The Duane Lee Chapman Memorial Bar and Grill, Sheffield Station; "Sniffer" Martinez, proprietor

[Athenian]

"Oh. for heavens sake, stop this ridiculous melodrama."

It was Graves. Stix, a mean killer even by Agency standards, was standing next to him blocking the entrance to Bay one. There was another man with them who looked like a doctor by his white coat. He had thick spectacles, was balding and had the least comforting demeanour of anyone in the medical profession.

"Carson, this has gone on long enough. I have to admit your detective skills are outstanding, but frankly, your sensitivity in psych-trauma is below amatuerish."

He gestured to the man in the coat.

"This is Bob. He's our Chief Medical Officer, and he has something to tell you."

Bob's accent was a strange mix of Liberty and Rheinland like someone from a poorly acted Frankenstein movie.

"Aha....Ms. Denver...or is it MacArthur? Aha...well...from the medical data, it would appear your brain has a lesion zat is inoperable. The damage to the tissue is severe. Any more unguided interference and casual attempts to recover your memories could have caused long-term damage, and possible psychosis."

He openly frowned at Carson.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Frau, I mean Dame Carson. But Miss Denver here needs professional help."

He turned to Carly.

"You have a choice, Miss Denver. We have perfected a new surgical technique that may assist you. However it is still at an experimental stage, and involves .... well ... a procedure you may find unsettling. Now, Herr Graves, here, he has attempted to engineer an environment where your difficulties with your amnesia might be limited, but it seems your brother's efforts mean we will have to act a little sooner than anticipated."

Graves lit a cigarette.

"Your choice, Denver. Forget De Virgo's mumbo-jumbo. He stalled for time for me. Ingenious guy. I liked the part where he said my knackers had been shot off. When you walked into our recruitment office, we said we'd put a roof over your head until such time as we could help you out. And this mess has meant I've had to get Bob here to move things along a little more quickly."

His voice wasn't unkind or harsh. In fact, it seemed that he was being genuinley affectionate towards Carson and Carly.

"Young women lost in this world don't always have the luck to meet people who possess some degree of humanity or civility. But you did."

He seemed to pause for a second to compose himself.

"It's your choice, Denver. Bob here can help you and try to end this nightmare once and for all, but there are risks involved. Either that or you leave now in this confused state and risk remaining like that for what's left of your life."

He made the slightest of gestures to Stix, who stood to one side.

"You aren't a criminal, Carly. The Agency has an employment contract signed by you that's as worthless as a Corsair's promise to turn vegetarian. If you leave now, I'll sign the form releasing you from service with the Agency myself."

He smilled.

"What's it gonna be, kid?"

---

Former member of "the most paranoid group of people in the community"
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