SCENE: A Therapist's Office. MARCEL sits in a chair, stage left. He is holding a tablet in his right arm, though it serves no purpose other than to be clutched close to his side in nervousness. CATE sits opposite to him on a couch, stage right. While also a bit restrained, she seems more at ease in the setting than her companion.

CATE: I didn't make you too uncomfortable before, did I?

MARCEL: Believe me, I've had worse happen. And I suppose the better to get you to... trust me.

CATE: Have you never had a blind patient before?

MARCEL: I can't say I have.

CATE: Oh, well! There is a first time for everything, right, doc? (She laughs)

MARCEL: Yes. (Beat) A first time. So, is "Cate" short for anything?

CATE: It probably was once, but that was I heard in my head when I woke up. Cate, Cate, Cate.... (Beat) Spelled with a "C", of course.

MARCEL: Right... The effects of that head injury are why you've come to see me today?

CATE: Yes, that and your little Katerina recommended it. She has such a good head on her shoulders, wouldn't you agree? It must make her a very popular young lady. If not, it should be.

MARCEL: She does, I've made sure of that.

CATE: But she could use some more optimism in her attitude. How do you think things have been getting better.

MARCEL: I'd much rather she not have such high expectations.

CATE: Huh.

MARCEL: What?

CATE: I didn't expect you to think like that.

(Beat)

MARCEL: (Slightly fidgeting in his seat) I guess you mean as a doctor? I'm also a war vet. You could say I try, but I don't have great expectations.

CATE: Can't say I relate. I'm an inventor, it's my job to have great expectations. Now, about my head.

MARCEL: Yes... This took place how many years ago.

CATE: Ah... That was September of 2389. That would make it almost 17 years ago. I guess it's made me a little loopy. Or maybe I've always been loopy. Us creative types usually are. (She laughs) But, what I'm concerned about is my memory. I can't remember a lot of what happened before the crash.

MARCEL: Ah. Retrograde amnesia, is it?

CATE: I get little bursts. Not a lot of big pictures, just the little things. I know I'm from here in the city, and that I'm an inventor. I contributed to the war somehow... I remember some of the people in my life, but not by name... I just hope I can remember more. My loved ones must be so worried about me. If I've been under the radar this long, they may think I'm dead!

MARCEL: (To the audience) Only now she cares...

CATE: How about it, doc? Will you be able to help me?

MARCEL: I'll be honest with you, Cate. Some of your memories may be lost forever, but at least it seems that some of them were important enough to pull through. It's possible I could coax them out.

CATE: Really? Oh, thank you, doc! (Trailing off) I knew I could count on you to lean on...

MARCEL: (Taken Aback) I-I'm sorry?

CATE: Uh... I said I knew I could trust you. You just seem like that kind of person you trust with your life, I suppose...

(Beat)

MARCEL: I have that kind of face, I suppose?

CATE: Yeah... Exactly that. My working sense of touch tells me that you're... trustworthy. Kind. Exceptionally intelligent. (To the audience) And familiar. Way too familiar.

MARCEL: I guess. (Beat) I could fit you in on Monday at the same time, if that's all right.

CATE: That would be perfect. Ah, of course! (Reaches into her pocket) Four thousand credits, your standard rates.

MARCEL: Oh... No, I can't take this.

CATE: Then is there anything you need fixed? I'd feel bad if I didn't pay you somehow.

MARCEL: No, but how about this? Two thousand for you. You can wire it to me later.

CATE: I suppose that's fair. I suppose I'll see you Monday, doc.

(Beat)

MARCEL: My name's Marcel.

CATE: Of course. That's... a very nice name to have. See you... Marcel. (Exits)

MARCEL: (To the audience) Is it wrong to me to wish that she hadn't come back? That she was really dead? Yet at the same time... I missed that face, and it ages like fine wine. And now she wants my help, even when I failed her then.