Rising Tomorrow (Roc de Chere Book 1) Mariana Morgan (most life changing books .txt) 📖

person who took over the investigation from me, Commissioner Louis Wagner, was also the person who had the aircar you were in shot down.’

Eloise blinked.

‘I don’t remember. I—What aircar? Shot down?’ She suddenly looked younger and more vulnerable.

‘Your memories are currently being affected by the drugs you were under at the time. It will take some time for you to put the pieces together. I promise it will all come back. Your memories are still there.’

Eloise looked uncertain. Then she winced, her arms rising up in an instinctive motion to protect her head as a torrent of memories physically assaulted her. ‘I need to go home!’

‘Ms Moretti, it would be extremely unsafe—’

‘No, you don’t understand. The VRP. I need to get home.’

‘The VRP was lost in the crash. A high-temperature propellant was tossed onto the wreck. Everything was burnt to ash. Nothing could have surv—’

‘The VRP still exists.’ Eloise’s eyes were focused and a little bit of colour had finally returned to her face. ‘The VRP that I studied at the 4th still exists. I made a copy. I sent it to myself. I need to get home!’

It was Gonzalez’s turn to blink. He couldn’t understand why this Elite civilian was suddenly so passionate about the investigation. But that wasn’t what he said, for something else had surprised him even more.

‘Ms Moretti, it is impossible to copy a play-only VRP,’ he said slowly, as if lecturing a child, wondering if the ordeal had actually damaged her faculty to think logically.

Eloise snorted like an annoyed cat, but then sobered up. She had no specific reason to distrust Gonzalez, but she wasn’t exactly willing to trust him either. The only person she ever trusted was Tilly. And dammit, Tilly wasn’t even a person.

‘Nothing is impossible if one knows how,’ she said instead, clutching desperately at the memories of the VRP’s code, instinctively pursuing what would calm her frayed nerves down. ‘I am the foremost expert on VR programming and technology in the Alliance. Trust me, an average programmer would have no clue how to copy a play-only VRP. After all, the protections are there to prevent unauthorised distribution or tinkering. Me? I can copy and tinker with any VRP. Some take a while. The damaged VRP Wagner gave me? It was child’s play.’

***

Ingram shook her head with amused disbelief. The bastard did it. He actually got her to calm down and listen. And if the Elite woman is right, we have the VRP and we are back in the game.

CHAPTER 18

Roc de Chere

Lac d’Annecy

Afro-European Alliance

Sunday 26 April 2725

DAY 7

Sometime later, after a shower, an easily digestible but calorific meal and a steady dose of water (she actually refused to drink coffee), Eloise was looking much stronger and steadier.

It was disconcerting to be away from Tilly. She found herself calling for her faithful companion a few times.

She struggled to adjust the water in the shower and automatically snapped at Tilly to do it for her. The lack of a reply tightened her chest, reminding her vaguely of sometime recently when she had called for the loyal servant and received no answer. The details of the event were still shrouded in fog, unclear. She tried to grope for them, but the harder she reached, the more focus she lost. It was irritating.

Her head was a confused mess. She could remember a lot right up to the point Bellefeuille showed up at her home. The memories weren’t sharp, and some details seemed lacking, but the overall impression was there. And then, the moment the XST sped up and she heard the word missile, it all became a blur. There were some flashes, mainly of fear and pain, but no proper awareness she could recall. It felt as if she was blind and deaf, unable to perceive the world around her. As someone who relied on visual input and eidetic memory, she felt robbed of her essence, of who she was. For the first time in her life she felt lonely, which seemed dumb given that for the first time in thirty years she was actually around people.

Her body felt equally strange: weak and sluggish. Her muscles were growing tired of the persistent tension. Not at all like her usual sharp, reactive self. Even trying to recall Gonzalez’s face was exhausting, as she realised her ability to store new details was badly impaired.

At first, she had thought Gonzalez was a giant, but now she knew she had made a mistake. She never made mistakes like that.

Shaking her head as if to physically move away from the negative train of thought, she refocused her attention on Gonzalez. She was determined to fix the earlier mistake, but continued to struggle to retain information. Her eyes moved from his short dark hair to his strangely expressive pale grey eyes, and she doubted she would be able to recognise his face among others.

Dammit, what is wrong with me?

Gonzalez was indeed a tall man, though nowhere near the giant she had thought when she first woke up. His body was built for power, perhaps at the slight expense of speed, and she felt oddly small and wiry in comparison. Almost cowed in his presence.

‘Ms Moretti, I’m glad you are doing better. I would like to introduce you—well, re-introduce, really—to a colleague of mine.’ Rivas was out again in his Stealthy and it had provided a good opportunity to expose Eloise to one new person at a time. ‘You have met before, and I think it may help you recover your memories more effectively.’

Despite the tremendous progress in science, full understanding of the human mind eluded the scientists. The mind and mental health continued to resist standardised approaches. What worked for one person often turned out to be close to useless for someone else.

Memory loss and associated problems were deeply puzzling. The inclusion of trauma or nano-drug overload in the equation further confused the situation. Treatment often involved trial and error as various solutions were investigated. The process was