Read Online Athel by E. E. Giorgi - Free Book Online Page A

You guys have fun with that
thing, whatever it is.” She walks Taeh over to the dressing corner and starts
brushing her.
    “Really?”
I say. “You have to leave now just because we asked a few questions?” I look at
the guys, hoping they’ll say something, but Wes just stares vacantly ahead
while Lukas can’t keep his eyes away from the metal cylinder, a deep frown
etched in the middle of his forehead. He retrieves his data feeder and takes
pictures.
      “Come on, Dottie, why do you have to go
for a ride right now?” I ask. “We’re just trying to figure out what the cylinder
thingy is.”
    Akaela
doesn’t reply. It’s as though she’s fallen into one of her “moods.” I shrug it
off and barely take notice when, once she’s done bridling and saddling Taeh,
the two of them walk out of the stable.
    “What’s up
with her?” Wes asks. “It’s not like we didn’t believe her.”
    I shrug.
“Forget it. She’s just moody. What did you find out, Lukas?”
    Lukas sets
down his data feeder, his thin brows knitted in deep thought. “It could’ve been
an engram.”
    “Is that
what the cylinder is?” Wes asks.
    “No, not
the cylinder. What Akaela saw. The engram could explain the fake memory, the
fact that she remembered without having been there.”
    “What’s an
engram?” I ask.
    “An
implanted memory,” Lukas replies. “Not an actual memory, but one encoded in our nanobots. To the person who has it, it feels
like a true memory even though they never actually experienced it.”
    “Wicked,”
Wes says.
    Lukas
retrieves his data feeder. “There are many of those, randomly distributed among
the nanobots each Mayake gets at birth, but nobody knows who gets them.”
    “Why do we
even have them?” I wonder. “What’s the point of having a fake memory?”
    “Preserving
information,” Lukas replies. “It’s been used since Astraca burned to the ground
in 2065. Our great-grandparents’ memories are all we have left of its original
splendor.”
    “Akaela’s
memory can’t be as old as Astraca,” Wes objects. “Like I said, the forest
didn’t exist when the city burned down.”
    “No,”
Lukas replies. “But the object she found is. The outside isn’t shiny, like
metal usually is, but blackened instead. And while this could be caused by
oxidation”—he taps his data feeder—”that grime Akaela just wiped
off?”
    “Dirt from
the hollow root,” I say.
    “It could
be soot from the fire, too,” Lukas replies.
    Wes scratches
his head. “Even if the tree wasn’t there during the fire?”
    A sparkle
flashes in Lukas’s eyes. “Suppose somebody saved it from the fire and kept it
for many years. When he died, his children had it and then his children’s
children.” He grins, completely enthralled by his theory.
    “Then
what?” I say.
    “Then one
day something terrible happens, something that threatens the lives of many
people. So they grab the most valuable things they own and run.”
    “The 2189
attack,” Wes says.
    Lukas
nods. “That’s what I’m thinking, too. If you know your life is in danger, you
want to make sure you not only hide your valuables really well, but you also
find a way to preserve the information about all the hiding spots.”
    I pick up
the cylinder and brush a finger along the iris shutter. The blades are sealed
together and don’t yield. “Whoever hid this,” I say, reworking Lukas’s
hypothesis in my head, “recorded the memory and then sent it back through our
wireless network. The collective nanobots recorded the memory and then
redistributed it as our common knowledge.”
    “Exactly,”
Lukas confirms.
    “Somebody
hid it,” I say, “and then transferred the memory? When?”
    Lukas
shrugs. “I don’t know. Sometime before Akaela was born. The engram was placed
in the first available set of nanobots, ready to be shipped. Or maybe it was in
a chip. Did Akaela get any new implants recently?”
    I shake my
head, squeezing the cylinder in my fist.