The Blackwater Files: Saved Memory Part 3

The Trilogy Concludes...

Inside Elysium, Ronald Everson/Jarvis Jones discovered he couldn’t trust his own memories or his concept of reality. Will he find it before it’s too late?

Get caught up on the first two parts of the Saved Memory story!

And check out the other Blackwater Files stories!

Now for the conclusion to Saved Memory!

“Please, have a seat.”

            The young man gulped and sat at the rectangular table. A woman in a lab coat smiled at him from the opposite side.

            “Don’t worry, everything’s okay.”

            The two sat in what looked like a police interrogation room albeit one with a series of colorful pictures on three of the walls. A large window filled the fourth.

            “I have the questionnaire you filled out,” the woman said as she picked up a file full of papers. She opened it and perused several of the pages. “I’d like to confirm a few of the details if that’s okay.”

            “Um, sure,” the young man replied. He was on the short side with shoulder length hair and a couple days stubble on his chin. He wore thick-framed glasses that constantly had to be pushed back on his nose.

            The woman nodded and took a few moments to study the documents. The young man had seen an ad for a medical study online and, as he was in between VR jobs at the time, signed up for the money. The ad hadn’t given much information; the man just hoped it wasn’t for anything potentially dangerous.

            “Your name is Jonathan Hargrove?” the woman asked.

            “People call me Jon, yes,” he answered. “What exactly is involved with this study?”

            “In a moment,” the woman said. “Your parents both died from illness, correct? Do you know the approximate dates?”

            “Um, yeah,” Jon said as a sudden bit of emotion welled up within. He fought back tears. “Dad died when I was 15, Mom about 6 months after I turned 18. Right before I went to college.”

            “And you went to Ohio State where you majored in pre-med,” the woman said. “But you never made it that far…”

            A bit of red covered Jon’s face as he looked down at his hands. He gave a slight nod. He had wanted to become a doctor to help people like his parents. He had failed. A slight tremor began to overtake his body.

            "How did failing at college make you feel?”

            A sudden rage propelled Jon to his feet. He flung his chair into the wall and flipped over the table.

            “No more questions!” he screamed as he spun and rushed for the door next to the large window. He tried the knob but it would not turn. Jon lowered his shoulder and rammed into the door. On the 3^rd attempt it gave way and Jon sprawled into an adjacent room.

            Dr. Jarvis Jones stared at the fallen man with wide eyes. A strange feeling of nausea washed over him as he stumbled over to Jon. He dropped to one knee and leaned against the wall. A sharp pain struck him between the eyes. Jarvis grabbed his head and-

            -shot awake. Jarvis looked around and saw that he was back in the Lobby. He sat on one of the couches and had been dreaming of himself as Dr. Jones, something he still could not remember. But had it even been a dream? Was it a VR sim? Or was it a re-lived memory from the Undertow? It was so hard to tell anymore.

            A thought struck and Jarvis grabbed the top of his head; all he felt was hair. Had he REALLY woken up in the middle of a surgery? He didn’t feel any scars or pain aside from the normal O.S. headache. Of course if he was still in a VR room or the Undertow he doubted he could feel anything related to a surgery. Perhaps he was even still in the middle of it.

            He pushed the confusing thoughts away for the moment and stood. He looked around the Lobby and noticed that it looked different from before. It was darker for one, and appeared a bit rundown, as if it hadn’t been maintenanced in years. A layer of dust sat on everything and the video ad screens were dark. One of them even looked cracked.

            "Doctor?!” he yelled. “What’s happening??”

            His voice echoed around the room without a response. Was he still being monitored? He walked into the console room and saw that it too looked dirty and rundown. All the consoles were in their spots however and appeared to be operational. He moved to the XBOX 1080 and picked up the controller. He hoped memories of the past day or so would already be stored inside. The screen flickered and a list of dates appeared. Jarvis highlighted the most recent, unsure of how long before his current time it actually represented. He hit select and-

            -his eyes popped open. He stared at the reflective ceiling of an operating room. He had indeed been in surgery.

            “He’s awake!” someone yelled.

            “Get him back under!” another answered. “All the way too! No REM, the deepest level of unconsciousness!”

            Jarvis adjusted his line of sight to see a nurse rush over with a long syringe. He felt a pinch and then-

            -he was back in the console room. He took a couple steps back and looked around again. Was he unconscious due to that shot? He didn’t think he had received another pill to put him down in the Undertow. And the overall downtrodden look he was seeing suggested to him that he had somehow accessed it on his own. Which meant Elysium probably couldn’t see him or monitor what he was doing. Especially if they assumed him to be under deep sedation. He slowly walked along the consoles and wondered if he could somehow access their settings to find his real memories. Was he a neurological doctor or an ex-foster kid turned VR junkie?

            After a few seconds of consideration he picked the GameCube. He remembered hacking into the console back in the day to add all sorts of codes to the games he played. At least he thought he did. Perhaps he could do the same here. He first pulled up the list of dates contained in the console. He then flipped it over and pried open the bottom cover. He pulled out several of the wires and exchanged their input positions. He looked up as the screen flickered and a new list appeared, this one in a red font. It appeared mostly like the previous list except with slightly different dates and times. He picked one at random and prepared himself. He hit select. The screen brightened and enveloped him with light. Jarvis-

            -snapped alert. He stood next to a bed in some unknown hospital. He looked down to see an older man who he somehow knew was his father. Though the man looked nothing like the guy he had seen in his earlier memories. He glanced to the end of the bed and saw the man’s chart. Jarvis reached for it to see the guy’s name. As he grasped the file a wave of nausea hit and the room lit up. He seemed to fall for a moment only to land-

            -next to another hospital bed. He felt a bit older and now looked at a sickly older woman. Before he could do anything else the nausea hit again. This time the room swirled and the next thing he knew-

            -Jarvis was in an office somewhere. He sat on the opposite side of a large desk from an older man in a tweed jacket. The man had a tightly trimmed goatee with greying hair and held up a file folder.

            “I’m not sure what this is but there’s no way you’ll be able to graduate, let alone get into medical school,” the man said, who Jarvis suddenly KNEW was a Professor Evan Lewis. “If medicine was something you were interested in then you should’ve been way more serious from day 1.”

            The professor extended the folder. After a moment’s hesitation Jarvis reached out and took it. He noticed his hand looked odd, had a tattoo on the back he did not recognize. As he looked closer-

            -Jarvis fell back from the GameCube console. He crashed to the ground with a loud thump. He let out a long breath. Were these last memories really his? It was all so overwhelming.

            “You must be very confused.”

            Jarvis jumped and scrambled to his feet. A door he hadn’t seen before stood open in the wall between two of the console screens. Dr. Karasevdas and two large orderlies stepped through. They looked extremely serious.

            “What’s going on?” Jarvis asked.

            “That’s something we need to discuss,” Dr. Karasevdas answered. But for that we need to go back to the Lobby. Honestly, I’m not sure how you got here. Boys?”

            He gestured for the orderlies to proceed. They moved to either side of Jarvis. He looked at each in turn then stepped to the nearest console stand. He leaned against it with both hands.

            “Now let’s-“

            With a sudden jolt Jarvis grabbed the entire stand and threw it into the orderly on the right. He retreated to the next console and threw its stand as well. He repeated this with the rest of the stands on that side of the room as the orderlies tried to get to him. Cords popped from the walls and sparks flew. Jarvis didn’t know how this was happening but it provided the chaos he needed. He lowered one shoulder and rammed it into the closest orderly. He spun away and dashed through the door in which the men had entered.

            “Get him!” the doctor yelled. The orderlies stepped over the mass of consoles to give chase.

            Jarvis ran down the corridor beyond the door which he found to undulate like a snake. He ran too fast to follow the path correctly, instead he bounced back and forth between the walls. He had made it a dozen yards when an explosion echoed from somewhere back behind. A shockwave, how such a thing was possible in here Jarvis didn’t know, slammed into and knocked him to the floor. He hopped back to his feet as he heard the orderlies shout. He resumed running when the corridor shook. He tripped into the wall again and-

            -stumbled into a kitchen. He slid to a stop in confusion. The kitchen was very small and incredibly dirty, its sink full of nasty dishes. He knew this place…

            “There’s my little man!”

            Jarvis spun as sweat poured down his face. He stared at his father. Wild haired and appearing very angry.

            “Got you…”

            His dad readied a backhand when Dr. Karasevdas and the orderlies rushed into the room. Dad spun, giving Jarvis the opportunity he needed. He darted through the door to the outside. He leapt off the small deck and into-

            -a laboratory. He stood before a broad table on which an open topped wooden maze sat. A woman on the other side brightened at his arrival.

            “Dr. Jones!” she exclaimed. “Right on time. We’re ready.”

            She held up a small mouse cage in one hand and extended a voice recorder in the other. Without really thinking Jarvis grabbed the recorder and turned it on. He spoke without conscious thought.

            “Memory overlay trial #372. The mouse Ervin has never seen maze configuration Delta. He has been give the memories of Freda, a mouse who completed this maze a dozen times. Dr. Martin?”

            He watched as the woman pulled a mouse from the cage and placed it on the starting point of the maze. The mouse raced through the entire thing in just a few seconds.

            “Wow! I-ahhh!”

            The woman's words devolved into a scream. Jarvis followed her line of sight to see Dr. Karasevdas and the orderlies rush into the room. If they were surprised at where they were they didn't show it.

            “There he is!” One of the orderlies hollered as he pointed across the lab. Dr. Karasevdas pushed them toward Jarvis. The man dove under the table and ran across the lab. He burst through another door and crashed into-

            -a college dorm room. Jarvis fell to the ground next to a bed. A young man atop it disentangled from a woman and looked down at him.

            “Shit Jon, what’re doing?”

            “Jon?” Jarvis said as he stood to his feet. Before he could question this further Dr. Karasevdas and the orderlies burst into the room. They rushed Jarvis and grabbed him by either arm. Jarvis fought back, the group knocking into the room’s desk. They continue to wrestle, spinning out the door and into-

            -the hallway of a rundown house. The fight bounced from room to room, a new memory housed in each. Jarvis felt himself being pulled in a dozen directions as they fought, waves of nausea and alternating memories sending blasts of pain through his head. They bounced through foster homes, college classes, laboratories… he watched as his parents died, as his father abused him, as his father played with him. He graduated from Med school, was rejected by Med school, ran from his father in terror, leaped into his father's arms with joyous laughter. It was a whirlwind of chaos.

            The trio crashed through a door and back into the Lobby. The orderlies finally got a solid grip on Jarvis and pushed him up and into the wall. Dr. Karasevdas entered the room and walked over to the orderlies.

            “Good work,” he said. “I-“

            The doctor suddenly jerked his head upward. A look of concern crossed his face.

            “We have to go,” he said with a hint of fear in his voice. He pointed to Jarvis. “Leave him here.”

            The orderlies nodded and followed the doctor from the room. Jarvis stood as the whole Lobby began to shake. The lights flickered and pieces of ceiling began to fall. Jarvis stumbled toward one of the couches then tripped and fell into-

            -a hospital bed. He sat up, looked around. His entire body ached; he had to be back in the real world. He reached up his hands, IV’s coming from each, to feel his head. Several layers of gauze wrapped around it.

            Gunshots echoed from somewhere outside. He then heard footsteps hammer down the hallway. Seconds later the door to the room exploded inward. A trio of men entered, each clad in body armor and carrying automatic rifles. Two spawned face the door while the third rushed over to the bed. They looked like mercenaries.

            “Time to go,” the leader said.

            The mercenary grabbed his arm and pulled him to the window.

            “J, the window.”

            One of the other mercenaries marched to the window and broke it out with the butt of his rifle. He then slung the gun over his shoulder and pulled a rope from the bag on his side. He threw one end outside and tied the other to the bedframe.

            “Raise your hands,” the mercenary said. Jarvis complied and watched as he pulled the harness from his own bag and wrapped it around Jarvis’s waist.

            “We got incoming!” the mercenary by the door reported.

            The leader nodded and cinched the harness tight around Jarvis. He pushed him to the window and picked up the rope.

            “Jon, have you ever rappelled?”

            Jarvis stared at the mercenary. Why did he call him Jon? And HAD he ever rappelled?

            “I don’t, I don’t know,” he finally stammered.

            “We gotta go now!” the mercenary by the door yelled as he slammed it shut.

            “J, down first,” the leader commanded.

            The mercenary with the rope, J, hooked himself up and dove out the window. The leader grabbed Jarvis and slid the rope through the carabiner on his harness. Before Jarvis could say another word the leader shoved him out of the window. He fell for what felt like an eternity when suddenly he slammed to a stop. He hung upside down, staring at J.

            “Ground floor,” J said with a smirk. He got Jarvis turned around and upright then disconnected the rope. The other two mercenaries landed beside them a second later. Jarvis noticed that they stood in a tightly packed cluster of trees. He did not remember any such trees around the Elysium facility.

            “Come on!” The leader yelled. The quartet weaved through the trees and came to a small clearing. A Jeep roared through the trees on the opposite side. It crossed the clearing and power slid into a stop.

            “Get in!”

            The mercenaries and Jarvis piled into the Jeep. It took off back across the clearing and plowed into the trees. After a short, weaving path the Jeep skidded onto a paved road. It raced forward and headed toward a small town in the distance. Jarvis leaned against the seat between two marries and let out sigh of relief. He didn't think these guys were going to show up. They were late or at least he thought they were. He actually had no idea how much time had passed since he had entered Elysium.

            “They call you Race right?” Jarvis asked. The leader nodded but kept his eyes on the sideview mirror. “What day is it?”

            “I know we’re late,” Race responded. “The original address you gave led to an empty building. Took some time to find you.”

            “How long?”

            “About 3 days.”

            Three days… it felt like much longer than that but also shorter as well. Jarvis let out another breath and fell silent. The Jeep entered the small town and pulled behind a mechanic shop. The driver turned off the engine and no one moved for several minutes. Finally, Race turned and faced Jarvis.

            “Okay Mr. Hargrove…”

            The mercenary continued to talk but Jarvis only heard the name. Mr. Hargrove. Jonathan Hargrove. Everything clicked into place. It was as if a dense fog had finally dissipated, allowing him to see. He wasn’t a foster kid OR a doctor…he was a college dropout who lost his parents and turned into a VR gamer/junkie. A million memories, his real memories, coalesced in his mind. A headache appeared and he slowly rubbed his temples.

            “Mr. Hargrove?”

            Jarvis, or Jon, look back at the mercenary and the phone held in his hands.

            “Our payment?”

            A wave of fear raced through Jon in that moment. He had promised the mercenaries payment from the windfall he had set out to obtain from the government slush fund. Had that slush fund been real? He now remembered his real life, at least from the distant past, but what about the most recent months? Race pushed the phone into his hands and gave him a hard stare.

            “I won’t ask again.”

            “Let me out for some air and I’ll access the funds.”

            Several moments passed as Race considered this. He finally nodded to the mercenary on Jon's right. He opened the door and stepped out. John followed and drifted over to the shop’s back wall. He paced for a moment and tried to figure a way out of this situation. These men were not to be trifled with. Not paying what was owed them…Jon froze. He had found Race in the VR world, which meant…

            In that moment the 16-digit key to the slush fund popped into his mind. He held up the phone and navigated to the account housing the fund. He inputted the key and hit enter. His eyes widened at the available balance. He couldn't take it all of course but set up a transfer to his own account in an amount where he would not have to worry about money ever again. Jon then initiated a transfer to the account provided by the mercenaries. He threw in an extra 20% to stay on these guys’ good side. He walked to the Jeep and handed the phone back to Race. The mercenary’s eyes widened as well. A smile followed.

            “Nice doing business with you Mr. Hargrove,” Race said as he pocketed the phone. “Where to now?”

            Jon let out a breath and considered the question. Though it turned out to be a convoluted and mind-bending trip his original plan had worked. He now had enough money to free himself from the VR world forever. And he now had all the time in the world to figure out his real past and exactly who he was.

            “The nearest airport,” he finally said.

            “Sounds good,” Race said. “Load up.”

            With a sigh of relief Jon got in the Jeep. The engine started and the vehicle pulled back onto the street. Jon leaned back and cracked a slight smirk. If he didn’t like the person he eventually remembers then Jon could just become someone new. And that was just fine with him.

***

            “Dr. Karasevdas.”

            “Sir, the subject has left the compound.”

            “Current location?”

            “On I-9 headed west. Riding in a 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee. He was pulled out by a group of mercenaries. I’ve emailed you what we know of them.”

            “Did he take the money?”

            “Yes sir. Do we continue surveillance?”

            “That’s not necessary. He’ll be easy to track with that much money. But keep his file open. Someday we will once again need to study Mr. Ezra Morris…”

THE END