The Memory Bank

An extract from my unpublished Sci-fi novel

The Memory Bank is set in an unspecified time and place, in a world quite similar to our own. Technology has been developed to remove memories so they can be preserved for posterity. But something has gone wrong with the system. In this extract we meet Dan and Tallis, two teenagers whose families have been destroyed by the Memory Bank.

They arranged to meet the following Saturday, at the Memory Park. Tallis thought it an odd choice of Dan’s, in the circumstances, and Callie shrank away from her with a shudder when she said where she was going. But then Callie had been more odd than usual lately and the sun was shining reassuringly as she set off to walk the half mile to the Park. The birds sang along the way with such Spring urgency that she felt almost hopeful for the first time since Gran died.

Tallis pushed open the tall iron gates. ‘Welcome to the Memory Park,’ the automated voice intoned, ‘Please enter to share and to enjoy.’

Tallis hated the voice, which was presumably programmed to sound welcoming and relaxing. It didn’t sound like any real person she’d ever known. Far too creepy and knowing.

The main path led towards the Memory Booths and the giant Screen but Tallis took a narrower path, skirting the edge of the lake towards a thin belt of trees, signposted, optimistically, The Woodland. The daffodils were starting to come out and the glimpse of furled gold inside green wrappings gave Tallis’s heart another little jolt of remembered joy.

Dan was waiting for her on a bench overlooking the lake. He had a bag of bread or something with him and was scattering crumbs for a little collection of ducks, pigeons and speckled sparrows which had gathered round his feet. He looked up as Tallis approached and swept the last of the crumbs onto the floor as she picked her way through the birds to join him.

‘You came,’ he said.

‘Of course I did. Did you think I wouldn’t? It was me who called you, remember.’ Tallis was pleased to see some colour in his cheeks but his eyes were still dark with emotion – grief, anger? She wasn’t sure.

‘I know,’ he said, ‘but I thought you might have changed your mind. I wanted to call, before, but I didn’t have your number. And anyway I thought you might not remember me.’

‘Of course I’d remember you,’ she protested. ‘I’m not an idiot.’

‘No,’ he conceded. ‘But maybe you wouldn’t want to see someone who reminded you of a really bad time.’

‘I’m reminded of the really bad time every day.’

‘Yeah, me too.’ Dan shuffled his feet on the grass, causing a particularly bold and plump pigeon to scrabble away with an annoyed squawk. They both laughed and it felt better. ‘So why did you call?’

‘I saw the article in the paper – about your brother’s funeral.’

‘Yeah, it was nice of them to cover it.  Mum was really pleased. She’s started an album for Travis, because we haven’t got … you know.’

They didn’t have the memories. Photos on a flat page and words from a newspaper editor would have to do. But then Tallis thought about her Gran’s funeral and the patchwork of memories her friends had made and thought maybe an album wasn’t so bad. It could be held and touched and kept in the home, something tangible – perhaps more tangible than a disk in The Bank.

‘Travis sounded pretty amazing,’ she said. ‘The sport and the journalism and all.’

‘He was,’ said Dan frankly. ‘And you know what? He was nice with it. I know nice is a lame sort of word but that’s what he was. He didn’t think he was anything special so people never begrudged him his success. He deserved it.’

‘That’s good.’ Tallis fell silent. She’d wanted to meet, had felt it was important but now Dan was here she no longer knew what she wanted to say. If there was even anything to say. It was good though, sitting here in the sun with him, watching the light play across his face, the way his hair grew slightly curly in the nape of his neck. She stopped herself and jumped to her feet. ‘Do you want to eat?’

Dan looked surprised. ‘Not particularly. I just had breakfast.’ He waved his empty bag. ‘But if you’re hungry there’s a café over the other side of the park or a kiosk by the Memory Booths if you just want a coffee or something.

‘Yeah, a coffee would be good.’ Would focus her thoughts.

They strolled across the park. There were a few people around, little children kicking a brightly coloured ball, older ones clamouring to go in the Memory Booths.

‘At least Travis and your Gran won’t end up in there,’ Dan said with a grimace as they passed the first of the booths. ‘I’ve always hated how you can’t opt out so your memories can be looked at by anyone, just for entertainment.’

‘They can be looked at in the Bank,’ Tallis pointed out.

‘They can but you have to make a proper request and observe in the Bank. It’s more dignified.  Not like this circus. You know they only pick the most sensational memories, the embarrassing ones?’ He pointed at a little boy, five or six years old who was standing on the step to see into the booth and laughing at whatever he saw or heard inside.  ‘That could be someone you loved on display.’

Tallis nodded and walked more quickly. She didn’t like the storm brewing behind Dan’s eyes.

She bought coffee for them both and they carried on walking, round the perimeter of the park. Dan waited until there was no-one else in earshot before he asked, ‘Was there anything special you had to tell me or did you just want to meet up? I mean I’m glad you called. I was just wondering.’

I’m not sure, thought Tallis, noticing his fingers were stained as though he used proper ink in his pen. She liked that. ‘I thought about calling before,’ she started, ‘but I knew things must be awful for you and for your mum and I thought the last thing you’d want would be some stranger bothering you.’

‘You’re not a stranger,’ Dan said. ‘I’ve met you twice before today. That signifies a definite acquaintance.’

‘Good,’ she smiled at him and was glad to see the storm dissipating as he smiled back.  ‘I called because I was reading the article about Travis and I saw what an exceptional person he'd been. I’m not just saying that. It’s important. I read about everything he’d done, and I realised that he and Gran were the same. I mean they were both extraordinary people and they both died at the same time, in the same hospital and …’

‘Both of them had their memories destroyed,’ Dan finished for her, softly.

‘Yeah. It just struck me as a coincidence.’

‘Do you believe in coincidence?’ Dan asked.

Tallis looked up, startled. ‘I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it.’

‘Well, think about it.’ Dan stopped and looked at her.

‘I can’t think with you watching me,’ Tallis carried on walking and sipped her coffee. It was scalding, way too hot to drink. She removed the plastic cap and blew on the foamy liquid. Did she believe in co-incidence?

‘I’m not sure.  I believe in patterns.’

‘Patterns?’

‘Yeah. I don’t believe everything in life is down to random chance. I think there are patterns to our lives. We might not see them at the time but later, looking back we can see they are there.’

Dan had stopped again and was looking at her, his forehead creased as he tried to make sense of her words. ‘So are you saying your Gran and Travis dying are part of a pattern?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t see how they can be, not really. I only know about Travis because I met you in the hospital café and you were buying the last choconut ice-cream. That’s not a pattern. But when I read that article about Travis, something kind of clicked in my head. So maybe I am saying that it’s part of a pattern? Even though that makes me sound completely crazy.’

‘It doesn’t. Or only if I’m completely crazy as well. Because I think there is a pattern.’

They stared at each other, minds swirling with what they’d said and not said and all it might mean.

‘Are we going to have this conversation here?’ Tallis ventured at last, looking around at the families enjoying the Memory Park.

‘Coming here seemed appropriate in a twisted sort of way. But I don’t want to be here either. Let’s go. Now you’ve said what you’ve said, I’ve got something to show you.’