Resumo de Virtual Memory

He had asked me if it was raining, and I had answered that it was not, of course. When I turned around to face the confused fellow I realized that he was jacked in to a deck, no telling what mem he was accessing. Damned fool to be out of touch with reality on the Metro.
My stop was two blocks from the office, and I was grateful for the short walk. Two blocks wasn't far, but it was time to clear my head for the day, which was usually unpleasant anytime I had to come into the city proper.
Shortly before I reached 6900 Union Avenue, it began to rain.

Max Freeman was my boss. He was a likable guy if you managed to catch him out of the office, but a real ball-breaker at work. I was there, only slightly damp, with four other mem-jockeys.
Oh yeah, I 'write' mems.
The little gel-matrix memory packs, about the size and shape of a short pencil, held roughly 45 minutes of full sensory memory courtesy of such as I and my comrades here in this room.
Sherry Portman acted out romantic scenarios for her monthly contribution, lovely and well spoken, I'd be greatly interested if I wasn't already spoken for. Max did some technical stuff, wandering around the Steven?s Center Spaceport and compiling mems of newer technology for the geeky crowd.
Jorje Martinez was the adventure guru, wearing his mem'corder on orbital skydives, deep sea SCUBA dives, and any number of near-suicidal endeavors. He was, of course, the most lucrative 'writer in attendance.
As for me, I kept to the more mundane 'slice of life' pieces, with the occasional lecture circuit.
The lectures were a freelance deal, and I was popular for my ability to keep my eyes locked on the lecturer while bored silly. Jorje had tried it, but his eyes tended to wander and the mems turned out rather badly.
I held this month's work in a small pouch: a bicycle tour through the Amish countryside, a short canoe trip on a lake near my home (the canoe could now be written off as an expense), and a variety of shorter experiences to be picked over and used or discarded at Max's discretion.
This part of the job I could do without, and in fact could have been done by remote conference from home, if Max hadn't been so insistent on these meetings. There were several others among us who were on assignment at the moment and couldn't make the meeting, and I envied them.
"Spence," Max's chair creaked painfully as he settled his mass and leaned on the long synthwood table, "You did fine last month, but we're going to have to spice it up a bit. Your ratings are a bit off."
Max never was much for leading up to anything. He'd just spit his thoughts forth and we'd have to scramble to keep up. "Extreme sports aren't exactly an Amish tradition, Boss."
Ignored, I listened to Max rail on everyone else for transgressions real or imagined. Even Jorje collected some harsh remarks, and he smiled, "Well, Boss, I suppose you could come along and show me how it's done." receiving the same interest as my remark.
"Sherry, I've been getting a lot of requests for something Southern, Antebellum, like. Can you handle that?"
"Why, I'd like nothing better, kind suh!" in a syrupy southern-belle voice.
"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn, but it's what the Herd wants." he turned to face me, "Spence, we need to do something in your department. Management keeps a close eye on the numbers and is starting to wonder about whether the public really wants this Americana crap anymore."
I shrugged, "It's a solid segment, Max, and I think we'd lose customers without it." I tapped my terminal and a chart appeared on the wallscreen opposite Max's seat. "The admittedly small percentage of subscribers who access my mems generally do not access the others. I have a small but exclusive, and I would imagine loyal, readership and I think that's a number you wouldn't want to see disappear from the subscription rolls. Am I wrong?"
"Settle down, Spence. I wasn't suggesting that..."
"I should hope not, Max." I stopped shout freelance, as V-Mem Unlimited had an exclusive patent on the technology that allowed full-sensory memory imprints and I couldn't afford a black market 'corder.
Max, unperturbed, went on to Jorje to discuss his upcoming descent into a live volcano.

Resumos Relacionados