All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, General Fiction, Science Fiction

Forgotten Memories by Hugh Cron


The two men nodded and shook hands.

“Please sit. What do I call you?”


“I’m Terry.”

“Pleased to finally meet you.”

Terry wondered about the grin, “…Has everything been done to your satisfaction?”

Dymphna looked around the empty office and nodded.

“If you screw me, you only get half the story.”

“But it is you that has most to lose.”

“Removal! I know. But I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes. The list is what will keep you alive.”

Terry smiled.


Dymphna lifted the bottle and a glass that sat beside him.

“Do you mind?”

“No, not at all. Only the best. As requested!”

He poured out a large measure and swallowed half.

“OK, you know I need to record this.”

“Of course.”

“Well whenever you are ready.”

“Where do you want me to begin?”

“Give me some background. And what the name means.”

“No background on where I am from. They may be able to work something out, but I will tell you about the name.”

“Fair enough.”

“…Look it up! You will then understand. But what I will tell you is it’s a woman’s name and I’ll come back to that.”

He took another sip.

“I hate this world. I hate what it has become. We all know the history of what happened and how the saviour that is the WG rose to power. WG – World Government! Fuck if you know any history the governments used to be afraid of an organisation that was called The New World Order, but as far as I am concerned they made their own.”

“Do you mind if I ask questions as we go along?”

“No. Not at all.”

“But surely you can see that this is better than at any time in history? We are in times of happiness. No worries, no negative social issues, just happiness.”

“It isn’t better, it is controlled. I am being slated for what I do and the WG has done this to every single person on this planet. For the greater good, you must take this during pregnancy. To take away all unborn individuality. That is what it comes to.”

“We all know that it is a harmless system to remove any badness.”

“It is control!”

“But we are happy and there hadn’t been any killing, until, I’m sorry to say this, you came along.”

Dymphna poured out another drink.

“That is the price that we have to pay for our intellectual freedom. Freedom can cause rebellion. Unfortunately, what I am giving is not about fighting for your land or rights, so you are in turmoil with yourself. That is what it is all about and that is what my customers want.”

Terry held up his hands, “You are getting a bit ahead of yourself.”

He nodded, “Sorry.”

“How come you are the way that you are, I mean rebellious, able to do this without accepting simple happiness?”

Dymphna shrugged.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m a freak. Or I’m here for a reason. But I knew I was different early on.”


“I was doing what I was supposed to. Like everyone else I was doing well at school and never had a rebellious thought in my life until the morning of my fifteenth birthday. I woke up, got out of bed and knew what I was going to do. It was a revelation. I knew how, when, where, everything. It all made sense and was simple. Everything was there in my head, even how to conceal all that had to be done. I think I was given a taste of what I was going to supply. I felt excited, scared, anxious, mixed up, relieved. All these emotions we have read about and their extremes, but didn’t truly understand. I now understood what they were all about.”

“How can that just happen?”

“I honestly don’t know. I am not holding back and that is as much an explanation as I can give.”

“I am not sure that I believe you but go on.”

“It took me four years to get my product. Sorry but no details on that. Another four years to set up my life which was my cover. And about two years to find my market.”

Terry leaned forward, “That interests me. How did you do that?”

Dymphna laughed, “If you really want to know then I will tell you. But think about this. If you print how…Then the WG could find the who and that would take away the protection of the list.”

Terry frowned.

Dymphna continued, “If you don’t know then you can’t answer if they ask and you will still have the list as insurance.”

A few seconds passed.

“OK, leave that out. Go on.”

“After that it was a simple suggestion to people who knew me, who knew people who knew people. They then sought me out. That is the beauty. Those coming to me makes them just as guilty.”

“What about sting operations? Have there been any that you have known about?”

“If there were, then I wouldn’t be talking to you today. Let’s just say I have my own system for checking people out before they meet me.”

“But every system can be hacked and used to whoever’s advantage.”

“Not mine! So, they come to me. We arrange a meeting. And I supply. I give them something this world can’t. I sell a product that implants anxieties, stress. Hell, I even do a rather expensive line in P.D, Schizophrenia, addiction and repressed memories due to molestation or any other traumatic event that they wish. To tell the truth, those are the most expensive and my best sellers. My first creation was a trans-gender confusion experience, hence my woman’s name.”

Terry sighed, “I don’t understand. Why do people want that when we have this Utopia?”

“I can’t answer for them.”

“But what are your thoughts?”

He finished his drink and poured out another.

“I think they have a need to feel like people. Warts and all! I reckon it may be the emotion that they want to experience. The stronger the emotion, good or bad is somewhat alluring. Pleasure, pain and the thin line between seems apparent in whatever we do. I take it this curiosity is no different. But as I said, you would need to ask them.”

“What about those of your customers who have acted up and been caught breaking the law? How come they don’t speak about you? The authorities must, emm, pressure?”

“That took a full year to perfect. When they take the product there is an addition, for want of a better word. It is a memory blocker. This is my insurance. They forget all about me until the next time they want a hit. I always make sure they take while I am there. As soon as they have, they forget about me and have eight hours before their symptoms begin. The genius is they remember about the eight hours and what they have done, but to them, I am gone. Until the next time. There is always a next time!”

“There is no point in asking how this is done?”


“What are you going to do now?”

“With the huge amount of money that your publication is paying me, and what I have made, I am disappearing. This is my retirement.”

Terry rubbed his temples.

“I am going to have the WG all over me but this is it. I have broken the story of why we have the civil unrest. It will be worth it.”

“As long as you are sure. You are creating a shit storm. But I will send the list to you in a couple of days. Hopefully the WG will be too worried about those names to give you any grief – But whatever you do, don’t tell them that you have it or you will be removed. They will more than likely set themselves up as the heroic order finding out what was going wrong. If you play along, you will be fine…

OK, all I need now is confirmation of the money transfer and then I am gone.”

“Of course. I have brought an A.B.B so that you can see that it is there. I just need to type in the code and it should be done.”

“Will you have a last drink with me?”

Terry smiled, “Why not. This is a once in a lifetime story! We are both going to be very rich men.”

He put the A.B.B back in its case and wondered who had closed the door.


Hugh Cron


12 thoughts on “Forgotten Memories by Hugh Cron”

  1. Wonderful story which raises a suspicious feeling of déjà vu. But a story wouldn’t be complete for you without several social commentaries which of course this one also has. Nice one!
    ATVB my friend


    1. Hi Tobias, it is easy to write with what is wrong. ‘Everything’ is quite a wide scope of topic!!!
      Thanks as always for your help and comments.


    1. Hi Vic, the thought of suffering to be human takes us off on a few tangents!
      I am always happy to see your name pop up in the comments.
      All the very best my friend.


    1. Thanks June, it is a wee bit different from my comfort zone but that makes it all the more fun to do!
      Glad you enjoyed and thanks as always for your kindness!


    1. Hi Dave,
      Thank you so much for looking back to this one.
      I actually didn’t release that this was before your time. You have commented on so much that I feel as if you have always been with us!!
      All the very best my fine friend!


  2. Indeed, sometimes people choose suffering. Geniuses and idealists, for example. They believe in their illusions and take them to the limit. Sometimes they make them true. Without them we’d all have far less suffering but little progress. In this story, it’s kind of selling illusions, marketing the rush of feeling like a person. With a memory blocker as insurance, so you don’t get PTSD. The concept of enforced happiness is funny, in a dark way.


    1. Hi Harrison,
      In a way, I reckon we need everything warts and all – That is what makes us human. If things become too clinical then I believe that we would still seek out…Whatever. Rebelling and being self-destructive is also what makes us human. I hope it will never be an exact science!!
      I enjoy reading your thoughtful and knowledgeable take on all the stories!
      Thanks as always my fine friend.


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