ARTHUR HAMMOND: PART SEVEN — THE MEMORY LIBRARY
A collection of memory books pulled from the shelves in the White Void. Left sitting on the red couch, waiting for someone to stop and read them.
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Chapter 1 — Damn, My Watch Broke.
(2162)
A young woman — maybe twenty — steps out of a classroom.
She turns, locks the door, and heads toward her car with two boxes of files stacked in her arms.
She balances them on her knee while opening the trunk — and the pressure snaps the clasp of her watch.
It falls.
Glass cracks on the pavement.
“Damn it.”
She picks it up, wincing.
Her grandmother gave her that watch when she was twelve.
Losing it feels strangely personal — like dropping a memory.
She climbs into the car and taps her personal assistant.
“Assistant.”
“Yes?” it replies.
“I need my watch fixed. Where should I go?”
The assistant calculates.
“Marmael and Gregs should be a one-stop shop for your needs.
They are located at 1345 Madison. In current traffic, drive time is three minutes.
Would you like me to calculate the best route?”
“Yes,” she says, starting the device.
Three minutes later, she pulls into a small parking lot in front of a surprisingly large building.
You wouldn’t think anywhere still fixes watches these days, she thinks.
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She presses a button mounted beside the door.
A shrill ring.
The door pops open.
“Hi, welcome to Marmael and Gregs. I’m Arthur,” the young clerk says, smiling.
The attraction is instant — electric.
They both feel it.
She offers her hand, smiling back.
“I’m Sarah.”
He shakes it, and the nervousness melts away for both of them.
They talk about the watch for ten minutes — but to them it feels like an hour,
two strangers who somehow already know each other.
She leaves her number on the pickup receipt with a small handwritten note:
Call me tonight even if the watch isn’t fixed yet. :)
Sarah walks out the door.
Arthur stands there for a beat, holding the slip, heart pounding.
Then —
“Mr. Marmael, I’m taking a quick break!”
He catches Sarah just as she starts backing out.
He hesitates — boyish charm hijacked by nerves.
“I don’t say this often.”
A breath.
“Actually… this is the first time I’ve ever said this.”
She looks up at him.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
Sarah laughs, unsure what to do with such sudden honesty.
“No,” he says quickly. “Don’t laugh. I mean it.”
She blushes, surprised by how much she likes hearing it.
He taps the car door twice — a soft, rhythmic knock.
“I’m calling you tonight.”
Arthur heads back inside.
Sarah pulls away, smiling in a way she hasn’t smiled in years.
That night, the phone rings.
End.
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Chapter 2 — The Last War.
(3212)
A violin plays in Arthur’s mind as snow drifts across the porch of a small wooden building —
or maybe it’s ash. Hard to tell these days.
Arthur sits with his hands folded, watching it fall.
“Wars… they never stop,” he says quietly.
“Maybe I can help some people survive.”
Above him, a faded sign reads:
RECRUITER’S OFFICE
SIGNING BONUS DOUBLED
A familiar voice — the one he’s carried for centuries — brushes his ear.
“Are you sure?” Sarah asks softly.
“I know we can help. But we’ve seen so much death.”
Arthur looks across the street.
A homeless man sits slumped against a wall, nearly frozen.
“Death is here too,” he says, the weight obvious.
“Maybe on the front… I can save someone.”
“Arthur Hammond,” a voice calls from inside.
Arthur stands. “That’s me.”
He steps into the office.
A man behind a desk gestures for him to sit.
“The name’s Mike,” he says. “Why are you here?”
Arthur blinks. “To sign up.”
Mike smiles. “Right — but why? Money? Glory? Fame?
Or do you just want to kill people?”
Arthur shakes his head. “No, sir. None of that.”
He leans forward, hands fidgeting.
“I could use the money. But that’s not it.”
He hesitates before speaking again.
“I want to help. The wars… they never stop. They never end.
I’m useless here. I live out in the woods, in a small cabin I built myself.
Soon the landowner will come throw me off it — happens every time.”
He meets Mike’s eyes.
“When I restart this time… I want it to matter.
I want to help.”
Mike studies him, then nods slowly.
“You sound like my grandfather.”
He slides the enlistment papers across the desk.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Arthur.
You seem like a good man.”
Before Arthur can sign, Mike rests his hand on the form.
“You got a wife? Kids?”
Arthur looks down, the question cutting deep.
“They died… a long time ago, sir.”
Mike lifts his hand.
“Welcome to the Last War.”
In his ear, Sarah whispers:
“The last war… wouldn’t that be nice?”
Arthur signs the paper.
End.
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Chapter 3 — Looking For Peace!
(3645)
Arthur sits in the corner of the room, sketching with charcoal on trash paper he found.
He sets it down and concentrates.
A memory book appears on the red couch.
Sarah picks it up.
“This is beautiful, Arthur,” she says.
“How do you get those lines above his eyebrows to look that way?”
“You crinkle another piece of paper and rub them together,” he replies.
He glances toward the dark beyond the canopy.
“I think we have another three weeks before we get to Pars.”
He tosses the sketch into the fire.
“I hope the school is real,” he says, pulling his coat tighter.
“We could teach violin. Or art.”
“It’s been so long since we’ve seen anything resembling real education,” Sarah says softly.
“Remember how much Anna loved school.”
Arthur doesn’t answer.
He just stares into the distance.
Then —
An explosion rocks the building.
Gunfire erupts.
Arthur lets out a tired sigh.
End.
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