The Blackwater Files: Saved Memory

What would you do to remember?

Ronald Everson finally found that which would alter his life forever. But then the memory was lost. A stroke of luck brought him to the Elysium facility, would he be able to find it once more?

Check out the first Blackwater Files story from The Chronicler :

And then read all the other Blackwater stories!

The glare of the overhead light sent a jolt of pain through the man’s head. He cringed and tried to stifle a groan. It came out anyway.

            “Headache?”

            The man blocked the light with one hand and looked to his right. An older nurse in grey scrubs stood beside the bed and connected a series of sensors to the man’s body. He groaned again and blinked several times, the pain dissipating with each.

            “Yeah. I’m a VR gamer,” he answered.

            “Hmm…” the nurse said with a knowing nod. She plugged in the last of the cords and picked up a thick file. She leafed through the first few pages. “Ah yes, Overexposure Syndrome. Well, as you know, this study will explore your subconscious. We call it the Undertow. It’ll feel sorta like the VR rooms you’re used to but since it’s your own mind, it won’t exasperate your O.S. In fact, it’ll probably even help.”

            It made sense but the man doubted that a mere 6 weeks would do much to offset 20+ years of VR exposure. It didn’t matter much however as that’s not the reason the man was here. He pushed those thoughts away for the moment and examined the room. It appeared to be standard, the kind you’d find at any hospital in the country. Until his eyes fell on the futuristic monitors arrayed around the bed; they looked torn from a sci-fi movie.

            “Okay, I need you to confirm a couple things for me,” the nurse said as she leaned over the bed and scanned the man’s wrist. “Your name is Ronald Everson, birth date 12/14/2014?”

            The man’s mind went blank for several seconds. Ronald Everson? Was that the name he had given? He closed his eyes and thought back to the online form he had originally filled out. He had scrolled through the dozens of gamer tags and user ID’s he had accumulated over the years, looking for one that would hold up to the level of scrutiny he assumed this Elysium company would employ. He had narrowed the list down to just a couple…had Ronald Everson been on it? He shook his head; forgetfulness was another symptom of O.S. After a few seconds he let out a short breath, if the nurse’s machine pulled the name from his wrist then that’s the one he must’ve chosen.

            “Yes, that’s correct,” he finally replied.

            “Good. Now just sit back and relax. I’ll be right back.”

            The nurse patted the man’s arm and walked from the room. Ronald let out a longer breath and settled deeper into the bed, grateful the nurse had turned off the light. He closed his eyes and thought back to how he had arrived in this room. Finding the Elysium ad for this study had been a stroke of extreme luck, something of which he had experienced very little in his life. He didn’t quite understand what the company was trying to accomplish here, even after watching the intro video from that odd Dr. Karasevdas, but he didn’t really care. They claimed their pill would take him into his subconscious, that realm of dreams and lost memories. Ronald hoped he would be able to find what he desperately needed to remember.

            It shouldn’t be too hard to find if he understood the video correctly. More recent memories would be near the surface, with those from Ronald’s distant past being found deeper. He had no desire to revisit that part of his life; bouncing from one abusive foster home to the next was not an experience anyone would want to recall. No, Ronald needed something from just a few weeks back, a memory he hoped survived the accident.

            The light flipped back on as the nurse entered the room. She placed two small cups on the table beside the bed then picked up a gnarly-looking contraption consisting of a bar with a set of long needles attached. Ronald gulped; he didn’t look forward to the pain such a device would most likely cause.

            “Roll over on your left side please,” the nurse said.

            Ronald nodded and complied. He held his breath and winced once the expected pain came. Fortunately it faded a moment later and he settled back into his previous position. She next handed him the two cups, one with water and one with a pill.

            “Take the pill and then count back from 50,” the nurse added. “As Dr. Karasevdas said in the video, you’ll wake up in what we call the Lobby. That will be your gateway to the Undertow.”

            The nurse made a few adjustments to several of the machines then strolled from the room. Once the door closed behind her Ronald closed his eyes and started his countdown. He got to 22 when-

            -his eyes popped open. He no longer stared at a bright light on the ceiling of a hospital room, but at himself, reflected in a huge mirror overhead. He sat up and found that he was on a couch in what he assumed to be the Lobby. It looked like the entry point for his preferred VR game, The Facsimile. Another couch sat across a short expanse of tiled floor, with a checkerboard pattern. A large fireplace occupied the wall to his left. The room in general had an octagonal shape with six of the remaining walls covered in video screens, currently showing a variety of advertisements. Just like in the Facsimile.

            Ronald stood and stretched. He noticed he felt much better than when he stood inside a VR room. His O.S. had gotten worse over the past 6 months, to the point it hurt to move about in cyberspace. It hadn’t kept him out, the real world was still worse, but it made the whole experience much less of an oasis it had once been.

            After testing his movements a bit Ronald turned toward the 8^th wall of the room, the one directly opposite the fireplace. There, he saw a large door that opened into another room. A faint glow spilled out from within. He felt drawn toward it, like a moth to a flame. He took a deep breath, unsure if he was really breathing air, and walked through the opening.

            He entered another octagonal room, this one with video screens on its walls as well. A small table sat beneath each one. Ronald stepped to the one on the left and saw that the table held an Xbox 1080, the latest and greatest model on the market. Ronald’s eyes drifted to the other tables, each with its own video game console. The consoles appeared to get older and older from left to right, with the last being an Atari 2600. He moved to the middle of the room and froze when images sprang to life on each of the screens. A strange feeling washed over Ronald; he knew in that instance that these were his memories.

            The strange feeling morphed into a bit of nausea. Ronald stumbled back to the wall beside the door. He steadied himself and allowed the feeling to pass. He smiled and shook his head; it made sense that his memories would be represented by these systems. Video games had been his life since the first foster home he had entered. They kept him sane and safe from the awfulness that engulfed his childhood. He assumed the older systems held his oldest memories, those he would avoid. What he needed would be found on the 1080.

            Ronald walked to that console and picked up the attached controller. The vague image on the screen instantly morphed into what looked like a list of saved games, complete with dates and times. He was glad to see his memories appeared to be organized. There did not seem to be any entries in the time since he had first inquired about joining the study. That seemed strange but Ronald knew little about the subconscious or how memories formed; perhaps it took a few days for them to solidify.

            He scrolled through the list and found the date he needed. July 16^th, 2049. The day he stumbled upon the path that would lead him to a better life. He highlighted the date and pushed the Select button on the controller.

            The screen lit up and Ronald expected a video to appear, replaying his memories of that night. Instead, the screen seemed to extend toward him, wrapping light around his body and pulling him inside. The next thing he knew he was leaning against a wall in a small room. It resembled a man cave-type basement, with a couple recliners and a bean bag chair arrayed before a large television. A bar sat in one corner. Two men leaned against that bar speaking in a hushed conversation.

            He had gotten the tip in one corner of the dark web concerning a VR room in the Facsimile that was really a front for some government agency. The tipster didn’t know for certain but figured it was the CIA or perhaps the NSA. The room was supposedly used as a conduit to pay off informants, double agents, and the like. The information had piqued Ronald’s interest; he had made a small career stealing digital items in the VR world, things such as in-game creds, skins, prize packs, etc. but this represented actual, real-world money. Something he needed in spades. His O.S. had progressed to the point where Ronald could not spend much more time online without the situation becoming terminal. But if he could somehow get ahold of the account linked to that room…then all his problems would be solved.

            While not a highly skilled hacker in the traditional sense Ronald’s true gifts lie in his ability to lurk. He could code himself into almost any virtual space to the point where he could not be detected by any other inhabitant or the system itself. This enabled him to witness exchanges thought to be private and work out the connections that he saw. On the day in question, he had stood in the CIA-fronted room and watched as one of the men at the bar handed a handful of cryptocurrency to the other. Ronald was able to work out the account from which the money had been drawn and, more importantly, the key needed to access it. His eyes widened at the time; he could see a rough estimate of the account’s balance, an amount high enough to get him out of the VR rooms and into a life of which he never dreamed.

            As Ronald experienced the replay of that event, he readied himself, knowing the key would soon appear before his very eyes. After memorizing it originally Ronald had prepared to exit the room when a sudden alarm went off. His presence detected, he disconnected from the virtual realm only to find an alert on his computer that told him his IP address was being traced. After quickly activating a self-destruct mechanism Ronald had hurried from the hovel he called an apartment only to be hit by a car as he crossed the street outside. He woke up a couple days later in decent shape except for the fact he no longer remembered the location of the slush fund account or the key.

            Distraught, he had left the hospital and wandered the streets, all hope for a decent future and even a future at all fading into oblivion. He returned to his apartment, ready to while away the rest of his life in misery. But then aforementioned luck had arrived in the form of Elysium. And now here he was, standing back in that VR room as the slush fund account and its key appeared. He memorized it once more as a large smile spread across his face. It had worked. The light then brightened around him and-

            -Ronald found himself back in the octagonal video game room. He shook off the queasy feeling that followed and made sure he remembered the account and the key. He did. After taking a couple breaths Ronald turned his focus to the room around him. Going into this he had figured Elysium would have the means to monitor everything that Ronald experienced in this Lobby and the so-called Undertow. While he wasn’t sure if it would work Ronald applied the same principles he employed in ‘lurk coding’ to his own mind. The doctor had said he could communicate with Ronald while inside the Undertow but had yet to do so which led him to believe that his methods had worked.

            Another thing Ronald had prepared for was the 6-week length of the study. In his so-called line of work he had come across all manner of shady characters both in and out of the virtual world. Guys with the skills needed to pull Ronald out of a secure medical facility no matter its level of security. He had procured the services of such a guy with the promise of money he didn’t have but after today, would have more than enough. He didn’t know the exact time inside this place but knew it wouldn’t be long before he woke up in that hospital room, ready to leave and claim his retirement.

            Though he knew it was probably a bad idea Ronald walked over to the Atari 2600. He stared at the machine for several moments, a bit of curiosity welling up from within. He knew his earliest memories were held by this device. Unlike many who buried their past or whose brain completely suppressed their recall, Ronald remembered everything. All the pain, suffering, fear…it stayed lodged in the back of his mind, sitting there like a series of monuments carved from granite. He had long ago accepted its presence, much like you learned to live with pain in your knees. But a thought occurred to him in that moment as he gingerly picked up the Atari joystick. Perhaps the nurse was right, maybe seeing those long-ago memories, played out like scenes from a movie, could allow him to finally dislodge the rocks and cast them away. It would be nice to start his new life without the past weighing him down.

            After a few more moments he made his decision. He took a deep breath and pushed the big red button. The vague image that had been flickering on the screen vanished, replaced by a list of files much like he had seen on the 1080. The dates and times were there though Ronald could tie none to any specific memory. Except March 9^th, 2021. That date was etched the deepest on that rock in his mind. Sweat formed on his brow as his heart rate quickened. He highlighted the date and quickly pushed the button before he could chicken out.

            The screen engulfed Ronald in light. He dropped to his knees as a sharp pain circled his head. How long it lasted he wasn’t for certain but when both the pain and light finally faded he found that he was back in that closet, 35 years ago. It was dark, full of loose piles of clothes and old toys. He could hear heavy footsteps coming down the hall toward his room. The sound sent a shiver down his spine. The door to the room flew open and Ronald’s breath caught in his throat. This was it.

            “Come out come out wherever you are…”

            The voice of his dad. His biological father. The voice felt like sandpaper in his ears. This had been a terrible mistake, Ronald thought. He looked around, trying to figure out how to get back to the Lobby. His memory experience from the VR room had ended automatically once he saw the key; did that mean this wouldn’t end until...that happened? Tears ringed his eyes then rolled down his cheeks. Why had he thought this would be helpful?

            “Are you in the closet little man??”

            He was right outside the closet door. The knob rattled and creaked. Time, if this was even time, seemed to slow before the door finally flew open. Ronald rolled into a tight ball and waited for it all to happen again.

            “There he is!!”

            Ronald felt himself rise off the floor before being spun around and held aloft.

            “My boy, I found you!”

            A sense of resolve settled over Ronald. He wouldn’t go through this a second time with tears on his face. He would not give his dad, not even a strange, simulated memory of him, the satisfaction. Ronald set a scowl on his face and opened his eyes.

            “Hey buddy!”

            The scowl dissolved into complete surprise. He was indeed looking at his dad, but nothing like the man chiseled into that rock of memory. His hair was cut in a fashionable manner, his beard neatly trimmed, and his eyes full of…joy? He indeed had a jovial look on his face, something Ronald never remembered seeing. Dad pulled him into a tight hug, one full of love and not violence, then set him on the floor. Ronald stepped back, his eyes widening at the sight of his room.

            Gone was his sheetless, threadbare mattress in the corner. A racecar bed, the sleek kind he always wanted as a kid, sat in its place. The room was bright and cheerful with blue walls covered in dinosaurs. Ronald looked down from the bed to a large chest of drawers. He stared at the pictures that sat on top. They showed Ronald with his mother and father in a variety of fun poses in which they all looked happy. He could remember none of the events depicted. He reached over and picked one up, a shot of the three of them running down some beach. He had never been to the ocean in his life.

            “That was such a fun trip buddy,” his Dad said as he stepped beside Ronald. “Remember seeing those stingrays?? So cool!”

            Ronald slowly turned to look at his dad. The smile on his face was the most real he had ever seen. In his recollection such a look always had a malevolent undercurrent that had scared Ronald to death every time. But now…

            He took in the rest of the room. A large bin full of nice toys; a small rack of shoes, nice ones not the ratty ones he remembered wearing; a large Jurassic Park poster on the wall…

            A feeling of hyperventilation washed over Ronald as he stumbled to the side. His dad caught him and slowly lowered him to the ground.

            “You okay buddy?”

            None of this made any sense at all. Everything Ronald saw felt real, as if this was truly what he had experienced as a child. But he knew that wasn’t true at all. This was NOT what his life had been like prior to his entry into the foster system. Had something gone wrong with the pill he took? Some sort of allergic reaction?

            He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Nausea hit and everything went dark. Not just dark but a black, inky lack of light. His bedroom was gone, and Ronald couldn’t even see his own hand. He let out a couple long breaths and tried to figure out what to do next.

            Thump, thump, thump. Footsteps echoed from somewhere, thick soles on tile. Ronald turned and saw a small shaft of light in the far distance. A figure appeared, the source of the footsteps, and walked his way. After a few more steps Ronald could see that it was Dr. Karasevdas, the man he had seen in the intro video. He looked rather odd; a little too perfect and almost fake. He looked down at Ronald with an electrifying smile.

            “Jarvis Jones,” he said.

            Ronald’s eyes widened. He hadn’t heard his birth name uttered in probably 30 years. As soon as he had the proper skills Ronald completely expunged that name from existence. It just wasn’t possible to hear it now.

            After another megawatt smile Dr. Karasevdas extended one hand.

            “I didn’t think you’d come but I’m so glad you did…”