A friendly lunch

Joana tugged on her jacket and slipped her phone into her pocket as she leaned just slightly into the lab.

“Hey Robyn?” she called with an easy smile. “Feel like grabbing lunch? I owe you for covering that equipment invoice while I was out.”

Across the lab, Robyn looked up from her terminal, pen tucked behind one ear. “Lunch sounds perfect,” she said, stretching, her curvy silhouette accentuated by the soft cling of her turtleneck. “I’ve been running on fumes all morning.”

Joana grinned. “Then let’s refuel. My treat!”

The Brief Café on the edge of campus was quiet, tucked into the base of a converted brownstone. Small wooden tables, a faint aroma of roasted tomatoes and garlic, and just enough ambient chatter to provide privacy. Joana had picked it intentionally - somewhere Robyn would feel comfortable, somewhere familiar.

They ordered quickly. Panini and lentil soup for Robyn. Citrus chicken salad for Joana. Somehow, strangely...usual, Joana thought.

Joana leaned in slightly, her posture casual but eyes sharp behind her glasses. Her cleavage popped a little, a deliberate downblouse view to Robyn.

“So,” she began, “I was looking through some old files and noticed we never properly documented the departmental mixer two years ago. You remember that? The one with the open bar and those weird demonstration props?”

Robyn chuckled, swirling her spoon through her soup. “Oh god, yes. You wore that green dress, right? The one with the side slit? Everyone was stunned.”

Joana blinked.

Green dress? I wasn’t there. Jon wasn’t even invited.

Her pulse quickened momentarily, but she smiled. “I always wondered how I ended up giving that impromptu talk.”

“You were tipsy but brilliant,” Robyn said with a laugh. “Half the faculty was quoting you for weeks. I think Dr. Lam actually used your line about ‘entangled choices’ in a keynote.”

Joana nodded slowly. “Right. And Maddox spilled red wine on the dean, didn’t he?”

“Uh-huh.” Robyn smirked. “You teased him about it for months. Remember?”

Joana’s thoughts swirled. That memory didn’t happen. And yet Robyn spoke with certainty, warmth - even amusement. Whatever perception rewrite the RAC had done, it hadn’t just reshaped Robyn’s memories of Joana; it had rewritten shared history.

Fascinating. And terrifying.

“So... what about our first conference together?” Joana asked, sipping her iced tea. “Didn’t we stay up late trying to debug the prototype schematics in the hotel bar?”

“Oh definitely. You were half-convinced the dampeners needed to be inverted... and you were right. I still don’t know how you think so clearly on two glasses of whiskey and no sleep.”

Joana nearly choked. She remembered that conference - as Jon - but Jon had worked with Rob. Robyn’s memories had been backfilled with a new partner, a new friendship, one forged long before Joana technically existed.

“So weird you mention it though,” Robyn said suddenly, eyes distant. “Sometimes I feel like we’ve known each other longer than we actually have. Like... there’s some chapter I’m forgetting.”

Joana froze. Her heart leapt.

There.

That moment - the faint thread of unease. A crack in the perceived normal.

She leaned forward, eyes soft. “What do you mean?”

Robyn tapped her spoon against the side of her bowl. “I don’t know. Bad dreams, maybe? Or just déjà vu. Sometimes I wake up with this image in my head - a lab, the old one in sub-basement B, but with all the equipment wired differently. You’re not there. Someone else is. Someone I’m working with, but I can’t see their face.”

Joana swallowed. Her throat was dry.

“What do you feel, when that happens?”

Robyn looked down. “Like I lost something. Not bad... just unfinished.” She looked up again, her mocha skin glowing in the warm light. “You ever feel that way?”

Joana hesitated, then smiled faintly. “All the time.”

They ate quietly for a few minutes. The food had grown lukewarm, the conversation heavier.

The moment the lab door clicked shut behind them, Joana’s composure slipped. She moved briskly to her terminal and keyed in a lock-screen override, glancing over her shoulder to confirm Robyn was still at her desk.

Inside her private console, Joana pulled up Robyn’s overlay log.

No degradation. No instability. Reality anchors intact.

And yet… That dream. That feeling.

Was Robyn’s subconscious fighting through the overlay? Was the RAC’s transformation starting to plateau - or even unravel?

Joana stared at the console. She had a choice.

Let Robyn continue unknowing, her new life seamless but curated. Hell, with this much data, she could probably bulk up the memory overlay so she doesn't even have bad dreams anymore.

Or peel back the curtain. Show her the truth. Break the illusion.

It was a violation either way. But one was control - and the other, consent.

Joana’s fingers hovered over the keys.

A single line would restore Robyn’s memories of ever being Robert Crawthan. She had tested that function. She knew it worked. But once triggered, there was no erasing it. The awakening was permanent.

Would Robyn thank her? Would she be horrified?

Joana exhaled slowly, caught in the heavy silence of the lab.

“Am I a scientist,” she whispered, “or a goddamn sorceress?”

Her gaze drifted to the RAC, humming softly inside its containment chamber. Waiting.

“What happens if I let her remember?”