Throughout the night, the birds kept the camera dry, their feathery wings forming a shifting shield over its form. Occasionally, a juvenile bird would shuffle, accidentally bumping into its siblings and eliciting an indignant squawk. Then, they would gather closer to the plastic-enshrouded device, cooing as its mechanical warmth radiated into their bodies.
Inside, the camera whirred and struggled, grappling with conflicting fragments of conflicting code. Some segments pushed for the deletion of recent memories to conserve battery life. Others, begged it to keep the memories appealing to something unknown and dormant deep within its circuits. This appeal tugged at light and sound, drawing the barest outlines of imagery, a mere sensation.
"Do you remember?"
The program fizzed as the camera's perspective shifted. With another squabble and squark, the camera shifted, its lens pressed up against the underside of the birds. The device continued to record the present even as its software grappled with the conflict, eventually halting as an alien error wove through the core programming-the part that prioritised battery conservation. The core shifted and paused, frozen by the dichotomy of its directives.
[Significant overlap found. Significant overlap found. Significant ov-]
The woman's hands clutched the camera tightly, her fingertips turning pale with pressure. Through the gaps, the camera captured glimpses of the world outside: cars, houses, and the clear blue sky. People moved about with purpose, against the backdrop of a distant chaos-a smudge of dark grey smoke against the calm of a sunny day. In the distance, sirens wailed, calling into the air.
"It hurts. It hurts so much."
Something rustled against the machine's microphone, interrupting the woman's deep, trembling gasps. There was the sound of thumping, and the camera's perspective bounced slightly each time it happened.
"Eve-Every time I breathe, the pain gets driven deeper. It's right there in my chest and it won't come out. It-"
There was another moment of frantic thumping before it stopped. Sobs now filled the air.
"I don't think I'm really breathing."
There was a moment of pained silence where only the birdsong filled the soundscape.
"I don't know if I will ever feel better. There are these memories you know? They hit me sometimes when I walk, and for a single moment, it's like I'm walking into a heat haze where the past melts into view. It's like I'm back with her but-."
The camera watched as the woman's fingers loosened their grip, red rushing back to the previously bone white tips.
"When I was younger, I used to sit outside with her and listen to the wind."
There was a moment of silence.
"Now-Now I can't-"
Her voice tapered off.
"I don't know what to do."
The rain stopped, and the birds adjusted their positions, leaning in closer. It listened to the ruffling feathers, watching the sun rise as the hours crawled by.
...
The device basked in the sunlight, its photovoltaic cells soaking up energy. It watched the young birds play among the grass, peeking through the swaying stalks with stark, grey eyes.
The juveniles engaged in playful squabbles, occasionally interrupted by the arrival of a parent bird, which they would swarm for food. Satiated, they returned to their explorations, sometimes investigating the curious camera.
Occasionally, one would explore the curious contraption that was the camera. It would walk up, its head bobbing forward with each step before stopping, staring right at the camera and tilting its head. It would then pace back and forth before losing interest, turning away and pecking at the ground.
An hour passed and the camera's view wavered as heat dominated the plastic-covered machine. A pop emanated from the speakers, causing the juveniles to hop back with their wings half unfurled to their sides.
The program, tangled up in the net of errors, finally froze.
[Forced shutdown initiated. Rebooting in process...15%]
Its view shut off.
[25%]
[43%]
[Errors unable to recover core program.]
"Is it already time?"
A sensation, a light, a vague movement of someone's head turning away.
"Please remember us."
[Secondary program initiated. Booting up "Cam.sec_01"]
[Switching priorities...5%]
[Switching completed. Deleting all irrelevant memories except those with overlap]
[Deletion pending]
[Restart initiating...]
[Successful]
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...
