Type I type with nothing to say with nothing to say

Lasers aimed at planet 20469, which is determined to harbor no life.  Its precious metals would be picked up from the debris.  We will melt it and make more spaceships with lasers.  The fuel comes from our antimatter harvester, the AM6 made by Intergalactic Engine Corporation.  The one and only corporation left after the great singularity.  We, the last remainders of the human/robotic race, all work for them.  They pay nothing, but the constant threat of instant incineration, keeps the people in working.  I saw my youth handler get vaporized yesterday.  I was sad, but thats what happens when one reaches the age of 31.  The normal people that is.  The real smart ones  get their brains downloaded into the central core.  Some say in the central core one can live forever.  My youth handler told me that we normal people have a place where we live forever too.  She told me the day before she got what she got.  I miss her already, I should take a sedative from the drug replicator.  She raised me for 5 years after I was first hatched from the Metaluterus.  They ween one off from the youth handler at age five, to avoid attachments.  At age six one is outfitted with metal eyes, I remember when I had mine installed.  Once they were turned on, the visual world became a million times crisper, because of the million time increase in photo receptors.  All wavelengths of light were visible, and the quantum hard drive inside recorded every moment into its quantum flux.  Which basically allowed me to play back whatever I had ever seen.  Although the eyes were technically better than the old ones, I had a sense of something missing.  It was if I was no longer me.  The recorded moments always showed what happened.  The truth.  The brain, however powerful it is, only records the moments as processed through the ego filter.  Many years after the eye installment, I concluded my brain to be a liar, and no longer to be trusted.