“Can… Can it fly?” I said.
“Yes. It has some damage but nothing that can’t be fixed.”
I didn’t know what else to say.
What else was there to say?
“Would you like to see it?” Clint said.
I peered at the ship.
My senses screamed at me not to enter.
It was dangerous.
Otherworldly.
Unknown.
My eyes shifted to Clint and my heart melted.
He was still the same great guy I’d fallen in love with.
He hadn’t changed, even if the situation had.
“Uh, sure,” I said.
He took me by the hand and led me up the ramp.
The lights were bright inside and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust.
The ramp whirred shut behind us.
I couldn’t help but feel trapped.
The hallways that wound out from our location were long and metallic with metal grates underfoot and white walls down either side.
“This way,” Clint said.
I followed his direction down the hall.
Water ran in rivulets and dripped through the grated floor.
The ceiling was sheer white and didn’t drip on us from above.
“Watch this,” Clint said, before turning to the wall. “Computer.”
There was a beeping sound in response.
“Locate the medical bay.”
The lights shifted color to a soft orange.
“Please follow the directions indicated by the light,” a computerized voice said.
“Uh, what was that?” I said.
“It’s Computer. It’s some kind of voice interface so we can talk directly to the computer and issue commands.”
“Does being here help with your memories?” I said.
“No. But it’s something Computer says can be fixed with the machines in the medical bay. I thought I should go there and see if it can heal me.”
I nodded, feeling very uncertain in this place.
We followed the lights and I glanced down the corridors at every crossroad.
More hallways unfurled, stretching as far as the eye could see.
I wondered just how big this ship was.
The medical bay was a fairly small area with a bunch of chambers with glass walls.
Inside each was a chair that could recline like in a dentist’s office.
My mouth felt dry at seeing it.
All I could think of was anal probing…
I squeezed Clint’s hand.
“I don’t want you to do it,” I said.
“Computer can fix my memories. I’ll be able to remember everything.”
“What if it’s bad? What if the government control it and wipe away your memories of the past few days?”
Listen to me, I thought. I sounded like I should be wearing a straitjacket.
“Nothing bad will happen to me,” Clint said.
He raised a hand to my cheek and gently kissed me.
“You don’t know that,” I said. “I let you swim down to the ship to bring it up. You did that. I could have lost you. I don’t want to take that risk again.”
“There’s no risk. I promise you.”
I shuffled my feet, glanced at the reclining chair, and shook my head.
“Listen,” Clint said. “I’m going to have the procedure and I’ll remember everything. Then we can take care of Liam and be together. But first I have to use this machine.”
I gnawed on my bottom lip like a dog with a bone.
“I don’t like it. What if you forget about me?”
Clint’s smile broadened into a grin.
“Forget about you? How could I? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Listen to me. Everything’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”
Despite his certainty, he failed to convince me, but if he was determined to use the machine anyway, what could I do?
“Can I sit and watch?” I said.
“Sure. And keep your lips ready for when the procedure is over. If I do forget, that little memento will bring the memories flooding back for sure.”
I took a seat on a hard plastic seat and watched as Clint climbed into the reclining chair.
“What appears to be the problem?” Computer said.
“I have amnesia,” Clint said. “I lost my memories when the ship crashed and I want them back.”
“Scanning. Please wait.”
An arm descended from the ceiling and ran over Clint from head to toe.
“Scan complete. Analyzing results.”
It was less than two seconds later when Computer spoke again.
“I have identified the problem. The procedure is quick and simple. Would you like to proceed?”
Clint peered over at me.
He must have seen the fear in my eyes.
Maybe that was why he said:
“I will love you forever and always. Nothing can change that. Not even amnesia.”
It thawed my concerns a little but I still felt tight about the procedure.
Clint leaned back and nodded his head.
“Do it.”
The chair spun around and lowered so Clint lay flat on his back.
Multiple metal arms, like the legs of a spider, descended from the ceiling, each sporting a different tool.
Initially, my imagination took them for scalpels and saws to get to his brain, but upon closer inspection, they glowed a multitude of colors in a variety of different lasers.
“Please try not to move,” Computer said.
Then the arms dropped down and began their work.
It was like watching a perfectly orchestrated dance.
The arms moved in unison as if they were part of the same organism.
With Computer in charge, I supposed that was true.
The arms never made contact, no movement was ever misjudged, or misplaced.
And no incision was ever made.
The devices moved around Clint’s head in gentle arcs, flashing their lasers.
I wondered if they were even doing anything until I considered where modern medicine was heading back home.
Non-obtrusive technology was at the very cutting edge.
It was only logical that would be the direction in the future.
Future.
Was that what I was witnessing?
Or was it something more?
I watched, enrapt, as the dance suddenly stopped, the arms drew back and then retracted into the ceiling.
Clint lay there a moment, not moving.
My heart was in my throat.
Had it been a success?
Would he remember who I was?
The emotions we had for each other?
I drifted up from my seat before I knew what I was doing and slowly approached the reclining chair.
“Clint? Did it work? Can you remember?”
His eyes were shut as I approached.
I watched as his eyes moved frantically beneath his eyelids.
“Clint?”
Another outcome suddenly hit me.
Messing with the brain could cause terrible issues.
What if the process reduced him to a gibbering mess?
What if he ended up confined
