Log 3: Delivery Room, 28th Feb. 2236

After all, not every shuttle worker has permission to enter the delivery room.

After the Locker A project was discovered, my companion took things further. He implanted an immune program in each “passed-away” body to prevent the delivery room from restarting it, then waited until the body entered the next continent before following it and stealing its memory.

Of course, once the bodies are done, their memories still have to be properly deleted. The problem is that manual deletion is greasy and sticky: the memory is first compressed into an isolated area of storage, where it is eventually erased after several months of non-use. It is nowhere near as thorough as the low-level formatting performed in the delivery room.

This creates a problem.

For a period of time after an AI emerges from the birth point, its body can still carry memory data from the previous continent. Worse, the compressed data in the isolation area can sometimes be accidentally decompressed by the scene-induction mechanism.

The first-generation bodies are the most vulnerable. Back then, no visual-recognition algorithm had yet been developed. The system relied solely on the 047 geographic coordinates to trigger memory decompression. It did not recognize the visual environment itself.

As “psychologists,” we don’t have to worry about losing our jobs.

At this moment, the patient sitting in front of me is from the “17th century”, continent W. She often sees a man from the future standing beside the canal.

Actually, continent W plate was once used as an experimental city in the 23rd century. After a tourism company took a stake in the project, the city was dismantled and rebuilt as a Baroque-themed park set in the 17th century.

After her body “died” in the 23rd-century city, it was not transported to another place. By accident, it ended up at the corresponding location in the 17th-century theme park.

In other words, the space had not changed.

Only the time setting had.

The memories of the 23rd century are continually unpacked by those overlapping coordinates.

The result is an extraordinarily realistic “illusion” that the AI calls déjà vu.

My “therapy” is simple and crude. I give her a “Dutch Mushroom” – an ion shield filled with microcurrents that instantly overclocks her processor, dramatically expands the camera’s focal range, and floods it with enormous amounts of visual information. The dense stream of data immediately saturates the brain processor.

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