Recursion (toc, formatting) by Blake Crouch

Author:Blake Crouch [Crouch, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Thriller, Adult, Mystery, Fantasy
ISBN: 9781524759780
Google: D6uZDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07HDSHP7N
Barnesnoble: B07HDSHP7N
Goodreads: 42046112
Publisher: Crown/Archetype
Published: 2019-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

* * *

Barry stands at the wall of windows near Helena’s bed, looking across the ink-black river to the city. He hopes Julia is OK, but he doubts it. When he called her, she broke down crying on the phone, hung up, and refused to take his calls. He’s guessing there’s a part of her that blames him.

The Big Bend now dominates the skyline, and he wonders if he’ll ever grow used to it, or if it will always—for him and others—represent the unreliability of reality.

Helena comes up beside him.

“You OK?” she asks.

“I keep seeing Meghan dead on the sidewalk. I could almost see her face through the wet sheet they had draped over her. Going back and living those eleven years again—it ultimately fixed nothing for my family.”

“I’m so sorry, Barry.”

He looks at her.

Breathes in, breathes out.

“Have you ever handled a gun?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Recently?”

“Future You knew it would just be you and me charging into Slade’s building, so you started taking me to the range.”

“You sure you’re up for this?”

“I built the chair because my mom got Alzheimer’s. I wanted to help her and others like her. I thought if we could figure out how to capture memories, it would lead us to understanding how to stop them from erasing altogether. I didn’t mean for the chair to become what it became. It’s not only destroyed my life, now it’s destroying the lives of others. People have lost their loved ones. Have had entire lifetimes erased. Children erased.”

“You didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Yet here we are, and it was my ambition that put this device in the hands of Slade, and later, others.” She looks at Barry. “You’re here because of me. The world is losing its collective mind because of me. There’s a fucking building out there that wasn’t there yesterday because of me. So I don’t really care what happens to me tomorrow so long as we destroy every trace of the chair’s existence. I’m ready to die if that’s what it takes.”

He didn’t see it until this moment—the weight she carries. The self-hate and regret. What must it feel like to create a thing that could destroy the structure of memory and time? What must it cost her to repress the weight of all that guilt and horror and terror and anxiety?

Barry says, “No matter what, I got to see my daughter grow up because of you.”

“I don’t mean this to sound the way it will, but you shouldn’t have. If we can’t rely on memory, our species will unravel. And it’s already beginning.”

Helena stares at the city across the water, Barry thinking there’s something overwhelming about her vulnerability in this moment.

“We should probably get some sleep,” she says. “You can have my bed.”

“I’m not taking your bed from you.”

“I sleep on the couch most nights anyway, so I can fall asleep to the sound of the television.”

She turns to go.

“Helena.”

“What?”

“I know I don’t really know you, but I’m certain your life is more than that chair.

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