Chapter 2
“I’m telling you, Milo. If the police aren’t going to do anything about your stalker, then I really think it’s time you reconsider the MTR position,” Melanie snipped haughtily.
She was sitting across from me in her luxury N-car, twirling her keys around her finger again as we made our way to Synapse Springs.
N-cars were pod-like, with no ‘driver’s seat,’ as the vehicles were self-driving. The cushioned bench-like seats that lined the perimeter of the cars could be folded out to create beds if needed, and the more luxurious models even had tables and minifridges built into them for maximum comfort.
I know it must seem strange that I’m still comfortable getting in an N-car after what happened to me, but realistically, N-cars are still much safer than man-driven cars.
Since N-cars took over the market, the numbers speak for themselves.
The two casualties in ten years are more than just a little impressive when you take into account the fact that before self-driving cars, there was an average of four thousand traffic-related casualties a year in the state of California alone.
So, the chances of me being involved in an N-car accident twice are lower than my chances of getting struck by literal lightning.
I’ve always been good with math, and as awkward and shy as I am, I like to think I’m a more or less rational person.
So, despite the fact that my father was killed by a faulty N-car, I still always took advantage when Melanie offered to give me a lift.
Beat the heck out of taking the subway, that’s for sure.
I sighed again as the car pulled into Synapse Springs’ guest parking lot.
“You know I can’t do that, Mel. Neurovance employees are required to live on campus. I need to be able to take care of my mom.”
Melanie scoffed as the car parked itself. She popped up the door and stepped out into the sunlight, her long, tanned legs unfolding gracefully beneath her crisp pencil skirt.
“First of all, that’s exactly why you should take the position.
There’s no way whoever this is would make it through Neurovance security to get to you.
” She cut me a stern look. “Also, news flash! I’m a Neurovance employee who lives on campus, and check it out, I’m here with you visiting your mom right now! ”
I bit my lip, climbing out of the car after her. “Yeah, but you’re the COO, Melanie. I’d just be some lowly memory therapy researcher. You said yourself that employees under probation are expected to stay on campus for at least three months before they can apply for leave.”
Melanie rolled her eyes as we walked up the perfectly manicured pathway to Synapse Springs.
The wide, white concrete path was lined with zen-like water features, and hidden speakers were playing soothing spa music, creating a calm, relaxed atmosphere before anyone even entered the building.
We approached the sliding glass doors, and the building’s AI greeted us.
“Welcome to Synapse Springs! Can you provide me with your visitor number, please?” The soothing artificial voice had a dreamy tone, and I smiled as I rattled off the number I’d been given once my mother was enrolled in the program.
The AI opened the doors for us, and we stepped into the clean, bright space. The clack of Melanie’s heels was absorbed by the soft bamboo floors, and the white walls were decorated with soothing paintings of florals and mountain scapes.
“You wouldn’t be a lowly memory therapy researcher, Milo. Sebastian asks about you almost every day. Especially with Jay off on medical leave, Seb said he wants you to head up the entire department and spearhead the NeuroManipulator project.”
Melanie smiled and waved to the receptionist as we made our way to the elevator block, which was nestled between two indoor ponds complete with waterfalls and live koi fish.
The spa-like vibes of the facility carried over into the cylindrical glass elevators, which faintly smelled of citrus and tea tree oil.
The AI’s voice chimed again, asked us which floor it should deliver us to, and Melanie gave it my mother’s room number.
“What!?” I squeaked. “No he hasn’t!”
Melanie cut me a smug grin and shrugged.
“He sure has. Ever since I made him read your essay, he’s been checking in with me daily to see if your mom is settled enough that you would feel comfortable coming in for an interview.”
Sebastian Stevens was the son of Luke Stevens, the last living founder of Neurovance. No one knew what Sebastian looked like, as Neurovance kept most of its C-level employees faceless for safety reasons.
Neurovance made all kinds of things, but they were first and foremost the global leader in memory extraction technology.
While memory therapy had a lot of good press around it for treating things like trauma and helping people like my mother who suffered from neurocognitive disorders, there was also a great deal of skepticism from the general public.
Celebrities were often criticized for abusing the technology, using their significant net worths to have minor, embarrassing memories deleted, or bribing people to undergo extraction procedures to avoid scandals.
Remember when I told you there have only ever been two N-car crashes in recorded history? Well, funny enough, Stephen Reynolds, the first person to create a viable memory extraction procedure nearly fifteen years prior, was the other casualty.
The world had been in a constant state of division over the topic since he debuted the NeuroExtractor 1.0 in a TED Talk that went completely viral.
After Stephen Reynolds passed away, his son, Jay Reynolds, took that technology and optimized it to the point where memory therapy technicians didn’t even need to use surgery to extract memories. It could be done in a clinic or an ambulance with a small device that uses electromagnetic fields.
Jay Reynolds was to Neurotech what Kurt Cobain was to grunge. He basically invented it. Sure, his dad got the ball rolling, but Jay had made the technology broadly accessible.
I was honestly a little obsessed with the science behind it. I’d written my thesis on Jay Reynolds’ work, and my application essay to Neurovance had been about how I thought we could push memory technology past simple extraction into full-blown manipulation.
When I’d first applied to work at Neurovance, I’d been fan-girling a little bit at the thought of working under Jay—until Melanie informed me he’d needed to step down from his position as Chief Memory Therapy Officer due to mental health reasons.
So, the fact that Sebastian Stevens wanted me to ‘head up’ memory therapy research basically meant he was considering me for my freaking idol’s role.
Me.
The dude who went by the name Murphquake on the MIT campus.
I was so taken aback by what Melanie was implying that I forgot for a second that I was currently dealing with a potentially dangerous stalker.
The elevator arrived at my mom’s floor just as my N-phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out in a bit of a daze and glanced down to find another message from that same unknown number.
Unknown:
I warned you.
I frowned at the message, and my stomach bottomed out.
Glancing down at my t-shirt, I suddenly felt like an idiot. What was I doing goading this clearly deranged person?
What if it wasn’t Dylan and the threat had been genuine?
Melanie was already several steps down the brightly lit hallway on her way to my mother’s room. She glanced back at me, cocking her head to the side, absently spinning her chilli pepper key chain in her hand again as she waited for me to catch up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, and I sighed, shaking my head.
“Nothing… but maybe you’re right. Maybe I should meet with Sebastian once we make sure my mom is settled.”
Melanie beamed at me, draping her arm over my shoulders and tugging me in for a one-armed hug.
“Eeeek! Excellent! I’ll text him right now to get something set up!”
I nodded numbly as she whipped out her N-phone to do just that.
You would think I’d be excited for the opportunity to potentially get my dream job, but all I felt was this twinge of guilt and a healthy rush of fear.
Something was not right…
Before I could voice my concerns to Melanie, we arrived at my mom’s room. Melanie keyed in the code to her suite, grinning back at me over her shoulder.
“This is going to be soooo awesome! I can’t believe we’re going to work together!”
I gave my bestie a shaky smile and a nod.
“Yeah…” I replied softly as we stepped into the pristine, bright suite that my mother was supposed to be living in.
The only issue was: the room was empty.
“Mom?” I called, though the space was small enough that I knew she wasn’t there… The bathroom door was open, and her bed was neatly made and empty. She had a small TV on the far wall and a desk by the window—both were unused and unoccupied.
“Maybe she’s late coming back from lunch?” Melanie wondered out loud as we stepped deeper into the space.
We both jumped at the sound of the door snapping shut behind us.
“What the—” Melanie yelped as we both spun to find a tall, strange man leaning against the door.
He was wearing a rigid black mask that covered his entire face. The mask was made of black tinted glass, opaque from the outside and impossible to see into. It had a glowing blue ring in the center of the face, and I wondered if he’d modified it with some sort of technology or AI to assist him.
He was wearing a white techware hoodie, something that I imagined an anime villain would wear, and the hood was pulled up over his head, covering his hair as effectively as the mask covered his face.
He towered over us… which I was used to. I wasn’t exactly tall. Last I checked, I was five eight, but it wasn’t just his height or his broad, muscled shoulders that made him terrifying.
It wasn’t the tactical pants or the techwear hoodie that hung heavy in places where he was clearly hiding weapons.
It wasn’t even the gun in his hand.
It was his energy.
There was something so unsettling about how, just standing there, he managed to fill the room with an almost visceral aura of pure fury.
Ohmygod.
Was this him? Was this my freaking stalker?
I took an involuntary step away from the stranger, even though there was nowhere to go. Not unless I was willing to launch myself out of a second-story window.
If this was the man that was messing with me… gosh dang, had I ever screwed up.
I should have just worn that stupid outfit!
The man cocked his head to the side like some great, carnivorous animal. My entire body shivered with the desire to bolt as he tilted his head toward me, pointedly taking in the fact that I’d refused to wear the clothes he’d laid out for me.
Because there was no doubt in my mind that this was him.
This was the person who had been breaking into my home and delivering bouquets of forget-me-nots.
This was the man leaving me handwritten threats disguised as promises.
This was the person I had defied that morning.
A long, drawn-out second stretched between us, and the earth seemed to stop spinning as we all hung frozen, suspended in time.
Finally, he spoke, and his voice rumbled through the air. It was distorted by some sort of voice cloaking software that he’d clearly installed in the mask.
The slightly robotic sound made his greeting even more ominous, a warning for the crash of the storm that was surely to follow.
“Hello, Milo,” he hummed, and my heart stopped beating.