To anyone who finds these memory cards,
and the messages left within...
My name is Charles Snippy. I am probably the last sane human being left on earth. I know not whether you will understand this message. I know not whether you'll even be able to decode the ones and zeros on these data cards. I know not whether my voice will even reach anyone.
I know not, whether the microscopic drives will last long enough and whether the plastic and metal which composes them will not disintegrate into dust as centuries pass or whether the titanium shell encasing them will remain in place or be consumed by the ever-changing landscape, lost forever.
And yet I still have hope that someone will find the story of my life, long past and learns something of use from it.
If you are still human, then this will be a story about the collapse of civilization of your forefathers through greed and arrogance.
If you are some other species entirely, then it is a story about how our human race was extinguished through our disregard for the balance of the planetary eco-sphere that gave us life through the long line of evolution.
For many years I served as an officer for the GOOD Directorate Inc.
The Directorate Inc have been collecting patents and copyrighting everything from programs to inventions to drugs, everything they could get their dirty lawyer's hands on, including even basic human needs and concepts. The copyright laws were extended first to twenty years, then to a hundred and then to infinite perpetuity. Once the Directorate copyrighted sleep, there was no stopping them.
The troubles started when the Directorate activated project ANNET - a Neural Network that could connect the human mind to the internet, allowing users to browse the net constantly, using eye blinks and thoughts to get information about any product, play games or even watch movies in their sleep. Can you imagine three billion people connected to the net all the time?
We thought we could save the world with information, but since this information came mostly from entertainment companies and corporations the most important things were simply filtered, ignored or lost amidst terabytes of pop culture garbage.
At first the Neural Interfaces were simple blue head-bands but with increasing technological advances they became smaller and eventually were almost unnecessary as the directorate started to broadcast the net at the same frequency the electronic impulses that compose our thoughts. Anyway, I might be screwing up the technological side of the story as I am not a designer or programmer.
This is where my memories become hazy and confusing.
I was one of the few rare human beings alive not being able to connect to ANNET via the neural network interface and thus I remained in a dead-end job, not being able to browse the net with my thoughts and unable to afford sleep. The head-band did nothing for me and the neural transmitting towers gave me a constant headache.
Every time the network tried to connect to my mind when I closed my eyes, I got terrible nightmares, and horrid visions of the future that were making me lose track of reality.
For several months of such torture, the Directorate kept me in their offices, making me file paperwork on their "test subjects", eventually transferring me to the "Dead Zone tourism" branch, away from towering cubes of the Directorate, away cities and transmitter towers.
Centuries of industrial pollution were inevitably changing the biosphere of our world and the Directorate knew it better than anyone, yet they did nothing to stop it, profit had to be maximized, production had to be increased, customers had to be satisfied. Holes in the ozone layer, irreversible changes in the atmosphere, radioactive fallout, wild-life mutations, the days growing darker and the sky turning black - none of this mattered to them.
Just one month before I left the G complex, a few truly ridiculous cases came across my desk and so I pushed a faster transfer, fearing for completely loosing my sanity.
One of these cases called "PROJECT SEVEN" was written by an an egghead engineer Dr Gromov.
Dr Gromov proposed finding the luckiest human being on the planet through the use of ANNET's search engine, scanning 3 billion human memories for such an individual using something called the "total grid".
At first, Gromov's writing was excellent and consistent. The thesis was an idea that statistics run the world and that the person who can understand all statistics will understand exactly how the world functions and exactly how humans as a species can be saved from destruction. Dr Gromov looked for loopholes in statistical data, links between human interactions throughout history, anything that could be used as a tool of control, the ultimate lever if you will... that according to the doctor "balanced the universe".
The reports descended into ridiculous ramblings about:
a)Finding a super that exists outside of time
b)The grid becoming unstable and unpredictable, almost like a nervous system of a mega-mind that spanned the entire planet, users becoming neuron cells for a self-aware entity.
Endless series of tests, haphazardly conducted (thanks to Dr Gromov rushing the project) and poorly documented (thanks to the horrid bureaucracy of the Directorate) showed a complete disregard for safety of the test facility, failure to report to superiors, and inability to explain anything about what actually occurred.
I blamed Dr Gromov for everything that occurred thereafter.
I hereby report that it is unbecoming and unprofessional for a Lead Engineer, major Directorate shareholder and Administrator in control of the ANNET database, to believe in "super-heroes that walk among humans", "Search-engine-self-awareness" and other nonsense.
ANNET is just a neural interface and search database and not "a living, thinking entity", which Dr Gromov fondly calls "my girl, ANNIE" in the emails.
Subject Seven is not a "super-hero who is going to save the world from certain doom". If anything Seven is a bumbling moron who will soon break something if you keep giving out complex machinery, like candy. Have you bothered to check Seven's IQ? Why did you even bother giving a test subject the rank of Captain and access to the databanks including all 3rd level facilities? Was that really necessary?
Have you even seen the footage, why does everyone let Seven carry a cup full of hot tea around electronics?
I sincerely hope that my report reaches you before my transfer to the "Dead Zone tourism industry" branch, because I can no longer tolerate staying here and reading the junk that comes through my desk from Dr Gromov's ridiculous experiments about "stopping gravity", "confusing the universe" and "bending time".