World War III turned out so much worse than the prior two that despite everyone having seen it coming, the world was still, predictably, unable to react in a way to stop it. The weeks beforehand were filled with terrifying reports of violence in the middle east. The years prior had occasionally featured news articles on the growing water crisis over the entire area. When summer hit, and temperatures were ten degrees higher than the worst day the year before? And those temperatures persisted for a week? Everyone started killing each other. Nobody in the global community did anything about it.
Then, the Colorado River ran dry. Nobody in the government of the US lived long enough to do anything about it. We in the other parts of the world, again, sat back and watched the nation burn.
-Owner and CEO of Kishibe Solutions Group (2031)
Mari, Age 19:
The memory restoration process.
It was a concept that served as a sword of damocles over the heads of every last one of the cloned children from Mari’s cohort. Reality was different from the rumors, which she barely was able to think about before more items were added to consideration. It was overwhelming, and she’d always been bad at handling multiple things at once.
“Allow me to think for a few minutes, please.” Marielle’s response was quiet, showing the timid cowardice that had been beaten into her by her classmates despite the efforts of adults to curb the prejudices that lingered amongst the liberated population.
“Of course. Take your time. We don’t want to steal from you your autonomy. Doing so would go against all we have stood for since the Empire fell.” Wovren’s consent was a comforting one, and despite his civilian status as a former representative, none of the proper figures of authority contested that statement.
Mari cast a hopeful look at Kris, pleading with her eyes. She needed someone to act as her sounding board, and there was only one person present that she might consider a friend with a perspective beyond unconditional support. As much as Wilke was a friend, he simply didn’t express anything he thought might be difficult for her to hear. She wouldn’t call him a sycophant, but he certainly stuck to his own biases.
Thankfully, Kris nodded at her silently, then stood up and left the room in the direction of the entryway. Mari followed, then quietly passed through the house and into the sitting room at the opposite end of the home. The room only had a pair of benches to sit on, and the glass ceiling opened up to the stars that shone down on them, the closest moon barely casting rays in as it crested the cliffs that flanked the city.
The decor had a gentle vibe, full of flowers and vines that had been artfully sculpted by Constance to create an atmosphere for receiving guests. You could host a small gathering of roughly ten people comfortably in the room, which was why seating was rather sparse. Usually, one was meant to stand.
Together, they sat beneath an archway of purple flowers for a few moments, each respectfully distant on opposite ends of the bench.
“How can I help you?” Kris finally spoke, and her voice might’ve been purely businesslike, but Mari wasn’t very good at getting emotion from voices. Her interactions with others were usually limited to disappointing them in some way, or being bullied for one reason or another.
“I’m not even sure where to begin.” Mari murmured, her voice trembling.
“Let’s start with the facts and process those one by one, okay?” Kris waited several seconds, and Mari finally nodded, so she continued. “Let’s get this out of the way first. You’re not a clone of anyone who caused the suffering of the people of this world. You’re supposed to be someone else, and you’re a victim just like any of us are. So, are you angry? Your condition could be the result of someone else’s horrid experiment. You should consider how that makes you feel.”
Mari nodded, and focused on that topic. How did she feel about knowing that? Was she angry? Probably not. She’d spent so long feeling like she deserved whatever happened to her that she couldn’t bring herself to instantly cast that self-hatred aside and redirect towards anger. If anything, she just felt relieved.
And she said as much. “I feel… like a weight is off my shoulders. I’m glad I didn’t cause any harm to the people around me. But looking at that file… I was still a killer. I likely did ruin lives at some point, and that probably is an understatement.”
“Let’s not jump into that yet. You came from another world entirely. I’m familiar with the history of our intergalactic trade era. I think everyone is familiar with the things that made our whole planet a pariah on the galactic stage. I can’t imagine how your people came into contact with the empire, but your predecessor was a leader. She was trusted by all the other people aboard their ship, right?”
Mari scoffed at that. She certainly didn’t feel like a leader. She had seen the file and found zero similarities between the two of them. “Will some replaced memories somehow make me measure up to her? A hero?”
“That’s… probably the wrong way to think about it. Our world is in danger, even if it is distant for now. Your predecessor’s memories could give valuable insight into the sort of threat we see on a distant horizon. I know you prefer to help people. I believe that once you sort out the details in your head about all these revelations, you’d give yourself up to protect others. That’s what worries me. We should really be talking about the risks involved.”
Mari liked the way Kris would always try to help her sort through the details, just to help her think about the important parts with a clear head. “In that case, what are the risks? What do you know about memory procedures?”
“I am not an expert, but I know the basics… Normally, memories are fed to a clone in smaller pieces that are designed to steadily restore the person involved. This explains the surface level knowledge you had when you were released. The issues begin with Mother’s unwillingness to continue those procedures after you were freed.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Kris had her eyes cast to the ground, a thoughtful expression on her face as she pored over what she’d been taught about the subject. She was always so incredibly thoughtful.
“Studies on the procedures in the past reflected how personality is formed based on the choices made when faced with various factors and challenges. If you come to a crossroads, one person might choose the right path, while another might choose the left. Apply a bias, and some people might take the easier path, while others may take the more difficult one. The reason that clones are often held in stasis until some of their ‘Personality Trait Bearing Memories’ are restored is to prevent the clone from diverging. The goal is to make them more like their predecessor, so allowing them to make their own choices is contrary to that goal.”
Mari felt her blood running cold. She was smart enough to read between the lines. “If I’m nothing like Marielle was, then we’ll have nothing but divergences. I’ve lived my whole life running from challenges. What’ll happen to me?”
Kris remained silent for several long seconds. Finally, she shrugged. “I just don’t know. Like I said, I’m not an expert, but I did a little research on it in the past. It isn’t always the same, but sometimes it creates a break in the personality, leaving two individuals within one body. Sometimes, it just fails and you’ll have brief flashes of memories that leak through, but they won’t properly form into a cognitive difference in who you are. Then there’s any number of things in between those two ends of the spectrum.”
“So I might end up with a split personality, or I could end up with chaotic memory flashes…”
“Or, more likely somewhere in between. Yes.” Kris cast a sidelong glance her way, eyes full of concern. “Those are the risks to you doing what I have a feeling you were always going to do.”
Mari chuckled darkly at that. “Yeah, Kris. Look at me and who I’ve been for fourteen years. I’m not the smartest or the most capable. I help the others because it's all I can do well. If I don’t do this, what is the alternative? Your mom asks every other person in the ward, finding someone else to take the risks in my place? No, Kris. Not them. They have futures, but I’m not very good at anything. I’m here because I’m the logical sacrifice. Of course I’m going to do it.”
Kris raised a hand, reaching out to Mari, only to have it batted away.
“Don’t waste your feelings on me. Give your pity to whoever comes out on the other side of this.” Mari stood, dark red heat burning in her eyes as she discarded every other thought floating in her head. If she could abandon her miserable self and let Marielle take back over, maybe her existence could mean something.
She returned to the dining room, cheeks burning as she realized her words had definitely been loud enough in her outburst that they’d heard them.
“I’ll do it.”
“You’re… not the only one.” Karin winced as Mari immediately realized that Wilke’s seat was empty. “He said he wouldn’t allow you to do it alone. If there was any chance you two had known one another before, he wanted to continue to be a solid presence for you when it all was over. He left so you couldn’t talk him out of it.”
“When?”
Alynne stood up, giving a crisp salute. “Tomorrow. I appreciate the risk you’re choosing to undergo on behalf of our fragile peace.”
And so, everything was scheduled. Regardless of the tears that silently fell in the sitting room.
Alynne chose to walk Mari home after dinner was over.
“Apologies for conducting such business on your birthday. We had delayed and deliberated on the situation for a month already. Are you aware of what I do outside the council?”
“You’re… a technician or something?” Mari actually didn’t know much about the council members beyond their roles in the government.
“Close enough. Specifically, I’m a medical technician. I’ve been working for the past decade to get medical equipment running without needing Sylpharien approval or operation. Along the way, I’ve picked up a lot of medical knowledge as needed. I wanted to properly discuss what my theory is about your condition.”
Mari sighed. A night of revelations indeed.
Alynne let the silence hang for a few more steps.
“The bloodstarving disease is the local term for ‘Sylpharia’s Misery’ across the galaxy. Our ancestors wanted a weapon to prevent other worlds from squeezing this world dry of resources. So they made a bioweapon that turns sapient creatures into blood starved and violent monsters. I believe that it was incomplete. A version of the bioweapon escaped the labs and rapidly spread across the known systems. As you are aware, all people of Sylpharia are oathbound to take actions to cleanse the illness when they are able to. This oath was inflicted upon our ancestors by an Arbiter from another world who is only recorded as the ‘Archmage.’”
Mari may not have been good at history, but she had noticed her peers among the other races had been eerily invested in the subject. Now that she had more context… it made more sense why she and the other humans hadn’t been so enraptured about it.
“Magical societies exist in other parts of the galaxy, and the Archmage placed a deep magical compulsion on our world’s people. On that note, what do you know of magic?” Alynne’s face hardened into a stern expression.
“Almost nothing… besides that Sylpharia is not a particularly magical planet.”
“A lesson, then. Magic is actually a mistake. Rather, what they call mana is a mistake. Uncountable eras ago, a weapon was used that caused a sort of pollution to spread across almost the entire galaxy. This mana warped all of existence on a fundamental level. The more mana exposure, the more lethal. Some worlds have monsters born of exposure to mana, for example.”
“That sounds eerily familiar.” Mari’s interjection was received with a wry smile from Alynne.
“Yes. It is similar to Sylpharia’s Misery. Worlds much closer to the source of the mana outbreak devised a solution. Magic. It is used to consume the pollution of mana and convert it into phenomena through pure force of will. Not every world uses it the same, but mana does exist everywhere. Even here, in small amounts. The worlds with more exposure have a much easier time interacting with mana, hence why humans struggle with the concept.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but… How is all of this relevant?” Mari could already see the entrance to her underground housing complex at the end of the road.
“Our ancestors tried to do the same thing. According to records I’ve found during my work, our ancestors managed to create a microscopic machine that runs on the tiny traces of mana on our world to then convert the disease you carry into similar magical phenomena. The issue is finding records of how to do so. Notes in your file state that the ‘cure is still active,’ but my own studies find the machines to be dormant. We can discuss more after your procedure, but I am hopeful we can find a solution to your condition. I would like to work with you to learn more once the more imminent issues are in hand. Would you work with me as my lab assistant when you have free time in the future? I heard recently that you’ve not chosen a path for your future, after all.”
Mari pondered that for a while, studying the tall serpent-eyed woman as she came to a stop outside the housing complex.
“I… think it’d be alright. We can talk more after the procedure, though.” Mari hated how she had so many issues with making commitments to other people. In that one way, she felt better about the upcoming procedure, though that likely had a lot to do with the fact she had a chance to stop being ‘her’ in the process. She was sick of being weak.
“Very well. I look forward to speaking with you more on the subject later.”
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