The year is 2115, Jules Stewart is a Pattern Surveillance Officer in the Liverpool corporate strata. This is her memory store account, an archive of her investigations.

 

She needs YOU, citizens of the Liverpool Corporate Strata, to write and upload your memories of your life in 2115 to help her solve her current case, that of missing person, Estelle Fischer.

Her pioneering method of detection is to make connections between your memories to uncover evidence and establish the plot.

 

Scroll down and you can read the chapters about this current investigation on the left of the screen.

Below on the right of the screen you can read the entries of other corporate residents by selecting images marked with an asterisk* and you can add your own writing, your memories of life in the corporate strata, by selecting an image without an asterisk.

 

Discover more about this world by exploring the Map and Timeline at the top of the page and scrolling down to Newspulse at the bottom.

 

Remember the more we share the safer we are.

 

User: Jules Stewart

D.O.B 05:09:2060

Occupation: Pattern Surveillance Officer

Resides: Liverpool Corporate Strata 19

Verification rating: 89%

Use this menu to continue reading about my investigation

Part 1.

Investigation Number: 167

Entry 1.

     Four in the morning and Fat Peter makes a theatrical bow as I head for my table. I ignore him and settle into the dark corner, away from the blue glare of the neon sign over the door. A quiet night, even by Berry-Berry standards, two drinkers perched on plastic fruit, as far away as possible from each other, faces blank, focused on the network.

    I sink down into a squishy plastic strawberry that in this place counts as a chair. The menu, projected onto my retina, floats, a transparent layer in the foreground of my vision. It boasts drinks flavoured like every berry there ever was, including all those sixties splices that didn’t catch on. The menu is long, too long. I’d know it scrolling backwards. My eyes blink it closed.

    I’m about to order my usual, when Fat Peter, hovering by my shoulder says ‘Know what you need? a guavagoose shake, as good as a memory wipe or I&I therapy. Trust me it works. It’s… ’

   ‘Anything,’ I snap.

   I need my sleep sack. Peter takes a breath, about to say more. I dismiss him with a flick of my wrist. He can keep his theories to himself. Tonight I’m here to celebrate,quietly and alone and really just for my network footprint. News will be out by now, better for the heroine to finish with a victory drink than sleeping. Case 166 closed, the Lime Street Stalker captured and I’m topping the board, one step nearer to Strata twenty. I log on to see what cubes are available. There is just one vacant. The network takes me on a VR tour. Sky visible from windows, individual shower room with a water allowance of 40 gallons a day. A cascade of green leaves tumbles down the walls of the stairwell. The sleep sack looks soft and inviting. I don’t bother to stifle a yawn. All I want to do is sleep and to wake with no recollection of the stalker’s victims, their bulging eyes, purple tongues, tear streaked faces of their relatives. It's all archived in the memory store so I can forget.

   The bar’s default music selection, cuts to a jangling medley on a fruit theme, streaming into my ear canal I shake it off and set my own soundtrack, driving rain.

    Congratulations messages from the CEO’s of various corporations and requests for interviews from all the main influencers and commentators blink on the periphery of my vision. I keep them to one side. They can wait. They can all see I’m out, celebrating.

     Fat Peter passes me a tall glass of a red liquid. Apparently it contains at least five percent biological fruit. His shirt is taut across a round belly, buttons strain, trousers forced to cling low to his hips underneath the overhang of his gut, an ancient leather belt in the waistband loops holds everything in place. On his old fashioned, white collared shirt a red juice stain is splattered below his rib cage on the left and I flinch, for the tiniest millisecond, I think he’s been wounded.

     He pulls over a blueberry pouffe and says, ‘We were right then?’ nodding at me eagerly.

     I raise an eyebrow.

     ‘Come on, of course I know. Hey in this place, Berry-Berry, we’re into currant affairs, get it.’

     I groan.

     ‘It’s in News Pulse. Everyone knows.’ He waits for my response but I don’t want to talk. I drain my glass.

     ‘Suit yourself,’ he says rising slowly and with some effort, pressing his hands on his knees. ‘I just hope it’s all there in your transcripts. “Fat Peter detected the pattern first, all the crowd memories uploaded that recalled a smell of almond. I couldn't have done it without him.”’ This last muttered with his back to me as he heads for his serving hatch.

     An alert message overlays my vision, centre screen. Flashing furiously, a new assignment. I flag it Unable To Respond. Someone else can pick it up. Head of Surveillance and Detection pings back immediately that this is Top Priority and I’m the only woman for the job. Jet Wong herself has noted my pioneering use of filtering crowd memories to work out the plot and wants me to find a missing person, her adopted daughter, Estelle Fischer.

    Case 167 begins.

    Sleep will have to wait.

 

    If you have any memories that can contribute to the pattern of events please upload them using the links to the right.

 

 

 

 

 

Read memories from other writers marked with an * add your own writing about life in Liverpool in 2115 by selecting images without.

Liverpool Corporate Strata

Off the Grid / at ground level

Technology / Dysfunctional Technology

Memory and  Memory loss

Shortages and unrest

Epidemics

Uncategorised

Blank - for your imagination to fill...

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The many faces of Estelle Fischer

 

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Trees and green spaces

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Want to know what's going on in the corporate strata? Select News Pulse below to read the articles listed.

 

Map of Liverpool Corporate Strata*

 

Liverpool Timeline*

Use this menu to continue reading about my investigation

Part 1.