The last train had gone by the time Elias packed up his computer, drained his fourth and final energy drink of the day, and swept the crumbs off the desk for whoever would be using it next. He slung his messenger bag across his back and caught an empty elevator down twenty-six stories to Neuroluxe\u2019s heinously-bright lobby. The midnight crew would be arriving soon, and Elias wasn\u2019t due back until eleven the next day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Security guards were posted at every entrance, a measure that had been implemented after the suspicious death of MemoryForge\u2019s CEO last month. Astrid Phoenix wouldn\u2019t be missed, that was for certain, and her death gave Neuroluxe an edge in the intense memory design market. Still, the company wasn\u2019t going to take any chances. Elias scanned his badge, allowed one of the guards to rifle through his bag, and finally was released from the claws of capitalism.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a bite to the air outside, so Elias zipped his jacket up to the throat and stuffed his bare hands in his pockets, resigning himself to the three-mile walk home. His only consolation was stopping at the corner market near his apartment building and buying a tub of ice cream. He could justify it after nearly an hour of walking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019d they have you working on this time?\u201d Skye asked as he came into the apartment. It was nearly one in the morning now\u2014basically midday for them. They didn\u2019t look away from their game. \u201cRewriting someone\u2019s childhood memories so they can remember Christmases being happy and joyful?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWorse\u2014designing a two-week vacation for someone to the Maldives.\u201d The client had had an endless list of complaints\u2014her outfits and her hair weren\u2019t quite right, he hadn\u2019t rendered her wife correctly, she wanted different memories about the experiences they had done, you name it. \u201cIt would have been cheaper for her to have actually <\/em>gone there, at this point.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNot your problem,\u201d Skye said with a shrug, and while they had a point, Elias was still the one who had needed to put in six extra hours at the office today, and he wouldn\u2019t see a penny of the extra fees that had been charged to the client – except on a presentation slide at the end of the year, when Neuroluxe undoubtedly reported record profits. \u201cYou staying up?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNah, I\u2019m gonna eat my weight in ice cream and pass out.\u201d On a normal day, Elias put in his eight hours (plus half an hour for lunch), and then had time before bed to work on his freelance projects, but he didn\u2019t have the energy for it now. He would have to pull an all-nighter tomorrow, probably. Some of his commissions were due by the weekend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He slept until nine the next day, and then dragged himself into the kitchen. The apartment was quiet, and Skye\u2019s door stood open, showing an empty bedroom. They had probably gone to their girlfriend\u2019s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Elias jumped as someone pounded on the front door. It was a heavy fist, angry and impatient, and his first thought was police<\/em>. Heart jammed in his throat, he crept over to the door and stood on tip-toes to peer through the peephole.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Not police. A man in plain clothes, though not someone Elias recognized. He couldn\u2019t make out much through the foggy lens, except that the man\u2019s expression was decidedly unfriendly and his hair was the color of straw. He pounded his fist against the door again, and shouted, \u201cI know you\u2019re home! I\u2019m not leaving until you answer the door.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The last thing Elias needed was something else <\/em>to anger his landlord, especially since he was chronically late with rent, so he quickly opened the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat the hell is your problem, man?\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou are. Elias Norr?\u201d The man pushed his way into the apartment, and Elias couldn\u2019t have stopped him if he tried. He was a big man, taller than Elias by at least six inches and built like a linebacker\u2014broad chest, broad shoulders, broad everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe Celestial Woman,\u201d the man said. \u201cIt was stolen from the Art Institute six months ago. The police finally arrested someone last week.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood for them,\u201d Elias said. \u201cI don\u2019t know what that has to do with me, so get out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThey arrested the wrong person.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Elias rolled his eyes. \u201cDid they scan the suspect\u2019s memories?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOf course,\u201d the man said. \u201cThe suspect\u2014my friend<\/em>\u2014has a set of memories showing that he was the one who stole the Celestial Woman.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThen it sounds like they\u2019ve done their job right for once.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe memory is false,\u201d the man said, \u201cand you\u2019re <\/em>the one who created it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Elias\u2019s heart tripped in his chest. \u201cWhat are you talking about? I work for Neuroluxe. We don\u2019t create memories about crimes<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou do when you\u2019re off the clock,\u201d the man said. \u201cYou\u2019re good at covering your tracks, Norr, I\u2019ll give you that. Took me almost a month to untangle all the threads and trace them back to you. I still don\u2019t know who hired you or why they wanted to pin this theft on my friend, but I do <\/em>know that you\u2019re the one responsible for creating the memory in the first place. You\u2019re going to undo it, or I\u2019m going to turn all my evidence over to the police and expose you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLook, I didn\u2019t do this, but I can <\/em>help, okay?\u201d Elias held up his hands. \u201cI\u2019m a memory artist, it\u2019s kind of what I do for a living. Your friend gets an appeal, right? I\u2019ll just create a memory for him that overwrites the one that shows the art theft. You\u2019ll have to get it to him somehow before the appeal. The police will scan his memories again, and voila! It turns out their original scanner must have been faulty, because the memory is no longer there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man hesitated. \u201cIt has to be indistinguishable from a real memory. No false memory markers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s the idea,\u201d Elias said. \u201cIt\u2019ll cost you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI can pay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTwenty thousand creds.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s not a problem.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHalf upfront, today<\/em>, and half upon delivery.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man nodded like it was nothing. It probably was <\/em>nothing, to him. The clothes he was wearing likely cost more than Elias made in a month.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWho are <\/em>you?\u201d Elias blurted, and the tips of the man\u2019s ears went pink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThane Selwyn,\u201d he said, and Elias\u2019s eyes widened. A member of the Selwyn family, famous for Selwyn Industries. Not the head of the company, who Elias knew was ancient as hell, but maybe one of his sons or grandsons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhen\u2019s the appeal?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThree weeks, so I want the product in two.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDeal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Selwyn stared at him, like he couldn\u2019t believe it had been this easy. \u201cDo I\u2026sign a contract or something?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFuck, no. You do <\/em>realize what you\u2019re asking for is extremely <\/em>illegal, right?\u201d It technically wasn\u2019t even possible\u2014false memories were always detectable, and even if they weren\u2019t, memory artists were required to leave tags in the memories they created, markers that let a scanner know that the memory was an invented one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Except that Elias had figured out how to make false memories indistinguishable from real ones. He could create memories that even scanners wouldn\u2019t register as false, and he picked up commissions through the black market for these valuable commodities. He never saw his clients though, never met them, and never signed any <\/em>paperwork. He didn\u2019t ask questions, either. He did a commission, he delivered it to a third-party, and he got paid in various untraceable ways.<\/p>\n\n\n\n How the hell had this <\/em>guy found him, then?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Still, he wasn\u2019t about to turn down money, especially since Selwyn let him name an outrageous price and hadn\u2019t even balked at it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat happens now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou pay,\u201d Elias said, holding out his hand. \u201cI assume you have untraceable creds? Half upfront, half on delivery. You do not <\/em>come here again. If you have to get in contact, do it through a proxy. We can\u2019t be seen together. We agree on a delivery date and place, and I\u2019ll be there. Otherwise, you get out of my way and let me work.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHow do I know you\u2019ll actually come through?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou don\u2019t,\u201d Elias said. \u201cBut look where I\u2019m living. You think I want to turn down that kind of money? You\u2019ll get your memory.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAll right,\u201d Selwyn said. \u201cDelivery two weeks from today. I could\u2026find a warehouse for us to meet?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou watch too many movies,\u201d Elias said, rolling his eyes. \u201cWe\u2019ll meet on your turf. Say, your office? Near the end of the workday? You can pencil me in as a client.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Selwyn\u2019s eyes swept him head to toe. \u201cI don\u2019t think anyone would believe that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cRude<\/em>. Figure it out anyway.\u201d Emboldened, Elias reached out and walked his fingers up that broad chest. Selwyn\u2019s eyes widened. \u201cI want to see where a fancy guy like you works.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Selwyn cleared his throat. \u201cI\u2019ll send you a time and the location once I have\u2026added you to my calendar.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGreat. Now pay me and get out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n #<\/p>\n\n\n\n Crafting a memory was as much art as it was science\u2014in fact, Elias would argue that it was more <\/em>art than science, which was what had drawn him to the profession in the first place. He\u2019d started out as an art major before switching to graphic design, but then he had discovered the niche memory artist degree and pursued that instead, much to his parents\u2019 chagrin. It was a booming industry and made sense at the time, but competition was fierce, and in his decade in the field, he had only managed to claw his way up to the illustrious position of Memory Artist II at Neuroluxe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He was twenty-eight, living with the same roommate and in the same apartment he\u2019d had since he was nineteen, and rent and groceries kept going up every year while his meagre salary stayed the same. When he first began freelancing, it had been for legitimate projects, and it had been purely by accident that he stumbled onto the black market side of things. It had been freeing, the ability to stretch his design skills in this way, not bound by the regulations of the memory artist industry he had to follow during the day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The money was good. The money was spectacular<\/em>. If he could take illegal commissions all the time, he\u2019d be a millionaire already, but he had to be careful. He could only take a couple here and there, making sure his tracks were untraceable, and then he would lay low for a couple of months to make sure the authorities hadn\u2019t caught on. Then, he could re-emerge and find a few more. It was a slow way of building up some kind of financial security, and he wasn\u2019t about to do anything to jeopardize it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Including falling for broad-shouldered, green-eyed men who barged into his apartment and shoved him around. That had been kind of hot, and Selwyn was nice to look at. Still, he couldn\u2019t let it distract him from the job at hand, and the money it would bring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Selwyn\u2019s commission helped him through the drudgery of his days at Neuroluxe. He turned the project over in his mind as he constructed memories of lavish vacations or elaborate birthday parties, imagining all the details he would add to the memory to give it legitimacy, how he would make it undetectable to the memory scanners. The project consumed him each night, and he thrived<\/em>. He loved the excitement of illicit projects like this one, loved the ability to stretch his artistic abilities to their very limits, and especially <\/em>loved the ten thousand creds that would land in his secret account when it was all over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Selwyn took to calling him every couple of days. At first, it had been to check on how the project was going, but soon enough their conversations veered off in other directions. Elias was somewhat dismayed to find out that Selwyn was easy <\/em>to talk to, and his dry sense of humor was appealing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019re sure this is a secure line, fancy tech guy?\u201d Elias asked one evening. He had three large monitors on his desk where he did work for his commissions, and a smaller portable screen that he had set up near his elbow. Selwyn\u2019s face filled this screen. \u201cNo one\u2019s listening in or recording this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOf course not.\u201d Selwyn sounded affronted. \u201cI\u2019m not an idiot<\/em>. We always speak on a secure line.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo no one\u2019s going to hear me ask if there\u2019s a Mrs. Thane Selwyn in the picture?\u201d Elias winked at him. \u201cNot that that would stop me, truthfully.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Selwyn sputtered for a minute before stammering out, \u201cNo, there isn\u2019t, and\u2014and that would be cheating <\/em>if there were!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSure,\u201d Elias said with a shrug, \u201cbut if there\u2019s one thing I\u2019ve learned in life, it\u2019s that you have to take what you want. Steal it, if you have to. No one\u2019s going to hand it to you, so you have to grab it for yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI am not something to steal<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Elias grinned. \u201cDoes that mean you\u2019ll give <\/em>yourself to me instead?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Selwyn was beet-red now, and it was adorable. \u201cGood night<\/em>, Norr.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Elias winked at him. \u201cNight, big guy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n #<\/p>\n\n\n\n It took Elias twelve days to construct the memory, and then he spent thirty-six hours over the weekend testing it, looking for any possible weakness that would trip the scanners and alert them to a false memory. He came back with none. The memory was airtight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane penciled Elias in for a Monday afternoon, an hour after most of the office would have gone home. Elias gave his name to the front desk, and he was buzzed through a set of glass doors to a private elevator that took him up to Thane\u2019s office.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFancy place,\u201d Elias said, leaning against the door frame. God<\/em>, Thane looked good in a suit. Clean-cut and gorgeous, but it also did nothing to diminish his imposing frame. Elias wanted to climb him like a tree, and then rip it off him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI see you found it without issues.\u201d Thane got up from behind his desk and came over to him, hand outstretched. \u201cThank you for coming. I take it you have the product?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTested and ready to go. You have the creds?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane rolled his eyes. \u201cI\u2019m good for the money. May I see it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSure.\u201d Elias pulled the small device out of his pocket. It was shaped like an oval and fit neatly into the palm of his hand. \u201cIt\u2019s right here. Have you ever implanted a memory before?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane shook his head. Of course he hadn\u2019t\u2014it wasn\u2019t something most people knew how to do or bothered with. They left it to the experts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Or people like Elias.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s easy. The trick will be doing it while no one\u2019s watching, but that\u2019s your problem to figure out, not mine.\u201d Elias raised a hand, gesturing at Thane\u2019s neck. \u201cMay I?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane turned his head, and Elias brushed a hand through his fine hair, pushing it aside to expose the port on the back of his neck, the one that everyone had installed at birth. He pulled a second device out of his pocket, showing it to Thane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThis is a dummy,\u201d he said. \u201cJust to show you how it works. You press it into the port, leave it there for a few minutes, and then remove it. It takes about half an hour to an hour for the new memory to solidify. Once it incorporates into the subject\u2019s synapses, it will be indistinguishable from a real one. The subject may be woozy for a while, but it will pass.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane let out a slow breath. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHey, you paid for it.\u201d Elias set the other device on the desk. \u201cAnything else?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes.\u201d Thane caught his wrist. \u201cDinner.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDinner?\u201d Elias let a slow smile spread across his face as he slid into Thane\u2019s space, pressing against the other man. \u201cI don\u2019t go to dinner with men I haven\u2019t kissed yet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2026don\u2019t believe that\u2019s the proper order of doing things.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLoosen up a bit, Selwyn,\u201d Elias said, and he tilted his head up to press a gentle kiss against Thane\u2019s mouth. Thane responded immediately, pulling Elias to him and parting his lips under the gentle press of Elias\u2019s tongue. Elias wound his arms around Thane\u2019s neck, luxuriating in the kiss. Thane\u2019s broad hands cupped his hips, and Elias committed every bit of it to memory\u2014Thane\u2019s taste, his smell, the feel of him through the suit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Elias whined when Thane pulled back, but the other man reached around and grabbed a small screen off his desk. He tapped it, entered a few commands, and said, \u201cThere. You\u2019ve been paid in full\u2014yes<\/em>, the creds are untraceable. I am no longer your client. Come here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The command sent a zing of pleasure down Elias\u2019s spine, and he was only too happy to comply. They made out against Thane\u2019s desk for a long while, until Thane broke the kiss once more and rested his forehead against Elias\u2019s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSorry,\u201d he mumbled. \u201cJust\u2026feeling a bit dizzy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLet\u2019s sit down.\u201d Elias steered him over to the couch. \u201cWant some water?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSure.\u201d Thane rubbed his temples while Elias fetched a bottle of overpriced water from the refrigerator. \u201cSorry, I don\u2019t know what\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He trailed off, blinking rapidly. Elias unscrewed the cap and handed him the bottle, then pulled over one of the chairs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLike I said, you\u2019re going to feel weak and woozy for a bit. A little bit like you\u2019re drunk. It\u2019ll pass.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane stared at him. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe memory is still solidifying. You\u2019ll have it soon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBut I didn\u2019t\u2014you said\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI lied,\u201d Elias said. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t a dummy. In a few minutes, you\u2019re going to remember being responsible for a high-profile murder, and when the police scan your memories, they\u2019ll find that they\u2019re real. They\u2019ll also find details in the memory that hadn\u2019t been released to the public, so there\u2019s no question that you\u2019re the one who did it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBut.\u201d Thane was having trouble focusing on him, and Elias pressed him back against the couch, settling him against the cushions. \u201cElias, why<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt was a nice idea, having someone know my secret. Dating them, sharing every part of my life with them,\u201d Elias said, cupping Thane\u2019s cheek. \u201cBut I can\u2019t take that risk. I can\u2019t have anyone <\/em>know what I do. My commissions excite <\/em>me. They make life interesting. They also pay the bills. Someday, I might even be able to retire, and who can say that these days if they weren\u2019t born into wealth? Anyone who knows that secret is a threat to my livelihood and my future, and I can\u2019t risk that. I\u2019ve worked too hard for it. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cElias\u2026\u201d Thane\u2019s words were thick, like he was drunk. \u201cPlease\u2026please don\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019ll be okay.\u201d Elias stroked his thumb across Thane\u2019s cheekbone. \u201cYour family\u2019s rich. They have influence. The death penalty was outlawed years ago, so you don\u2019t have to worry about that. You\u2019ll be in prison for life, but they\u2019ll make sure it\u2019s a good one. I\u2019m sorry, Thane, but the work is too important to me. I\u2019m selfish like that, I guess. I can\u2019t let anything get in the way of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n #<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane had paid handsomely, as promised, and Elias used an app to hire a private car for the ride home. He never <\/em>got to indulge in something so luxurious as a private car, with real leather seats and a minibar he didn\u2019t have to pay for.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As the car drove smoothly through the streets, he flipped through the pictures on his phone. He had downloaded a handful from Thane\u2019s social media. It wouldn\u2019t be difficult to construct a set of memories that depicted them in a relationship\u2014a few romantic dinners, some trips abroad, a lot of truly mind-blowing sex. Would Elias have preferred the real thing? To a certain extent, but not enough to risk his livelihood. This was the best of both worlds\u2014his freelance work was safe, and <\/em>he could construct a reality where he had a handsome boyfriend. Win-win, in his opinion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Elias switched over to the keypad and dialed a number. Someone answered on the first ring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c911, what\u2019s your emergency?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, I\u2019m trying to reach the tipline.\u201d Elias took a sip of complimentary champagne. \u201cI have some information about the murder of Astrid Phoenix.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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