“So,” Damien said slowly.

“So,” I repeated. I leaned back in a chair that he had given to both Sapphire and I to sit on.

“If I understand this correctly, you’ve gotten yourself in a bit of a pickle trying to help this young lady,” the doctor said, gesturing towards Sapphire. “Now, the Sunbreakers and their police associates are after you. They’re not going to be knocking on my doors here anytime soon, are they? It would be very inconvenient.”

“Most likely not,” I said. “And generally, you have the idea of what happened.”

“Good,” he nodded. “Then let me ask another question. Why did you come here? It’s not necessarily the best place to hide as I’m sure you’re aware of.”

“I have something I want you to look at. You’re probably the only one that can help in this regard. I’m trying to track down Sapphire’s origins and I don’t have many leads. She has a number of mods though.”

“So you want me to analyze the modifications she has. Are there any particular traits you want to know? Do know that if her modifications delve into energy related technologies, I am going to be a lot less helpful.”

“Manufacturer for one,” I said. I thought for a few more seconds. “Maybe time of installation and functions as well. Main thing though is finding the source of her memory loss.”

“Oh, you don’t know what her modifications do?” the doctor asked with a raised brow. 

“Nope. Don’t think she does either.”

“Fascinating. Sapphire, do you mind if I take a look?”

Sapphire blinked, looking a bit surprised at her name suddenly being called.  She nodded without a word.

“Alright. I’ll take a look. I’m not sure what I can do about memory loss if it’s biological, but the other traits shouldn’t be too difficult to ascertain,” he said with a stroke of his white beard. “Sapphire, do you have any questions? You seem a bit lost.”

“I’m fine,” she replied.

“I would rather not have someone I’m about to examine be confused. Don’t be afraid. Ask away.”

Sapphire didn’t respond for a few moments. Her brow furrowed as she thought about her next words. When she looked serious, it did wonders in making her look older. I wondered, not for the last time, what kind of person she was before whatever befell her memory.

“What do you do?” she asked at last. Damien let out a hearty laugh.

“Interesting question,” he said. “I’m an engineer and a researcher. I used to be the head of the research department for Vulcan Technologies. Alas, they went out of business which left me adrift. I had plenty of money saved up though, so I went out on my own to pursue my own little hobbies and projects.”

“Vulcan?” Sapphire repeated.

“The name doesn’t ring a bell?” the doctor asked. When Sapphire shook her head, his expression fell for a moment. “I suppose you might be too young. Well then, small history lesson. Vulcan used to be the world’s leading company in weapons and technology. We held onto that crown for quite a while until energy technologies were developed and made kinetic ones obsolete in the eyes of the public. Now, everything uses hardlight and energy based technologies.”

“Oh. Okay.” She didn’t understand. “Um. What are you going to do?”

“Are you asking how I’m going to analyze your modifications?” Damien said. Sapphire nodded. “Ah. Simple enough. I have a scanner.” He pointed at a tubular structure in the back wall. “Just stand in there and I can get a detailed report on anything electrical in nature. I lack the equipment to do analyses on more biological alterations like genetic editing and nanite based technology.”

“Doctor,” I interjected. “She doesn’t understand half of what you just said.”

“Apologies,” he said sheepishly. “Um, I’m going to scan you and I’ll get data. Is that clear enough?”

“Yes. Thank you,” Sapphire replied, shooting me a look of gratitude. 

“Not today, mind you. It is late and I was in the middle of sleeping before I was alerted to you two in the tunnel. So, I will go back to catch up on my rest. In the meantime, do you two need shelter for the night?”

“No,” I said. “I have a place I can go to. We’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’ll see you then,” he nodded. “Good night, Fae. Sapphire.”

With that, he turned and went to a side room. He offered shelter, but I knew he had no spare rooms and furniture. It would have just been the floor and some pillows. 

“Come on,” I said to Sapphire. “I have a safehouse nearby. We have to go back down the tunnel first.”

Sapphire followed without any questions. We went back down the trapdoor and headed back to the small room that Sapphire waited in. There was another false wall there with another tunnel connected. 

“How many of these do you have?” Sapphire asked as we walked. 

“This is the last one,” I replied. “Damien helped me construct these with some of his tech along with a few friends. I haven’t had to use them in some time though.”

It was a rather difficult project. Digging tunnels in the ground was very illegal and very detectable. That was one of the reasons why I decided to live in the Junkyard. The place where everyone tosses out their useless scraps is the area where no one would care about any odd and dubious activities taking place. Coincidentally, that’s the same reason why Damien decided to set up his workplace here.

The safe room wasn’t terribly far and we reached it in a minute or two of walking. Another door later and there was the room. Everything seemed to be as I last left it. There was one small bed along with a desk and a chair. The desk had a laptop resting on top of it that was most likely dead after years of not being used. There was no food storage or toilets. It was meant to be a place to hide for a few hours. 

“We’re going to spend the night here then find a better place to stay tomorrow,” I said to Sapphire. “For now, we have a few hours to waste while the doctor gets his beauty sleep.”

I went to the laptop to test it out, leaving Sapphire to her own devices. Once I confirmed that it was indeed as dead as a pile of scraps, I watched Sapphire as she explored the tiny room. She wandered about in small circles, looking at the walls and ceiling as if reading invisible messages that only she could see. Then she moved her attention to the ground and did the same before ducking down to look under the bed. 

“What’s this?” she asked, her head still under the bed.

“Hmm?” I went over to see what it was she was referring to. “Let me take a look.”

Under the bed were two items: a box and a guitar. I pulled them out to give them a good look. A hazy memory of me strumming the strings in this very room to pass the time floated up from the recesses of  my mind. Opening the box, there were guitar strings and picks organized neatly inside. 

“I forgot all about these,” I murmured. I touched the fretboard and stroked the neck of the guitar. “I haven’t played in years. I wonder if the strings are still good.”

They were quite loose with their tuning pegs untightened. I probably had them like that since I wouldn’t be returning for sometime. I plucked at them for a bit, twisting the pegs until the notes were as in tune as I could get them. Afterwards, I gave them a quick strum. I frowned. It sounded a bit off. 

“I think the third string is wrong,” Sapphire said. I stared at her. 

“Which third?” I asked. She pointed at the G-string. When I plucked it, it rang flat. “Impressive. Thank you.”

I played with the guitar some more, doing a few scales to warm up and reacclimate. Then I began humming a small tune, harmonizing it with a few chords. Sapphire stayed quite the entire time. I glanced over at her, wondering if she had fallen asleep, but found her staring with such rapture that I lost my time. 

“Did I do something?” she worried.

“No,” I said with a soft smile. “I was just a bit surprised how focused you are.”

I held the guitar out. She reached out almost immediately, but stopped a centimeter short to shoot me a questioning look.

“You seem like you want to try,” I explained. “I can teach you if you want. Not many people are interested in playing nowadays.”

She took the guitar with unrestrained joy and held the guitar near perfectly. I thought she was just imitating how she saw me hold it until I saw her left hand. Those fingers were positioned almost exactly where you would put them for a G-chord. I narrowed my eyes. There was something here.

I sat behind her and took her hands, guiding them. I shifted her fingers through various chords, letting her strum the strings with every change. Her fingers moved with almost no guidance. With only a nudge, they would go to their correct position almost every time. There was no mistaking it.

“Sapphire,” I whispered, my head nearly on her shoulder. “You know how to play. In forgotten life, you learned how to play. Your mind might have forgotten, but your fingers haven’t.”

“Really?” she said with her eyes widening. 

“That’s the only possible explanation. This is wonderful news. It’s a clue.”

“What does it mean?”

“I’m not sure yet. I just know it’s a clue. Remember what I said? Not many know how to play instruments nowadays. The fact that you know, makes you special.”

She gave me an expression of such pure joy that I couldn’t help but grin as well. My mind was racing with the possibilities this information held. She had to have been taught and lessons were expensive. Not to mention that someone with such well enforced muscle memory probably had their own instrument to practice with in their spare time. It was another circle to the Venn diagram, a circle that was small enough to give meaningful insight.

“Let’s play some more,” I said, scooting away. “Maybe with some practice, you might be able to regain some memories.”

“Does it work like that?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Worth a try though. It’s fun anyway. Playing. What do you say?”

“Okay!”