Monday 13th May 2233
No one is here to sing Happy Birthday to me. I sit alone at a 40-year-old super computer, speaking to this diary. Me, the loneliest, possibly the only, human still alive on a paradise like Earth. Truly Biblical in its Garden of Eden tranquillity. Tranquillity, ha, that’s a joke isn’t it – it is tranquil because we destroyed ourselves and every other living creature on this beautiful prison.
Today I celebrate my 185th birthday! Go me, a fading mind in a decaying body, more metal now than skin and bone, and even that’s rusting. Animal calls, once prevalent, are now virtually unheard of on land, though the rivers still teem with fish, and Alexa XII just caught the largest salmon ever for my lunch.
Life on Earth ended, without anyone realising it, on the 20th August 1977, with the launch of the space probe, Voyager 2. Nothing, beyond the wiki-page, is now known, however, long story short, it took photographs of planets and moons, left our solar system and seemingly disappeared. Some 30 odd years later it reappeared, travelling back to the Earth from the opposite direction to the one anticipated. Scientists likened the solar system to a huge glass bottle, we just cannot see the curves or the glass – or something like that, anyway. They think it went around the glass and returned to where it originated.
It came close to landing, burning up at final re-entry, on the 20th August 2047. I’ve since watched the videos on You-Tube, it was spectacular. At that time, I was a day-old foetus, waiting for my birth. I was not the last human born, as I arrived a week before my due date. I am aware of several thousand-people born after me, Humankind kept detailed records by this point. I appear, though, to now be the last one left.
It wasn’t immediately obvious that life on Earth was doomed. Millions of babies were born each day, just no newly conceived life following the fireball in the sky. Rats were the first thing they noticed, normally amazing at reproducing, they initially gave birth to their normal healthy litters, but no more came. Scientists and drug companies were at a loss as to what to test on then, and the streets got dirtier! Ironically, the rats were taking litter for their nests, so actually cleaned the city streets.
At first there was no panic, concern of course, but no panic. “Science will fix it” became the buzz phrase (again, for me this is all from history blogs). The planet saw an unprecedented surge in team working. Every country put down their guns, briefly, working together to solve the conundrum of the steadily decreasing population.
By the time I came of age, it was all about living to extremes, so people gave up on science and did whatever they wanted. Religions tried to keep people under control with their stories of the Devil and Hell. The hedonism only reverted to “Keep us alive!!!” when the first of the super-rich dropped dead without heirs. The science race began again, this time it was all about Artificial Intelligence, robots to help keep us alive, androids to serve the growing elderly population. There weren’t any young humans to train, so we created an army of helpers. The scientists worked on enhancing our bodies, prolonging life expectancies, even as our numbers diminished.
I was a farmer for decades, which became a simpler job with no animals to care for, and then my job changed to training robots to do my work for when I became incapable. I know that there were people teaching the robots worldwide. We had the impetus to do it well, so the mechanical people are perfect. They are truly kind and considerate, behaving within Asimov’s Laws, showing no signs of planning to overthrow Humankind, though they can wait me out, it shouldn’t be too long now!
So here I sit, in a warm, comfortable, beautifully presented home, with amazing food, fine clothes, intelligent (if not Human) company, but oh so alone. Alexa XII is great company, someone’s idea of the perfect woman. Alex XII is around here somewhere, he keeps my home running smoothly, a truly chiselled looking man-bot, the perfect alpha-male. Though they both sound and act like robots. No-one wanted them appearing too Human at their creation, but I do now. I need to talk to someone that understands the loneliness I am feeling.
Why couldn’t I have died with my parents, or with my older sister. Why was I left until last? The final Human.
Must pull myself together.
I need Human contact. I’ll send out another message. A worldwide SOS, surely someone somewhere will reply to me.