Science fiction short story: Waiting for rain (Part 3/3)
The back of my neck heated up from the radiation from the chip. Suddenly, there was a faint “pop” of a fuse, and the images flooded into my head in a flash – my mother pouring hot sauce in my mouth, my mother making me kneel down facing the sun- only this time, I could see the woman’s face. It was not her. It was a different woman every time. And in a flash, the memories were gone, leaving a bitter taste in their wake.
My hand started to shiver from fatigue as I contacted my supervisor.
“Feeling better?” He asked.
“You are feeding me with false memories.” I wanted to sound angry, but my voice was that of despair.
He looked surprised for a second. But it was just for a second.
“It was only to help you,” he said, as a matter of factly.”It usually works. I guess it’s time we hire a new technician.”
I drew a deep breath to calm myself.
“I want to attend the funeral.”
“Do you see the weather outside? I am sorry. We can’t afford to lose anyone from the station now. We will arrange for a broadcast now in your screen.”
His image disappeared, and was replaced by a hologram of my mother in the cemetery. She was dressed in white. Her head looked strange without her hair. Her eyes were closed, and her face had a bluish tinge to it. I saw the laser being positioned over her. Someone was reading prayers aloud. A cold air rushed in through the open window, and I felt the surge of nostalgia hit me again. There was a beep and a flash. And the next instant, she was gone, blown away by the wind. My hands began to shiver again.
Suddenly, I knew what to do.
I entered the security code to lock my door; then I stuck my chair against the lock. I took a set of pliers, and wrenched open the chip from the back of my neck. A siren sounded somewhere. It was as if a curtain had been lifted from my eyes.
I opened all the windows, and let the stormy winds soak me. And then I saw it.
I was lying on the bed, my head on mother’s lap. It was raining heavily outside. There was a clap of thunder, and I shivered. Mother caressed my hair, and said, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Then she began to sing, the howling winds providing a backdrop for her voice. I hugged her, curling myself up in her warmth, feeling safer than I ever felt before.
The rain started. Cold water ran down my cheeks, mingled with the warmth of my tears. The overflow meter blinked again and again. Someone was trying to break the door. I just looked at the distant clouds, trying to see her face.
The End
Image: http://img.eltipografo.cl/media/2014/...
