I could see them from high above in their white coats and uniforms crowding around me. All their faces looked intent and focused on me lying motionless on the white metal bed.

One tall female towered above the crowd and dictated orders. One attendant quickly handed her, who I assumed was in charge, electrical paddles. A second attendant stood by a large machine and flicked the switch. No one else was in the tiny cubicle.

The second attendant rubbed clear jelly on the paddles before the tall one pushed the electrical wands hard onto my chest. A small shock rocketed through me. I didn’t feel anything except peace. Every one of them stood still and observed me. No one spoke. They waited with all eyes transfixed on the machine. A straight green line flicked across the machine’s screen.

Then the tall one broke the fatal silence with another command. Instantly, the calm attendant responded and turned the dial up on the machine again. This time my body jumped almost off the bed. I wondered if they were torturing or helping me.

I couldn’t hear what the tall woman said. It seemed important as everyone turned toward her. Then they walked away. As she left the room, the helper placed the paddles back on the machine. I wondered if I was dead. A smile momentarily graced the head’s face as she wrote something on a folder at the end of the bed.

Meanwhile, I drifted around the room. From my perspective, I could see the dirt marks on the ceiling corners. Everything was white: tile floor, walls, and ceiling. However, it wasn’t ivory white, but a yellowing white that cracked and blistered on the faded wall.

My room wasn’t the only one. It lined up the first in a row of five, separated by a thin partition. No one else was in these bare cubicles. Outside this area various people, some bleeding others crying, waited in rows of seats. It must be a public hospital.

Somehow I could see all of this from high above. Strangely, I felt the deepest calm. White light shone around everything and everyone. Perhaps this meant everything and everyone had a life force. I don’t really know. Until this moment, I hadn’t considered matters of life and death. I think I was an atheist; I wasn’t sure. Suddenly, I felt myself falling faster, faster at great speed. I was descending down a cloudy tunnel.

With one deep breath I felt an electric jolt. In the next second, I fell hard into my body. My world now appeared smaller as I saw it from a normal perspective. Slowly, my eyes adjusted. As they opened, they felt heavy and swollen.

Bandages wrapped around my throbbing skull, but failed to ease the pain. Glancing down I saw big black bruises on top of my chest. I tried to lift my head, but couldn’t because it felt like a lead weight weighing heavy on my hard pillow. Out of the blue, I asked myself, ‘What was I doing here? How did I get here?’

The calm nurse approached me smiling.

‘You’re in the Alfred ER’

My words tried to come out but they wouldn’t

‘You’ve been in some kind of accident, but we don’t have details yet.’

She called the Doctor over who stood high above me.

‘This is a good sign. You’re recovering quicker than expected. We resuscitated you and you should continue to improve. All the signs are encouraging. We will monitor you carefully’

I could only murmur,

‘mmmmmmmm’

A splitting headache hit me, which was so severe I imagined it threatened to crack my head in two. Words slowly came out,

‘What happened?’

‘Car accident…Do you know your name?’

‘mmmmmm…No’

‘I see. Amnesia. Common with head injuries. Should be temporary though, so don’t worry.’

Don’t worry! How could I not worry? Here I was swollen and soar. I was totally senseless to what happened or who I was. All I knew from the medical staff was the name in my wallet was Richard Cummings. I didn’t even know what car I drove, let alone my job. I was clueless to whether I was married or had a family. Though, the name Richard Cummings seemed strangely familiar.

Waking up hours later, I was lucky to be in a large ward with many beds, yet no other patients. Unmistakably it was a public ward because it smelt of urine and had worn beds made of tarnishing metal. I tried to get comfortable, readjusted my worn pillow and poured a glass of tepid water. Now my head stopped throbbing. My eyes glanced down at my bruises, which appeared darker.

In the metal drawer beside my bed was my wallet, which I grabbed. Inside its pockets were photos of a wife and parents. I was unsure whether they were my mysterious wife’s parents or mine. These creased photos seemed to trigger a vision.

Clearly I saw myself playing as a child with a mechanical talking robot. Its metallic surface shone under the indoor lights and appeared more like plastic flesh than hard metal. A Mother walked into the room smiling the most beautiful wide grin. At that point I felt so much love it actually warmed me. Though, this face was not the same as in the wallet.

My thoughts were disturbed by two chiseled faced men with stern unsmiling faces walking toward me. They wore gleaming guns exposed on their hips and similar dark suits. Immediately I feared them.

‘Mr Cummings…Mr Richard Cummings…Detective Sorace and Phillips.’

‘Oh yes.’

‘We’re investigating your accident. We were wondering if any memory has returned, yet? Your doctor said your amnesia should be temporary.’

‘Well,…mmm…there’s no joy yet…I know my name and nothing else.’

Their permanent frowns seemed to sink further.

‘All right Mr Cummings. Here are our cards. Please ring as soon as anything returns…no matter how trivial…This is important.’

‘I see…What do you know about my accident, detectives?’

‘The strange thing about your accident is that no one else was involved. It’s probable that you ran off the road in the wet conditions. There are always more accidents in storms.’

Slightly confused I said,

‘At least no one else got hurt.’

‘Mmm..I guess so…like I said we don’t know everything yet…Though, we’ll attempt to find your family. I’m sure they are worried’

After an awkward silence and exchange of looks, the other detective said,

‘We’ll leave you to your recovery. Those look like some nasty bruises.’

‘I’ll ring you detectives, if I remember anything’, I said unconvinced.

With that, his mouth very slightly upturned into a partial smile. They turned nodding at each other and left the room. I watched their backs and heard the loud clunking of their thick-soled boots drum the floor with each heavy footstep. It occurred to me to be somewhat odd that their dress and demeanor was so similar, even interchangeable. Also, I wondered why detectives and not uniformed traffic officers were investigating a common car accident. Then what did I know, I couldn’t even remember my Mother.

Another person came into my room, but this time he was wheeled in on a stretcher by nurses. An awful stench of body odor combined with cheap wine escaped into the room.

‘New room mate for you mate,’ said the nurse making a circling gesture with his finger implying he was mad.

Minutes later I agreed; he was completely insane because he muttered irrational comments to an invisible man.

‘They want you. They come and get you. Not you…but someone else.

They want to make you a new person. They’ll steal you. Use your mind and body, wreck your souls…drain your sperm…’,

on and on he raved oblivious to either anyone else’s presence or reason.

I wanted to sleep, but couldn’t with this madman beside me.

‘Can you shut up, please mate’ I implored. It worked considering he shut up straight away but then started rocking in a fetal position. Like my Mum use to say, ‘silence is golden’. The silence allowed me to relax somewhat. Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to forget where I was.

Closing my eyes I could visualize something more; another recollection replayed before me. Music played from a string quartet. We stood at the altar in a gothic church with imposing internal arches. I could distinguish my mother sitting in the front pew. She was beaming that same addictive smile. A woman walked down the aisle shimmering in a pearl dress looking more graceful than these gothic arches. My memory must be returning, if in shattered remnants.

Instantly my vision disintegrated.

A nurse had walked into my room carrying a large yellow pill on the tray like it was some kind of benediction.

‘This will help prevent any infections.’

‘Do I have to take it? It’s enormous.’

‘If you want to get better, you do’, she insisted.

A choking reflex started as I tried to swallow it. I guess I had to do everything to get better. Besides, she stood there leering at me, ensuring I swallowed it. Checking my opened mouth to see that it was empty, she said,

‘You’ll feel better…Everything will be better soon…trust me…’

I confessed,

‘It’s all a mystery…so frustrating.’

Something about her domineering stance and persistent eyes prevented me from confessing my flashbacks.

‘I understand it must get you down…not knowing…It will all come back soon…You haven’t had any recall, yet have you,’ she asked leaning into my bed.

‘…no nothing at all…’, I lied and glanced sideways.

‘Why not brave the ozone and u.v.’ s and walk through the hydroponics Zen garden. It always uplifts patients…There’s even an industrial maze.’, she suggested lifting her tone.

‘Why not …I guess…Maybe I can breathe fresh air…well at least as fresh as it gets today…’

‘Pollution readings 5.6 and ozone danger is UV 20…Take the UV screens though, you don’t wan t to go blind.’

Anywhere would be better than here. Maybe the peace of the garden could soothe my conflicting memory. Escape form that schizoid near me would be welcomed too. So I grabbed my thick u.v protector face mask and today’s paper: The Age September 20, 2050.

The moving floor tread mill moved me along the ward past the imposing glass wall barrier between the public and elite ward. Compared to us in public, they luxuriated in teak beds and recently refurbished rooms painted in vibrating purples and ocean blues. Long ago, I had settled for the mid 21st century two level class systems.

You were either born elite or public. Mixed marriages were the only way to jump the class hierarchy, and they were rare. Still, I pined to be able to enter the elite class, rather than stinky old public. One day maybe my dreams could come to fruition; who knew their fate?

Once in the garden I could see the blistering sun hanging low today. Various industrial toxins mixed in the ozone coloring the sky with bleeding reds and purples. Glad to have my UV mask, preventing instantaneous cancers and blindness, I took in the plastic bonsai shaped azaleas. The shining metallic maze and water feature made the sound of a gushing waterfall. The nurse was right; it soothed me.

Wondering whether my flashbacks were real or illusionary, I stopped thinking as I noticed the detectives and doctor maneuvering into the maze.

Following them into the maze, without them seeing me, I stood at the next corner. Separated from them by the steel wall dripping water meant they wouldn’t see me.

Their words drifted over the trickling water.

‘We’re giving him memory shapers now.’

‘How long will they take to take effect?’

‘They work instantly, but will permanently alter his memory to our suggestions in a week.’

‘What if he doesn’t take them?’

‘ We ensure he takes them, otherwise his real life returns. We’ve only temporarily altered his brain’s memory regions.’

‘So I tell The Company all goes to plan, then?’

‘Yes we foresee no problems…no resistance. These memory shapers are very effective’

Running out before they noticed me, I was blinking blinded not by the sun or ozone, but by the truth. Nothing made any sense any longer. Were they reprogramming my memory with that yellow pill? What motivation would they have to steel then alter my identity? It was as if my life had become a tight ropewalker precariously balancing on a thin wire. I had just fallen off; but was it into reality or fantasy?

After returning to my room, I couldn’t get comfortable on my hospital bed. The stinking schizoid, next to me, raved incomprehensible statements. My frustration and anger made me want to punch him in the mouth. This couldn’t be real. Why would any company want to steel my identity? Though why would I have visions of a different mother and a wife?

Leaning over to pummel him, I made a fist and extended my hand. Before I could hit him, he grabbed it in his closed fist.

‘Listen. Listen. It’s important.’, the crazy man begged. I pulled my hand away waving it in the air.

‘You’re loony…completely nuts’

‘No I’m not. It’s an act.’

‘What…what the hell are you raving about now?’

‘I’m as sane as you…maybe more.’

‘That doesn’t make any sense at all.’

‘You know what’s going on. You suspect, don’t you?’

I had to confess to someone,

‘Well…mmm…yes…It’s strange, but I think they are reprogramming my memory and steeling my life.’

‘Yes…Yes…That’s exactly what they do-everyday. I’m only free because they think I’m mad.’

‘But why?...it makes no sense.’

‘It’s breeding. Rich elite singles who can’t find wives or husbands buy us publics. They buy husbands and wives to conceive a family.’

My face must have looked shocked as he continued,

‘Look I know its weird, but I promise you its true. every last syllable of it.’

I could see an idea erupt through his facial expressions,

‘Look…there are only two nurses on duty in this entire ward. I’ll create a diversion. You check the touch computer for your file. You’ll find who you really are and proof that some rich singles bought you. Your real life will be hidden there.’

‘ I think I am already married’

‘You probably are. They don’t care. Profit before people. They’ll tell your wife you died in the car accident. They have no ethics.’

Seeing my reluctance, he insisted,

‘Just do it. It’s your last chance before these mind shaper pills

reshape all your memories…just do it…do it…now’

Before I knew it, he started howling ripping the bed and ward apart. Thumping his head hard against the glass windows along the wall, he threatened to smash it. Two nurses sprang into action. They ran into the ward and attempted to subdue him.

This was my chance, maybe my last one. I slipt out into the empty nurses station while they were distracted. My sweaty hands fumbled on the touch screen to reveal recent inpatients’ files. Its neon glare made me squint. I looked up to check the time. Each second counted. Time seemed to slow down along with my breathing. In those long moments I let the wave of data wash over me. In a moment, I would be able to tell whether I was lost in some post traumatic fantasy or discovered a dangerous reality. The taste of salty dryness swelled in my mouth. I felt my heart beating and hands shaking. I tried to force myself to stop blinking, a nervous habit from childhood. There it was- my life. My file revealed everything. I soaked in it and relived my lost life.

My real name was Peter Stacking-married to Rebecca for five years- no children by choice-both in the public class- occupation: warehouse manager. Sold by former boss, Richard Cummings, into the company’s reprogramming program. Selected by his single daughter for 200 000 Aussie dragmas. Reprogramming guidelienes:…………………

A Nurse interrupted me pushing me backwards onto the floor. He had left the ward to get a tranquilizer and caught me in the act. At least know I knew who I really was. For a total of ten minutes I had total recall of my darling wife, beautiful single mother and former life.

Eventually all this would be permanently erased. Before I knew what was happening, they were dragging me off into a nearby closet sized room. Their strength surprised me. The more I resisted the stronger became their bruising grasp. Two nurses strapped my struggling body into the re-correction chair. Lasers would be directed into my memory cerebral regions. In another ten minutes my real life would be lost for good and new one started.