I wanted to get as up to date as I could on current memory therapy research, so I wouldn’t be behind on my first day at work.
It wasfascinating,and Jay’s name was all over it.
Apparently, he was leading developments around memory extraction specifically designed to help trauma victims at the scene of their traumatic events. His work over the last year had been focused on making the NeuroExtractor more accessible to healthcare professionals, so that paramedics could add it to their kits and use it as needed. These developments had been added last month and had been the cornerstone of the update from the NeuroExtractor 2.0 to the 3.0 that he’d used on me today.
I frowned.
That didn’t make sense. He’d told me I’d needed to choose a less recent memory, but the device he’d been using had been specifically modified to work for recent trauma.
Why hadn’t he wanted to delete that memory then?
I pursed my lips, finishing up my kombucha and heading to my bedroom, where all my bags were still packed and waiting for me.
As I dug through my luggage for a clean pair of boxers to sleep in, I resolved to do a little more digging the following day to see if I could learn more about the limitations of the new 3.0 OS.
“Good Morning, Milo. You have a visitor. Should I let him in?” NOVA’s pretty voice rang through my cozy room.
Golden beams of light filtered through the white built-in shutters on my window, speckling my duvet with warm shots of liquid honey.
I groaned, rolling over to check the time on my phone.
It was 7:50am. I wasn’t due at NeuroWell until 9. Who theheckwas visitingme this early? I didn’t have any friends yet… Honestly, based on how yesterday had gone, I wasn’t really hopeful I would make friends at all, which was fine. I was used to that.
“Who is it?” I asked NOVA, and she chuckled at my sleepy slur.
“Jay Reynolds, Chief Memory Therapy Research Officer.”
That woke me up.
My eyes flew open, and I launched myself out of bed, full-blown panicking.
What the frick was he doing here?
The doorbell rang, and I rushed around my room, ripping into my suitcases to find something to wear.
“Why is the CMTRO here?!” I gasped, and NOVA answered cheerfully as I hopped on one foot, trying to pull on a sock.
“He seems to have brought coffee and baked goods. My guess would be he’s here for breakfast.”
“WHY!?” I yelped, hunting for a pair of jeans.
The doorbell rang again, and NOVA helpfully informed me that there was a pair of jeans hiding underneath my laptop bag in the northern corner of my room.
“Human beings need food for sustenance. Sharing meals is also typically a practice humans use to bond with one another. It’s safe to assume he is here to ensure you’re meeting your nutritional needs. He might also be interested in fostering a healthy relationship with you, as a new member of his team.”
The jeans were on, and I threw on a button-up shirt my mom had bought me as a congratulatory gift when I’d received my contract.
It was navy blue and had tiny pink brains embroidered in a polka-dot pattern. Shoving my glasses up my nose, I rushed to the door, still buttoning up my shirt, when the bell rang again.
Jeeze, he was impatient!
“Let him in!” I gasped at NOVA as I slid clumsily into the foyer.
NOVA unlocked the door, and it swung inwards to reveal a thoroughly amused Jay Reynolds.
He was a walking contradiction to the warm gold and pink sunrise filtering through the trees that framed Amygdala Ave.
Today, he was wearing black jeans and a t-shirt with one of his wrinkled but fitted blazers on top. It was clear he’d only put the blazer on in a weak attempt to meet the business casual dress code, as he’d opted for high tops again today.
