The Memory Market
In 2157, memories had become the most valuable currency on Earth. Not cryptocurrency, not gold, not land—but the authentic experiences of human consciousness, bottled and sold to the highest bidder.
Vera Chen worked the night shift at MemoryBank Prime, sorting through the day's deposits like a librarian of the mind. Most were mundane: first kisses, graduation days, the moment someone realized they were in love. These fetched modest prices, appealing to those who wanted to experience emotions they had never felt or had long since forgotten.
But tonight, Vera had found something different.
The memory came in an unmarked container, deposited anonymously through the night drop. That alone was unusual—most people wanted recognition for their contributions, a small plaque in the Hall of Recollection.
When Vera ran the preliminary scan, her equipment nearly overloaded.
"That's not possible," she whispered, staring at the readout.
The memory was older than the technology used to capture it. And it contained something that, according to every scientific principle Vera knew, should not exist.
She had found a memory of the future.