F Paul Wilson - Novel 05 Read Online Free Page B

deeply and firmly
embedded in our memories than the routine incidents. If we hang around long
enough we'll see some of those, too, but they're faint. Your memory edits for
you. Do you really need to file away the details of the ten-thousandth time
you passed through the living room on your way to the kitchen?"
                 "Where's that go?" Henderson asks as you pass a closed door.
                 "The
basement, but you can't go there."
                 "Why
not?"
                 "Because
it's locked and we don't have the key. Lorraine doesn't go there herself
and so she doesn't want us going there either."
                 "Ah! Repressed memories."
                 "Not
repressed so much as tucked away. They're unpleasant and so she keeps them out
of sight. Truly repressed memories — if such things exist — would be deeply buried; even
the subject wouldn't know where they were. And once you located them you'd
really have to dig to reach them."
                 "So
you've never been down to the basement."
                 "I
haven't found the key."
                 A
lie. You did find the key. You always were good at finding things. It's folded
within the pages of the scrapbook in Lorraine 's bedroom, rammed through
the photo of Johnny Kozik. Because among other things in the basement is the
fuzzy memory of the loss of Lorraine 's virginity to good ol' Johnny.
They'd call it date rape now.
                 Johnny,
two years older and light-years more experienced, came over with a bottle of
Southern Comfort one night when her parents were out, got her drunk, began
undressing her. Lorraine , feeling more sick than
amorous, tried to push him away, but he became angry and began pushing her
around. He frightened her and she was too groggy to put up much of a struggle.
You couldn't watch. You had to turn away as she let him do what he wanted to
do.
                 It
gives you the creeps to know that the same date rape is playing in an endless
loop below your feet. Even now ...
                You've never returned to the
basement, and you sure as hell aren't taking a stranger down there.
                 "What's upstairs?"
                 "The
usual — bedrooms and bathrooms. We
can — "
                 You
are interrupted by the Warning button flashing red. You check the readout
ribbon. The EKG retains a normal QRS pattern but the pulse rate is up to 120
and respirations are 14.
                 "What's
wrong?"
                 "Nothing.
For reasons we've yet to explain, we're limited to how long we can stay in the
memoryscape without causing physiological reactions. The limit varies from
subject to subject, but rising pulse and respiratory rates are the first
signs. Part of it has to do with a diminution of the diazepam effect, so as
that wears off, the reactions begin. But even with extra doses, once the
reaction starts, it progresses."
                 "What
will happen if we ignore the warning and stay here?"
                 "We
can't. It's a failsafe in the program. If we don't exit, it will exit for us.
I've no desire to find out what would happen if we push it. It may be harmful,
it may not. Why risk it? We can always go back in later."
                 "Then
let's exit immediately. I'm not here to cause this young woman harm."
                 As
you move the fingertip of the hand to the Exit button and click it, the genuine
concern in Henderson 's voice causes a pang of
guilt. You had Gomez give Lorraine a light dose to guarantee a
short session.
                 No
matter. You've given him a tour. Dragging it out would only be repetitious.
Because you have no intention of revealing any of Lorraine 's secrets. You promised
her.
                 The
screens go blank. You reach for your goggles.