Chapter 2
Clean Slate by Lola Phoenix
I’m serialising my science fiction novel here, with new chapters posted weekly.
About Clean Slate
Clean Slate is a science fiction novel about memory, identity, and what we’re willing to sacrifice to escape our past. Lavender has what seems like a comfortable life, until everything she knows is called into question. For a more extensive description of the book, please visit the About section.
Lav wanted to throw up when she opened her eyes to see the familiar wall bearing down on her. The IV was still attached to her hand and the monitoring equipment, again, to her chest. Maybe she hadn’t been in a computer program at all. Maybe she’d died and all of those religious people were right and she’d gone to Hell, doomed to get up out of this bed and hobble down the hall for all eternity. As she pushed herself up, the door began to open and the beeps sped up.
“I’m so, so sorry about all of that,” the person rushing in said in a soothing voice, “I know you’ve been having a pretty rough time. You’re going to have to forgive Dr. Azrael. She’s not really used to dealing with people. She’s rusty.” They smiled down on her and Lav was instantly reminded of her Mam. It relaxed her against her will.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Lav said as politely as she could muster.
“Oh! Where are my manners?” the person said, “My name is Dr. Erota. You can call me Tara, if you’d like. Or Dr. Erota. And I go by ‘she’. I work with Dr. Azrael, I believe she introduced herself to you as Eira?”
“Yes,” Lav said, “Eira.”
“I’m sure she won’t mind whatever you’d like to call her. I work with her as well as Cal, Finn and Rangi on the Clean Slate program. You might not remember me but we’ve known each other for a while. In fact, I’m the one who recommended you for Clean Slate. Your mother and I grew up in the same neighbourhood.”
“You grew up with Mam?” Lav asked, forgetting where she was.
Dr. Erota’s professional smile faltered. “That’s... not what you usually call her but, you have just one mother outside of Clean Slate... in the real world. Her name was Sundara, but I’m sure you actually just called her ‘Mom’.”
Lav looked down at her hands, still trying to digest the information, but it wasn’t taking. Dr. Erota swept over to the side of her bed and touched the top of her IV-less hand, giving it a friendly and supportive squeeze. Lav felt too numb to yank it away.
“I know this is difficult and we thought when we pulled you out of the program, we’d be much better prepared. But things didn’t exactly go to plan unfortunately. You weren’t due to come out of the program for at least another year in CS time. We couldn’t have predicted this problem would happen and I can’t apologise enough for the stress it’s caused you.”
She wanted to be angry again. Anger felt so much easier to manage and its heat cauterised the pain and grief she felt but Dr. Erota was definitely better with people than Eira was. “It’s okay... I guess. I mean... I don’t really know how to react to all of this. What am I supposed to say?”
Dr. Erota nodded. “I don’t know if there is anything you’re supposed to say. And I can’t say that I understand what you’re going through. We’ve run test scenarios with AI but... you can’t always predict everything. I do think it might help if you met the team, though. So, I’ve arranged for Finn and Rangi to come here as well as Eira and we can explain to you a bit about Clean Slate and how it got started. That might make things feel... a little more real?”
Lav nodded helplessly and Dr. Erota squeezed her hand again and swept out of the room with a professional smile and a promise to return. She stared at the empty walls closing in on her. She felt cold and raw and desperately wanted to feel Darren’s arms around her. The tight grip of grief came again, squeezing the centre of her chest and her eyes watered, remembering the last time she saw his face and the fear in his eyes. She felt partly silly for feeling so sad for someone who never lived, but her heart didn’t want to believe it. Not yet.
The door cracked open after a while and three more people came through after Dr. Erota into the room. Dr. Erota was a short and squat woman wearing a long fuchsia flowing dress and a cropped black top, her hair wrapped in a tall fuchsia wrap that matched the pattern of her dress. Her hair wrap increased her height by a good few inches. She recognised Eira, this time in a black blazer and skirt with a white button up shirt. Two other figures followed and approached the end of Lav’s bed.
One person stood slightly hunched in what looked like a white band t-shirt, though Lav didn’t recognise the band on it, and light blue acid washed jeans. They looked mildly confident and their hair was a lot neater in a way that clashed with their relaxed attire.
The second person looked as informal as the first, but with a plain t-shirt and shaggier black hair. They nervously gripped the back of their neck, avoiding eye contact with Lav, not in an impersonal way as Eira did but like an honest poker player avoiding an easy glance at another player’s cards. Their blue jeans were less acid washed but looked older and they wore a maroon hoodie over their plain white shirt, half zipped up.
“Nae-- I mean... Sorry,” Dr. Erota said, blushing, “Lavender, this is Dr. Azrael, or Eira, as you know.” Lav and Eira gave forced, irritated nods toward one another. Eira attempted a cracked smile but Lav did not.
“Eira is our project manager. She manages the development of Clean Slate to ensure that the program is running as smoothly as possible. She’s a doctor in computer science, specialising in the creation of new coding languages. Some of the Clean Slate coding methodology was designed and perfected by Eira.”
Lav desperately wanted to ask if it was the coding methodology that had caused her to be pulled out of the program too early, but she resisted. She was still waiting to wake up back in her bed with Darren.
“This is Finn,” Dr. Erota indicated to the person in the band shirt, “Finn goes by ‘he’. Finn is the engineer in charge of the equipment that we use to keep individuals alive during their time in Clean Slate, and does some work on the development in the backend.”
“Preventing muscle deterioration and entropy mainly,” Finn said with a Southern drawl, “Most of what the program does doesn’t threaten human life anyway.... depending on the situation--”
“We can get to that later,” Dr. Erota interrupted lovingly, “but those are mostly Finn’s duties, yes.”
“You’re not Dr. Finn?” Lav blurted. After she realised what she’d said, she hid her face in her hands.
Finn shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t have the time to go through a bunch of book learning anyhow,” he said, exaggerating his accent.
“Finn has been through some formal education, but hasn’t been interested in pursuing a doctorate,” Dr. Erota said, nodding to him kindly. “And this is Rangi. Rangi goes by they--”
“Also not a doctor,” Rangi said in a light and well-to-do sounding accent, “But I am a digital modelling architect. I design the virtual spaces of the world you’ve been living in and I make sure they work properly.”
Dr. Erota nodded toward Rangi. “And I, as you know, am Dr. Erota. I have a doctorate in poetry and literature. My main task is character development and overall monitoring of the program. I fill the system with thousands upon thousands of personalities, histories and traits and the code picks and chooses and combines them into characters that I can perfect. I also work with a psychologist to monitor the progress of the individuals within the program. Quite often I’ll be working hand in hand with the participants in Clean Slate to help them build their alternative childhoods and I do my best to make sure that they have the most vivid and accurate experience of their ideal existence as possible. Cal, the psychologist I work with, isn’t around just yet, but when they get in, you can meet them. But other than that... that’s us. We’re the team behind the Clean Slate program.”
Lav stared up at them, wondering if she was supposed to thank them. Half of her wanted to curse at them for what they’d done, but the other half was too trapped in overwhelming grief to see the point.
“We understand,” Dr. Erota said, interrupting the awkward silence, “that you may not feel very positive about Clean Slate right now and that you may be confused. You don’t remember but you did agree to enter into the program. We completely understand how difficult that must be for you right now. We are happy to give you some time to come to terms with what has happened, but we believe that it would be best if you came to a decision about whether you want to recover the memories of your life as Nae or if you want to continue as Lavender as soon as you can. Cal can help you with that decision since they have been monitoring you since your re-birth.”
“Okay,” Lav said, trying to maintain a lack of feeling. “But… can I just ask a few things?”
“Sure,” Dr. Erota said, smiling.
“I decided to go into the program?” Lav said. Dr. Erota nodded. “And all of the people in my life were created by me?”
“More or less,” Dr. Erota tiptoed, “your immediate family was created by both you and I, but individuals like Darren were characters created by me that you happened to run into during your time in the program.”
“So... he wasn’t supposed to run into me?” Lav asked.
Dr. Erota hesitated.
“The program...” Eira piped up in a monotone, professional voice that grated on Lav’s nerves, “is designed to allow for a certain amount of random activity while prohibiting any of the adverse childhood experiences or traumatic events that you had experienced or identified as undesirable when you joined. There are a select few events that must happen, but for the most part, the algorithm allows the program to play out as it would in real life depending upon interactions with the characters and the environment.”
She wasn’t sure if she was more or less comforted by the idea that Darren was written in as some kind of destiny for her.
“So... I have to choose whether or not I want to remember my old life, or forget all about it?”
“Yes,” Dr. Erota said, “And we know that’s a big decision.”
Lav snorted, unable to contain her derision, “No shit that’s a big decision. How am I supposed to make a decision about whether or not I want to forget a life that I don’t even remember?”
Dr. Erota avoided Lav’s eyes and nodded, licking her lips. Lav’s outbursts were understandable, but still raw to respond to, given how much hope she had invested in the program since before it was a reality. “You left a message for yourself, before you were put into Clean Slate. You’ll be able to listen to that. And, as I said, you’ll also be speaking with Cal who’s monitored you within the program and who worked with you before you decided to enrol. Cal should be able to help work with you throughout everything.”
Lav paused, trying to process everything again. “And then I guess I need to figure out if I want to go back into the program or not?”
Dr. Erota hesitated. “The idea of the program is to help provide you with a better foundation for living in the real world. Our hope is that individuals who have gone through the program will want to return to their real lives... but we could if absolutely necessary put you back into Clean Slate .”
“But... if I go back into the program, will everything be like it was? I mean... will I appear back in the car with Darren? And will I know about all of this? That the life I’m living isn’t real?”
Dr. Erota‘s professional demeanour faltered and her face fell. Lav’s stomach twisted and she wanted to throw up, suffocating in the thickness of the dread in the air like toxic smog.
“I’m afraid... due to the complications of the program malfunction we had... we were not able to restore Darren as a character back into your Clean Slate program.”
Lav tried to steady herself but she felt the same pain, the grip and hallowing again in her chest and her eyes instantly watered. She hadn’t realised part of her had held out some kind of hope.
“I’m so sorry Nae,” Dr. Erota said, forgetting her mask and walking forward, reaching for her hand, but Lav yanked it away violently.
“I’m not Nae,” she spat, wanting to sting with her words but her voice betrayed her intentions, “My name is Lavender.”
Dr. Erota flinched, but nodded solemnly with a pity that turned Lav’s grief into a rapidly growing rage. She couldn’t remember ever wanting to punch someone as badly as she wanted to punch Dr. Erota. But, whatever she’d remembered hadn’t been real. She wanted someone to be as angry as she was so she didn’t feel insane. She wanted to exorcise her fury with something physical, but she knew there would be consequences so she remained in the bed, stock still and pulled tight like a crossbow ready to fire, willing her eyes to keep the tears back. She felt weirdly on display like a paltry, offensive sideshow exhibit. Crying felt like giving in somehow.
After a moment of tense and unforgiving silence, Dr. Erota ushered the others out of the room and gave a solemn nod as she exited. Lav let out her breath all at once, collapsing back into the bed and rolling on her side. Her tears fell onto the white linen pillow and Lav stared at the blank white wall, body paralysed with rage and grief.
She didn’t bother turning her head after an hour or two when she heard the familiar sound of the door. She heard the clops of shoes on the ground and someone sat in the chair that had been placed on the right side of her bed. She heard them write on something, but refused to turn her head. Instead she shut her eyes, pretending to be asleep. They stopped writing and waited.
The anticipation grew as the time passed and it didn’t help that Lav couldn’t measure it. She was determined to wait them out and not move a muscle, but the strain and hypervigilance started to make all of the aches and pains in Lav’s body noticeable. After a pain in her hip pierced through her resolve, she cracked her eyes and turned to her side, looking into the brown eyes of the individual sitting next to her.
“Hello Lavender,” they said gently, “I’m glad to see you’re awake. And I’m sorry I wasn’t the first one to greet you. I wanted to talk to you about what’s happened, if you want to talk?”
Lav sat up in bed again, flexing her legs. “Who are you?”
“Sorry, I forgot I needed to reintroduce myself. We’ve met before, but you obviously don’t remember. My name is Calliope, but call me Cal for short. I go by ‘they’. I’m a psychotherapist and we’ve been seeing each other for the last few months, since you decided to enter the program.”
Lav nodded, but didn’t say anything and Cal opened the small black portfolio they held with what looked like a notepad inside. “If you’d like to talk, you’re welcome to ask me any question or... generally describe how you’re feeling. Anything at all that you would like to do. I can talk or I can listen. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“You’re not another doctor?” Lav blurted out again. Something about the situation made her less polite than she knew herself to be, but she was too tired to care.
Cal grinned. “I am, but I don’t prefer to use the title. Feels a little formal.”
Lav let the air hang for a moment as she picked at the end of the white linens, avoiding Cal’s eyes. She liked something about Cal she couldn’t put her finger on. Clearing her throat, she said, “What... can you tell me about Nae?”. Saying the name out loud was strange. “Nae” still felt like a stranger and she was still waiting for Darren to come out of a hiding place and announce it had all been a joke.
Cal looked surprised, but continued professionally, “What would you like to know about her? I won’t be able to tell you what’s in the message she left you, unfortunately.”
“Do you know why Nae did this? Why’d she go into Clean Slate?” Lav asked.
Cal wanted to remind Lavender that she was Nae, but they knew it wouldn’t be helpful to her right now. The oddness of the entire situation haunted them even as they tried to act like it was normal. Lavender spoke and carried her body in a way so different to Nae, it looked like she’d been possessed. They pushed past their discomfort to remember the overall benefits Clean Slate was supposed to give, even if Cal had yet to see them.
Cal described meeting Nae and how she had sat on the exact same bed, both cowering and seething at the world around her when she wasn’t screaming at it, living in a state of hypervigilance she couldn’t escape. It was a simplistic, crude way of describing what was a very complicated human being, but Cal had pretty clear instructions about what choice was preferable for Lav to make.
“What... about her life? Did she tell you anything about it?” Lav felt disconnected from her questions, like she was asking about a job she was applying for and not about a life she once had.
“Nae... had a difficult life, from what she would tell me. She wasn’t always very forthcoming about things that had happened. Most people in her situation aren’t. And she didn’t care for me much when I wanted her to examine them. Her moods would change a lot on her so it... was sometimes hard to get the full picture from her,” Cal said. ”How... much detail do you want exactly?”
Lav sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know... I don’t even know how to deal with all of this. I’m supposed to make this choice so... I guess it makes the most sense to understand what the hell it is I’d remember if I do choose to remember everything.”
Cal felt suspended between two paths. They could deliver a single, solid hit towards Lav’s hopes of experiencing anything positive from Nae’s memories or soften the blow that would eventually come later when the memories would bubble to the surface. They had to handle each word like a potential bomb trigger, avoiding the truth — Lav was not actually the first person who had tried Clean Slate. And when the others had chosen to remember their lives... it hadn’t ended well. This time had to be different.
“Nae’s life...” Cal began awkwardly, “wasn’t good. From what she told me, there was a lot of trauma from a very early age, although she had always dismissed what that had done to her. She was abused by both of her parents, but most profoundly by her biological father.”
Lav looked up at them from picking at the linens and Cal hesitated. Swallowing loudly, they continued. “Nae... never went into extreme detail with me but, from what I gathered, she was... sexually abused, beaten often and bullied. Sometimes... she’d say something she thought was innocuous about a pretty terrible experience and, as I said, she was pretty unwilling to admit that some of these incidents in her life had a profound impact on her regardless of how obvious it was that it did...”
Lav had no frame of reference, except for the occasional documentary she watched, for any of the trauma or experiences Cal described. Obviously, she knew that living through that type of thing was a sad thing, but anything beyond that couldn’t register deeper. She didn’t even like shows with that kind of stuff in it and always suffered through those parts of shows begrudgingly, sometimes fast forwarding through them. She wondered what remembering living through it would be like.
“But... she still wanted to do the Clean Slate thing?” Lav chirped after tossing thoughts over in her head.
Cal readjusted, looking more relaxed. “I think deep down... Nae knew that things weren’t great and Clean Slate could give her the opportunity to fix herself without really having to go through the level of therapy she’d need to recover. Especially since she found it pretty hard to keep many friends in her life so she didn’t have the same type of support a lot of people would have while they were trying to do this work.”
“Did she need to be locked up?” Lav asked. Again, she lacked anything to compare what Cal was telling her to. She had seen a therapist a few times for anxiety and stress now and then, but not for anything she’d consider serious.
Cal flinched at the brusque way Lav had said that, but continued politely through a forced smile, “Nae... probably could have benefitted from being in a facility for a little bit, sure. But it’s a bit more complicated than that. Unfortunately, not all facilities are ready or even able to help people in the way they need to be helped. And those that are can be too expensive for many. And it didn’t help that Nae hadn’t always had the best experience with other therapists... it took a lot for us to work on trust.”
“Do you wish she hadn’t gone into Clean Slate?”
Cal hesitated. They’d never considered the question before. It was getting harder and harder not to talk about all of the ways they had regretted being involved in Clean Slate and the doubts they had about its uses. It was only their experience with Nae that had kept Cal from leaving all together.
“I think... that it was better for Nae to make a decision about her own life than for me to make it for her. We worked together with Dr. Erota to build something that I think she really benefited from and... to be honest, I feel like... outside of the problems we’ve had getting you out of the program... It’s been successful so far.”
Lav couldn’t help but scoff. “Successful? I’ve been doing nothing but sitting in this bed for days. I go back and forth between wanting to cry and scream to wanting to punch someone. I’ve got all of this crap to think about and I don’t even know where to start. Wasn’t this program supposed to make me perfect? Better at... I don’t know... coping with things?”
Cal wasn’t discouraged by her derision and instead found it a little refreshing among all of the professional politeness they had to keep up. “Nothing short of a lobotomy is going to prevent you from having to cope with the stressors life will throw at you regardless but... I think you’re coping well. Very well, actually. Even if you may not feel like you are.”
Familiar, jarring memories of painful screams echoed in Cal’s head. Lavender was coping far better than some of the others had.
“So, let me get this straight,” Lav said after a moment, “You’re telling me that... if I decide to regain my memories of... Nae’s life... I’m going to remember all of the stuff you talked about? All the abuse?”
Cal gathered their words carefully. “I don’t know that we can say for sure what memories you will and won’t recover. The technology we have is very advanced but human brains are all unique. We’ve run test scenarios… but we can’t really say for sure what you’d remember and when or how. Especially since… you’re the first”. Cal avoided Lav’s eyes at the lie.
“What do you think I should do?” Lav said, shrugging.
Cal’s eyes widened. “I can’t... really tell you what to--”
“I didn’t say that,” Lav waved a hand in frustration, “I’m not taking orders here but obviously you know a lot more about this... thing than I do. And you’re a psychotherapist so... you know more about how the mind works than I do so... I want your professional opinion. What do you think people coming out of this thing should do?”
In all of their time working on the program, no one had ever asked Cal that. No one had gotten far enough to ask Cal that. They took a moment to think.
“I... I don’t think that anyone participating in the program should choose to recover their memories.”
“Why?” Lav said, not missing a beat.
“Because… there’s too much we don’t know. I can be here with you throughout the process if it’s really what you want but... we just can’t say for sure what will happen. I’m not a technology person but from what I can tell about how this program works... your memories are suppressed psychologically. And if you were to be ‘triggered’ as they said... if other… test scenarios of this are any indication, the memories would come flooding back in a way that can’t be controlled or changed. I just... don’t think it’s worth it. Why bother?”
Lav thought to herself for a moment. She was finally beginning to juggle with the reality of it, instead of assuming it was one big joke. “I just... I want to know who Nae was,” Lav said. While she meant to picture someone that looked like her in her head, Lav only saw Darren. Darren was gone forever and she was the only person who would really remember him. “What happens to the memories if I don’t relive them?”
“That’d be hard to say. There isn’t really any precedent for this so we couldn’t say for sure what would happen to them... eventually, like most of our memories, they’d most likely fade away, I would assume. Especially if they were suppressed but... I’m not a neurologist.”
“So, if I forget everything... it’s like Nae’s... gone?”
Cal’s mouth went dry. They wanted to tell Lav the truth – Nae was likely already gone. Even if the memories came back, they’d be blended in with Lav’s experiences, even as fake as they had been.
“It depends on how you look at it I suppose,” Cal answered quietly, “But then, in a way, going back into the program would also mean that Nae would be gone.”
“I wouldn’t have Darren,” Lav blurted, speaking through a strained throat, “So... what would be the point of that?”
Cal didn’t answer. They weren’t supposed to encourage people to go back into the program. That defeated the whole purpose of it. And truthfully, the last thing Cal wanted to see is another body lying in what was essentially a coffin, locked inside a lie.
“Is there any chance,” Lav asked, voice wavering slightly, “of running into people that Nae knew?”
“We’d do what we could to prevent that from happening but if worse came to worse, our plan is to advise our participants to tell people they were in an accident that affected their memory,” Cal said, as if they were reciting from a dictionary.
“I can’t tell people about Clean Slate?”
Cal swallowed. They’d nearly slipped and made it sound like she wasn’t the first, but she hadn’t noticed.
“We’re still in a very crucial funding stage and we haven’t gone fully public.. You are the first case after all. And of course you may not remember it, but you have signed an NDA,” Cal said, trying to smile knowingly. It was probably coming off a lot creepier than they intended. “Obviously we’d want to make sure it’s perfect before we--”
“Before you let other people go through what I’m going through?” Lav glared. She was feeling the urge to be sarcastic and snappy again, but she tried to hold back. She actually did like Cal, even if she didn’t like what had happened.
“For what it’s worth,” Cal said, “I am sorry about Darren. I know that doesn’t mean much. And I know that we keep saying that it was an accident and that probably doesn’t change how you feel. I can’t say that I know what it’s like to go through Clean Slate but... I know what it’s like to lose somebody.” Cal wanted to add “to Clean Slate” to the end of their phrase but they resisted.
Lav closed her eyes and Cal turned away to give her some form of privacy. Witnessing her grief felt inappropriate and they felt like being a part of it would compel them to be honest about the program.
Although grief was wrenching her back and forth like a rag doll, Lav appreciated Cal’s efforts. Eira had been far too robotic and formulaic and Dr. Erota treated her like a fragile baby bird. Even though she could tell they were all trying to be a professional, Cal was real.
“If you don’t have any more questions... I think I’ll give you some time to think everything over. You can see Nae’s message whenever you want. Do you want me to arrange that?”
Lav nodded, trying to keep the tears from falling again. Cal took the hint and stood quietly.
She kept her eyes tightly sealed, knowing that seeing the human reflected back in Cal’s eyes might make her release everything and, even for as much as she felt they understood her better than the others, she wasn’t ready to lay all of her cards out yet.
Cal made their way out of the room and, on autopilot, went just down the hall into the observation room to give their report as they had done with the others.
“She’s stable and unlikely to request to relive her memories. But she does want to see the message from Nae, so I suppose I’ll be the one to arrange that, shall I?” Cal struggled to maintain a professional composure in front of Eira. The more test cases they went through and the less it phased Eira, the more it grated on Cal.
“We definitely can’t hear the contents of the message?” Eira asked.
Cal sighed and rubbed the bridge of their nose. “For the last time, when we put together this program you and Tara agreed and you made it part of the contract that the message that they leave for themselves is confidential. That’s part of the agreement of the program. You can’t change it now. If and when this program is audited, if you go back on that, trust me when I say that everything will be shut down faster than you can blink. And you’d end up with a lot of pissed off investors.”
Cal rushed off to find Finn to arrange the message and Dr. Erota looked knowingly at Eira. “I know Cal can be a pain in the ass, but they’re the best person for the job,”
Eira bristled. “Maybe you ought to go out for another hiring round.”
“Ouch!” Dr. Erota laughed. She knew that Eira was probably only half kidding. They had butted heads since the beginning of the project, but, if everything went right, the first phase was nearly over with and they just had to tough it out for a little longer. “Don’t shit on my choices, all right? Especially when you know Cal’s just mad because they think it’s your fault the boyfriend disappeared.”
Eira’s head darted back toward Dr. Erota, feathers ruffled. “None of the tests we ran with the IA minds had this problem and neither did any of the other cases. It was an anomaly and completely out of our control.”
Dr. Erota’s placating, practised smile slowly faded. “Another anomaly though, Eira? How many more test cases do you think Gene is willing to hear about? The last thing we need for this program is anomalies. If this is going to get funded, we have to have one perfect test case. No bumps. No trauma. Naenia Weiland has to walk out of this program as a fresh, new flower, completely healed and ready to take on the world. Gene is promising the investors a fully fledged case and they’ve been waiting for months. There’s already enough uncertainty in the psychology of it. Everyone’s putting a lot into this.” She knew how much Eira wanted Clean Slate to happen, but she didn’t mention it. The argument could speak for itself.
Eira’s palms were beginning to sweat against her clipboard. “We shouldn’t have any more problems. We’re going to get to the bottom of what happened with it soon... by the end of this week.”
“And I’ll expect a complete and full answer then,” Dr. Erota said, looking away from the monitor and staring directly into Eira’s eyes. After Eira nodded, Dr. Erota looked back at the monitor at Lav lying helplessly on her pillow.
Eira breathed out slowly through her nose like she’d taught herself how to do, and tried to change the subject.
“What do you think she’ll do? Do you think she’ll want to go back into Clean Slate?”
Dr. Erota smiled, mostly to herself, “With the way she was talking to Cal? Oh, no. Absolutely not. Even though you all screwed up spectacularly... it actually worked out much better this way. We knew that if we pulled her out of Clean Slate with Darren still in the picture, she’d want to go back. But now that it’s no longer an option, she’s not doing that. Nae couldn’t ever live a lie, no matter how much she wanted to. I just don’t want her to choose to relive all of those shitty memories. Cal’s done their part but... we can’t have her a broken mess. We don’t have time to work her through all of that. We need her functioning in a few weeks to have a good test case to present. The longer we dilly dally with all of this, the more likely Gene will lose the investors and then we’ll have nothing. We just can’t take that risk.”
Eira looked at Lav still lying still in her bed. “It sounds like she wants to know more about Nae.”
Dr. Erota sighed. “We’ll have to do what we can do to keep her on track.”
Wow, didn't see Dr. Erota coming! It's interesting how Lav wonders if she's in a computer program. What if Dr. Azrael wasent just rusty, but an AI with a bug? So engaging!