"Von, you've told me about what happened at the hands of the Javalinas," said Kyra.
"I did?"
"Yep."
"The isolation?"
"Yes."
"The neural trace?"
"Yes."
"That I gambled with what I loved most?" added Von, dropping the thought as one drops a pebble in a placid pond, straight down, watching it fall, the words moving in slow motion or perhaps the images in his mind were moving so fast the words couldn't keep up.
Kyra inhaled. Her heart rippling, expanding.
"You know, the neural trace could do more than just extract information."
With both hands, without letting go, Kyra put her glass down.
"It could also erase it." Von let the thought have its space. Unsatisfied, he added, "Erase is too kind a word. Eradicate. Expunge. Excise. Inside your mind, they take; you can't stop them; and when it is over, you are less than you were before. They know it. They know what they have taken, only you don't. Imagine if every memory you had of Papa was gone, but not just gone, taken, taken by someone with the intent to take, to do you harm and imagine if that harm was senseless, served no purpose. How would you feel?"
Kyra stared into space, her mind trying to imagine the unimaginable. In the dim light, her sapphire eyes looked as black as coal, bottomless, lost.
"I still don't know why they did it," Von continued. "Perhaps the information they gathered was not enough; perhaps they thought I was holding something back, that my Tao training was blurring their data somehow. But they wanted more." Von sipped from his glass without breaking eye contact. "So they gave me a choice; and I didn't believe them, not that they didn't have the technology, which was somewhat common on the black market, but that they could succeed, with me." Von looked away. "At least that is what I've tried to convince myself. Pride, however, is a deception unto itself. And one can never completely deceive one's self, not completely. I've had to live with knowing, knowing that when confronted with the choice . . . ." The room fell church quiet, then Von spoke again. "And you know what is ironic? I had nothing else to give them. They already had it all. Their trace had worked. But instead, I let my own arrogance and pride get in the way. Do you see what I'm saying?"
"Von, no offense, and maybe I missed it, but what choice?"
"Ah, you know, I've lived with this so much, so intensely, I feel it so clearly, I've come to believe it exists, is known, whether I say it or not. Sorry about that. They told me if I didn't tell them what they wanted to know, they would erase every last memory I had of my son. They said I would never know he ever existed. And here is what is interesting, if I can call it that; they said that although they could erase the memories from my brain, they could not erase the emotional connections; that I would feel a loss and a pain without ever being able to understand its origin. They said this alone would drive me insane, the itch that can't be found and won't go away. An itch of the heart they called it. Emotional orphans for the child I no longer knew existed. And then, they said the choice was mine. I could keep my son if I so chose. What say you? What say you? Three words. These three words haunt the canyon of my mind, forever in echo, What-say-you."
"Von, I don't know what to say."
"Nothing to be said. Nothing that can be said. I made the choice. I gambled with the memory of my only child as if he were a chip and I was calling their bluff as if it were all a game. To think of your child as a chip, everything you know about him as a game."
"But you know Ceru, so it didn't work. You were right. His memory was never on the line. You did what all soldiers are taught to do."
Von smiled. "Duty? Honor? More important than your only child? I wish I was a sentimental old fool, lamenting an old academic choice. They called my bluff; and what I once knew, was taken from me; and it was I who opened the door."
13 comments:
There is more detail to this story than Von is telling. Perhaps one day we will visit the scene as it actually happened.
My, oh my, oh my, oh my!
:-D
Well...wow...WOW...firstly, particularly delightful, thoroughly lovable, phrasing includes
dropping the thought as one drops a pebble in a placid pond, straight down, watching it fall,
"Erase is too kind a word. Eradicate. Expunge. Excise. Inside your mind, they take; you can't stop them; and when it is over, you are less than you were before. They know it. They know what they have taken, only you don't.
and a dozen or two more.
As has happened so many times in this story, something which has become a part of it, something which one had supposed was related to one thing is given a different significance, the thought reoccurring of how seamlessly you write though you create your chapters numerically, though they are written as they appear. How long must it be, to or almost to the very first chapters featuring Von, certainly, though I haven't re-read it again now, around the time of Neutral Trace which is some time ago to say the least, that we first hear of the itch, that we first learn that it is a remnant of the time he spent at the hands of the Javalinas, and the reason for it will be a 1000 word comment paragraph in itself, but suffice to say for now, wow. !!! that I would feel a loss and a pain without ever being able to understand its origin. They said this alone would drive me insane, the itch that can't be found and won't go away. An itch of the heart they called it.
A million stars couldn't match the brilliance. I am stunned by how meant to be the happenings within have been, combined with the realness of the characters and how deeply embedded they have become, were from the first moments, the greatness of this story, the impact that it has...will have to finish this later.
Moving... this was not sad but MOVING. I was moved.
Your humor helps ease the burden of sad, er MOVING chapters.
And I agree with Ms Storm... WOW.
I forget of course where exactly I was headed with that last sentence in the above comment but along the lines of there being things that we have read, people we have come to know, events that have taken place where, just as here, just as Kyra is asked to do, it is impossible to imagine the alternative of non-existence, what it would mean not to have read, not to have known, not to have experienced. And it is then, though it may be wishful thinking, though alternatives may have meant just as much, had just as great an impact upon our selves and our lives, that one begins to consider truth in the theory of fate, to a certain point at least. Now what exactly I was going to finish that with, that is the part I do not recall, but suffice to say here we are and that is all the rest is just speculation. Putting aside the writing and where it is headed for the moment and returning to the point that I was beginning to touch upon in this morning's comment, it is astounding to understand that these are lives lived and all that is known at any one time is the current chapter and at times only precisely whereto it is moving. I mean not as a reader, but you as the creator of this story, this world and these characters, how when this new, these new (here and up and coming) details came to light, they slotted in as though there had always been a space waiting for them, as though The Story as a thing onto itself knew what you yet did not. I guess it sounds kind of silly put like that but how often have you described the experience of writing this story as flow, as moments, as a single image, a single idea, a particular fractal that inspires, a passage in a book that you have read, a memory, a personal experience, and how often has someone, admittedly that may be I who had just been repeating myself again and again, spoken of the magnitude of the story, the close-knit relations between events, past, present, future, or to quote directly, how often has it seemed as though this all must have been planned out, immaculately, neat, loose ends so to speak tucked, circles, only to know and know anew in assurances that this is not the case and far from it. I am skating, skidding, around what I intended to say, which was in short to express amazement, true, mammoth, at how beautifully, how strongly, how enduringly the tree (of the story) grows.
Ms Storm, this is a very interesting idea, for as you know and as I have said many times, there is no master plan (plot) for The Story--I see down a dark highway only as far as my headlights illuminate and no further. So, when you speak of new information slotting into old information as if it were always planned I would say yes and no. No in the sense that the story is created post by post. Yes, and this is a yes in a very, very vague sense, but yes in the sense that I have a fairly clear idea of each character, as if they were real people in my life, and from that general idea, they move within the story, so, at least in my mind, as long as I don't do anything crazy with the character, their actions and their past, within my general view, already exists and that what I am doing is not creating as much as uncovering. :-D
So here it is, the itch, Ceru and Von's relationship layered deeper, known better, and I cannot get over that feeling, though this third comment was supposed to begin with something else entirely, the feeling glazed in awe that the road led here, as though now with hindsight the steps taken can be seen. And yet when first one realized where this part of the story was headed, and still, there was and is marvel at the creativity, at the innovativeness of the idea. I want to write who would have thought but the answer arrives too early to form the statement for you do and have and will again, consistently, wondrously, formed this world that we so love to visit to thrill and delight at every turn. Not only do we have within these 600 chapters writing that mesmerises with its originality, its beauty, its wisdom to name but three on a list that would stretch from my home to yours, but characters even more lovable than the number of times that a commenter has said so, and I just cannot leave that there for I simply must reiterate that this feat simply does not exist in any other literature available that I know or have heard of, where not one, not some, but all characters have been as real and that have embedded themselves so completely in all who have found them here. Writing, characters, and the events that occur, plot if one must, but like you in this case have repeated a time or two and that we can all agree upon is that this development too, just beginning as it is, will be a dive, a dive into Von's heart, Von's soul, my heart even when I am just here with the beginnings, not knowing what is coming, not having read what will come, and the thing is one knows that regardless of how far imagination may stretch and what has been seen of your writing and your ability to touch, to move, there will be no lessening in impact, in the emotions that are poured forth from the character, reciprocated by an overwhelming reaction in the reader, in short, before I lose sight of the beginning of this sentence completely, one can tell and one knows from previous experience of reading your writing that this chapter is the edge of the cliff and Von, and we along with him, are about to be plunged, my heart which is what I had started to say expands, waiting, open, skipping beats, aching, for just the beginnings of what this, this eradication, meant in the short and in the long term.
Well, let me say two things before I forget them--LOL. (1) I do not know all the subtle details, the complete emotional landscape of what we will learn about Von's return from captivity and the meeting with Ceru, a son he has no memory of--I have some vague ideas in my head but vague is about it; (2) the one part of the story which always seemed a bit fictional for me (can I say that about a fictional story? LOL) is Von leaving his son because of the debt to Zeke. I've always struggled with Von making that choice and with Zeke asking him to make it in the first place. The asking by Zeke will have to wait for another time to explore, but if Von had his doubts about Ceru really being his son, then the taking of the mission to protect Kyra and leave Hyneria would seem more plausible. That is, I might not leave my son, but I might very well leave an adult who claimed to be my son but of which I had some level of doubt. Think of it this way if you can, and I've been judged and criticized for having stated this opinion before but I can only say what I feel, right or wrong. I have two step children and one child. They are not the same from some deep emotional level. I love them all, but my child exists on a different emotional landscape for me than my step children. Heap all the anger you like on me for saying such, but it is what it is and no amount of guilt is going to change the underlying emotion. Having said that, if Von, because his memories had been erased, although he logically was sold that Ceru was his son, now had a different emotional landscape, one more like that of a parent to a step-child rather than a parent to an only child, then, perhaps, his leaving on Bravo and the repayment of the debt to Zeke can be better understood.
Then again, we are talking about two grown Hynerians (Von and Ceru) and perhaps I am being too sentimental in the choices that adults have to make. Our children have their own lives. They leave for college, for marriage, and sometimes for war, a war in which they may not return. This happens every day and parents do not fall apart, so, to play devil's advocate, Von leaving Ceru, is, after all, regardless of memory or not, not an implausible thing. Okay, enough stream of consciousness rambling. :-D
Jen, your readership is deeply appreciated. Thank you and Roll Tide! :-D
Ms Storm, a few days ago I was standing before my stove making Irish oatmeal the old fashioned way, which is to say, slowly. As I was stirring the oatmeal to keep it from burning on the bottom of the pot, the thought of Zeke on Silus meeting with Ceru, in his tent, in the desert, late at night, just a dim light illuminating the two faces pops into my head, and in this scene only Zeke speaks. He says something to the effect that when you get old, all you have is your memories, that all he has of Kyra now, is the memories and that these memories are like gold. So this scene runs through my mind as clear as if I had just watched it in a movie and I can imagine what he says next, which is, you must leave Silus, you must find your father, you must give him back what has been taken from him, which is, memory. He was sending Ceru to go and make new memories. Now, from that scene, another piece of the puzzle drops into place, which is, why would Ceru leave Silus, leave the ones he has pledge to aid to the last breath, why would he get out of dodge so to speak. The devil is in the motivations. :-D Why. Why does one do the things they do? Always ask that question, for in that question lies compassion.
Keep in mind, in these comments, I am thinking out loud and none of what I write here is officially part of the story and until it shows up in a chapter or I officially label it as backstory information, it is just me thinking. In other words, the scene I was talked about has not happened. It might, but until it does, it hasn't. :-D
You see, we get back to that tricky nexus of Von leaving on Bravo and Ceru staying behind. Why did it happen this way? What did both of them know and feel in the parting? What did the two of them think and feel in the hours after Bravo launched and the act could not be turned back? What did Zeke know and think and feel about this act? These are the questions. Let me know if you have some answers. :-D
strange i read this twice & it did not quite register. Maybe my mind is in a limbo...
can anyone really steal your memories? perhaps by way of brainwashing?
Mona, in the fictional world of Hyneria, there is the technology to erase discrete memory. We've seen this with Yul and her black market "oblivions" and now we know the Javalinas were also able to make use of this technology via their neural trace as an instrument of torture and threat. The idea is not all that radical. Here on earth, severely depressed patients are sometimes treated with eletro-shock (ECT), which has, among other results, the effect of erasing memory.
Here is a bit from Wiki:
The acute effects of ECT include amnesia, both retrograde (for events occurring before the treatment) and anterograde (for events occurring after the treatment).[45] Memory loss and confusion are more pronounced with bilateral electrode placement rather than unilateral, and with sine-wave rather than brief-pulse currents. The vast majority of modern treatment uses brief pulse currents.[45] Retrograde amnesia is most marked for events occurring in the weeks or months before treatment, with one study showing that although some people lose memories from years prior to treatment, recovery of such memories was "virtually complete" by seven months post-treatment, with the only enduring loss being of memories in the weeks prior to the treatment.[46] Later research by the same author suggested memory of events in the months prior to treatment might be lost, as well as suggesting that self-report of memory loss was in fact a problem before treatment which patients associated with it.[47] Further reviews have supported the idea that reports of memory loss are due to somatoform disorders and not to brain damage.[48] Anterograde memory loss is usually limited to the time of treatment itself or shortly afterwards. In the weeks and months following ECT these memory problems gradually improve, but some people have persistent losses, especially with bilateral ECT.[12][45] One review of patient self-reporting found that between 29 percent and 55 percent (depending on the study) of people who had undergone ECT reported persistent memory loss.[49] In 2000 American psychiatrist Sarah Lisanby and colleagues found that bilateral ECT left patients with persistent impairment for memory of public events" as compared to RUL ECT.[44] A large study (250 subjects), published January 2007 by Harold Sackeim and colleagues found that some forms (namely bilateral application and sine wave currents) of ECT "routine[ly]" causes "adverse cognitive effects," including cognitive dysfunction and memory loss, that can persist for an extended period.[7
Mona, here is an excerpt from Chapter 190, called Oblivion, originally published on 9 November 2006.
Yul walked to her study. Under her desk stood a small metal cabinet with three drawers, each with its own cryption. Her trembling fingers punched the code on the first drawer and with a burst of compressed air, the drawer slid open on rails molasses smooth, quiet as the morning dew. Reaching inside she pulled out her modified oblivion oculators.
Oblivions, as they were called, were small devices similar to eye glasses. The legal version allowed one to erase all memories, assuming one wanted to, that were recorded while wearing the oblivions. Mostly they were used for books and movies with the idea that if a book or movie was good enough, one could, at a time of one’s choosing, use the oblivion to erase all memory associated and thus reread the book and rediscover the thrill all over again and again for as many times as one liked. The oblivions were very popular with university students who would read a literary text, take copious notes, erase the memory, and then reread taking notes anew only to compare one session to the next. Often the notes were very different, which gave credence to the concept that context, emotional or otherwise, influenced how information was seen and processed. Of course, debate raged as to how safe these devices were and political factions demanded they be banned or regulated to death with a stranglehold of bureaucratic red tape.
As with most popular technology, there were those with the means and desire to modify the devices. Hynerian neural physiology, as had been postulated for many decades, created a neural “time-stamp,” which is to say, every memory, within its very structure carried information as to creation. Well, a rather intelligent and enterprising scientist figured out how to modify an oblivion such that with proper programming, it could erase discrete memories within a definite period of time using neural time-stamp technology. The device was less reliable with older memories but, apparently, was very effective with recent ones. As one would imagine, the powers that be immediately declared modified oblivions illegal; price and desire skyrocketed. Yul had told no one, not even Rog, but she had one.
Dialing in a series of parameters, Yul placed the oblivion over her head and tightened the two rear small circular wheels locking the device firmly in place. Opening her eyes wide, the device hummed lightly as it moved through its calibration procedure. Lights blinked and Yul slid her left thumb over the activation button. Click. She pressed it again. Clack.
In regards to new fitting in with old, what we have seen time and again is the beginnings of something that closes at a much later date and for this reason, the continuance will seem, since the tie backs are always executed to perfection as though there were a master plan all along. In short, when past meets present it is done with such dexterity that one is left with a sense of wholeness, of each part being connected, or to use a familiar expression the current piece of the puzzle slips in snugly and gives us more of the picture, ever-changing though it may be. To cite another example would be the circles, of compassion, between Von, Ceru and Zeke, through time. Like the rhyme and reason that exists within the world, how the relationship and interaction between elements can seem simultaneously natural and magical, that is how it is to watch this story unfold, to see their world and watch them live within it, to see the way that they interact and care for one another, their joys and their sorrows, as though the world turns, the story is written and in every part speaks the whole.
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