Chris Kennedy - From the Ashes

I dont see why you have to go, Doctor Briggs said. Youre finally healthy; cant you take some time andI dont knowrelax a little? Short and stocky, when she put her hands on her hips, she was an admirable representation of a fireplug. Not that I would ever tell her that.

I enjoyed living, despite my numerous near misses with the afterlife.

I smiled at Jane. She let me call her that when I was good, although today wasnt one of those days. Weve already been through this, I said. I smiled at her again, giving her my best smile, but even I could see it wasnt working.

You dont owe Boudreaux anything.

I shrugged and looked out the window, avoiding her gaze. I know that. Im not doing it for him. In the aftermath of the Corporate Wars, I had woken up without any idea of who or where I was. After finding out where I wasNew OrleansId helped get a family to Pensacola, Florida, then gone in search of my origins. Having been told that Luc Boudreaux might know who I was, I tracked him to Chattanooga, Tennessee, nearly losing my life several times along the way.

I finally found him and learned who I was, but he also gave me some bad newsin order to get all of my memories back, I would have to go to Philadelphia. There was an imprinter there which contained both of my personaemy normal, civilian one and my Agent one. I had been born Joshua Collins, and that was who I was when I was not on mission for the Obsidian Corporation. When they needed me, though, they would imprint me with my alter egothat of Stephen Spade, hostage rescue team leader. Due to the nature of the imprinter, I couldnt be both simultaneously; I was either one or the other, and only had the memories of one personality at a time.

Unfortunately, Id been in the process of changing from Collins to Spade when the bombs dropped, and the Obsidian office had lost power in the middle of the process. Collins had already been stripped away, but Spade hadnt yet been imprinted. In effect, I was no onea blank slate. Although I had the muscle memory of Spade, due to the number of missions Id run as him, I didnt fully know his skills, nor could I call upon them at will. I also had Collins baseline knowledge of many things, with the exception of anything related to my personality.

It was a hellish limbo to be trapped inknowing you had two personalities, but not being able to call on either onebut that was where I was until I could get to an imprinter that held my personalities in its database. Boudreauxthe former leader of the Agent programtold me the only operational imprinter with my personalities was in Phillybut it was being held by dozens of Agents in the Circus.

Yes, I said the Circusthe imprinter was being held by a large group of Clowns. According to Boudreaux, The Clown was an assassin imprint made by Obsidians corporate management. When the bombs started falling, they made about 40 Clowns to protect the corporate big wigs. Unfortunately, not only was the Clown an outstanding assassin, he was also totally psychopathic. Because, whats a clown, if he isnt psychopathic, right? While the term psychopathic clown doesnt necessarily have to be redundant, it certainly was in their case. The only way to get my personality backeither of themwas to figure out how to get past the Clowns to the imprinter.

Happily, as an HRT leader, that was something I was good at. When I was Stephen Spade, anyway; unfortunately, I currently wasnt. And never would be, unless I made it to the imprinter. That was some sort of Catch 22, I think, but when I tried to recall what a Catch 22 was, as often happened, my brain was unable to grasp the concept. Regardless, I felt the need to go and look; perhaps, once I saw the Circus, something would come to me. One thing was certainit wouldnt come to me while I sat in Clanton, Alabama. I finished buttoning up my shirt; it was the closest thing I had to an old Obsidian uniform, which might get me past someone if there wasnt a lot of light.

I realized Dr. Briggs was still staring at me, waiting for an answer. Im doing it for us, I finally said. I cant be the person you need me to be without being one or the other of me. Love starts by loving yourself, and if you dont know who you are, how can you do that?

I think thats a circular argument, she said, frowning. You have been not-you long enough that you now have a wide variety of memoriesincluding ones of methat you are going to lose whenifyou get one of your personalities back. How do I know youll still want me if you become Stephen or Joshua?

I will, I replied.

But how do you know? You cant remember going through the process, so how do you know who and what youll be when you do? Maybe your alter egos are assholes; maybe I wont like you.

But Im already an asshole, and you like me just fine. I tried my best smile again.

No, youre a smartass; theres a difference.

I know, I said with a wink, Ill leave myself a note that Im supposed to like you.

See? Smartass.

I walked over to her and took her hand. She didnt immediately pull away, which I took as a good sign; she was more worried than angry.

Ill be careful, I said. Im not going to try to break in and use the imprinter; I just want to look and see what it would take to do so. Ill be careful.