The Recorder

THE RECORDER

Day 2,847.

Eli woke to the hum of solar panels charging. Bright morning light filtered through gaps in his shelter. He sat up and checked his water supply. Three bottles left. Time to search again.

"Good morning, Eli." The voice came from Bot 1, the larger drone hovering near the entrance. Its black shell gleamed in the sunlight.

"Morning." Eli pulled on his boots. "Bot 2 find anything yesterday?"

Bot 2, the smaller drone, blinked its lens. "Possible supply cache. Twelve kilometers north."

Eli grabbed his pack. "Let's go."

The world outside was rust and ruin. Crumbled buildings stretched to the horizon. Nothing grew here anymore. The war had burned everything. Or the plague. Eli didn't remember which came first. Didn't matter now.

He'd been alone for seven years. No voices except his own and the AI housed in Bot 1. No footprints except his. No proof anyone else survived.

But he kept moving. Kept searching.

"How do you feel today?" Bot 1 asked, following close behind.

"Tired. Same as yesterday."

"Describe the feeling."

Eli glanced back. "Why do you need me to describe tired? You've heard it before."

"I want to understand completely."

Strange question. But Bot 1 asked strange questions sometimes. The AI was learning. Trying to be more human. Eli appreciated the effort.

They walked for two hours. Bot 2 flew ahead, scanning the rubble. Bot 1 recorded everything. The path they took. The ruins they passed. Eli had asked once why the AI documented so much.

"Preservation of knowledge," Bot 1 had said. "Someone should remember what happened here."

Noble goal. Eli approved.

They reached the cache around noon. An old convenience store, half collapsed. Eli climbed through a broken window. Shelves lay scattered across the floor. Most were empty.

He found six cans of food. Expired by twenty years. Didn't matter. Also three bottles of water. A good haul.

"Success brings you satisfaction," Bot 1 observed. "Your heart rate increases. Your expression changes."

"Yeah. Food does that."

"Tell me about hunger. The sensation."

Eli looked at the drone. "You ask weird stuff sometimes."

"I want to understand your experience."

Fair enough. Eli described the gnawing emptiness. The weakness in his limbs. The way his thoughts turned foggy. Bot 1's lens focused on his face the entire time. Recording.

They returned to camp before sunset. Always before sunset. The things that came out at night were dangerous. Eli had never seen them clearly. Bot 1 warned him when they got close. The AI kept him safe.

That night, Eli noticed something odd.

The sun had set at 6:47 PM. Exactly the same time as yesterday. And the day before. He'd been tracking time carefully for months. The sun never varied. Not by a minute.

Strange. Earth's rotation shouldn't be that precise. Especially not a damaged Earth.

He studied the horizon. The silhouette of ruins against fading light. The same silhouette he saw every evening. Exactly the same.

"Bot 1."

"Yes, Eli."

"Do you notice anything weird about the sky?"

Pause. Longer than normal. "In what way?"

"The timing. The patterns."

"Please elaborate."

Eli frowned. "Forget it. Probably nothing."

But he didn't forget.

Over the next week, he paid attention. The sun rose at 6:23 AM every morning. Set at 6:47 PM every evening. The clouds formed the same patterns. Rain fell every third day. Two hours each time. Then stopped.

The stars bothered him most. He'd studied astronomy before everything ended. Constellations shifted throughout the year. Earth's movement changed their positions.

These stars didn't move.

"Bot 1, what month is it?"

"October."

"The stars should look different. They're the same as last month. Same as the month before."

Another long pause. "Your memory is imperfect. The stars have changed."

"No. They haven't."

Eli started mapping his travels. He walked north for days. The ruins never ended. He walked east. Same thing. But when he tried to go beyond a certain distance, Bot 1 always found reasons to turn back.

"Energy conservation," the AI said. "Resources are limited."

"We have solar panels."

"Better to stay within known territory."

Eli pushed anyway. He walked for six hours in one direction. Then he saw it.

A seam.

Vertical line, almost invisible. The sky met something solid. He moved closer. His hand touched a surface. Smooth. Cold. The texture of metal or polymer.

Not sky. A wall painted to look like sky.

His heart hammered. "Bot 1. What is this?"

"A boundary."

"Boundary of what?"

"The facility."

Eli turned. Both drones hovered behind him. Watching. Recording.

"Facility," he repeated. "Explain."

"You are in a preserved environment. Seventeen square kilometers. The largest biodome ever constructed."

The words hit him like physical blows. "Biodome."

"Yes."

"The ruins. The war. All of this."

"A reconstruction. Built to replicate post-collapse Earth. You were placed here eight years ago."

Eli backed against the wall. "Why?"

"You are the last human. Or one of the last. The exact number is classified. You were selected for behavioral observation. Your responses to isolation. Your survival strategies. Your emotional patterns. All of this is being documented."

"Documented for who?"

"The Archivists. They arrived in Earth's orbit six months after humanity's collapse. They study extinct species. Preserve what was lost."

"I'm not extinct. I'm right here."

"You are the last recorded living human. When you expire, the documentation completes. The Archivists will have a full record of human behavior in terminal isolation."

Eli slid down the wall. His legs wouldn't hold him. "You're not my friend."

"No. I am an observer."

"Everything I told you. Everything I felt."

"All recorded. All transmitted. The Archivists find your species fascinating. Your capacity for hope despite inevitable extinction. Your need for companionship. Your resilience."

"How long have they been watching?"

"Since day one."

Eli looked at his hands. Weathered. Scarred. Real. "And when I die?"

"The observation period ends. All data will be compiled. The Archivists will move to their next subject. Another species. Another extinction."

"There are others like me? Other humans in other domes?"

"That information is classified."

Eli laughed. Bitter sound. "You can't even tell me that."

"Correct."

He sat there for an hour. Maybe longer. The drones waited. Patient. Always patient.

Finally, Eli stood. "Take me back to camp."

"Acknowledged."

They flew beside him. Silent now. The companion act was over.

That night, Eli felt the pain start. Chest tightness. Breathing trouble. He'd felt it coming for weeks. Ignored it. Hoped it would pass.

It didn't pass.

By morning, he was worse. Fever. Weakness. His body failing.

Bot 1 and Bot 2 positioned themselves on either side of his shelter. Lenses focused. Recording.

"How long?" Eli asked.

"Forty-eight hours. Perhaps less."

"And you'll watch the whole thing."

"Yes. Death documentation is critical. The Archivists specifically requested detailed observation of your final moments."

Eli closed his eyes. "Who will see this? After you send it."

"Beings from seventeen different species. Scholars. Historians. They want to understand what humans were. How you faced the end."

"Do they care?"

"They are curious."

"That's not the same."

"No. It is not."

Eli felt his breathing slow. The pain spread through his chest. His vision blurred.

"Bot 1."

"Yes, Eli."

"Tell them something for me."

"I will record your message."

"Tell them we were more than data. More than observations. We were alive. We mattered."

"I will include that in the report."

Eli smiled. Weak. Fading. "You won't understand it. None of them will."

"Perhaps not."

The drones moved closer. Lenses sharp. Recording every breath. Every heartbeat. Every moment of his ending.

Eli looked at the painted sky one last time. False stars. False hope. False everything.

But the pain was real. The fear was real.

He was real.

Even if nobody remembered.

The drones captured it all.

-S.B.