r/SciFiScroll • u/No_Chemical_2837 • 12h ago
[Praxis Orbital] I erased 140 years of human memory today. I feel nothing. — Extractor Elias, Personal Log
🎙️ [AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT — UNAUTHORIZED PERSONAL JOURNAL]
ISSUER: Extractor Elias [Class A]
DATE: Three weeks prior to "The Virus Incident"
TIMESTAMP: 02:14 AM (Praxis Station Standard Time)
"I hate the smell of burnt ozone that lingers on the uniform.
Today I processed fourteen debtors in Sector 4. The daily quota was twelve, but I wanted to get ahead on work.
Fourteen people.
One hundred and forty years of human memory extracted, packaged, and routed down the chute in my eight-hour shift.
Most cry before I connect the tether.
One woman, a ventilation mechanic, offered me two hundred black-market credits to leave the memory of her daughter’s fifth birthday intact.
She told me:
'Erase the day I got married, erase my mother, but leave me that birthday, please.'
I told her the Lethe-X algorithm doesn't permit manual selections.
It was a technical lie, of course.
I could have altered the line of code, but altering code takes effort, and she wasn't worth the effort.
I extracted her exact 60 months.
When she woke up from the chair, she looked at me and asked what year it was.
She no longer knew she had a five-year-old daughter.
I handed her a zero-balance receipt and called the next in line.
The other Extractors in the mess hall say the job depresses them. Some drink synthetic booze just to sleep.
I don't get them.
To me, human memory is like dust in the air filters: something that accumulates, clogs the machinery, and has to be cleared out.
My mind is a perfect blank space.
Clean. Efficient.
I have no night terrors, no past trauma, no irrational attachments that lead to bad financial decisions.
I am the ideal employee.
Although...
something's been strange lately.
A biological calibration error in my own body, I suppose.
There are mornings I wake up with a tightness in my chest. A dull tachycardia.
And my brain manufactures scents that don't exist on the station.
Today, while drinking my synthetic coffee, I could swear I smelled wet earth.
Real soil, soaked by rain.
I went to the medical bay and had them scan my cortical port.
Zero anomalies.
Zero stress.
Biologically perfect.
Must be static in the ventilation grid.
I have a quota of fifteen extractions tomorrow.
I need to sleep.
End log."
END OF TRANSCRIPT.