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Over the door, one light is green and the other is red. Lucretia looks down at the wheel. Mind.
“Oh this will be delightful . You have so many more memories than the average human.” She can practically hear them rubbing their spectral hands together. Cam gives her a quizzical look, which she ignores.
“What do you think? These memories are so delicious , I don't know what to choose.”
She grits her teeth and focuses on breathing.
“Let's make it interesting , shall we? Give her the choice.”
Awful gleeful laughter fills the darkness.
“Yes, that's perfect. Lucretia. There's someone you would claim to love, but who you also hurt. You can forget the last thing he said to you, or the first time he kissed you.”
The soft light of Fisher's tank; his face full of shock and dismay; the confusion in his voice. It might be a blessing to forget how she'd hurt him. And yet. To forget why, that would ruin her.
“The kiss,” she says, her voice low, resolute. There were other kisses, decades of them, and if he's kissing someone else now, she has enough memories for a lifetime. Better to keep her last choice clear.
“You give up the pleasant memory, then?” Another peal of laughter. “Seems like you like sacrifice, dear.”
For a brief moment, the memory is perfectly clear: sitting on the deck of the Starblaster, looking out into the woods at night. Magnus beside her, and she's thinking about having never been kissed, and how maybe she never will be. Then suddenly, delightfully, his lips on hers, warm and a little rough, and the scent of him, up close? Oh, that moment of surprise!
But it's gone. Tears at the corners of her eyes, and she gasps in shock. A bit of black fog rises from her mouth despite herself.
“And now it's time for the next challenge!”
She closes her eyes, squares her shoulders. When she opens them again, she focuses on Cam’s missing arm.
“Ready whenever you are,” she says.