Recalling core memories from individual storage was both a familiar and strange experience. As a security camera, its primary function was to compare these memories with the present, creating an overlap where both existed simultaneously.
The bird stared directly at the camera, with its slightly curved beak stretching radially outwards as it stepped closer.
A young girl, Caucasian with brown hair and eyes, stared directly into the camera's lens. Her face appeared to stretch outwards as she moved closer, with the glass distorting the changing depth into strange proportions. She pursed her lips.
"Testing. Is this working?"
The sound, emerging from the barely functional speakers, skipped words and syllables, sounding much rougher and more muffled than the memory suggested. The bird had hopped back at the sudden outburst of foreign sound. It stared at the camera, its beak partially open and its wings held loosely at its sides. It then tilted its head, circling the plastic object.
After what seemed to be a while, it returned to its original place, blinking blankly at the camera. Then, it faced upwards and flew off in a flurry of blurred movements and feathers.
A quiet mechanical whine escaped from the machine as another memory was fetched from its storage. It grew warm, its batteries no longer as efficient as they once were.
The woman stared back at the camera, nodding.
"Alright, so I know that it works."
She opened her mouth once more before snapping it shut. A moment later, a palm covered most of the camera's field of view as she moved it to a fixture on the wall with a small click. With the angle and height changed, the camera now oversaw much of the room, including a small bed with crumpled white sheets, a brown bedside table, and a desk in front of the camera, with half of it hidden from view.
The woman looked up at the camera once more, blinking rapidly before pursing her lips and turning away, shutting the door behind her.
The camera cracked and fizzled as its program struggled, performing rudimentary background checks in an attempt to find a reason for the sudden retrieval of memories. However, no bug was detected. So, it reached out once more, requesting human maintenance, only to be met with that familiar silence and the wind rustling the grass.
It was when the sun rose high in the sky when the camera returned to its default status, acknowledging the request it made to the quiet outer world. If maintenance didn't come, then it must have been classed as a non-essential problem, and so the camera resumed carrying out its primary function-
[Error]
"Did you ever feel abandoned before?"
[Dismissed]
-watched as insects buzzed around the dandelion flowers.
It was late afternoon, and the setting sun dyed the grasses in pinks and oranges. Sandflies hung in the air with erratic movements.
A squawk filled the gentle silence, followed by others, and the bird that had left hours before landed and stared directly in front. Another followed suit, though it was slightly bigger with brighter stripes on its beak. Then, from the rustling just beyond the camera's field of vision, three small, downy puffs with legs waddled into view
At that, the slight disturbance in the program started once more, summoning more memories from its slightly corrupted database. One of the juveniles walked clumsily forward, tottering unsteadily on spindly legs. It plopped on the floor before squeaking inquisitively at the camera.
The camera was set right in front of the woman's face. She frowned and bit her lip before closing her eyes and sighing.
"What Am I doing?"
The juvenile bird squeaked and stood up, running unsteadily into the grasses. The parents only watched, with the larger one hopping away to find its offspring.
The woman covered her face with her hands, and a strangled sob escaped. It lasted like this for a moment before she shook her head, wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, and looked to the side.
"Sorry. I can't do this today."
And with that, the memory finished.
The camera observed the birds' reaction, who all just stood still. They stared intently at the piece of plastic before walking away. In the background, the program furiously ran once more, trying its hardest to find the source of its error.
[Unintended overlap detected. Seeking assistance...]
[...unsuccessful. Resuming main protocols.]
YOU ARE READING
Of What Was Left Behind (ONC 2024)
Science FictionIn a ruined world, what traces of humans remain? In an overgrown corner of a once-intact room, nestled in the roots of a young tree, a barely functional camera watches over the decay. Maintenance calls go unanswered, leaving it to conserve power, tu...
