CHAPTER 8

Edison stared in shock at Bryce.

How could he have forgotten about Max? Max was Bryce's own creation. It was as if he'd forgotten his own son. Was this a side-effect of the cancer? Edison guessed it must be. He'd hardly had time to study the ailment.

"Bryce?" Max asked. He looked at Edison. "Doesn't he remember me, Edison?"

"No, Max," Edison said.

"But-but-but, why not?" Max wailed.

"It's the cancer, Max," Edison explained. "It's affecting his memory."

"Can we do anything to change it-it-it?" Max pleaded. "Isn't there a cure? A treatment?"

"He was in treatment for a while," Edison said, looking at Bryce who sat there, staring at nothing.

"Treatment for what?" Bryce asked. "Who are you? Why can't I see anything? Has there been a blackout?"

"No, Bryce," Edison said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm not going to lie to you or sugar-coat things. You deserve better than that."

"What's wrong with me?" Bryce asked.

"You were blinded by cancer. It's one of the symptoms. You were in chemo for a while, but it didn't do any good, so you decided to stop the treatments."

"Does that mean I'm going to die?" Bryce asked, alarmed.

"Yes, Bryce, Edison told him. "Probably very soon."

"Is that what I wanted before I started forgetting things?" Bryce asked.

Edison wanted to say "No". He wanted to tell Bryce that he wanted to fight with all he had to save himself. But he knew if he did that, he would be as selfish as Theora had accused him of being.

"Yes," he said. "You tried to hold on for as long as you could, but in the end it was proving too much for your fragile body."

"You still haven't told me who you are?"

"Edison Carter," Edison said, "your best friend and former coworker."

"I had a job?" Bryce asked. "I seem to be rather young."

"You had one hell of a brain before the cancer started eating away at it," Edison said. "You were head of research and development at Network 23."

Bryce felt around for something to hold onto, finally grasping the edge of the blanket.

"I wish I were still smart," he said.

"You are," Edison told him.

"No," Bryce growled. "I'm stupid. I hate being stupid."

"You're not stupid," Edison argued. "Stupid people have working brains and are too dumb to take advantage of them."

"I can't remember anything," Bryce said. "That sounds like stupidity to me.

"No," Edison told him. "It's called cancer-related amnesia."

There was a knock on the door. Edison checked and saw it was Theora.

He let her in and she sat on the loveseat near the TV.

"How are you, Bryce?" she asked.

"Fine," Bryce replied. "Who are you?"

"Amnesia?" Theora asked.

"Yes," Edison said, overriding Bryce's claim that he was just stupid.

"You are not," Theora told him. "Lots of really smart people lose their memories when they get brain cancer. It's like having a recording in a lock box but you lost the key."

Bryce grabbed his head and sat down heavily. He began to rock back and forth, emitting little droning noises until he curled up into a ball and began half screaming.

Theora and Edison sat on either side of him. Theora rubbed his shoulders, but did not try to restrain him. She just wanted him to know she was there.

Bryce began clawing at his head, as if he were trying to rip out the cancer with his bare hands.

"Get it out!" he screamed. "Oh, God! Get it out of me! GET IT OUT OF ME!"

"Bryce!" Edison shouted, trying to get through to the teenager. "Bryce, I know it hurts." He turned to Theora. "Call the med center. Tell them to get their asses over here now. I'm not going to watch Bryce suffer like this any longer."

Theora made the call, then turned to see Edison cradling Bryce against himself, holding his wrists.

"Edison…" she began.

"I know," Edison told her. "But I had no choice. He was trying to rip his eyes out."

"To get to the cancer," Theora realized. "My god. Is the pain really that bad?"

"I think it's worse," Edison said, as Bryce began screaming again.