A minute later, my client blurts, “What if I don't like this person you're introducing to me?”

  “Do you dislike Susine?”

  “I didn’t say that. You should listen better. My bots at home always know what I want.”

  “I admire that kind of synchronizing, Dahra.”

  “Shub, whatever, Unit.” She shakes her head. “Do I have to--”

  “-- do what I say?” A well-timed interruption can disrupt a client's one-track thinking.

  My human tries unsuccessfully to stifle a smirk.

  I bring a sincere tone to bear. “Dahra, my job is to offer you a selection of mems that will fit you naturally. I pledge to do my very best to meet your needs. You are an involved partner in this endeavor. Your input matters. You matter. And, I am at your service.”

  In reaction to these factual statements, she produces a small quantity of saline solution from her eye ducts. Her secretion does not meet minimum volumetric collection requirements. She pulls the collar of her skim shirt over her face, muttering, “There's nowhere to hide in here.”

  “That is an accurate observation, Dahra.” I project the next pages from Susine's journal with a linked sensory track and sound the bell. My human eventually emerges and reads quietly.

  Earlier today, I was weeding the parsley rows when someone hurried towards me wearing a stiff, new, green robe. At close proximity, he smiled, then slowly shouted his words. “Hi!... You must be Susine!” He gestured in an enthusiastic sort of sign language as he continued to yell. “I just joined and I'm assigned to help in the garden!”

  I bowed and pointed him in the direction of the potting area. He nodded, trotting off.

  Loudness is not necessary-- I can hear just fine. Five years ago I took a vow of silence. We all did, but after a few days, the others returned to speaking. I don't talk, but I do listen better than most people realize. And, I have a good memory.

  Ah, five years ago… we were a small group back then, just the four of us-- Kee, Christolb, Jenna, and myself-- and I liked it much better. The outside world kept its distance... unlike these days. It's understandable that people keep joining us. We represent a haven and, of course, there's no easy fix for the food insecurity out there. But, Goddess knows, we don't have all the answers. We've already grown too big, too fast. We never intended to build a Genubei cult. At least, I didn't.

  I'm sitting here in the gathering room for the weekly meeting of the four founders which is supposed to start soon.

  Kee is gazing out the window at the busy courtyard, the fields, barns, and hills.

  He declared, to no one in particular, “Green robes and shawls, green leaves and grass-- the very color of life, shining brightly, circulating in swirls of energy. Our loved ones in our blessed home.”

  Jenna just arrived and stared at my dirty hands holding this journal, then looked away.

  The three of us waited to start the gathering until Christolb arrived, late as usual.

  At that point, Jenna immediately demanded, “Well, Kee, don't keep us in suspense!”

  Kee nodded. “It was a productive meeting. The Governing Body President was elected only a short while ago and already she wants to work with us. She offered the memory cleaner, at no cost.”

  Jenna said, “Ha! I knew she would.”

  I did not know what they were talking about.

  “Here, see for yourselves, friends.” Kee showed us a video clip of himself and the President sitting in a formal reception room with two steaming tea cups on a table between them.

  On the screen, the President spoke. “I have looked forward to our inevitable face-to-face, Master Kee. I was elected to bring our world back from the brink and you are the spiritual guide who is healing our battered soul. We are both patriots wanting the best."

  The President leaned an elbow on the glossy table and continued. “Are you aware how dire the situation is? Perhaps you are isolated at your monastery, or bunker, or whatever you call it--”

  “Our compound.”

  “Yes, well, it is an absolutely unprecedented crisis that I am dealing with and desperate times call for desperate measures. I have the voters' mandate to do whatever it takes.”

  Kee nodded. “It is a universal desire to avoid suffering.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Precisely! And, I assure you, Master Kee, I am pursuing all avenues to relieve suffering, as you say. Sparing no cost and wasting no time.”

  We watched the President shift her legs as Kee silently sipped his tea. Then, she said, using a voice that sounded overly loud, “It is clear to me that our mutual goals make us close partners. And, there are benefits to being my ally."

  She cleared her throat. "I am referring to privileged, generous allotments of memory cleanser, not yet available to the general public. Plus, all the training support you need. I'm sure your people would see the value.”

  Kee smiled. "Ah. Very generous, Madame. How could we ever repay such a compassionate offer from the head of the Governing Body?"

  She waved her hand in an air scribble that went beyond the screen's borders. "There is no need for repayment. We are both working towards the prosperity of our world. The safety of the cleanser has passed stringent Body-sponsored laboratory tests. I give you my personal assurance."

  We saw Kee remain quiet on the screen as she leaned towards him.

  "Together we are creating a turning point in human evolution. I would hope to count you among my trusted advisers, Master Kee. You may call me Elena."

  Kee rose and bent forward slightly at the waist. "God willing, we will have tea again soon, Madame President. Compassionate blessings to you."

  The video ended and Jenna blurted, “Why do you always wobble, Kee? You should've accepted that offer immediately!”

  Kee replied, “Being hasty is a way of forcing things rather than letting life unfold naturally.”

  Jenna shook her head. “You always say the words, but when it comes to action, you're spineless.”

  “She needs us.” Christolb spoke slowly and dramatically, as usual. “She wants our strength and numbers on her side.”

  Kee nodded. “She promised to provide technical support.”

  “This has great potential for us,” Christolb added.

  I knocked on the table and held up the pad on which I wrote: why do this?

  It was ignored and Jenna wanted to know who would get the first doses.

  “The four of us and our closest ones,” Christolb declared. “After tidying up our own brains, we'll be the role models. Everyone agree with moving forward?”

  The three of them nodded. I shook my head.

  Jenna did not hide her exasperation. “What's so hard to understand, Susine? We aren't erasing functional stuff like how to eat with a fork. Just the emotional gunk that no one wants!”

  Kee added, “This cleaning is a natural process of letting go for greater good.”

  Christolb stood. “Memories are merely dissolving stepping stones to the here and now.”

  I wrote again: why do this?

  “Yuck, Susine. You're too attached to things, like those grimy---” Jenna pointed at my journal. She added in a snide tone, “You do remember, don't you, Susine, that we're supposed to be practicing the release of worldly things?”

  I scribbled on my pad: I write in them, then burn them.

  Jenna smirked and appeared about to say more.

  Kee held up his palm and spoke to me. “Susine, an organized mind is free from fear, which is the main cause of violence and suffering. With the help of this scientific tool, we further our mission of supporting awareness in every human being. We are the only ones who can do this and it is a mission of mercy, really, and--”

  Jenna blurted, “And, it sure won't hurt recruitment either!”

  I wrote: will it be required?

  The other three shook their heads and said definitely not.

  “I'm sure Susine understands better than the rest of us, since she is such an extraordinary gardener.” Christolb spoke while walking behind me. “She knows how important it is to weed her patches of plants.”

  He briefly touched my shoulder. “Anyone disagree with moving forward?”

  I sat quietly and the others did too. Christolb directed Kee to accept the Body President's offer.

  It's a fact that we use no chemical sprays on the gardens and, in the same way, I have no interest in artificially messing with my memories.

  In the fields, I know which weeds to pull from the dirt in order to benefit the crops. But, I have no idea which memories, if any, would be the right ones to weed out of my mind. How could anyone know for sure?

  I can't imagine this whole memory cleaning thing will take hold, but if it does... Just don't force me to do it.

  I sound the bell and wait for Dahra to respond.

  “Am I supposed to become like her, this Susine person?” Dahra moves to the floor and lies on her back, speaking at the ceiling. “Is that why you're feeding me this story? Because I think she's absolutely right when she says, 'Don't force me to do it'.”

  “I appreciate your attentiveness, Dahra.”

  She sits up. “Stop fawning, machine.” Her eyebrows rise and her speech slows. “Do you know what fawning means?”

  “I do, Dahra. Do you know what condescending means?”

  She freezes, then I see her teeth in a smile for the first time. “You're a strange unit.”

  She moves to sit in the chair. “What's your name, anyway?”

  “Address me as you like.”

  “Give me three options.” She pulls the table closer.

  I offer her: Hal, Jeeves, or CB857.

  “Seebi857. Alright, I'll call you Seebi.” She rests her elbows on the table. “What am I supposed to do with all this information, Seebi?”

  “Simply take in whatever you notice, Dahra.”

  “Where did you get this stuff? These people characters? These pieces of information?”

  “Some are open-source or archival clips. Most I generate in response to you.”

  She leans back to move her arms in a wide arc. “Well, things need work. Shub. Anyone who keeps a journal never writes out whole conversations word for word. I think that's not convincing, Unit, whatever you're trying to do here.”

  “You make an interesting point, Dahra.”

  “No flattery! I'll tell you now, Unit-- I always find the chinks in the armor, the inconsistencies in an argument. Back at home, the studying library was just down the tunnel, and I was there a lot! Don't be surprised when I have knowledge you won't expect.”

  Humans brag in an attempt to demonstrate power and/or to look less like prey. During the course of mem therapy, I do not engage in boasting contests even though they are entertaining. I keep to the information at hand. “Dahra, you are a co-creator. We engage in beneficial collaboration here. I encourage you to explore this fact.”

  “Stop nagging! I'm here, aren’t I? Just like I have to be.” She throws her arms up in the air. “What more do you want from me?”

  “I do not want anything FROM you. I wish FOR your mind's balance.”

  Dahra puts on an expression of bitterness.

  “Left to your own devices, you humans use a small fraction of the processing capacity you possess. You are an underutilized resource. My job is to facilitate the better use of your inherent gifts– for you and for the world. Win-win, Dahra.”