Level 2 (Memory Chronicles) Read Online Free PDF

temperature stays a comfortable constant.
    “Hey, Beckah. I’m going to bring you a kitty. Would you like that?” From the memory of hers I recently experienced, I know she has a soft spot for animals, so I figure a cat is a good bet.
    Beckah nods slowly, her chin quivering. “I like kitties.”
    “That’s great! Now, if you want your kitty, you’re going to have to lie down again. Can you do that for me?”
    She considers me for a moment and then nods again. “Okay.” She crawls over and lies down in her grooves.
    “Good girl. Now close your eyes. I’ll be right back with your kitty, Beckah.” I have the urge to tuck her in with a blanket and stroke her hair, but neither is possible, considering the lack of both. I cross my fingers that my plan will work. Perhaps I wasn’t the best friend on Earth, but I want to be someone Beckah and Virginia can count on. I need to be.
    I turn to Virginia. “Why don’t you stay here and keep your eye on Beckah while I see what I can do from my chamber?”
    Virginia gives me a mock salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
    I punch her lightly on the shoulder and then head back to my chamber. I pause to look around the hive—all the podlike chambers are lit up as the drones shoot up on memories. Why is it that only Virginia and I care about what happens to Beckah? God knows we’ve all been here long enough to form a strong bond, and yet most of the drones have never shown the slightest bit of interest in getting to know one another. I’ve wanted to get out of here before, but now the tight quarters start to choke me. There has to be more to death than this.
    I slide into my chamber and relax into my grooves, smiling as the warm glow of my hologram screen greets me. My body tingles in response to plugging in, like it always does. The pain in my hands is gone, replaced by tiny prickles of pleasure. The closest I can equate it to is slipping into impossibly warm bathwater filled with delicious spices on a chilly winter evening. Despite my chamber’scold, metallic appearance, it is a remarkably ergonomic setup. Whoever designed it—God? Angels? Evil overlords of death?—sure knew what they were doing.
    The net architecture isn’t the most sophisticated, but it has never been buggy until now. Its basic function is to allow you to access and rent out your memories as well as to rent the memories of others. When you access your own memories, you can tag them with labels. This is so you can find what you are looking for more easily but also so you can advertise your wares to others on the net. So for example, the succulent steak dinner I ate with my father at a Brazilian churrascaria in Buenos Aires when I accompanied him on one of his business trips, I labeled with “Dad,” “best medium-well steak dinner ever,” and “Argentina.”
    Obviously people want to make their memories sound as appealing as possible so that the memories will sell and garner them credits. This leads to a lot of “best ever” labels that are not at all accurate in their description. Fortunately, renters have the chance to give feedback using a star rating of one through five, five being the best and one the worst. My “best steak dinner ever” is currently rated a five, and it gets a lot of rentals, even though it costs more credits than a steak dinner rated a four (totally acceptable quality, in my opinion). People love a great steak—even, I suspect, those who were vegetarians in life. In any case, it’s much more popular than my “best brussels sprouts ever.” I wonder sometimes, though, does this collective rating of memories add value to our existence here? Do certain parts of people’spasts deserve to be remembered while others are forgotten?
    The net is a sprawling place to surf, so once you find memories you enjoy and want to come back to, you can save them in a “favorites” folder for easier access. As long as you have the credits, the net helps a lot in quelling the boredom of our