The Memory Thieves

by Darren Simpson

  Cyan mouthed a silent curse. The gloom lifted by a hue and he saw that the thin line beneath the door was brighter. Someone had switched on the corridor lights.

  The clop of shoes sent him scrabbling on hands and knees across the floor. He took cover behind a bench that curved in an L-shape around the coffee table. His breaths came short and shallow, and he threw a hand over his mouth when the staffroom door opened.

  The door closed. A quiet click flooded the room with light.

  Cyan squinted through the gap between the floor and the bench’s base. He could see two shoes by the door, beneath the stiff hems of white trousers. It was an orderly.

  Staying as still and quiet as he could, Cyan watched while the shoes moved slowly through the room, following the wall, drawing closer to the coffee table and bench. His stomach tightened with each kick of his heart. The orderly was almost upon him.

  He was on the cusp of crying out when something stopped the shoes in their tracks: a dull thump against the wall, from the next room along.

  The shoes pivoted and went back the way they’d come. The moment the door closed, Cyan collapsed sideways onto the floor. He was gasping for air when he realized where the orderly was heading.

  “Ruby!” he breathed, scrabbling to his feet. Moving lightly on his plimsolls, he followed the orderly’s path to the door, eased the handle down and peeked into the corridor. There was no sign of anyone, but when he leaned further through the doorway, he caught sight of the next door along closing.

  His hands flew into his hair. After clenching his eyes shut, he nodded to himself, stepped into the corridor and began tiptoeing towards the door.

  “Psst.”

  The sound came from behind. Cyan spun on his feet and saw Ruby pop up behind a trolley stacked with uniforms. His mouth fell open and he jerked his thumb towards the door.

  “Orderly!” he mouthed. “In there!”

  “I know!” mouthed Ruby in return. “Let’s go!” She gestured wildly towards the door to the stairwell.

  Half-creeping, half-dashing, Cyan joined her in a scurry for the stairwell, but was startled when someone clutched the hem of his blazer.

  He twisted with his arms flying up and saw with some confusion that it was Ruby who’d grabbed him. She snatched the torch from his hand and slotted it carefully into its socket by the technician’s room. Cyan’s mouth formed an O, and they continued on their run, until they were out of the corridor and up the stairs. The pair of them panted together, crouched between cogs on the engine floor.

  Ruby flicked some curls stuck with sweat to her forehead. “Did…” she puffed, but she had to stop. She put a hand to her chest and took deep breaths. “The orderly – did he see you?”

  Cyan shook his head. “No. Was close, though. Really close. A noise from next door made him leave.” He wiped the side of his hand across his upper lip. “What was that? The thump – I thought it must be you. But you were in the corridor.”

  “It was me. I went looking for you in the last room on your side when I heard something smash, and then the light went on in the corridor. Then I heard someone go to the room the noise came from, but it stayed quiet, so I figured you’d broken something and were hiding. I banged the wall – you know, to create a distraction – then ran out and hid behind the trolley. Thought the orderly might investigate the noise – give us a chance to get away.”

  Cyan stared at her and puffed up his cheeks. “Man alive, Ruby. You’re a genius.” Wincing, he bowed and shook his head. “I messed up, though. It’ll be hard to search the staff floor again. They’ll be on their guard now.”

  Ruby’s eyebrows sank. “So what was that noise? Did you break something?”

  “Tripped on a coffee table. Knocked over a stack of glasses.”

  Ruby looked appalled. “What happened to stealthy ninja cat?”

  “Ninja cat got a shock.”

  “A shock?”

  “I saw something in the orderlies’ staffroom. There were sheets on a board, one for each resident, with photos, personality profiles, behavioural tendencies – stuff like that.”

  “What?” Ruby glanced down and up again. “Did you see mine?”

  “I did. But reading it felt…like prying, I guess. And I was more interested in Jonquil’s sheet. No offence.”

  Ruby’s eyes widened. “There was one for Jonquil?”

  “Yeah. With a red stamp on it that said WITHDRAWN, in big capital letters. But she wasn’t the only one.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Cyan screwed his eyes shut. “There were loads of them, Ruby. Loads of residents with WITHDRAWN stamped on them. At least twenty. And apart from Jonquil, I didn’t recognize any of them.”

  Ruby shuffled closer. She was barely breathing. “Wait… Are you saying…”

  Cyan nodded. “Yeah. Jonquil’s not the only one. There’re loads of residents who’ve been removed from the sanctuary and from our memories. Probably because they’ve all been hurt by the treatment, just like Jonquil. More of Dr Haven’s casualties.”

  Ruby’s gaze drifted to the metal gangway. “Oh my god.”

  “And one of them was called Amber,” continued Cyan. “I think she might be Ruth – the one who left that message in the Serenity and on the bones.”

  Ruby’s eyes shot back up. “Amber? As in…like, traffic lights?”

  “Yeah. Between green and red. So Amber – I mean, Ruth – she’s one of the residents who’ve been hurt and removed from our memories.”

  Ruby’s hand was over her mouth. “This is big, Cyan. Like, really big.”

  “I know.” Cyan tapped her other hand. “What about you? Did you find anything? Any sign of Jonquil or…or anyone else?”

  Ruby shook her head.

  “What about the room with white tiles? Was that on your side?”

  “I didn’t see anything like that. After the first room there was just a laundry room and then a massive food larder. The last room was some sort of living space, with sofas and tables and stuff, and loads more doors around the edges.”

  Cyan looked sideways while visualizing. “The staff‘s living quarters. Those doors lead to their bedrooms. You can see them through the windows outside.”

  “That’s what I thought. And the last room on your side, where I knocked on the wall – that was just pipes and boilers. I peeked into the lift as well. It’s massive, but nothing unusual. I don’t—”

  Something stopped her: the dull echo of shoes on concrete, coming from the doorway to the stairwell.

  “Someone’s coming!” hissed Ruby.

  Cyan was already on his feet. “Meet me at the whale bones! Tomorrow!”

  They turned from each other and fled in opposite directions. Cyan ducked past gangways to reach his ladder, and soon found shelter in a darkened shaft.

  “Mum! Dad!”

  Cyan woke and sat bolt upright in his bed. He put a trembling hand to his throat, which felt sore from the scream just torn from his lungs.

  He looked groggily from left to right, taking in the book on his bedside table; the potted sea holly on the shelves; the fluffy beanbag and bright orange lamp; the room’s frame with its four shadowy snugs.

  Cyan wondered where the cry had come from – had he been dreaming? – and whispered hoarsely to no one. “Mum?”

  A rush of heat prickled his eyelids, burning so fiercely he had to shut his eyes and push his palms against them. While they were closed, Cyan shivered on the bed and tried to remember something – anything at all – about his parents. He squeezed his eyes shut even harder, willing something to come to him, searching the darkness behind his eyelids.

  But there was nothing. No hint of a voice, no trace of a face. No scent or softness, no warmth nor touch.

  Nothing except the dry sting of his eyes.

  Still trembling, Cyan collapsed back onto the mattress, pulled the pillow from beneath his head and hugged it as tightly as he could.

  Cyan had no appetite but – in an attempt to look normal a
nd avoid suspicion – he got dressed and plodded to the canteen when his locket called him for breakfast.

  There was no sign of Ruby or Teal; they must have got different breakfast shifts. So Cyan sat alone and played with his cereal, being sure to check no one was looking when he palmed the morning’s pills into his satchel.

  He was keen to get to the whale bones to meet Ruby, so after a short while he left the canteen, crossed the foyer and hit the marble steps beyond the revolving door. He was about to break into a run, but faltered when someone called his name.

  He followed the sound and saw Teal getting up from the bottom step. “Ahoy, Teal.”

  Teal brushed sand from his hands. “Where were you yesterday? Couldn’t find you anywhere. Ruby neither.”

  “Er…”

  “What d’you fancy doing today?”

  Cyan winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t hang around, Teal. Got some…stuff to do.”

  Teal headed up the steps towards him. “Stuff? What stuff? You want me to help out?”

  Cyan chewed his bottom lip. “Actually, it’s better if… I just… I need to…” The more Cyan mumbled and rubbed his neck, the more Teal’s eyebrows sank.

  “Why’re you making excuses? You don’t what to hang out?”

  “It’s not like that. More like…”

  Teal shoved his hands into his blazer pockets. “Are you going to see Ruby? Were you with each other yesterday?”

  “Um… Maybe?”

  “What were you doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  Teal was nodding sternly. “Nothing, but something you want me left out of, right?”

  Cyan held his palms up, cringing. “We’re not leaving you out of anything, I promise. We’ll hang out later, yeah?”

  Teal shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe you guys don’t deserve Teal time.”

  Cyan couldn’t resist a slight smile. “Teal time? Is that what you call it?”

  “Smirk all you want, Cyan, but you’re the one missing out. So go on.” He wafted Cyan away like a bad smell. “Off you go. You’ve got stuff to do.”

  After throwing Teal a pained look, Cyan touched his arm and darted down the steps. He turned and jogged backwards to face him. “I’ll make it up to you! I promise!”

  Even from a distance, Cyan could see Teal’s surly expression waning. He had no doubt that a thousand anxieties were passing through his friend’s mind. Cursing himself, he turned away and continued towards the hangar, keen to find a quad that would get him to the bones.

  A little later, Cyan sat alone between strips of shadow. He stared out from behind mammoth ribs, scanning the sandscape for signs of movement. Eventually he clocked a quad crossing the dunes, heading in his direction, closing in quick. Brown curls caught the sun, and Cyan’s fists stopped their clenching.

  He’d been waiting at the bones for about an hour.

  An hour?

  His eyebrows rose. Cyan felt strangely sure of how much time had passed. He looked up and winced at the sun, which had made some headway along its daily arc. He studied the brightening blue of the sky, then lowered his gaze to watch the dunes’ shrinking shadows.

  Yes. About an hour.

  “Ahoy.” Ruby waved half-heartedly from her quad, hung up her goggles and crossed some beach grass.

  “Ahoy.”

  As she passed through gaping jaws of bone, Cyan pondered the sour, determined look on her face. Where did Ruby get it from – all that spirit and fire? Thinking back to what she’d told him in the framework, he wondered whether it was something to do with the feelings of abandonment she’d mentioned. Some sort of balance or reaction. Or maybe it came from her upbringing. From her mum and dad.

  Cyan was overcome by a sudden, almost painful urge to ask Ruby about her past. He ached to know what her parents did for a living, what they were like as people. But he realized immediately that asking would be pointless. Ruby knew as much about her old life as he did about his: absolutely nothing at all.

  She stopped in front of him, dropped her satchel and brushed sand from her lapel. Today’s uniform was black. “How you holding up?”

  A listless doff of Cyan’s imaginary cap. “Shipshape. And you?”

  Ruby shrugged. “Not great. Turns out ignorance really is bliss.”

  “Don’t be fooled. Ignorance is dangerous.”

  Ruby perched herself beside her satchel. While crossing her legs, she reached into her pocket and pulled out some pills.

  Cyan watched her bury them in sand. “You’re dodging your doses too?”

  Ruby smoothed the sand over. “There’re twenty-odd residents somewhere who’ve been horribly damaged by the treatment, hidden away and wiped from our memories. Makes sense to cut back on the medicine.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Has anyone talked to you today?”

  “Not beyond the usual ahoys and pleasantries. What about you? Has anyone mentioned last night?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I guess that’s something.”

  Ruby frowned uneasily. “I guess so.” She drummed her fingers against a jittery knee. “We’re going to need help, aren’t we.”

  “Obviously. But who’s going to help us?”

  Ruby gazed in the sanctuary’s direction. “Do you think we should tell Teal after all?”

  Cyan thought about his recent encounter with Teal on the steps. He sighed and shook his head. “No. I mean, I hate leaving him out, but getting him involved is too risky. I told you what Dr Haven said about him. Telling him about the danger he’s in could tip him over the edge. I don’t want to see any more friends go through what Jonquil went through.”

  Ruby gave this some thought, then began to nod. “Fair enough.”

  “So we’re back to the same question. Who’s going to help us?”

  Ruby rubbed her nose. She was looking between the bones now, with her eyes fixed to the south. “Whoever we can find. This is too big for us to handle alone.” She pointed through the ribs. “I say we head that way and keep going.”

  “But there’s nothing out there, Ruby. Just more sand. You can see it all from the top of the Serenity.”

  “So let’s go further. We’ve never kept going before. There was never any reason to. But now there is. And there’s got to be someone. There’s got to be something. That’s the way the hovercraft comes in. The helicopter too.”

  Cyan followed Ruby’s gaze, then lifted his eyes to the clouds, which hung like grey blimps over the dunes.

  “What do you think?” asked Ruby.

  Cyan got up and clapped sand from his trousers. He headed for the quads. “I think we’ve got nothing to lose.”

  When they’d both snapped on their goggles, Ruby called out over the hum of engines. “Last one there’s a rotten egg?”

  Both quads snarled in chorus.

  “Last one where?” shouted Cyan.

  Ruby nodded at the horizon. “I guess we’ll find out!” She yanked the throttle and her quad surged ahead.

  * * *

  What started as a race soon became a slog; a marathon with a finish line Cyan wasn’t sure existed.

  On and on they went, throttles at full tilt, the roars of two engines reduced to an endless drone. The tilted, towering Serenity dwindled in their wake, smaller than it had ever been before. They’d never been so far out on the sands. This was new territory.

  And yet it wasn’t. On and on they went, wordless and grim. The only thing that changed was the sky above their heads. Clouds gathered and the air began to dim. The sands remained the same, unfolding towards a horizon that was eternally unmoving, endlessly unbroken.

  Cyan knew he was moving, and at decent speed. Rusting shipwrecks approached and flew by. The bones of large fish crunched beneath his tyres. His blazer flapped and flailed, and airborne grit caught in his nostrils and teeth. But he felt motionless. The horizon remained where it was, no matter how straight and fast he went. He was stuck on a treadmill of dunes, moving quickly but boun
d for nowhere.

  Glancing across at Ruby, Cyan could see she felt the same. Her russet hair writhed around her goggles, whipping a face that looked more bored than resolved.

  And then, as one and without warning, the quad bikes slowed down.

  Cyan and Ruby exchanged looks. They checked their fuel gauges, released their handles, then revved again. But the quads continued to decelerate. Their engines spluttered, and both bikes – without any say-so from their riders – rolled to a stop.

  They were stranded on the sands.

  Ruby pulled uselessly at her throttle. “What happened?” She tapped her fuel gauge. “My tank’s still half-full.”

  “Mine too.”

  They sat in silence, checking their quads’ dashboards. Cyan looked up towards the horizon, then twisted on his seat to squint in the direction from which they’d come.

  Raindrops began to patter his face. A wave of tiredness rushed in and he felt an urge to lie forward against his quad – to close his eyes and never open them again. But the feeling went as quickly as it came, washed away by thoughts of Jonquil, Amber and all the others.

  He massaged his neck, which still ached from the cry that had left his throat that morning, and felt some strength returning.

  “Hang on,” he said, climbing off his seat. Heaving from the front, he pushed the quad back along the tracks it had churned in the sand. Then he climbed on and tried the ignition. The engine trembled and broke into a steady purr.

  Easing the throttle, Cyan edged the quad slowly forward. As soon as it neared Ruby’s, the engine clicked off and the bike stopped again. He shrugged at Ruby and gazed north. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  Ruby followed his gaze, back in the direction of the sanctuary. “The quads have got limited range. They’re programmed to turn off at a certain point.”

  “Bullseye. Someone doesn’t want residents going out too far.”

  Ruby nodded slowly. The raindrops thickened. “So what do we do?”

  “There’s only two choices. We continue on foot, or we turn back.”

  Ruby peered at the dunes rolling southward to the skyline. “Sounds more like one choice to me. There’s still nothing out there. Nothing we can see or reach by foot, anyway.”