jungle.
I knew that, somehow, despite the thick tent wall that prevented
sight of much outside of it. Curious, I looked around me at the
inside of the tent. Just a standard couple of packs, the sleeping
bag I was in, and a keeper. I picked up the keeper and rummaged
through it, looking for some kind of a clue.
I found
the identity card of a rather good-looking young woman. She looked
back at me from a mass of black curls, with brilliant blue eyes
assuming an almost accusatory look. I traced the signature under
it, searching for a name to this hauntingly familiar face. "Sierra
D Aldorre." I knew that the "D" stood for Damayante,
but there was no connection with this name, no sudden image of
the personality connected to it, just an uncanny intimacy with
that face.
I continued
to look through the keeper, full of bits of paper that should
have had more meaning for me. My eye lit upon a picture of a
man, right behind the ID card. He was mildly handsome, with long
hair--even curlier than mine--half pulled back from his face.
The eyes were in shadow, but I knew that they would be light
hazel, just as I knew that the curly beard on his chin would
be incredibly soft. But here too, there was no name I could place
to this face, and no clue on this picture.
In the
very last pocket, tucked away in the far back was another picture.
This one was faded and the edges were worn, as if it had been
there a very long time. In is was a young man in the uniform
of a recent graduate of military school, his new rank emblems
crisp on his shoulders. His hair was the same curly black as
my own, but cropped close to his head. His eyes matched my own
as well, filled with with pride in this picture, as they blazed
out of his rugged, classic face. He too I could not remember.
I started
towards the entrance of the tent, intending to go out and discover
more of my surroundings. Only then did I realize I was undressed.
Quickly I pulled appropriate clothes from the bag nearest me
and dressed, without even thinking about it. How strange that
I remembered some things without thought, and others were lost.
Outside
the tent was the remains of a small fire surrounded by packed
earth. There were footprints much larger than mine around it,
and hoofprints leading away. "So I'm not alone." I
looked up, then, and my thoughts were distracted.
Across
this tiny clearing from me was a horse, and a gorgeous one at
that. She was the perfect height for me, with a soft, well-brushed
coat of a luminous grey. I ran over to her, and then ran my hands
down her neck, reassuring myself that this vision was real. With
all familiarity she butted her head against me, and I felt comforted.
"Oh, Moon, you didn't forget me. How did I forget you for
even a moment?"
I turned
to grab her a carrot from the bag, grabbing a few nutrient bars
for my own breakfast in the process. As I stood there, feeding
her, I realized what had just happened. The memories of this
horse named Moon were no clearer than any other, but I remembered
that she was mine, and that she had been a present from someone
close to me.
While
I was absorbed in pondering this mystery, the sound of another
horse entering the clearing startled me. I looked up and saw
the man from the first photo enter the clearing. He was clean-shaven
now, his hair pulled back in a braid and his hazel eyes full
of exhaustion. He rode a powerful steed, a chestnut bay charger
of mighty proportions, compared to my delicate Moon. (But a bit
of pride assured me that Moon could beat his Aidan in a race
any day.) Across the hindquarters was slung some dead jungle-cat.
He dismounted
and walked Aidan over to the line where Moon was picketed to
tie him. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to react to his presence,
so I finished feeding Moon and waited while he tied Aidan and
put the cat on a tight line. It was then that I saw the blue-tipped
dart protruding from the cat's thigh. It wasn't dead, just tranquilized,
and in that instant I remembered that we were here to catch several
of the creatures.
The man--how
frustrating it was not to have a name for that face--turned to
me then, and smiled. Even from the perspective of a stranger
his smile was beautiful, for he had perfect cupid's-bow lips.
He closed the distance between us in a few quick steps and gathered
me into his arms. I relaxed and hugged him back-- everything
in his demeanor said that this was a normal reaction. I was still
unsure as to what I should do or say. If I pretended to be normal,
sooner or later I would be discovered. But how to tell him?
He let
go of me, a little, and stepped back. Those hazel eyes stared
searchingly at my face, waiting for something. I did not know
what he wanted, so I returned the look, feeling about to melt
into those eyes. He didn't seem to find what he was looking for,
but I think he was hoping not to, for then he kissed me soundly.
Again, I was not sure how to react, but some instinct inside
of me took over, and I kissed back. When we separated he ran
one hand through my hair and smiled.
"I'm
sorry I didn't wake you, love. You looked so tired and I thought
you needed your rest. Besides, this one" and he gestured
at the cat "would have gotten away." He stopped suddenly,
and again his eyes searched my face. Gathering me closer to him,
he continued to look down at me with that intense look. I couldn't
take it anymore, so I looked down at the packed dirt.
"Sierra?"
he asked, and I could hear the worry in his tone. It took me
a moment to remember that that name was supposed to be mine,
and to look up. "Sierra," he pleaded, "what's
wrong? Is it last night?" I wondered what had happened last
night to make him so worried about my reaction as I shook my
head. "What's wrong?" he repeated, fear in his voice.
"You can tell me anything."
I had
to respond. The worry in his eyes was almost painful. "I
don't know how to tell you." I began, honestly. "Can
we go in and sit down?"
He nodded,
and we sat inside the tent. Before I could put my thoughts in
order and try and tell him what was wrong he began to fervently
assure me that he was sorry about last night, and that he would
fix things if possible. I wondered if whatever had happened could
have triggered my memory loss, but I shook my head. "That
isn't it." I asserted. "It's just that I-" I couldn't
finish. How could I? I burst into tears then, the realization
of what had happened finally breaking through the strange calm
that had surrounded me since I awoke.
He just
held me to him, allowing my tears to soak his shoulder. He said
little, but I could practically feel his worried eyes on me as
he held me. "It's okay." he assured me, over and over,
"It's okay." Eventually I recollected myself, drew
the curtain of calm back over me from before, and pulled away
from him. I knew it was worrying him; he obviously expected me
to curl into him as I unburdened myself, but I couldn't.
"I
don't know what happened last night that you keep alluding to.
I don't remember anything before I woke up this morning in the
tent, alone, and unsure of where or even who I was. I don't know
who you are, but somehow I know that your horse is named Aidan,
and mine Moon, and that we are here to catch jungle- cats."
There, I spat it out.
He just
looked at me incredulously for an eternal, silent moment. "You
don't remember? Perhaps that's best, then I won't have to apologize
for the rest of my life," he seemed to be muttering to himself
now, "but how can she have forgotten all about me? She certainly
didn't kiss as if she had. And she responded to her name, if
hesitantly."
I interrupted
this outward train of thought. "I only know that that is
supposed to be my name from this." I showed him the ID card,
still clutched in my hand. "As to the kiss....." I
wasn't sure how to explain, it was as if my subconscious had
pushed me aside and said "I'll handle this" and kissed
him.
He nodded.
"I suppose there wasn't any memory telling you to stop."
He looked at me searchingly. "You remember no name? You
were called--were called, that makes you sound dead--are called
many things besides Sierra Damayante. Does some other name present
itself to you?"
I thought
about it, willing my subconscious, my memory, to unfog and provide
me with a name, any name. After a moment I heard a male voice
calling, Sable as if from a long way off. "Sable?"
That felt right in a way Sierra had not. It connected, it defined
me, even if it wouldn't show me who it was defining. "Sable!"
That felt right.
The man
looked amused, and a little humbled. "That was your older
brother's nickname for you. I was never allowed to profane it
by using it after he died." His eyes held a question.
"Use
it now." I said, sure. "It's the only name that I can
remember myself by."
"But
surely, the memory?" He acted as if he expected me to burst
into tears at being reminded of my brother.
"What
memory? I have, in a sentence, gained an older brother I didn't
remember, and then lost him. What pain is there in something
that feels so unreal?" Couldn't he see? Didn't he believe
me? "But what shall I call you?"
He looked
incredulous. "You don't remember me at all? My name, our
relationship, nothing? Once you would have called me love, or
dear, and now you know nothing?" He shook his head.
"I
know nothing. I am sorry that I do, for it obviously pains you
to hear it, but I did not ask to forget myself or you. I don't
even remember what could have happened to to make this happen.
Is it this last night you keep alluding to?"
The pain
on his handsome face multiplied, and then was replaced by almost
anger. "I see now. You tease me, pretend to lose your memory
so that you can make me recall something as painful for me as
it was for you--if not more so--and then try and make me tell
you about it as if to one who doesn't know, so that I must admit
my guilt again. I let you be this morning, I apologized constantly,
what more do you want?"
Sudden
anger filled me from some unknown source. I could know little
of my own personality as Sierra, but I was sure that she would
not have perpetrated such a deception. "Is that how I would
act if angry? Am I accustomed to do so?"
"No.
You'd just be quiet, look away from me at every moment, and when
you did look at me I could see the anger and pain in your eyes
all too clearly." There was pain in his tone now, but also
accusation. "But if you don't remember, how would you know?"
"Because
I felt hurt when you accused me of lying so, and part of me denied
vehemently that I would ever do such a thing to you, though why
you deserve such honesty is beyond me."
All the
anger and accusation dropped from him, and he looked at me, hurt.
I wanted to comfort him--the pain in his eyes was too much to
bear coming from anyone, and he was the only person I'd met in
my current memory. "I'm sorry." he muttered. "It's
just so strange and uncomfortable an idea, to be forgotten by
someone you love, that I went into denial. I should be more patient."
"It's
all right." I understood, in a way. It was hard for me to
tell him that I knew nothing of him, when he so obviously hurt
from it. "Just help me, please?" I couldn't keep the
pleading out of my voice then.
He nodded.
"I am Fyeri Todras." He looked at me expectantly, as
if the name alone would fix my memory, but I sat, waiting for
more. "We were sent from the Lodge to capture several jungle-cats,
alive, for breeding purposes. It is believed that with little
genetic change they can make a suitable ally against the Pontifects."
Ri-- Somehow I knew I had called him that, now--continued to
watch me for a reaction, but it all sounded like a story out
of a book for me. "This is one of the safe-zone planets,
at least for now. Here the Lodge plans to headquarter during
the struggle, for much genetic wealth has been sighted."
Still that intent look.
"It
all sounds like you're telling me a story about someone else's
life."
He seemed
to be wracking his brains for something that might trigger memory.
"Your older brother, Terry, was killed in a Pontifect assault
five years ago. Not much later you joined the Lodge, and have
quickly risen in status among the people. Before we left for
this unnamed planet, you saw the rest of your family safely away
to one of the He-Abi neutral zones. I was, in your words, the
only tie among people you had left." He could say no more,
I saw.
I tried
to associate these words with reality, with memory, but they
were as flat as if they had been written on paper in front of
me. The Pontifects were in my memory nothing, just some alien-sounding
menace I could not remember. And the Lodge, that had all the
earmarks of a secret society, with odd passwords, some resistance
to these Pontifects. I could picture no family, but a vague idea
that besides a mother and father I had two still-living sisters.
He-Abi neutral zone rang no bells, called up no images, but that
of safety. The only thing that felt real was mention of this
older brother, Terry, who had called me Sable and been killed
by the Pontifects. I dug out the second, faded picture from the
keeper.
I looked
at it for a moment, telling myself that this was Terry. I held
it towards Ri, who watched me gravely. "This is Terry, isn't
it?" He nodded. I gazed at the picture again, trying to
use it as a probe to dig up more memories, but all I could think
of was the voice calling me Sable. "I don't remember him.
Or my family--but I had two sisters, didn't I?" Again the
quick nod. "And I don't know what you mean by the Pontifects,
or the Lodge, or the He-Abi."
Fyeri
gently took the ID card from me. "This is your Lodge identity
card. See? Besides your name, Sierra, and your picture, it has
your rank, your sect, and the symbol. Does that help?"
It didn't.
It all seemed so distant, so separate from me. It wasn't my life,
it was some story he was trying to fit me into. I shook my head.
"Then the only thing I can do is take you back to hq. Perhaps
they can figure out what's wrong."
I nodded.
Perhaps if I met more people my past would start to surface.
We packed our things--something I still knew how to do, as if
an instinct--and we set off for the local Lodge hq. The jungle-cat
was still sedated, so Ri slung it back over Aidan's hindquarters
to take back with us.
* * *
While
we were trotting back to headquarters I called back to warn them
of our early return. I used the subvocal radio set so Sierra
wouldn't hear the conversation. She had worried me, with her
strange moments of lucidity and intensity. I also wanted them
to know before we got back in case there was anything else I
should do.
"Headquarters?
This is operator Zarian 42, calling...." I went through
all the tedious but necessary routine to even get me to a receiver,
sighing with impatience. Beside me Sierra rode as well as ever,
not seeming to have forgotten any horsemanship.
Finally,
I was received. "Todros? How's the mission?"
"We've
got one large male and are on our way home."
Surprise
in his voice. "One? Aren't you coming in early? I have you
out for a week."
"Something
came up that I think needs to be dealt with here." I really
wanted to talk to the Father, or maybe the head doctor, not just
any radio receptor, but I wasn't sure how in helix I was going
to get to either of them without telling the receptor our unlikely
story.
"And
you don't want to talk to me about it, I can hear that. Who do
you want to talk to, Mr. Todros?" I was grateful then that
Rory knew me so well.
"The
Father would be nice, or maybe one of the adjutants."
"I'm
putting on Kelny, he'll know what to make of whatever it is."
I waited
a bit through some static and then Kelny was there. "So
what is it?"
"It's
Sierra. The strangest thing happened. She woke up this morning
and knew nothing. She didn't even remember her name. But she
can still ride and do things without thinking about them. We're
coming back to see if the doctors can figure out why."
"Good
ole knock on the head usually does it, Fyeri."
"Nothing
of the sort I know of, though we did hunt separately yesterday.
But she was fine last night, or her memory was anyway."
Kelny knew me too well not to understand that disclaimer, but
he also knew to ignore it.
"That's
really strange, Fyeri. Have you mentioned any pertinent Lodge
secrets in her presence since?"
The sudden
suspicion in his tone worried me but I had no idea where it was
coming from. "No, why?"
"Doesn't
this seem a little too contrived to you? She wakes up and doesn't
know anything so we tell her all the Lodge secrets she used to
know and suddenly the Pontifects show up?"
I laughed,
it sounded to ridiculous. "No way. Sierra would never betray
us like that. That's ridiculous."
Sierra
herself interrupted me. "What are you laughing at?"
She couldn't hear the conversation because I was using subvocal
radio, but the laughter had not been at all subvocal.
"Just
an amusing train of thought. It'd take too long to explain."
I hated lying to her, but Kelny's suggestion, as ridiculous as
it sounded, had made me suspicious.
"Whatever."
and she returned to whatever thoughts had occupied her on this
trip.
"Nice
save bro." said Kelny, only half sarcastically. "I
didn't mean Sierra had to be aware of this plot. She could be
an unconscious instrument of it. It may be farfetched, but with
everything that's been happening lately we have to be especially
careful. Come in entrance 2B and after you've stabled the horses
we'll take her straight to the infirmary."
I hated
having to deceive Sierra, but I saw Kelny's point and altered
our course to follow his instructions.
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