[ WP ] Humans can now store and retrieve memories instantly with embedded hardware under the skin . Everyone 's memory is now essentially perfect . One day you suspect your memories are being altered .

Really, memchips were a life-changing technology. The tiny fingernail-sized microchips were thinner than a piece of paper and were completely inert, so they could be implanted under the skin anywhere on your body. All you had to do was have one implanted ( which took minutes with today's technology ) wherever you wanted, then touch your index finger to the appropriate spot, and use the embedded hardware in your brain and finger nerves to transmit the data directly into the chip. The memories were stored there instead of in your brain, meaning no-one forgot anything any more. The chips did it for them. 
 
 I liked to keep my memories in specific places so that the memories they stored corresponded to the part of my body they were implanted in. For example, most of my sexual memories were kept in the skin around my private parts, so that I could reminisce and pleasure myself at the same time. In a similar way, my memories of my boyfriend were kept in the skin directly over my heart, my memories of the marathons I used to run were implanted in the soles of my feet, and so on. 
 
 It was a very efficient system. All I actually had to remember was where the memories were all stored, and that was it. The only real problem was if I wanted to remember something that was stored in an awkward part of my body, like the back of my leg. It took a lot of data reshuffling sometimes if you were going out in public. That was why I kept most of my commonly accessed memories in my arms and face, archiving the others in the less accessible parts of my body. 
 
 By the time I was twenty-five, I had one hundred and seventeen individual chips scattered throughout my body. They were everywhere: under my scalp, in my breasts, on top of my knuckles; one was even inside my tongue. I probably had more memories stored in my memchips than in my actual head. I used it constantly, thinking it was a foolproof system. 
 
 But that was where I was wrong. 
 
 *** 
 
 It was a normal enough day to begin with. I stored the memory of the dream I had had during the night in my left temple, as per usual, before showering and getting ready for work. I made a quick detour to the bedroom to kiss my boyfriend goodbye before heading off. I climbed into my car, set my bag on the passenger seat, and drove off. 
 
 My memories of the route were stored in my thumb, so that all I had to do was touch my finger and thumb together to remember exactly where to go. I pulled out of our street and drove down the main road to the first intersection. The lights flicked to red as I approached, so I pulled to a halt at the line and waited. 
 
 Just then, a peculiar dizzy sensation rippled through my body. I heard a faint high-pitched tone in my ear, like the one you hear when an old television is on, but it quickly faded. I frowned, but then the lights turned green and I ignored it, pulling smoothly away down the road. 
 
 I quickly reached the office block where I worked. I parked in the underground car park and took the lift up to the forty-third floor, where my desk was. I was the CEO's secretary, so I commanded a spectacular view of the city below from my position. I dropped into my chair with a sigh and rubbed my aching feet. I had only bought these new shoes during the weekend and had n't worn them in properly yet. As a result, they had been hurting my feet all the way up here. 
 
 The memchips in the skin under my fingers presented their contents to me as ghostly images in my mind's eye, much like regular memories would. I idly flicked through them as I waited for my computer to boot up. I remembered half a dozen scenes from when I had been a cheerleader cheering on the school marathon runners before the screen lit up in front of me and I set my fingers on the keyboard. 
 
 As I began to type, a nagging thought formed in the back of my mind. 
 
 *You were never a cheerleader, * it whispered. *You were a runner. * 
 
 I shook my head and resumed typing. Of course I had been a cheerleader. Who would want to be a marathon runner? I could clearly see the memories in my mind's eye. Yes, that had been what had happened. 
 
 But the suspicion remained. 
 
 *** 
 
 Nothing else really happened until lunchtime. I went across the street to a little coffee shop that I often used during lunch breaks. They did a fantastic cappucino, so I ordered one and brought it over to an empty seat. I sat there for a few minutes, looking through notes from my bag, then turned my attention to the coffee. 
 
 I was just raising the cup to my lips when I stopped. What was I doing? I *hated* coffee. I set the cup back down in disgust and looked around. I suddenly realised that I did n't recognise the place. Where the hell was I? I scooped up my notes and rushed from the shop, leaving my coffee untouched on the table. 
 
 I did n't stop walking until I was back in my desk chair. My mind was whirling. How had I ended up in that coffee shop? I had never been in there before, had I? I pressed my finger to my left forearm, checking the memchip with my favourite restaurants stored in it. Nope, the coffee shop was n't in there. 
 
 My train of thought was suddenly broken by the CEO's door opening behind me. He stuck his head through the gap.'Rachel, can you let my one o'clock know I'll see her now?' he said. 
 
 I frowned at him, that high-pitched sound in my ear again. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.'Is there something wrong?' he asked. 
 
'My name is n't Rachel,' I said, standing up.'It's Alicia. Alicia Gomez.' I suddenly remembered something. 
 
'And I do n't work here!' I said, a little more loudly.'Where the hell is this? I do n't work here!' 
 
 The CEO looked at me in confusion, his mouth a little open.'Are you okay, Rachel?' he said in concern. 
 
'My name is not Rachel!' I shouted.'I'm getting out of here!' I ran for the lifts, leaving him standing there in shock. Several heads turned as I flew past their desks. 
 
 As I stood in the lift, I tried to make sense of what was happening. Why had he called me Rachel? My name was definitely Alicia. And how the hell had I come to be here? 
 
 It did n't matter. All I could think about was the memory that popped into my head whenever I touched the memchip that stored emergency information. The memory of my boyfriend Kyle calling my phone and telling me I needed to come home immediately. It had just happened, and I needed to get home now. 
 
 As I drove like a madwoman, that little nagging thought in my mind grew and grew. *This is n't right, * it muttered. *None of what you remember about yourself is true. * 
 
 Was I going crazy? Before I could think about it any more, I screeched to a halt outside our house and was stabbing my keys into the front door lock. I practically fell into the darkened hallway, then pulled myself up and scrambled forward, slamming the door behind myself. 
 
'Kyle?' I shouted.'Why did you call me? I was in this weird office place, and I do n't remember how I got there, and then-' I stopped. 
 
 In front of me sat Kyle, his laptop in front of him. He looked up at me and grinned. 
 
'Hello, Rachel,' he said.'Or should I say, Alicia?' 
 
'Why does everyone keep calling me that?' I moaned.'It's Alicia. Just Alicia.' 
 
 He tapped a few keys on his laptop.'Sorry, what was that again?' he said with a smile. 
 
'I said my name's Jess,' I said angrily. The little voice in the back of my mind screamed out in protest, but I was n't sure whether to believe it. My name *was* Jess, I was sure of it. Was n't I? 
 
'Okay, I'll come clean to you,' said Kyle suddenly.'I've been altering the memories stored in your memchips all day. That's why you're so confused. I can control every memory you have from this laptop. Make you think things happened or make you forget everything you learnt since you were a baby.' 
 
'But why?' I said. The nagging voice was rather smug now, I thought. Even though it was really just my subconscious talking. 
 
'Why not?' he said.'I can do whatever I want with you, and at the end I can completely restore your real memories, erase them all, whatever I want. You are completely within my control.' 
 
 He looked down at the laptop and grinned.'Speaking of which,' he said, tapping a button.'let's say hello to Ella, my devoted new girlfriend with the hyperactive sex drive.' 
 
 My inner consciousness cried out as my personality was erased and rewritten. I could only hope that at the end of this I would be given back my memories. 
 
 Either way, this betrayal was something I was *never* going to forget.
