Page 61 of The Forgotten Queen
“The brain is a very complex organ.” Von knew more than anyone how complex the brain was. He’d put in a lot of effort to make sure the princess wouldn’t remember anything. It was only a few months ago that he’d spent two weeks targeting her memories.
Von removed the IV drip he’d been using to keep the patient in a coma, replacing it with his new solution, the solution he’d named Isolated Amnesia. He’d purposely stopped the coma-inducing medicine forty-five minutes ago, and the patient was already starting to stir.
“Are you sure it’s wise to take her out of her coma?” Stoddard asked. He looked at Nurse Edmay as if he needed her to confirm what Von had already explained to the commander. “What if she remembers us? Or this hotel room?”
“She won’t.” Von turned up the drip of the new drug to full capacity. “We’ll block any memories she has.”
Commander Stoddard nodded. “I’m trusting you, Von. If this doesn’t work—”
“It will work,” Von said. The truth was he didn’t know if it would work. He’d done the math, researched what he could, but until he had a live patient, he wouldn’t know for sure.
The loading phase of the drug was the most critical phase of all. This was when they could pinpoint memories to block. If they missed something during this time, Von wasn’t sure they would be able to go back and redo it. This high concentration of a dose of the Isolated Amnesia drug might not be as effective again.
“Do you have the list of items?” Von asked.
Stoddard pulled out a folded paper from his pocket and held it up. “Tell me again, exactly what I’m supposed to do. I don’t want to mess anything up.”
“I’ll do the first one so you can see.” Von reached for the paper. He read the first item to himself and then leaned over the patient.
He jostled her arm, bringing her to more consciousness.
“Where am I?” she moaned.
Von got right in her face. “It’s time to focus.”
She lifted her eyelids open, barely able to keep them up.
“Who are you?” he asked.
She shook her head, thinking for a moment. “Seran.”
“You’re not Seran.” Repeat it with me. “I’m not Seran Alyssa Haslet.”
She waved her arm around, as if mesmerized by the needle sticking into the top of her hand.
“Focus,” Von said again. “I’m not Seran Alyssa Haslet.”
She squeezed her eyes tight then opened them again, looking back at him. “I’m not Seran Alyssa Haslet.” Her words came out slurred, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was what happened inside her brain—that the thought ‘Seran Alyssa Haslet’ and the memories associated with it were piqued so that the drug could find the neuron connection and block it.
“Say it again,” he said.
“I’m not Seran Alyssa Haslet.”
“Good.” He looked at Commander Stoddard, handing him back his paper. “You do the next one.”
Stoddard’s eyes were wide with worry. “This is going to take forever. How are we going to keep her subdued?”
“Don’t worry about that. The new drug keeps her in a foggy state.”
“What if we forget something?” Stoddard asked.
“I would say we err toward blocking more memories rather than less.” Von nodded toward the paper. “Let’s keep going while the drug is flowing.”
Stoddard stood. He leaned over the patient, getting close to her face like Von had shown. “You are not the princess of New Hope,” he said. “Repeat it with me. I am not the princess of New Hope.”
The patient rolled her head around. “I am not the princess of New Hope.”
Von looked at the guard standing next to the wagon. “In my professional opinion, her memory may never come back.”
