The train thrummed like a live wire, the cheap wooden seats rattling as we screamed out of the subway station. Dim purple neon strips flickered in and out of life, fighting the darkness of the surrounding tunnels, before settling into a glow that cast more shadows than it banished. I coughed, a hacking, phlegmy wetness that rose from deep in my lungs, sending spasms of nerve pain shooting down my aching back. Fucking humidity down here always hit me like that. I might as well be standing in a shower. I wrapped my mini jacket around me tighter, reaching into a pocket for my inhaler when my finger found the stamp-sized chem patch I’d been saving. My last one.
How long had it been? The last flashback had been in the reclamation yards, and that had to have been at least an hour ago, so it should be okay to take another dose. Probably. I turned the patch over and over, rubbing the bobbled surface of the wrapper as I waited, shivering despite the stifling heat in the carriage. I eyed the other passengers. Just rats, trapped in suits and exhausted from a day of working to make other people rich. None of them looked like narcos, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Any second now…
Flick. The lights were starting to fail again.
Flick.
Fli-
Blackout.
I yanked the patch out of my pocket and pushed it onto the back of my neck, waited for the icy acid sting where the bobbles broke, taking care to pull my hair over the liquid that would by now have stained my skin a tell-tale green.
The blackness turned to blinding white, and I was on a beach. The sting of salt hit me, and the spray of the waves was cooling under the summer sun.
“They didn’t have any vanilla, so I got you mint instead.”
James returned, carrying ice cream as he walked awkwardly in his flip-flops. He held one out to me and I took it, the words coming out of my mouth without my control.
“Who doesn’t have vanilla?! Thank you, love.” Sticky rivers ran through my fingers as I gazed at the horizon, the cloudless sky making it impossible to look at the water without squinting.
Without warning, I lurched forwards, falling towards the sea. I waited for the inevitable wet smack of the waves, but instead my head hit cold, hard metal.

I blinked, looking around as the other passengers resolved into view again. Nobody moved towards me. No law. Just rats. I breathed a sigh of relief. The lingering scent of the salt and the taste of synthetic mint played on my tongue, jarring against the stale odour of sweat that was a permanent fixture on the subway. The corners of my lips twitched in a half smile as I let the pleasant sensation wash over me. It was only a shame it had been so short. Maybe if I’d been more patient, I might have enjoyed that beach for longer. Still, if I’d waited, I may have had another experience altogether, there was no telling with cheap MeM patches like these. I dreamed of one day getting my hands on a premium one, from a real pleasure clinic, ones with fixed memories, but even if I sold an organ for the credits, I’d never be allowed in the door. Gotta have real connections for that.
“The next stop is Food Quarter, station 3 – Outskirts,” the androgynous robotic intercom called. We slowed to a stop, and the raucous call of hawkers and vendors spilled into the carriage through the opened doors, a mix of the blaring vid screens the shops had outside and the hubbub of Friday night revellers. I didn’t move. This wasn’t my station, although I could get home this way. It was better to wait for a couple of stops and get off at the inner station in the food quarter; that way, I’d avoid having to walk through the red zone at night. Besides, the patch was active for a few more memories. I may as well relax and enjoy the journey.

The staccato rhythm of the wheels shifted, underlaid by another sound. The pounding of drums. Akoje was laughing as he danced to the beat, bright teeth gleaming against the firelight.
“It is time! The time has come! Time to become a man!”
Ululations and whoops of joy echoed around the circle as I felt myself being thrust forward to my knees on the dry, ochre dirt on the floor of the Elder’s home.
“Drink! Drink!” He lifted my face and poured clear liquid into my mouth. Hot, foul and disgusting; I tried not to choke. Was it poison? Had they poisoned me? Something was surging up from within, something noxious. I was suddenly afraid, Death’s cold fingers clinging around my heart. What if I wasn’t ready to become a man?! It came then, something rising up my throat that felt like the end. I doubled over and burped. The room burst into laughter and cheers, and Akoje pulled me to my feet, smiling.
Smack.
The frame of the window had left another dent in my head, shocking me again. At least that one had lasted longer, and the sense of pride and warmth that the boy had felt at the end lingered. Beautiful. My joy was short-lived as the skin on the base of my neck stood up. Somebody was staring at me. At the far end of the carriage stood a tall man, thin and impeccably dressed in a slick black suit, much nicer than any rat could afford, partially hidden behind a group of elderly ladies. Something about him made me uncomfortable. His salamander eyes were fixed on my face, and as he noticed me looking at him, his head tilted to one side, considering.
The lights blinked out again, just for a moment. They came back on within a few seconds this time, and the man appeared much closer. He was standing in the middle of the aisle now, hanging onto the ceiling straps, and still staring at me, unblinking. My pulse began racing. I had to get out of this enclosed carriage.
“The next stop is Food Quarter, station 2 – Middle District”.
The doors had barely opened when I leapt out and ran into the crowd, headed for the red zone. Here, the streets were incredibly narrow and crowded. It was the home of the street gangs and muggers, as well as the seedier drinking houses, not a place to stick around as an outsider. I pushed through the crowds, navigating the neon avenues as fast as my shaking legs would allow, past the tall windowfronts packed with companion dancers and worse, punctuated by the resonant thumping sub bass of atomic dance music. I had waded through a few streets when I started to slow, my heart pounding and my lungs screeching. I fumbled for my inhaler. It wasn’t smart to exert myself this close to patching. The dealer said that was the surest way to trigger negative memories. I needed a place to rest, have a drink, and pull myself together. Ducking into the nearest bar, I pulled up a stool in a booth. The place was so old-fashioned it still had paper menus, incense burners and an open kitchen where the chefs still used real fire. Tourists loved this kind of crap. It didn’t take long for the waitress to bring me an ice-cold beer.
“Food?”
“No thanks.”
“You sure? We’ve got the finest yakitori on the street here,” she leaned over, grinning inanely.
I reconsidered and ordered some. It came and I ate slowly, feeling better. I must have imagined the guy on the train had been looking my way. There’s no way that law would waste time on small fry like me. Patching always made me paranoid. I drained my beer and relaxed.
“Three cheers for Gennaro and Maria!” Mama called out to the table, and we responded by cheering and banging our fists loudly. The sun streamed through the lemon trees, and the sweet scent of flowers danced through the air. Papa placed huge platters down on the trestle in front of us.
“Come on, eat up now.”
“Oh Papa, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble!” Gennaro beamed, hugging our father.
“Don’t be silly, it’s not every day your eldest son gets engaged. That calls for ravioli!”
Maria was talking to Mama, little red petals woven through her long blonde hair. They looked knowingly at me and laughed. Then their faces started melting.
“Hello,” a voice said.
Sunlight and darkness coalesced, confusion washing over me. I tried blinking, but I couldn’t see properly. My head seared, a hot iron branding behind my temples. I groaned, and slowly the room came back into view. He was standing in front of me. The man in the dark suit. How had he found me? I tried jumping up, but it was too close to the memory. I fell to the floor, beer bottle smashing to the ground, shards of glass cutting ribbons into my hands.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“There’s a cost for taking the past from others.” His voice was quiet. Soft. “Memories must come from somewhere.”
He reached inside his suit jacket, but I threw the glass at his face as I scrambled to my feet, sprinting out of the door into the night without looking back. I turned randomly left and right, until the lights gradually died out and I found myself on an old street. Really old. Wooden houses that hadn’t been inhabited for decades as they became drowned in darkness by the overpasses, and the dusty soil turned lifeless from overuse.
I fell to the dirt, exhausted. My cough returned, and I hacked my lungs up whilst I searched my pockets for my inhaler. It wasn’t there. Fuck. I must have dropped it. Shaking as the fear and adrenaline coursed through my veins, I slumped against a wall to try and calm my breathing.
The water was ice around me as I struggled to tread the waves. I had no idea how long I’d been here, but I was losing strength fast. I panicked and gulped a lungful of stinging sea water before I was pulled under. Dark. It was so dark down here. I fought to get back to the surface as my capillaries screamed. Forcing my heavy legs to kick up, I burst back into the air and vomited. I gasped for breath and scanned the horizon desperately. There! Was that a boat? Finally, the lifeguard had found me! All I had to do was wait. The soft, winking light on the prow came closer, bobbing up and down in a pulsing rhythm, until it became so bright it obscured the night sky.
It didn’t go away. There was nothing but incandescence.
I couldn’t move.
Where was I? Who was I?
A shape moved in the light, becoming an incoherent smudge as it drew closer. The smudge became a shadow, and then a suited figure, kneeling beside me in the dust.
I started to cry.
“Payment’s due,” he said, brushing back my hair before gently placing a cold metallic device at the nape of my neck. He smiled. “Tell me, what’s your happiest memory?”