Fri. Sep 20th, 2024

by

MICHAEL ROSS HARTMAN

Interesting, thought old Hunter Vegas, as he watched a recording of a funeral procession retrieved recently from a recollection device. He smiled as he surveyed the scene, seeing and hearing a friend of his, Father Sean O’Brian, make a comment. The Irishman, wearing a robe as the official representative for the priesthood, remarked under his breath ‘… ’tis a shame, they could have given a proper-sized casket, don’t you ’tink …?’ There was laughter at that. When O’Brian began his eulogy, he started swearing at those present. Hunter paused the recording.

Standing behind him watching the display was Jackie Rai, a young gold digger who decided to comment. “The priest put on a good show, I thought,” she offered, moving forward, placing her hand on his shoulder, and sitting down next to him. “So real, you can almost feel his compassion,” she added. There was a pause as she expected a response, and when there was none, she continued. “His outburst was directed at the thugs who did this, very brave of him.” There was tension in the proceedings, and that excited her. She slid a hand up Hunter’s thigh to let him understand her expectation. “What surprised me the most is Jason Dunn. If you watch carefully, he is leaving.”

Hunter lowered his eyes and replied. “O’Brian’s concerns were genuine. He did well under the circumstances.” He reached forward and backtracked the film, pausing it at the moment that Jackie had identified. “Would you say we have found our perpetrator? However, I find it hard to believe he would be entangled in such an elaborate ruse.” The film was displaying a man moving rapidly away, a clear indication that something was about to happen. Jackie attempted an answer. “Jay is not smart. If it is him, an accomplice is involved. Another thing, why here at this funeral? Your poor niece, so talented … and so … dead.” She stared at Hunter and queried, “It is your niece’s funeral, isn’t it?” When Hunter shook his head, she glanced back at the projection. “Oh? So, where is she?”

Hunter answered. “A good question. Josie cannot be found. No-one realized she had abilities.” He smiled, though there was no mirth in the gesture. Jackie frowned. “What about him?” she asked, glancing back at the projection, still showing the illusive Jason. “Perhaps Josie and Jay were in this together? She is young, perfect for him. Just the kind of thing she enjoys.” Jackie was referring to a suspected union between the two. Her arousal at the possibility very clear.

Hunter shifted away, ignoring her distractions. “That is a possibility, knowing her. The girl has an appetite. I will have to ask my sister about it.” He stood, going back to the reader and allowed the projection to continue. He watched O’Brian’s outburst until the film ended displaying an explosion ripping outwards from the casket. After a long pause, Jackie remarked, “It took us a while to get that together.”

Hearing that, Hunter closed his eyes and prepared himself for what he had to do. After a short while he turned and faced the woman. “You made one mistake. Do you understand what it was?” Jackie stared up at him. “Does it matter? Would you tell me anyway?” Hunter sighed. “Perhaps not. You will have to try again.” He raised a sidearm he held in his hand, pointed the barrel at her, and pulled the trigger. She collapsed and shuddered while he lowered himself next to her, letting the gun drop onto the floor. How many times had it been now? He lost count, but every time hurt as badly as the first. He realized a while ago that these were simulations forced into his mind, but the ones involving Josie and Jackie went deep. He looked at her now and noticed her face changing, her features transforming; someone older this time. He sighed as his memory faded, knowing a new scene would begin soon.

Josie removed her mind probe from her uncle and swore. In front of her, plugged into a life support unit, was what was left of him. His legs and lower torso were missing; however, his mind was intact. The hospital monitor readings were showing he would not be alive much longer, perhaps an hour at most. She always understood Hunter would be a tough nut to crack, and the last simulation she forced into his mind had proved the point. She must have fabricated nearly a hundred different scenarios over the last few hours to open him up, and in each one, he had managed to find a way to counteract her offering. Still, this time the old man had interacted more than previously, particularly when she used herself and Jackie in the scenes. She decided to try again, but this time from a new perspective. It would still be the same funeral procession, but with a change in focus. She concentrated and entered his mind once more, forcing a new simulation to begin.

Hunter sat bemused, watching the recording as before, but this time the projection was not showing O’Brian, but himself as the officiant. Four pallbearers were holding up a coffin, with extras waiting around. As the bearers advanced, Hunter watched himself turn when there was a burst of laughter behind him. He appeared startled as he recognized a young woman, perhaps nineteen years old, grinning at him. “Josie?” he queried, puzzled. He blinked and frowned, producing a sidearm from under his robe. He hesitated, stared again, pointed the weapon at her, and pulled the trigger. The old man averted his eyes, not able to watch any longer.

Hunter felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Jackie standing there. “Not easy watching that,” she remarked, pausing the projection for him. She was older this time. “I remembered you and that priest; you both would not be separated. Something was binding you, like you realized what would happen to you later in life.” Hunter did not move as she sat down next to him. He listened as she spoke again. “I have always wondered where your sister was that day? Josie was there, but not your sister.” She paused, looking at the display showing Josie falling back. “Why did you shoot her? Was she such a burden? Perhaps if you tell me where she is, I may be able to help her?” Hunter put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. When he looked up again, he answered, “Jackie, we both know I will not let you near her.” He stood, gazing at her before pointing the gun at his own temple this time and pulling the trigger.

Hunter was broken. He did not know for how long he had been doing this. Had it been years? Days? Moments? Then he perceived some clarity, he was awake. In front of him was Josie, alive and real. He stared at her and asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?” The young woman smiled and shook her head. “No, uncle. Your psyche keeps killing those you know. This last try was a shocker. Shooting yourself? That took courage. I never saw that coming. You do understand I will force my way past your memory lock one way or another, don’t you? The variations in your mind are diverse, but they always resolve down to a central theme to escape.” She stared at him and asked, “Uncle? Why not just give me what I want?” Hunter declined the request and sensed his consciousness receding, knowing she was taking control of him once more.

This time it was evening, and he was sitting chatting around a fire with Josie, recounting reasons why he had fitted a membrane film into his neck. He turned to her saying, “My memory was getting frail, and I needed the recording device to keep track. The problem is, with the recorder installed, I felt my experiences were not my own. Like I was corrupted almost.” When he did not say anything further, Josie responded. “I can understand that. New users of the personal recording technology always struggle. I remember there was a peculiar flavor in one of your memories. Almost like your mind had drifted towards a blight of some kind. I thought nothing of it until you began to shoot versions of Jackie or myself in my simulations. Sometimes minds do that. Make stuff up. Sucking up data from when we were children even.” Josie did not say anything further and waited for him to respond. Hunter stared at her and changed the subject. “My thoughts are a little risqué, even for myself. Should you be seeing those?” The young woman laughed. “Your depravities are mild compared to my own, uncle. Don’t worry, you are not the first to have questionable pleasures.” Hunter smiled faintly and shuddered as Josie disconnected her mind from his.

Now in reality, Josie realized time was short. She could see her uncle’s heart fibrillating on the monitors, his eyes losing coordination. She realized she only had a few chances left to get what she wanted from him. She decided to ramp things up. Josie steadied herself, this would not be easy, even for her. Still, it had to be done. She extended her ability into her uncle’s mind once again, triggering the next simulation.

Jackie was young, nearly eight years old. She stood in front of him, pouting, one hand on her hip, the other behind her back. “You can’t have it! It’s mine!” Hunter frowned at her and lowered himself to her height, putting his hands on his thighs to balance himself. He asked, “I don’t want it. I just want to watch it. Would that be okay?” The girl stared at him, coming to a decision. “Okay. But I want to put it in!” The old man nodded. “Do you understand how?” he asked. “Perhaps I —” Before he was able to finish, the girl jumped up, putting a thin film cartridge she had been holding behind her back into a reader, turning it on, and coming back to sit next to him. The scene was a children’s party set up around a large table in a garden. On a table were balloons, cakes, soda’s, plastic cups, glitter, and sweets, all neatly laid out and ready for the children once they arrived. Hunter turned to look at young Jackie clapping her hands in glee. He wanted to ask her if this was her birthday celebration when he realized something was wrong. Away to the side a child lay shaking on the grass, her face blue, choking on something she had swallowed. Hunter jumped up not realizing his focus had shifted. He was no longer watching the scene but was in it rushing towards her. He bent down to help and stopped; he knew this girl! Hunter lifted a sidearm, his hands trembling, and shot her twice, forcing the scene to reset once more.

Josie put her head in her hands to stop them from shaking. She realized Hunter’s end was very near and she had to be careful he did not die while she was still linked with him. If that happened, the chances are she would perish with him. She decided this would be her last attempt. If she failed, his enterprise passcodes would be lost and that was something she could not allow. She focused and entered the dying man’s mind once more.

Hunter realized something had changed by the motion, the limousine was slowing down. Across from him sat Jackie Rai looking out the window as the vehicle started inching its way forward through a crowd. People were banging against the transport, voicing their anger and displeasure. Jackie did not turn but said, “The workers will attempt to kill you if you try to cross their picket line, you do know that don’t you?” Hunter nodded and added, “I have made my decision.” There was silence. Jackie turned to face him. “Many will starve, they have a right to protest.” Hunter did not respond. After a short while the limousine stopped, and a voice came over the vehicle’s intercom saying that they had arrived. Looking outside, police were attempting to form a corridor and Hunter readied himself to leave. When the door opened, there was a shout, and a grenade bounced into the limousine. The explosion split Hunter, blowing the top half of his body out through the door.

Hunter opened his eyes and realized this had happened. This was not a fabrication. It was fortunate the top half of his body had been covered by body armor saving half of him. He understood that in recalling this memory, Josie must have gained access to his real recollections. What puzzled him was how she had done it? She was sitting waiting across from him, so he decided to speak first, his voice frail but clear. “I tried to resist you, in vain it seems.” Josie smiled, taking over the dialogue. “You made a mistake. Do you know what it was?” He shook his head, realizing she was paraphrasing him from a scene earlier. He offered a guess. “The choking girl?” Josie nodded, impressed. “She was my mother and you saved her that day. But, in my simulation, you did not. You chose to kill her knowing that would force me to reset. When you shot her twice, I realized she was a key you did not want me to see. When I accessed the nickname you gave her, your memory lock opened, and I gained access to your company passcodes and memories. Your corporation is now mine. This will be a start of a new beginning, uncle. My beginning, actually.”

Josie switched off the life support unit after her statement, relieved she had managed to open his memories before he died. She carefully removed his recollection film from its interface on the back of his neck, placing the thin sheet into her bag. When the lights monitoring her uncle’s brain activity stopped, she picked up a phone on a table next to him and called the private hospital’s reception, asking them to put her uncle’s head and torso into a casket she had prepared, and to send it on to the burial site. All going well, she would arrive there to witness the final burial of what was left of the old man.

Josie checked her dress and placed her bag under her arm, feeling relieved. Hunter’s dementia had kicked in years ago, triggered after the untimely death of his lover, Jackie Rai. The extraordinary woman had died in her sleep, but Hunter still believed she was alive. In his mind she had stayed with him right until his end. Josie sighed as she got up to go. The scenes she had generated were designed to trigger memory fragments to try and find the key to decrypting his memory lock. This was difficult, as somehow his mind knew this, and mentally killed off her perpetrators as soon as he realized the scenes were false. Josie understood to get them back again, his mind needed to be triggered into a new scene each time. Deciding to leave before the orderlies arrived, she closed the door to his ward behind her, and started walking down the corridor, searching in her bag for her vehicle’s keys. When she found them, she remembered what she said about a new beginning. Jason Dunn would be pleased.

Michael Ross Hartman +27 82 920 2452 / +27 83 776 8219 mikeht49@gmail.com  7 William Road, Elma Park X3, Edenvale, Johannesburg, South Africa, 1609

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