Paul Fredericks had just dropped a bombshell on me.
“Last January, right before we wiped the memories of the other Points Club members, eight of you agreed to move to the new Psylon headquarters, and undergo a new, experimental process, that would turn you into Psylons.”
I racked my brain for any memory and came up short. “Why don’t I remember?”
Paul sighed. “There were some complications. You and a couple of the others started having seizures and psychotic episodes. We think it was because of an allergic reaction to one of the drugs, none of the others had any problems at all. You had to be restrained and sedated for quite a while. You were in a lot of pain, which we found out later, was caused by being in close proximity to the other Psylons, both old and new. So I sent you here to recover.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook. He hadn’t answered my question. “So, why don’t I remember?”
“Even after we got you back here, you couldn’t adjust. You had nightmares whenever you tried to sleep. You were a mess. So we decided to block the memories . . . let you ease back into normal life before we broke the news. Your memories will return over time, hopefully at a pace you can handle them.”
“Great, I was crazy. Am I still crazy?”
Paul smiled, and let me rant for a bit, then said, “Relax, Marc, you’ll be fine. All of the others are recovering nicely as well, but your Psylon powers are starting to manifest, and so is the hunger. That’s why we had to send Angel to you a couple of times over the past two weeks.”
“Her name is Angel?” Because yeah, no way I’d forget her.
“We’re working on things,” Paul continued. “Give us some time and just know your brain is still adjusting. New powers may come upon you suddenly, to be on guard.”
Something came to me then, as if I’d known how to do it all along. I just thought real hard toward Dr. Paul, without saying anything.
Like talking to you in your head?
Paul smiled and nodded. “Yeah, like that.”