Needles.

I'd seen enough needles for a lifetime. At least a second lifetime. With only a brief rest since coming to, all the poking and prodding was putting me in a rather dour mood. Everything was a fatigued blur of antiseptic lights and imposing machinery. A bevy of colorful ponies in lab coats and nurses' uniforms asked questions and took readings. My doting companion, the Head of Cloning, was the only constant.

I waited for my in-pony evaluation.

Double Helix hovered the syringe behind me. "Just relax. I'm going to give you a small dose of Laughter Plus. It'll speed along the synaptic reconnection, and also help with the fatigue. Please stay still, the injection has to be directly next to the spine."

I didn't want it, but I was slumped over in my chair and too weary to protest. Another prick. Solstice, it hurt! Then, suddenly, I felt great. Really great. Wonderful even. My ears popped as my eyes came into focus. The haze was gone from the edges of my vision. It was as if a layer of static had suddenly been removed from the broadcast of life. The next doctor trotted through the door in full high definition, and sat down on a shimmering metal chair at his brilliantly effulgent desk.

"Dr. Helix, interesting to see you personally tending to a patient," remarked the light green unicorn stallion, the timbre of his voice sounding in startling clarity, "In fact, odd to see you out of your lab at all."

"Well, Dr. Straight, I built a fair portion of the brain you're about to evaluate, so I'd like to check my handiwork, so to speak."

His voice sounded good. Was it always this good? I liked his eyes.

"It has nothing to do with Director Needleminder's interest in this case, hrm?" Dr. Straight replied.

"Of course not. I also heard she decided not to make you head of Psychology. Pity. Perhaps next year," Dr. Helix snidely retorted.

Dr. Straight's face scrunched up and his nostrils flared. I could make out every crease on his eyes and snout. They both seemed to be fairly young as doctors went; Dr. Straight perhaps a little older. Was I smiling?

"Anyway," he snorted, "She looks a little jittery. Did you give her a stimulant?"

"50 HCMs of Laughter Plus, to clear the grogginess. She was about to pass out."

A gleaming metal clipboard floated out of the desk and dropped neatly in front of Dr. Straight. He couldn't hide his irritation. "Right. Either way, this evaluation needs to be conducted in private. I'll scroll you when we're finished."

They were ignoring me again, but I didn't care. They were a couple of great ponies. The lights weren't hurting my eyes anymore. In fact, they were just great. If the lights were ponies, I'd give them a hoof bump for making such great light.

Dr. Helix curtly walked out.

"Now, how are you feeling presently?" he asked, turning to me. It was the first time anypony had asked me such a broad question. It was always "is there an itching sensation in this area?", or "is it painful when I do this?".

"I'm feeling... really great," I sighed.

"I see. Looks like your new tissue isn't used to the effects of Laughter. It's like a complete detox. I'll note that. Please try to answer my questions as completely and honestly as possible. First, what's your name?"

"Lozenge."

"Did you know your name when you woke up?"

"No, but I know what unicorns, pegasi, an earth ponies are."

"What's a gryphon?"

"Part lion, part bird. All... awesome."

"Where do they live?"

"Ahhh. Somewhere great, probably."

He marked something down.

"Okay. What were your parent's names? The ones who commissioned you?"

I gave him a confused look. He returned a stern one.

"Where do you live?"

"Broncoline Towers, unit 388," the words came unbidden.

The green-glowing pen danced across the page. "Seems your memory loss is pretty selective... odd."

"What do you mean, commissioned me?"

Years in this occupation must have trained him to stifle looks of agape incredulity. Still, this time he didn't do a very good job. Reflected in that look was the realization that the entirety of my universe began on that cold metal table. What memories I still had were like leaves on a nighttime stream. Vague, bobbing images being pulled along in dim moonlight. I knew I lived in Broncoline Towers in Baltimare, but had no accompanying meaning for what either of those places signify. I hadn't even looked in a mirror. My euphoria was beginning to wear off. The brilliantly shining world around me started to lose it's luster.

"They're just words," I sighed.

"What?"

"Everything I remember. It's all words without context. I know the words, but not their meaning."

There was a long pause before Dr. Straight spoke. His tone feigned consolation, "At least you remember how to speak. Most patients come out of such extensive surgery as drooling invalids. Your tests show you're completely cognizant. As soon as you can get on Generosity, you'll be able to re-learn whatever you need on the workings of the world. Personal relations, however, may be a bit more difficult. I can't predict what you will or won't remember."

"My parents are dead, though, right?"

"Do you remember that?"

"No. You asked what their names were."

"It may be easier that you've forgotten," he sighed, again trying to sound comforting. The effort was honest, but I could tell this wasn't a new situation for him. He must see this with discouraging frequency. That part of his heart had a very audible callous.

"I'm recommending a follow-up appointment in a week. One last thing, what do you know about Honesty?"

"E-excuse me?" I stuttered.

"What do you know about Honesty?"

Garbled green words.

...the Honesty...

I had enough cognizance left over to catch myself. "You mean the concept?" I managed. The situation was suddenly unsettling. I started sweating under my mane. I didn't want to be there.

"Yes... Well. I don't see any point in continuing this any further. I'll scroll Dr. Helix." A black box, like the one Double Helix had been badly carrying, floated up from the desk, emanating a few beeps and clicks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My legs worked surprisingly well, considering three hadn't been used in roughly a month and one was on its maiden voyage. I only tipped over twice and managed not to break anything. Small victories were victories still. Double Helix was stressing to me the proper etiquette of meeting the Director of Medicine for the Saint Scootaloo Restorative and Therapeutic Sciences Center. I paced back and forth, determined to at least have control of my own body, if not my mind. His words were background noise.

"...and you'll be released tomorrow afternoon. Are you paying attention?"

I stopped and stared down at my hooves. They were dark, syrupy pink. I wasn't too fond of the color. I'd have to get used to it.

"Look, I understand this is all a little much to deal with..."

"Let's just go see the director," I interrupted.

The facility must have been massive, judging by the distance we traveled to the Director's office. Snaking corridors filled with the bustle of activity, awash in artificial sheen. Everything seemed painstakingly well maintained, but a little off. When I looked hard enough, I could see chips in the paint, wear in the metal, or exposed wiring. It was like a well-kept rope still fraying at the edges.

The glass-encased lifts were hard to deal with. My legs buckled with every shift of momentum, starting or stopping. When the final lift shot upward toward the administration wing, I fell flat on my barrel. I offered a sheepish smile to the other passengers.

Double Helix seemed to be a mixture of giddy and nervous as we slunk through the series of faux wood covered pneumatic doors leading into the small lobby. We crossed the first carpeting in the building, passing decor done in muted burgundy hues. A yellow mare behind a glass desk waved us through, smiling, "Doctor Needleminder is expecting you."

I was wishing for another shot of Laughter Plus.

Her office wasn't so much a workspace as an amphitheater, carpeted the same as the waiting room; ending at a large, arc-shaped patch of cobalt blue tiles around a black glass and polished metal desk. Behind that was something I hadn't seen anywhere else in the facility so far. A window. A very large window. Beyond that, the afternoon sky. I must have been awake since last night.

A dark grey earth pony mare was standing off to the side of the desk, silhouetted against the natural sunlight; dressed in a stylized light brown coat with purple accents, and a black leather girdle. Her attention was on a large terminal monitor imbedded in the wall just to the side of the window. It scrolled through an endless stream of annotated photos. Squinting, I could finally discern her cutie mark; three syringes full of purple liquid. I briefly looked myself over, and realized something.

I didn't have a cutie mark.

"Please, have a seat," she called, not turning. Her voice was stern and matronly.

Suddenly displaying his best posture, Double Helix led me to my chair.

"Dr. Helix, how are operations in the cloning labs?"

"Excellent, Director. The new shipment from Amity is yielding some very intriguing results, the full reports of which will be sent to you at the end of the week. Also, project Devo..."

"That will be all, Doctor," her voice spiked, cutting him off.

His face fell. I almost wanted to comfort him as he trotted out.

"Good afternoon, Lozenge. It's not every day we host a researcher from the central Apothecary," she chimed, finally facing towards me. Her tone abruptly shifted to warm cordiality, but the situation still seemed... wrong. It felt like the beginning of trial. I noticed an ornate moon-shaped silver badge pinned on the front of her jacket.

"Good afternoon... uh... Dr. Needleminder, was it?" I tried to mask my fatigued and somewhat annoyed apprehensiveness.

"Yes. As you may have heard, I'm the Director of Medicine here. As such, I report directly to the Bishop on all matters relating to the condition and care of our patients. Bishop Golden Hoop is very interested in your progress."

That name was like ice water dripping down my spine. I shuddered. A mild panic began seeping in, filling the basement of my consciousness with the faintest underpinnings of adrenaline. Why did I even walk in here?

"I wish I could say I knew who that was."

"I understand you've had some fairly severe memory loss. An unfortunate side effect of wounds like those you were admitted with. You may have noticed the extremely limited range of questions brought up by my staff during your evaluations. They were given specific instructions not to inquire on the nature of the incident that precipitated your stay."

Nopony had asked what happened. I hadn't even asked. A vague dread surrounded the preponderance. It was a hot pan on the stove of my mind, and I didn't want to touch it. She stepped between me and the window. Now she was a shimmering outline against the mid-day sun, and I was enveloped in her shadow.

"Incident?" I croaked.

"The accident at Lab 184. Allow me to preface, everything you say will be kept in the strictest of confidence. The Church is curious as to what you remember. The report states you were an innocent bystander caught up in the occurrence. Don't worry, only I have a copy. So, what exactly do you remember?"

My legs and head were burning. The rest of me felt like ice. Was this because of the conversation, or something else?

"Fire."

"That's it? Just... fire?"

My voice was hollow, "Yes. Just that... there was fire."

She considered me carefully for a few long moments before he mouth opened, as if she was about to reply.

Then, the alarms went off.

Author's Note

*Barrel is the proper anatomical term for a horse's mid-section.