Not Really

"Hi." She smiles a bit nervously. I'm conscious again of how close we are, but don't let it distract me.

"So," I tell her. "I think you saw a bit of my past back when we were being scanned, just like I saw some of yours. I don't remember a thing about who I used to be before I went down that corridor and I think you don't either. Maybe we should come clean with each other about what we saw. Maybe it would help us understand whatever's going on now."

"I don't think so," says Jane. She seems a bit nervous, like maybe she's hiding something-- but under these circumstances, I can't blame her for being nervous. "If we were right about the nexus, we're not from this reality, so why does it matter? Don't think about the problems, think about the opprotunities. This is an amazing opportunity, to just throw aside all the old baggage we may have had and start new lives. It's exciting, isn't it?"

"I don't know about you, but I've had quite enough excitement for a while," I say. "I mean, I barely understand any of this, I'd like to understand something."

"But think about it. Imagine all the disappointments and failures and mistakes you'd be carrying around if you had your memories. If you fall in love, you wouldn't have all your past relationships lying behind you to make you worry about how it might fail. You'd really get a chance to fall in love for the first time, and really make it count."

She turns on her million-watt smile and I feel like I'm melting into her, but I hold firm. "You certainly are a hopeless romantic. I like that. I'm not, though. I understand you may not want to know who you were, but I do. Maybe if I knew I'd be able to get more of a footing on this situation. I can't understand anything becuase I don't even know who I am."

"Are you sure you want to know?" She seems geniuinely troubled. "I barely know anything about you. Maybe in your old life you were a murderer, or worse." I'm about to say something in response when I remember the gun in my old body. Why the hell was I carrying a gun to the grocery store? And then I remember the gut-wrenching fear she felt when she was running away, and shudder a bit.

"Yeah," I tell her, smiling a phony smile. "I guess you're right. Maybe we would be better off not knowing." But I don't quite mean it. There's a part of me that has to know the answer, whatever that might mean. Still, she's right, we've got all kinds of other problems now and this isn't related to any of them. Better not to worry about it until we have to. "This new life isn't very good so far, though. I can't think of anything to enjoy about it, myself."

"Well, even in this body, you're not half bad." She smiles again, and sometimes her smiles have seemed like masks but this one seems completely genuine. My heart starts beating faster, and I realize hers is too--she's probably as nervous as I am, she's just better at hiding it.

"Yeah," I tell her. Our lips are about to touch when the Arab guy who's watching over us kicks me and puts his finger over his lips. There's a deadly slience hanging over the desert. I sigh inwardly. The moment is gone.

1. After a while, the Arabs pick us up and drag us into a car.
2. Then, a bunch of the army people we'd been captured by earlier attack.

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