Transmission: Ragnarok: Book Two by John Meaney Page A

– rather than what happened in Labyrinth; but that was good enough.
    ‘I thought so,’ said Dr Keele. ‘I understand you grew up on Fulgor.’
    How could she know that?
    From Alisha’s memories
.
    That was disturbing.
    ‘So,’ added Dr Keele, ‘you’ll know about potentiation, including long-term memory formation.’
    ‘Yes, I— Why?’
    But after discussions about Dad’s induced amnesia, he had a premonition before Dr Keele confirmed the nature of Alisha’s treatment.
    ‘We’re using full cognitive rollback,’ she said. ‘The process was largely complete, which was why she looked so calm just now. I wanted confirmation that we could proceed to the optimum potentiation boundary. Taking out entire waking days is always best.’
    He should not have gone with Leeja. He should not even have talked to her.
    ‘Could you explain that, please?’ he said.
    ‘The boundary is before her first meeting with someone called Helsen. From her neuroassociative mapping results, this Helsen was tied up causally with the Stargonier woman who carried out the neural assault.’
    Dr Keele swallowed, no longer professionally calm.
    ‘Law enforcement officials have already scanned everything,’ she went on. ‘I’m sure you can appreciate why.’
    Given what had happened on Fulgor, Roger would have been surprised if they had done anything else, regardless of privacy laws.
    ‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘The day Alisha met Helsen was my first day on—’
    He remembered sitting on the circular balcony that overlooked the campus. Seeing Alisha for the first time – and, across the plaza, Helsen and the bearded man with her: both darkness-haunted.
    Helsen, the bitch who had killed his world.
    ‘Exactly why I needed to gauge your degree of emotional attachment,’ said Dr Keele. ‘If you wish to get to know Alisha Spalding again, you will have to begin all over as a stranger.’
    He forced his attention back to the moment. ‘You don’t sound like someone who’s negotiating, Doctor.’
    ‘The treatment is already complete, save for final integrity checks.’
    Like a finishing glaze or varnish on archaic craftwork, the main creation complete.
    ‘So if I walk in now’ – he gestured to the blank wall – ‘she’ll not recognize me.’
    Dr Keele just looked at him.
    I get it. You already told me that much
.
    On holodramas, medics were good-looking and empathic. But this, now, was not the severest lesson in reality to have hit him lately.
    ‘You think I let her down,’ he added. ‘Is that it?’
    Her nostrils flared, as if picking up the scent of recent sex.
    ‘Your moral standards are up to you.’
    ‘But I don’t know if she had any feelings for me at all. All I really know—’
    Dr Keele’s head-shake was tiny, a micro-expression.
    Shit
.
    But coming from someone adept at reading the stuff of thought from scans, it formed a clear and authoritative signal.
    Alisha was in love with me
.
    Past tense, and now something further removed: Alisha’s emotions belonged to an alternate subjective reality cut off and discarded, just as old-time surgeons might have snipped out an appendix and tossed the organ aside.
    And if he walked in to see Alisha now, what would he say?
    Hi, I’m the guy who pulled you out of the brothel where you’d been servicing that fat old guy with the dripping dick. Remember him? No, I guess you don’t
.
    Arcs of tension bracketed his mouth.
    ‘I’m sure you think you’ve done the right thing,’ he said. ‘Why don’t we leave it at—’
    Scarlet holo icons streamed at eye-level between them.
    ‘That’s a security alarm,’ said Dr Keele.
    ‘You get security emergencies in the med-halls? How often does—?’
    Her face was stony.
    ‘I’ve never known it to happen.’
    Dr Keele rushed out, Roger striding after. She ran to a large therapy room and stopped, breathing hard in the doorway. Inside, the room was largely empty. As a group of junior medics trotted up, Dr Keele turned on