He blinked in the bright light. Who was he? He did not know. Get up, an attempt was rewarded with the fact that he realized that his hands were tied loosely to the back of a chair. Not really tight, he could just shake it off, but they prevented him from simply jump up.
Instead, he looked around slowly. His vision was slightly blurred and it took a while before he could discern his surroundings. He was apparently in an empty office complex. Some abandoned desks stood around, through a cracked window shined weak sunlight, and he heard the distant howl of a siren and the sound of running electric motors that reached him from somewhere. He was probably in the second or third floor of the building, at least he could only see the sky and some distant skyscrapers through the broken window. It was warm and he sweated through his clothes. Outside, it had to be about thirty degrees and probably even more in here.
Beside him on a table lay an ID... and , as he noted in surprise a stack of Money.
The remaining fragments of his Memory doesn’t make sense at all bur as he looked further around, he saw , to his surprise, the screen of a television.
A few seconds later a picture of a gray wall began to appear on the screen.
A man, with tangled brown hair hanging into his sweaty face, appeared in the picture. His haunted eyes darted back and forth as if he keeps looking for something.
,, I ..., "the man's voice almost broke,,, Ok, Ok, Ok ... So, probably just now you push panic. Of course ... how much do you remember ... do we remember? Well, does not matter. "
He felt surprisingly quiet, against the prediction of the stranger, which only slowly did calm down himself.
,, Well, I'm just assuming that the amnesia hasn’t completely bombed I you back into the Stone Ages. Then you already know what Thoughttrade is. "
The nameless man swallowed. He knew this and yet ... what else? What year did they have? 2096. President of the united Central Europe ... was anyone. Who even cares? For fifty years, it did not matter. Europe was only a busted dream today held alive artificially. Reforms pursued reforms...
But he remembered the term Thoughttrading. . And slowly he became aware of the terrible truth of his situation.
,, Well buddy, it looks like we have sold us,. To whom? Well, you do not need to know that. I didn’t want to either.
The nameless man saw unsteadily up to his old self. No .. He could not understand him. He did not even know who he was.. now .
,, But he , or she, pays damn good for our life. So .. The memory loss is probably permanent; I guess everything else would have little meaning. Two people are walking around with the same memories is rather unfavorable. But let me tell you, we have made a good deal. The life of a small business man for... well, the money was to lie next to you. I hope. After this guy, or this woman ... I have never seen him or her, so after the customer now has my life, you know what was missing... When someone simply disappears this doesn’t stay unnoticed.”
Frantically the Nameless began to touch his face once he had shaken off the tie. The fine, just palpable knots and scars were all the evident he needed.
Then he looked at his hands again ... back at the man on the screen ... back to his hands.
The man ... his old self ,had white hands ... but his Fingers had a coffee brown shade.
,, Well, we both know from the news how this is running. One gets the memories and the appearance of the other ... and we get the money. It's really interesting. Basically the customer stops to exist. The only thing that differs us now from the customer is the DNA. And they are also working on this. But of course that is nothing an ethics committee would like to see. So far I now exist twice, ones myself and then there is the customer. He'll wake up tomorrow ... and won’t even know that he had ever lived a different life. "The figure on the screen paused in her monologue.
,, No wonder that the ES doent like this. .You can disappear and simply stop to exist. I've actually always thought it would be like death to wake up in a new life, without knowing it. But hey ... is not my life any longer. "His old self had to probably find this pretty funny, but the Nameless was not in the mute to laugh.
ES ... The European Security, an agency that coordinated the police in the EU since 2054. Of course, Thoughttrade was illegal, since the technology was available. Every criminal or terrorist could simply disappear as a different person, without the ability to trace back ever. It was not really a crime, because there were not the necessary laws, but the ethics committees and the churches were up in arms against it, and it was only a matter of time before it would be considered a misdeed.
But still it was lucrative.
The man looked at the pile of money on the table. Very lucrative.
,, Well, then, that, unless they have the amnesia-agent dosage is too high, you know, hopefully, that you need to disappear as quickly as possible. If they do, well, than I am now a Slavering idiot who has even forgotten how to walk.
A man without history and memory is still determined to attract unwanted Attraction. Especially today, where anything about anyone is stored and saved. Well, welcome to our new life. "
Swaying the man stood finally up, as the television went dark. He walked over to the table and took a look at the brand new passport. The Picture showed the face of a bald Man in his thirties. His skin was actually dark. At least now. Now .. he had not even known it otherwise. Whoever his former self had been , he now was someone else.
He quickly stuffed the money frets in a waiting trailer. He quickly looked into a mirror, lying on the ground. He did not look as bad as he had expected. He could live with that ... and two million in the bag, thought the nameless. A glance at the pass and the Name in the left upper corner. John Smith.
Not really a creative Name, but it would be enough. And as long as it would work, he had no reason to be dissatisfied.
John Smith left the dilapidated building complex and began a new life.
The bright sunlight blinded him for a moment. Before him led a flagstone path between several overgrown bushes, which stood in the summer air half withered. Behind him stood the abandoned office complex, the north side, as he now realized, was nothing but a ruin. Probably at some point it simply lacked the money to finish the construction.
Between the joints of the plates grew tares.
He ran through between the sprawling plants, and stepped through a gap in the fence around the area into the street. Here it was so hellishly busy that no one had noticed him ... and even if someone saw him most of them were probably too busy with their own problems, to grant him more than one surprised look.
He stopped for a short moment, and someone bumped into him immediately. Smith turned around, but who ever had been there, had already disappeared into the crowd. Like himself, he thought.
He began to move and was easy to go with the flow of the crowds. Two police officers at an crossing threw him a quick glance, but nothing more. One of them looked at his PDA, but then only shook his head.
John Smith stopped only one more time on his way to the next airport. H had arrived at an newsstand.
A quick glance at the front pages told him nothing, which he couldn’t remember anyway. Rising sea levels were still a major problem to the slowly sinking Venice, an official statement on the death of the last polar bears in captivity last year, and some messages on a street battle between protesters and police in Brussels. And of course its trigger had been money. That was the only thing that the policy was still interested in and that still heated tempers.
Where should they take the money for depts., retirement benefits or even the interest?
But all this did not matter to him any longer. He now had money. And he had lost nothing, at least nothing to which he could remember.
He would soon be as far away from Europe as possible, perhaps in one of the newly industrialized countries. Maybe India or even further, to the new Arab republics or New Zealand.
The man with no life disappeared into the crowded streets
