This is an excerpt of a short story I wrote last year. It was selected as a finalist in ScreenCraft's Cinematic Short Story Competition. I'm currently re-working several ideas to turn it into a novella or full novel, with plans to make it a trilogy. One of the things that appeals to me most about this is that, while it certainly involves tragedy, it's a story with an overall optimistic look at the future. I'm sure those who've seen 'I Am Mother' on Netflix will see some similarities, but I'm weary of the dystopian settings in most modern sci-fi. I like to think that there's hope for all of us and the future will be brighter.
Father dies first. Mother is too weak to bury him. The
drugs don’t suppress the allergen anymore. Her lungs are calcifying. Every day
her breath gets a little shorter. If she takes the gulp of air her body screams
for, her chest cavity will crack like burnt paper. She would welcome the
release from the slow panic of asphyxia. But she has to hold on for the baby’s
sake. So that’s what she does.
They were the first couple to get pregnant. The others
were months behind and the allergen finished the women before they came to full
term. Mother and father assumed the baby wouldn’t last. They braced for the
cruelty of just barely outliving their child. But two months went by, then
three. Then they faced a worse cruelty. This atmosphere is not alien to the
child. Instead of suffocating, she will starve.
Unless,
father had said. There’s a chance.
The colony’s artificial intelligence. All but the most essential med lab
equipment. Everything was committed to the effort. Father validated motor
functions and logic pathways the day before he died. Only mother remains to
teach a robot how to be a parent. She hasn’t nearly enough time. How do you
upload instinct? What is the command prompt for motherhood?
Just
love her. Her voice is barely more than sand racing across the
outer habitat wall in the windy season.
The robot cannot feel love. Please specify directives.
Mother closes her eyes. Her lung will break open if
she sobs. Emulate human behaviors and
acts associated with love.
Define parameters.
Keep
her safe from physical harm. Don’t let her out of your sight unless it’s
essential. Promote her emotional well-being. Don’t lie to her.
There is so much more to say, but she is exhausted.
She needs rest before she can continue.
She dies in her sleep, the baby in her arms. Cambria
would have been the fourth colony beyond Earth. It collapses in just 27 months.
People across the universe watch the tragedy unfold from the isolation of their
worlds. Adrift on their little lifeboat orbs, all they can send now are
thoughts and prayers. Anything of substance is constrained by physics and
economics. Tian has yet to reach industrial maturity. Columbia is closer by a
few lightyears. Earth has the most robust fleet. No matter how or where from,
it will be 12 years before the child feels another human’s touch.
