The Memory Painter

He fought to keep his composure. Linz felt horrible. Why was she pushing him so hard to talk about something so painful?

But she had to know if her connection to Michael and Diana was as real as her connection to Origenes and Juliana. Bryan believed it was, and now she had to decide whether or not to believe him. She just wished her father would stop laying on the guilt.

“Why do I have to bring that pain back to the surface after all this time? Because some painter found a home movie in his father’s attic? Can’t you understand why I’m upset? Now, I am done with this conversation, and you are never to ask me about them again. Read the file, and you’ll understand my concern.”

Feeling like a traitor, Linz took the file and put it into her own briefcase. She stood up. “I’m not hungry. Have them cancel my order.”

Conrad reached out for her hand, but she pulled away. “I love you, Stormy. I’m just being a father,” he said.

“I know.” But for the first time in her life, Linz didn’t say the words back.



TWENTY-SIX

DAY 26—MARCH 3, 1982

We visited Finn. He was too distraught to talk at first and stayed in his bedroom. His apartment was shocking, a complete disaster. Dishes were dirty, things were broken. Diana sent me to the store for groceries while she cleaned. The smell of her homemade chicken soup finally brought Finn out.

He wasn’t ready to talk about his recalls and said he needed time, which I understand. It doesn’t help that his debilitating migraines won’t stop. After his third bowl of soup and a second beer, he finally opened up. He had made eye contact with Conrad when he had him pinned against the wall, and he had recognized in him people from his previous lives. He refused to go into detail, but Diana pressed until he told her. My stomach clenched with dread as he said the names: Septimus, Tarr, d’Anthès … men who had tried to kill me. I couldn’t speak. My body felt hollow. I know Diana felt the same alarm.

Finn believes that Conrad is feigning ignorance to hide his true intentions from us and his identities. I am beginning to agree. If Conrad is lying about not remembering, then we are all in danger. I am going to ask him to leave the group.

To make matters worse, after the visit with Finn, Diana remembered her life as Juliana. It was more traumatic for her than I could have imagined. I have done what I can to comfort her, but she must now learn to live with the unthinkable memory of being burned alive. I can only watch her struggle with the pain, and I can’t help but feel responsible. If I had never set out on this path, no one would have followed. In hindsight, I’ve realized that our minds shield us from memories that are meant to stay buried. The brain is its own galaxy, with more cells than stars in the Milky Way. The most powerful organ in the body, it rivals any supercomputer, processing 90,000 to 150,000 thoughts a day through billions of neurons and trillions of synaptic connections. Now that we have found a pathway to retrieving memories that before were inaccessible, we are perfecting its function too quickly.

When I awoke to Diana’s screams, I had to hold her to keep her from hurting herself as she remembered Juliana’s death. Every cry was a knife in my heart, and I knew I had to sabotage my own study. I will present Renovo as a failed drug and destroy our research. It is the only course left to take. The world is not ready for this. It would end our sense of time, ourselves, and the linear world as we know it.