In a transhumanist post-mortality world, it makes sense to store memories and knowledge in a secure cloud, bringing them into local storage only when needed.
And that works fine until something goes wrong, the cloud is rendered inaccessible, and neither you nor the vaguely-familiar folks you’re stuck with remember how to get your memories back.
Post-Mortality doesn’t mean post-scarcity, so not everyone is alive at one time. Which becomes a problem when the information you need is locked up in the memories of one person who’s currently dead, and isn’t due for instantiation for another 50 years.
Every time you ‘access’ your memory, you change it, so to preserve those precious moments, you need to remove them & put them somewhere safe.
Which leaves the question of what fills the hole left behind.
A group of people wake up in a beautifully appointed memory treatment spa, feeling refreshed, and with absolutely no idea why they’re there. Or where the staff are.
And then they find the bloody handprint.
It was only by pure fluke that the storm disrupted the Signal enough for you to realise that your memories were false, being beamed out to overwrite the whole history of the world.
Now, with the Storm of the Century bearing down, you’re planning to find out what’s being kept from you. And why.
Ocean, by Warren Ellis