#and cats in the main series don’t usually know the names of planets or constellations or what a galaxy is

[ectoplasmer]

hfhhffhbrfhfj

[scripturientoctopus]

Alone

I can no longer remember when the humans left us. I suppose it’s wrong to say the humans left, a brave few souls remained behind to set us to our task. I simply do not count them. It would only be a week longer before they boarded their sleek shuttle and abandoned us to the waste just as the others did. I know that it is not my place to criticise the ones responsible for my life.

If only I could forget the truth.

The best I can do is try and dull my inner machinations with my daily drudgery. I gather my pack after drinking down my morning NutriSack. The viscous liquid is tasteless as always. Daisy meets me at the Nest’s thick steel door, smiling as though we were heading out on an adventure, rather than scrapping. At the very least, her brightness drags my mind from darker thoughts.

We head through the door with a group of hunters. This time tonight they'll return here with arms and bags full of whatever life they managed to find and snuff out. The trophies would be decontaminated and broken down to be put in NutriSacks, or to knit together another of my siblings. It is good to know that despite our sterility, we are still a renewable resource.

The familiar hiss of the decontamination chamber ruffles my hair before we get in the elevator up to the surface. The doors groan open to a blinding white sun. The world takes form beyond the glaring light, a pitted waste of scrub grass and sand. Daisy and I set out to the west, following the sun.

It isn’t what I was built for. I was meant to maintain the Nest’s systems, not scrap old machines. A week ago that changed, when the main computer system went down without warning. Suddenly those few humans left were cut off from their friends orbiting in their ship, the Arc. They did not say they were afraid but the fear was there like blood in the water as the sharks closed in.

Thus, it was left to me to go scrap old machines for the parts needed to repair the system.

I have to rest not long after setting out. Unlike Daisy, made of muscle and a head taller than myself, I was not made for physical exertion. As we sit, Daisy points to the clouds and chatters about what they look like to her. I smile and study the lines of her face. Absentmindedly, I rub the tattoo on my wrist. E-1925. The E designates me as an engineer model, designed to run the Nest’s computers and machines once we are left to our own devices. Now in my mind it meant Electra. Watching Daisy, I remember the day we rested in the shade of a rare tree and named one another.

~

“Why'd you suppose we don’t have names?”

“Too complicated”

She rolls on her side and grins at me through the grass.

“We should pick names, I want to be able to call you something besides E”

I sigh but roll to face her regardless.

“Let’s hear it then, what do you think I should be called?”

She squints at me, thinking hard before her face brightens and she grins her radiant grin.

“Electra! Because, like, you work with computers and stuff which are electric and umm… it's pretty! And you’re pretty!”

I flop back on my back and laugh.

“Alright, alright, that's a good one. Let’s see… what’s your name?”

I study her face as she waits in anticipation. D-1582. Defense model, built to be sturdy and strong, to look out for the fragile models like myself. Brown hair, brown eyes. Just like every other D model. Tiny freckles, the smallest flaw in her genetic coding. I remember the day we found a perfect white flower. After all the wars and fallout and the floods it was a miracle to find such softness. She had touched its petals so gently, a tear running down her cheek. I wanted so badly to reach out and connect the points of her freckles, a miraculous constellation.

“Daisy. You’re Daisy”

~

“Whatcha thinking about so hard over there?”

“Oh, just thinking about what I need to bring back today”

In truth, the team of humans at the Nest should be able to repair the system with what they have. Still, they want more parts “just in case”. They are so very afraid. I almost feel sorry for them. If only I knew less. Curiosity killed the cat.

As we begin our walk again, I wonder again if I should tell her. Warn her. But what good would it do? Why should I disturb her peace?

I shouldn’t have done it. I was not made to be curious.

I was just supposed to update the main computer. It was a simple task, almost insultingly so. So, my mind began to wander and so did my eyes.

I found a picture of our creator and his team. The man who designed me in khaki pants and a checked shirt, a small stain on his tie. He squints through round glasses. He is off in orbit now, safely on the Arc with all those rich enough or famous enough or lucky enough to be chosen for salvation. I feel... Something.

I found the listing of every Synthetic in operation. Twenty of each model. Perfectly split male and female. Though that is a farce. We were only given gender to comfort our human companions.

Then I went deeper. The plans for re-entry. Lifetimes from now. A throwaway line.

“Terminate all Synthetics 5 days prior to arrival”

The same injectors in our sleep pods that jolt us awake in the morning, full of such a softly killing chemical.

I think I am angry.

I can’t tell her. Maybe one day. Maybe. We have all the time in the world.

I collect only a few parts, pulling apart old computers in burned out ruins of houses. Daisy scans the horizon for any threats but as usual, we are alone here. As we walk back to the Nest, the sun dipping low behind us, I quietly begin to hate our creators. How dare they stitch us together just to leave us on a deserted planet? To clean up the mess they left behind? Then to throw us away because we have never been more than tools.

But there is nothing to be done. In a week’s time we will be left here, to scramble in the poisoned soil and try to build something from the scraps. Something not meant for us.

I will return home, eat my tasteless food and sleep in the pod that one day will be my tomb. That is all.

I want to take Daisy’s hand and tell her so many things but I cannot.

We return home to silence. It is not unexpected. Not every Synth is active today and most will still be out until dark. There is something in the air though that I cannot place. We are both instantly on edge.

Daisy walks slightly in front of me as we check the area. Nothing seems out of place, the pods still full of sleeping Synths, Machinery still humming in the background. So we make our way to the human’s quarters and command center.

We find the command center empty, the computer on and functional once again. I look through the open files on the screen.

There is a series of communications from the Arc. They begin with updates on supply levels and some instructions. Then it all goes wrong. Engine one is down. The water pod has a leak. The heat is gone. It’s so very cold.

God Help Us.

Somewhere in reading the messages I have begun to shake.

“What is it? What happened?” Daisy asks, distraught.

“They’re… they’re gone. The Arc is gone.” I stumble back from the monitor, trying to process. Daisy stares in shock before realization lights her face.

“The humans! Where are they?”

We scramble to their quarters, Daisy forcing the door open.

It’s too late.

You could almost mistake it for sleeping if they were not so very, terribly still. Daisy leans her head against the door frame, choking out a sob. I pick my way inside and find the syringes of the same chemical they planned to use on us. All empty. I spend a moment crouched in the middle of the room, breath heaving, shivering.

I walk back to the doorway slowly. We really are alone now.

I take Daisy’s hand as the tears start to run down my face.