On the surface Abstergo Industries is no different than any conglomerate. They are a multinational corporation operating various companies, plus routinely exploring new ventures. Some entail buyouts or mergers, while others are spawned internally through research and development. The latter result from confidential decisions privy to top personnel.

All common, yet Abstergo is unique in one regard. While their research transpires in conventional labs, the desired goal differs. Their focus is not tied to future design but the quest for past knowledge. To achieve this requires a device conceived for that purpose. It allows the user to retrieve genetic memories, vicariously living the past. Not only does one study forebears but the time and place of their existence. This by itself is remarkable. Then add skill transference coined the Bleeding Effect, an ominous term with equally ominous consequence like amnesia and psychosis. Promise and peril conjoined in the animus, deemed the next phase in virtual reality with a historical twist.

That last point is relevant. Abstergo considers themselves modern Knights Templar, part crusader and part assassin. Which part is favored is further debate. To promote their cause the animus is used on Order descendents in search of artifacts, yet its potential is vast. Some propose all historical mysteries are solvable merely by engaging the right people. Why limit the interest solely to assassins. Descendants of victims seek to unravel ancestral intrigue.

A valid view, one a certain progeny ponders endlessly. However the obstacles are many. Abstergo maintains its own agenda and disdains investigation in variance. Still the questions burn and demand results. For one committed woman, the call for closure commands.

It's Monday morning in the office of Research Director Lee Varick. He is interviewing pending test subject Sharon Hawn.

"Welcome to Abstergo, Ms. Hawn."

"Thank you. I've looked forward to this day since my approval."

"I apologize for the delay, but thorough background checks are policy and critical to success."

"Thorough indeed. Back tracking hundreds of years applies."

"Time restrictions oblige it. We receive hundreds of inquiries daily, and the cost of producing more animi is prohibitive."

"I feel honored."

"Understood, but mostly feel welcome. The proper outlook enhances the experience."

"I've heard the animus described as sentient."

"Bestowing that attribute to a machine is dubious, though anything that interacts with the human brain in a reciprocal and adaptive manner could qualify."

"Both wondrous and weird at the same time."

"For a history buff like me it's wondrous. I'll leave the weird debate to others."

"Controversy does surround it. Do you read the press?"

"I have neither the time nor inclination. Public relations and marketing handle that."

"Does anyone know what you do?"

"You've read the confidentiality agreements. We're all bound by them."

"It must be frustrating not being able to tell people, especially for one who takes pride in their work."

"I'm single. My work is my life, so for me it's unimportant."

"Yet we're social creatures. Sharing is part of our makeup."

"If you have someone to share with."

"I imagine Abstergo prefers single people, at least in this area."

"While other departments take honesty tests before employment, we undergo a detailed psych profiling as you know."

"Tell me. I had to come back on three different occasions to complete it."

"I'm looking at the results now. There are two points of interest that need clarifying. It says you had a family member disappear and foul play was conceivable. Is it true he was involved in organized crime?"

"Yes."

"Was this commonly known?"

"By inference. His work sparked allegations."

"Do you know his exact role?"

"He had a public role built on a private foundation. What information I have is hearsay. I'm sure you understand my reservations about its truth."

"But we work with suppositions."

"Which requires a controlled environment. Real life is hardly that, if my grandfather's life even qualifies as real."

"Brutally real. Since he may have met an unnatural death, do you believe he was involved in the deaths of others?"

"Do I think he was a killer?"

"Yes."

"It's possible, indirectly. I don't think he committed the acts himself, but he could have sanctioned them."

"It also says he controlled substantial amounts of money."

"Quite substantial. Millions."

"Has this money ever been accounted for?"

"That too is a mystery. Much of it was placed in off shore accounts and slush funds. It could still be there."

"Abstergo has an ancilliary interest in money. If we help recoup assets a modest recovery fee is assessed."

"My interest lies in the whys and wherefores, not amounts."

"I was only offering benefits."

"I understand."

"That covers my concerns. I can set up your melding tomorrow. A thirty minute meditation session is required beforehand to unclutter the mind and induce reception to interface."

"Interface. Makes me sound like a machine."

"It's only a word. Think of the glorious experience awaiting you."

"I like your manner. Inspirational."

"Strange. I've always considered myself detached. My work demands it."

"Still you need balance, even if your work is your life."

"Would you like me to attend the test?"

"Yes."

"Then we're on. I'll see you tomorrow at nine."

For Sharon morning can't come soon enough. The disappearance of her grandfather has been an obsession since childhood when she first read it in articles and magazines. Her memories have faded over time but still elicit feelings. Their time together was brief yet characterized by love, emotions belying his demeanor. While her entire family was touched by his loss, it was hardest on her. He made her feel special, nurturing her inner self. She always displayed sensitivity and insight, two traits that inspired her quest and enabled her acceptance into the animus program. One trait foreign was useful too. Pretense was deployed. Regrettable yet necessary, for without it she may have been summarily declined, if not legally detained, if Abstergo knew her true reason for applying. Revenge!

Tuesday morning arrives with dark clouds projecting inclement weather. Whether viewed a heavenly cleansing or ominous portent hinges on one's perspective as Sharon enters the basement for her nine o'clock session.

"Good morning."

"Sharon, I presume."

"And your name is….."

"My birth certificate reads Katrina, but you can call me Kat."

"Okay, Kat. I'm here for a nine o'clock session, but I'm early. I couldn't sleep."

"Understandable. All first timers are nervous."

"I prefer to think excited. Should I be nervous?"

"That depends on what's awaiting you on the other side."

"Answers hopefully."

"Yet some questions are best left unanswered."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Speaking from witnessing those who sought and later wish they hadn't."

"That's…discouraging. Where's Dr. Varick?"

"He was called away. They asked me to fill in."

"Is that normal?"

"If you're looking for normal you're in the wrong place."

"It's just that he said he'd be here."

"You sound disappointed. Won't I do?"

"It's not that….There's certainly a lot of security down here. I didn't notice any yesterday on the fourth floor."

"That's because no one cares about the fourth floor. There's only people there. The valuable stuff is here."

"Apparently."

"You have no idea how many companies would love to get their hands on an animus or the blueprints to build one."

"It's rather complex and costly, isn't it?"

"Above my pay grade on both counts."

"I understand a Mr. Vidic designed it."

"So I'm told."

"I also understand he met an untimely death."

"That too."

"On December 21, 2012."

"Creepy, huh?"

"His cause of death was never disclosed."

"And it's best not to ask questions about it. Around here that's a good policy in general."

"Have you ever used the animus?"

"I have enough memories of my own, and one personality is plenty, thank you very much."

"Are the side effects as bad as they say?"

"That depends on how stable you are to begin with. Just be glad you're not named Eve."

"Inside joke?"

"It's unoriginal but point taken."

"If you're trying to scare me you're doing a hell of a job."

"I'm only teasing, though you should know what you're getting into."

"What percentage of people suffer side effects?"

"I couldn't say, that's after care. Speaking of which, you'll be provided with a questionnaire upon retrieval. They want you to record everything about your experience while your memory is still fresh, and intact."

"You could have left that last part out."

"I know. I couldn't resist one last jab before your meditation, which starts in one minute by the way. Ready for the bliss abyss?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Thirty minutes later the session ends and Sharon is escorted to the animus. A sedative is administered for further relaxation, followed by electrodes attached to her head. Seconds later buttons are pushed, dials twisted, preparing everything for unity. She promptly slides into a dreamlike state and drifts aimlessly. Tingling sensations decree contact is imminent, a macabre blind date uncommon in the annals of relationships.

Then it happens. The moment of entry is like plunging into an abyss. The jolt is both frightening and enlightening. It's eerie invading someone's mind, a body snatching akin to internal voyeurism. Forget about neurons and synapses. Sensory feedback rules. Once in contact she may become fluent in another language or acquire the skills of a trained athlete, a correlation to their mental and muscle memory.

Thoughts flood in, some intense and others trivial. It's the former that matter. She needs to wade through the crap to get to the core. A pattern is forming, constant, fixated. Thoughts about a union, about staying in power. About the opposition, especially the opposition. It takes a few moments to collect her thoughts, hard since they now coincide with another.

This is where the lines blur, two becomes one, dichotomy becomes synchronicity. Synchronicity suggests harmony, a dubious inference far from accurate. How does one maintain self when you're part of another. She's not sure what she's experiencing. Are her perceptions her own or that of her grandfather. No drug could produce such psychotic effects. How is this synergy of souls supposed to provide clarity?

Sharon's unease is palpable, a fear of answers not found. She senses anxiety in her grandfather too, a tension not borne from routine duties. It runs deeper, extending clear to the bone, as if a decision's been made, one with little recourse. Or perhaps the opposite, when the realization hits that all options have elapsed, and with them whatever hope remained.

Suddenly the scene shifts as they enter a house, empty except for certain people, the wrong people. Senses reel from the shock of deceit, but it's too late. Violence erupts. Images of her grandfather shot stream by as if broadcast from a kaleidoscope. She just witnessed his murder, a surreal Zapruder film screened within a man's mind. A haunting emptiness pervades, and just as suddenly it ends, the interface over in connection with a man's life. Unbearable experience certainly yet one bearing results, for she now knows his killer's identity.

Her return is immediate with after effects similar to a deep sleep. She's taken offline and directed to a conference room.

"How'd everything go?"

"Give me a few seconds to shake the cobwebs."

"There is disorientation after. It's normal. Have some coffee. The caffeine will clear your head."

"It's not what I expected. "

"In what way?"

"I suppose I never thought it through. I was thinking I'd be more a casual observer, not an actual participant."

"That's how a mind meld works, two people sharing everything."

"He seemed aware something was different. Is the person aware?"

"We can only guess. Judging by comments of others they felt the same way, but said no proof was evident. It was simply a feeling."

"It was sad and scary at the same time."

"Were you concerned about your safety?"

"I didn't sense danger, but an adrenaline boost created a sense of urgency."

"That's good for our purpose. It enhances the cognitive imprint on your brain."

"I'm becoming alert. The images are vivid."

"So you did connect with your grandfather."

"His mind was focused on important matters that day. There were only occassional moments of other thoughts."

"But that's what you were looking for, the important things."

"Yet I was also curious about his feelings toward family."

"And feelings toward you too?"

"Yes, but nothing surfaced. Is it possible more insight will develop over time?"

"Unlikely. That requires more sessions. There's only so much memory accessible each time."

"Well the most important thing I learned today, and for that I'm grateful."

"You wanted to uncover the mystery of his disappearance. Did you succeed?"

"It was as terrible as I feared. I saw everything. He was murdered like everyone thought. However I didn't learn how they disposed of his body. The link ended upon his death."

"Of course. I'm sure it was a harrowing experience for you."

"I can't imagine what he went through. Facing death is bad enough, but when you're betrayed by someone close….."

"What happened?"

"He was killed by a friend, a man he knew for years."

"How unfortunate."

"I experienced his shock, and anger, and I share that anger. I thought I was prepared for what I'd find, but it's too personal. I can't just dismiss this."

"What are you saying?"

"I feel rage. I feel scorn. I could just…"

"You could just what, Ms. Hoffa?"

"What did you call me?"

"Ms. Hoffa. Ms. Sharon Hoffa."

"My name is Sharon Hawn."

"It may be now, but you were born Sharon Hoffa, granddaughter of Jimmy Hoffa."

"So you know my real name. The time for pretense is over."

"Yes."

"How long have you known?"

"Since this morning when we received the results of your DNA sample. There were other reasons for taking it besides the requirements of the animus."

"I thought if I was upfront you wouldn't have approved me."

"Probably not. Besides the cost factor we don't like being used for anyone's vendetta."

"I'm sorry. I needed to find answers. I'll reimburse the company for its expenses."

"It's not that. It's what you found out."

"Is Abstergo concerned about my grandfather's murder?"

"We're not concerned ourselves, but associates of ours are. This company required vast amounts of money to start. Creating the animus was costly. Many prototypes were designed before one finally worked. Traditional funding sources like banks disdain speculative ventures, especially when millions of dollars are involved. Other options had to be explored."

"You're talking organized crime, but how does this relate to me?"

"Where the money came from, a certain pension fund."

"I don't believe it! Money from the fund my grandfather managed, money that got him killed, was used to start this company?!"

"Ironic, huh."

"Where does that leave us?"

"The information you possess can never be revealed. Never."

"What are you going to do, kill me too?"

"Heavens no. We're not killers. However his disappearance has been unsolved for years and must remain so."

"What if I promise to remain silent?"

"Unfortunately that's not good enough, but there is a solution."

"What?"

"Memory removal. It's all legal. If you remember your non-disclosure agreement, we can do exactly that to prevent any harm to the company."

"So you're going to put me back on the animus and remove the memories."

"That's where we hit a snag. The animus is a lone conduit device. It's only able to retrieve memories. It's not able to remove them."

"Then what else is left?"

"Lobotomy."