Wiped Clean

"Unlock it," I told the Guard.

He swiped an electronic card over the reader, and with a click and a light chime, the door opened. I entered, finding you standing at the barred window, looking out upon the world three floors below you. I knew there wasn't much to see: this side of the hospital looked out upon nothing but flat, arid land that stretched clear to and beyond the horizon.

You turned to me with a surprising lack of emotion or concern in your face considering that you were fully naked. You asked, "Where am I?"

"You are in a hospital," I answered vaguely, looking over your impressively well sculpted body. If I hadn't been totally dedicated to my work as a medical scientist, you would have been just the type of person with whom I would have wanted to 'get busy'. "You were in an accident. I'm sorry to tell you this, but ... the tests are not hopeful."

"Tests...? I don't remember tests. In fact ... I don't remember anything. I ... I don't even remember my name."

"Yes, I know," I said with a feigned tone of concern. "You have amnesia ... and the tests that we've been running tell us that you will likely never recover your long term memories."

"I'll never remember who I was...?"

I shook my head.

"But ... the people who know and love me ... they can help, right? Tell me about my past...? Help me to remember...? Will that trigger old mem--"

"There are no people to trigger anything," I cut in. "You were found wandering the streets, no ID, nothing to identify where you came from or where you were going. The FBI both ran your finger prints and DNA. No hits. There's been no missing persons claim. I'm sorry to tell you this, but we don't know who you are or where you came from ... and it's unlikely that we ever will."

I set a neatly stacked pile of folded clothes on your bed. "Please put these on. When you are ready, the door will be unlocked and the Guard gone. You are not a prisoner here. My office is down the hall ... room 311. There is a commissary on the 2nd floor if you are hungry, but please do not ascend to the 4th floor or descend to the 1st floor. They are restricted. The hospital is on lock down because of a viral outbreak unrelated to your situation."

That was a lie, of course. You simply weren't allowed in those areas.

I hesitated for a moment, to see if there was anything more you had to say. When silence reigned, I left the room and returned to my office to study the charts of yet another 'mind wipe' patient, this one of the other gender. In all, I was supervising 17 patients. Some were only just now beginning their ****-induced amnesia procedure, others had new 'life stories' which would enable us to sell them to their new 'owners', and still others were somewhere in between.

As I entered my office, I didn't realize that the Guard normally stationed at the stair well at the end of the hall was missing, off helping other Guards with a 'difficult' patient. The stair well door led to the first floor and, ultimately, to an unguarded side entrance that led to the outside world.

The Patient I'd just talked to had, unfortunately, the ability to slip out of the hospital and into the world at large if that was the choice. I hoped that wouldn't happen. I hoped I would have a chance to present the Patient with the 'manufactured' life that was yet to reach my desk.

I had no idea who had 'purchased' this Patient. It might be a government agency with a need for an operative or untraceable, sacrificial lamb. It might be some rich man or woman with a sexual fetish better served by a '****' with no past. It might simply be a lonely suburbanite wanting to a spouse without the usual baggage.

There was no way for me to know this Patient's future. What happened to the Patients after I finished the 'mind wipe' and soothed them through their recovery procedure wasn't my concern...