He remembered yesterday’s tennis match with the same intensity he recalled his marriage, or the birth of his son, or his wife’s death, or the death of his son. And that was troubling, because it meant he himself had been tuned.
What was worse, when he slipped away to the tennis court that night, he found he had no ability whatsoever. Which meant he had been receiving tune-ups for the entire six months he thought he’d taken to tennis.
It was an amateur mistake, inadvertently stimulating the amygdala while implanting a memory. It turned what should have been a banal half-remembrance into a flashbulb episode, of which he would recall every false detail in aching precision. He knew the process behind that error well. He had committed it himself, long ago, in his second year at the Corps….