Chapter 86
The Memory Passengers
The child joined them in the passage.
He called himself Peter.
“Is that your name?” Claire asked.
“It is the name my mother remembered.”
“Where is she?”
“In another room.”
The passage divided into twelve corridors. Each carried a different smell: soup, antiseptic, rain, smoke.
Ada listened at the walls.
“The memories are anchored to objects.”
Claire held the witness key. It vibrated toward the corridor smelling of cedar.
They followed it.
The corridor opened into a dining room filled with families. No one looked at them. Everyone waited for a meal that would never arrive.
At the head of the table sat Lena.
She wore the coat again.
“This is not you,” Claire said.
“No,” Lena answered. “It is what everyone remembers when they remember me.”
“Where is your body?”
“In the accident.”
Claire stopped.
Lena continued. “The body died. The witness did not.”
Mara closed her eyes.
“You knew.”
“I knew the record could survive.”
“You let Claire believe you were alive.”
“She needed someone to be angry with.”
Claire looked at the families around the table.
Every person had Lena's eyes.
“How many pieces are you?”
“Enough to make a sister.”
The table split down the middle.
Water rose beneath the plates.
Lena handed Claire a final button.
“Find the room where I forgot my face.”