{"id":2717,"date":"2024-09-28T15:31:23","date_gmt":"2024-09-28T22:31:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2717"},"modified":"2024-09-28T15:31:23","modified_gmt":"2024-09-28T22:31:23","slug":"stranger","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2024\/09\/28\/stranger\/","title":{"rendered":"Stranger"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write a story inspired by the saying \u201cRevenge is a dish best served cold.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The stranger sat under a gelfim tree, shielded from the patchy rain and harsh sunlight, enjoying a mixed berry shave ice. Outside the gelfim\u2019s shade, rising heat from the baked ground evaporated the rainwater as fast as it hit, turning the park into a giant sauna.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Those brave souls that ventured into the chaotic summer weather didn\u2019t spare more than a glance at the stranger. It was obvious she didn\u2019t belong here, and they didn\u2019t want to catch her attention. For some it was fear, but most simply had no desire to be begged for a few credits by yet another war veteran from another world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The stranger watched those that ignored her. From a distance, they seemed almost normal. She found it amusing how many of them stopped at the small pushcart for a shave ice. Something that, like her, came from another world. Unlike her, though, it had been readily adopted and assimilated as local.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One of the locals crossed the park, headed straight for where the stranger sat under the gelfim. The local\u2019s antennae twitched nervously on the sides of her face, her ear slits open wide. She kept her head on a swivel as she approached, watching for what the stranger couldn\u2019t guess. With a four-digit hand, she held out a bottle of water for the stranger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s dangerous out here you know, and with this heat you need to stay hydrated.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d the stranger said. She took the bottle in her sun-darkened, olive-brown hand, enjoying the cold of it. \u201cYou\u2019re too kind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the least I could do,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m Brithelt. I work in the War Veterans\u2019 Assistance Bureau, in the main square off the other side of the park. If there\u2019s anything I can do to help, stop by.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThanks again, Brithelt. I\u2019d tell you my name, but I don\u2019t know what it was, and I hate the name Jane Doe.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Brithelt waggled her antennae in assent. \u201cI hope to see you again soon, Stranger.\u201d She left the area under the gelfim walking so fast as to almost be running, only slowing down once she had reached the area where the shave ice vendor sat under an umbrella.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The stranger picked up her arm where it lay next to her and reattached it to the stump below her left shoulder. After flexing the robotic hand a couple times, she picked up her leg and attached it to the stump above where her left knee used to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She stood and picked up her heavy pack, slinging it over her shoulder. She\u2019d have to find somewhere to sleep, and she hoped she could find something with air conditioning. Despite the technical nature of her arm, her prosthetic leg was basic, resulting in a rolling gait as she was forced to raise that hip to get the foot to clear the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 The main square was busy for how miserable the weather was, but her destination was beyond that. She walked toward the industrial area. Cheaper accommodations could be found in the dirtier, noisier parts of cities. That was the same everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The stranger finally found a small boarding house behind a factory. She decided the cool, dry air in the room made up for the noise of the non-stop machines a scant fifty meters away that made, in all likelihood, more machines. The boarding house also didn\u2019t require identification, accepted paper credits, and the room included an ensuite washroom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked at herself in the dingy mirror of the washroom. Her close-cropped, light brown hair was sun-bleached to a straw blonde, her dark brown eyes looked black in the dim light of the room, and the scar that crossed from the bridge of her narrow nose across her left cheek, ending at her jaw stood out in sun-burned pink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She took off her shirt, washed it in the sink, wrung it out, and hung it on the mirror to dry. She followed up by removing her leg and washing the sweat-soaked, padded sock and liner she wore under her prosthetic leg. After that, she did the same for the sock and liner for her arm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The stranger filled the shallow tub with tepid water and climbed in. She scrubbed with soap and a rag, turning the water brown, then drained and refilled the tub to rinse as much of the residue off as she could.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She patted herself dry with a towel, grabbed her arm and leg, and hopped out to the room. She put the prosthetics where they got plenty of direct air from the vents, then lay on the hard bed to cool herself and drifted off to sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The morning dawned heavily overcast with scattered showers, though the temperature remained high all through the night. The stranger walked out of the boarding house into a wall of damp heat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She returned to the main square of the city and began searching for an address she had in her obsolete comm device. Spotting the address, she put the comm away and crossed the square to an office building. The doors opened with a blast of cool air and she walked in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDr. Agellia?\u201d she asked the receptionist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTake the lift to seven, his office is second to the right.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The stranger nodded and took the elevator to the designated floor. She stopped just outside the elevator and set her pack on the floor. From her pack, she carefully unwrapped a small device. It was a box connected by wires to a metal halo. She pulled out two cylinders and screwed them into the halo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Device in hand, she walked into the doctor\u2019s office, under the sign that said, \u201cMemory Treatments.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She didn\u2019t recognize him from anywhere other than the pictures she\u2019d managed to find, but she saw his shocked recognition. His antennae twitched for a moment until he managed to get himself under control.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI see you remember me,\u201d she said. \u201cMust be nice, I don\u2019t remember you at all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere did you get that?\u201d he asked, looking at the device she carried.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot your concern.\u201d The stranger set the device on his desk. \u201cThis is the same thing you used on me, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She leaned on the desk. \u201cDon\u2019t bother with an answer, I can see I\u2019m right.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t want to do it,\u201d he said, \u201cbecause I knew it was a risk. You\u2019d just been blown up in a covert op, for all the gods\u2019 sake, but they made me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey made<\/em> you?\u201d The stranger pulled out her comm device and played an audio recording. In it, Dr. Agellia could be heard saying, \u201cWe don\u2019t know. We haven\u2019t tried it on a human. Let\u2019s test it on the Jane Doe. This could be valuable data. It\u2019s not like she\u2019s going to live much longer anyway. I\u2019ll start small and erase just the mission.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Agellia\u2019s antennae flattened against his face, his ear slits opened wide. \u201cBut you\u2019re here, so some<\/em> memory must\u2019ve come back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, doctor, it didn\u2019t.\u201d She pointed at the halo. \u201cPut it on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNow\u2014now, this is not\u2014this is a bad idea\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI said PUT IT ON<\/em>!\u201d She slammed her robotic hand on the desk, causing him to jump.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He sat frozen. The stranger picked up the halo and put it on his head. She flipped a switch on the device it was attached to and turned the dial all the way up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan you fix my brain?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWha\u2014what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy brain,\u201d she said, pointing at her head. \u201cCan you fix it? Can you get my memories back? I don\u2019t even know my own goddamned name!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan\u2019t or won\u2019t?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not something I can do,\u201d he said, his entire body trembling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s your choice. You either fix my brain, or I turn this on and those needles go into your<\/em> brain, and I see how much of you I can erase.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan it be done?!\u201d She slammed her hand on the desk again for emphasis, making him jump once more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTheoretically, but I don\u2019t know\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood enough,\u201d she said. She typed something into the device and turned the dial down. \u201cI won\u2019t erase your education. Just the last \u2014 say \u2014 six years. Everything that happened since just before you mangled my brain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, please! You\u2019re being rash. Think this through!\u201d he pleaded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been<\/em> thinking this through for six years. Ever since I woke from a coma up in a military hospital ship, missing an arm and a leg, and filled with enough shrapnel to give a scrapyard operator a hard-on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She sighed. \u201cBetween surgeries, I had to learn all over how to talk, read, write, walk \u2014 with only one leg, mind you \u2014 and even tie my shoes one-handed. You. Took. My. Life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe only clues I had were that my DNA and prints were tied to a completely redacted military identity, and this recording on a burner comm. If anything, I\u2019ve been patient.\u201d She flipped the switch that sent the needles deep into his brain and started up the machine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll see you when you wake up, stranger.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write a story inspired by the saying \u201cRevenge is a dish best served cold.\u201d available at Reedsy The stranger sat under a gelfim tree, shielded from the patchy rain and harsh sunlight, enjoying a …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2717","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/sxT7i-stranger","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2717","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2717"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2717\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2718,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2717\/revisions\/2718"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2717"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2717"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2717"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}