Opheliac by J. F. Jenkins

going to respond, Cadence rushed into the room.
    â€œSorry,” she managed in between deep huffs. “The bus ran late, and then I got off on the wrong stop. I ran all the way here from the next one up.”
    â€œYou didn’t need to wind yourself to get here,” Alan said softly. “We’re more than fine waiting.”
    She shook her head and took the final spot on the couch, sitting next to Angela. Still not close to JD, but at least they were on the same piece of furniture again. He’d take it.
    â€œWant some water?” JD offered. She nodded, and he glowed on the inside. Finally, something he could do for her! He jumped up from his seat and rushed into the small kitchen right outside the door. “Keep talking! I’m listening!”
    â€œSprout and her brother Bean have started undergoing rehabilitation treatment with the Ilotus,” Alan said. “They aren’t the first teenagers to undergo rehabilitation, in general, but with the Ilotus, I guess you could say they are our guinea pigs.”
    â€œOh boy,” Angela said.
    â€œI’m not particularly pleased with this, but I was once told by a friend that sometimes in order to do the right thing, one must strike their enemy with the same strength their enemy would attack with.” Alan paused. “Meaning, they would not hesitate to do the same things to you or I, so there is no need to feel guilty.”
    JD turned on the faucet, absorbing what Alan had just said. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with the logic, though it did make sense. But did that mean Alan didn’t have any lines? The tribe Bean and Sprout worked for clearly did not have any respect for human life if they were so willing to experiment with teenagers in such a dangerous way. He didn’t want to believe Alan was capable of such a thing, but anything was possible.
    With Cadence’s glass of water full and in hand, he returned to the group. He handed over the glass, happy when she touched his hands with her own. Then he sat back down, his hope slowly starting to return.
    Alan ran a hand over his face. “The information we’re getting from them is unbelievably overwhelming. We did three hours of work on them this weekend and have only just scratched the surface. It’s a daunting task, and I can’t help but wonder the aftereffects of such a process being done to their minds. While it isn’t painful, it still is intense. We are taking away their memories.”
    â€œThat explains why she was such a space cadet today at school,” Orlando said. “Which is why I’m worried about her. Bad guy or not, this has got to be some form of cruel and unusual punishment. You’re positive it’s safe?”
    â€œPositive, and as we learn how to use the machine better, the easier it will. We won’t take so many gaps. The technicians think they can restore the non-war-related memories to their brains. That should make things…easier for them. The problem is finding the time to capture them again.”
    JD nodded. “Right, because the war being here is on the down-low. Taking them in as prisoners and detaining them until the process is finished wouldn’t exactly go unnoticed. Doing everything piece-by-piece is going to be messy as all get out, too. Like, what if your ex figures out their brains have been tampered with? She’s gonna be pretty ticked off.”
    â€œTicked off would probably be an understatement,” Alan muttered. “With the old rehabilitation process, we were able to help a few of the other teenagers. Those who wouldn’t cooperate with my comrades, I mean. According to my supervisor, a few of the blue tribe’s old charges have agreed to work for us instead. Trade sides.”
    â€œAnd you believe them?” Orlando snorted, his usual cynicism shining.
    Deciphering the expression on Alan’s face was difficult. He was frowning, so he obviously wasn’t