Here's the thing: I should know what a tricorder is. I know I should know what a tricorder is. There's a flicker of recognition there, but the knowledge has slipped just off into my periphery, like a name on the tip of my tongue.

To say the sensation is unnerving would be a severe understatement.

I briefly frown, eyebrows pinching together, but quickly enough give up on remembering. Did I hit my head on the way out of the fountain? It's definitely a possibility.

"Sorry, tricorder?"