Chapter 4

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Shyla was already out of her depth, and getting more anxious every moment. Trying to blend in with the rest of the survivors from their world was proving even more difficult than she had anticipated. She had to constantly focus to keep herself from falling back into old habits: habits that didn't exist in their memory of her.

Her HDSF military training had made her cautious, with exemplary self-control, but the other half of her existence had no regard for such things. She had memories of a care-free life, with time spent relaxing with her friends with little self-awareness. She had memories of war, where even a moment's lapse of awareness could cost her her life. If she wanted to earn their trust, she had to adopt her more relaxed habits, something that her military half rejected completely.

When she talked, her voice sounded too lazy. When she walked, her steps felt unsteady. Even when she breathed, the sound made her want to stifle herself with her own hands. It was like torture.

She hadn't heard from the man who might be her father, and James was the only one who knew about her conflict. So when Tobias, Isaac, and Bryce ignored James's protests and dashed ahead into the park, she was relieved.

"Let them have their fun," she told him. "We could do with a little peace and quiet."

James sighed heavily, but nodded in agreement. "I would prefer we stick together, but that's basically impossible with this group. Jonas, let's meet up at the Ferris wheel if anything happens."

Jonas nodded, and then they split up, each going their separate way.

James and Shyla walked in silence as they took in the sights and sounds around them. The sky was only dimly lit by the setting sun, so that the lights that sparkled from every side seemed to blossom with each passing moment.

"I'm in the mood for a nice, slow ride after all that excitement," James suggested, indicating the Ferris wheel that towered above them.

"Sounds good to me," Shyla agreed. It probably wouldn't be enough to distract her from her worries, but she wanted to spend some time alone with James while she could. A Ferris wheel would be perfect for that.

There wasn't much of a line, so it wasn't long before they were rising into the air inside the enclosed box that dangled from the Ferris wheel. James watched out the window, his face lit up by the red and blue lights that pulsed as they rose.

"This is actually kind of nice," James said, eagerly waving down at the shrinking people below them.

Shyla didn't respond. She was remembering the state fairs she had gone to as a child; the Ferris wheel was one of her favorite rides. It was always so peaceful up here, lifted above the cares and concerns of life. Except now those memories felt wrong, like they belonged to someone else. She didn't think the Ferris wheel could take her high enough to lift her out of her troubles anymore.

James noticed her zoning out, and he put his hand over hers. "I never got to ask, but what happened to you?" he asked softly.

The question caught her off-guard, and it took Shyla a moment to answer. "Oh...I'm actually still trying to remember everything." That was true, at least.

James nodded sympathetically. "Double memory?" he asked.

She nodded, then fell silent when she realized the hand he was holding was her gloved hand.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not really, no. This glove is...wired into my nervous system, but it only hurt for a moment when it first linked to me." Or had it? She could very clearly remember having that arm ripped off in combat, then replaced with a cybernetic one. Was there really flesh and blood underneath that tough material? If there was, the glove had bonded too tightly to it for her to tell. "It allows me to link directly into anything with a computer and control it," she continued, trying to hide her doubt.

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