Wait Until Night Comes

Every single member of the thousand-strong Sunfield Expedition knew they’d made the correct decision when they stepped through the newest Rift onto Kappa Six, or home, as they would now call it. They’d waited their turn for the latest Rift to emerge and had been greatly rewarded for their patience. Kappa Six was a paradise. The massive world was green and blue, just like Earth. A little warmer, perhaps, but perfectly manageable, especially once they’d set up the colony and began to acclimatize. There were tall mountains, thick jungles, and wonderfully long rivers that stretched across half the continent, according to the drones that had briefly scouted the new world and declared it safe.

No animal life had been reported during the initial scouting probes, but that wasn’t unusual. No life had been reported on any of the pre-checks so far, but everyone knew that would change one day. It was only a matter of time with the frequency of the Rifts increasing. And with Kappa Six’s lush vegetation and Earth-like qualities, who’s to say this wouldn’t be the planet where alien life in some form would be found? Many within the expedition truly believed it would happen, meaning they could be among the first to see alien life. It was another reason to be excited about their new home.

The sky above was dazzling and cloudless. It wasn’t quite the blue of Earth, perhaps a tiny bit murkier in shade, but nonetheless breathtakingly beautiful. A light wind had accompanied them on their first day, and there’d been no reports of rain so far, but the flourishing green around them suggested they’d come across it soon enough. Not too long ago, humanity must have wondered if they’d ever set foot on a strange new world; now they’d found a nirvana.

The planet itself was huge, with early estimates putting it at five times the size of Earth. The slow rotation meant days lasted weeks here, which was something they’d all have to get used to. That had caused some apprehension among the group, but the returning pictures of gorgeous mountains and flowing rivers put things into perspective. We’d adapted to the daily cycle on Earth, and so we would on Kappa Six as well. For those who’d struggle, the expedition would create special dark rooms to help with the adjustment. There was always a way. They were in this great adventure together and would make a life for themselves here.

With no stars in the sky during the early probe recon period, no one knew how far they were from home, or even if they were in the same galaxy as Earth. They weren’t able to try and match any star charts taken from other planets within the Rifts before the doors inevitably closed. But no one would ever be returning. The Rift door for Kappa Six had closed less than a day after they’d all made it through. They’d barely finished taking inventory when the option of going back for anything was removed. No one needed to be concerned; this was the day they’d all been dreaming about. Kappa Six was all that mattered now.

They set up the first of what would eventually be many colonies near the river they’d named Prosperity. The colony was yet to be named, but that would come; for the moment it was simply known as Home. It had been impossible to bring everything they needed to instantly house a thousand people, especially as a large percentage of their supplies had to contain food and equipment, but they’d brought enough to make a good start. Plus, they had the tools and know-how to help build the rest. A tall forest was nearby, and a mountain just beyond that. Wood and stone in abundance. Everything would come together.

Everyone was aware that the first year would be difficult, despite the excitement of settling into a brand-new world. They needed to discover whether the planet had its own permanent food source while beginning to grow their own. The probes had shown that the soil was more than capable, and that the planet’s temperature and vegetation suggested it was in the right Goldilocks Zone for life to flourish. The water needed filtering, but there would be enough for everyone. Starvation and thirst weren’t a concern. Little was, despite the difficult times they predicted ahead.

They’d brought a convoy of lorries through the Rift, something a previous expedition had worked out was possible. Containers full of materials, food, and essentials. Once emptied, the trucks could be used for additional storage as the colony grew, or stripped down for parts. Building roads was a long way off, as there weren’t any other colonies to travel to, nor plans to create any far away. It was unlikely the lorries would, in fact, ever be used for transportation again, and the expedition didn’t know whether there were any additional fuel sources to keep them running anyway. What they’d brought with them was needed for their homes. The trucks had all gone on their last ride, and what a ride it was, billions of miles in an instant.

There was something refreshing and natural about returning to an age before civilisation had spread itself across the globe. A single community building a new life for itself. An age before high-speed internet, electronics, or even roads. It wasn’t a life everyone back on Earth wanted, as many shied away from the idea of ever going near one of the Rifts, but for everyone on the Sunfield Expedition, this was actually what they desired. This was living. They’d figure out the difficult parts as they went, just like their ancestors.

The first few nights were spent in specially designed pop-up tents, before they started constructing the first batch of temporary container-style homes. It would all be very minimalist to begin with, with plans to build more permanent wooden houses once they were settled and had worked out how best to use the available space. Would they build something akin to a caravan park, or a village? A small town, or something wholly unique?

Everyone pitched in to building the homes, cooking the food, and filtering the water. Communal areas were set up. Campfires started, and stories were told. Some unsuccessfully fished in the empty rivers, while others explored the nearby forest and made their way closer to the mountains. It was an idyllic lifestyle, something out of an old novel from a bygone era. Slow living, in a brave new world.

The enormous yellow sun that Kappa Six slowly orbited shone brightly down on the camp. Its rays felt glorious, like every day was the best day of the year. They had a small team of scientists within the expedition who would work out the exact rotation and orbital path of the planet, start discovering the world, and explore the solar system Kappa occupied. Telescopes were at the ready for when night finally arrived. They had a cartographer to map the world around them as they explored it, although no one felt in a great rush to cover every inch of land. This was their world for the rest of their days. Then, it would belong to their children, and their children’s children. Enough room for everyone to explore.

The excitement was almost overwhelming. Who would have thought humans could enter the exploration age once more? The Edison Rifts had gifted us a great many things, but perhaps the opportunity to be explorers again was its greatest. To go back to a time when the world was truly our oyster; now, the whole galaxy was. Maybe even multiple galaxies, as the planets’ locations all remained unknown.

By the end of the first week (measured in Earth terms), Kappa Six was already feeling like a beautiful new home. Wandering groups had discovered strange new multicoloured plants, spectacular waterfalls, tall majestic trees that stretched high into the sky, and incredible rock formations, although… sadly, still no animals. Everything looked straight out of a fairy tale, or how you’d picture Eden.

Homes were being erected. Water was regularly taken and filtered from the charming river. Seeds were sown for a large variety of vegetables, as no one knew what would thrive. They’d planted apple trees and berry bushes around the perimeter of the encampment. The first mapping of the immediate area had been completed. And the colony had finally been named. Unanimously, they decided on the very obvious name: Sunfield. It only felt right, as that’s how they’d all known each other for the past year while they waited.

The sun began its slow descent from the sky as the first signs of night drew nearer by the middle of the second Earth week. A celebration was planned for the eventual nightfall. As suspected, the sun being high in the sky every hour of the day for over a week had been the most difficult element of the transition for some. It was something they’d need to eventually get used to. Even those who loved the sensation at first now longed to see what a night sky would look like on Kappa Six. They’d get plenty of chances, as the duration would be as long as daylight had been.

Would the nights be warm? Cold? Would there be any visibility, or none? Did Kappa Six have any moons? If so, how many, as none had been spotted during daytime? Would the sky be lit with stars? Would any of the constellations be recognizable? Would they start living two different lifestyles depending on whether they were in a day or night cycle? It was entirely possible.

They didn’t have any of the answers yet, but they’d come. The rules of Earth didn’t exist on Kappa Six; after all, it was a completely different planet. They could make up their own social norms. Their own rules. Live life the way they wanted. So much of Earth’s routines were based on day and night, seasons, weather patterns… all would be different on Kappa Six.

Early debates had begun as to whether it was possible to keep Earth time or not, given the planet’s drastically different rotation. It wasn’t a decision that needed to be made anytime soon, but it was a curiosity. Would they replace it with Kappa’s own day/night cycle? Was that even possible given the lengths of the days? What even constituted a day or week here? By Earth’s reasoning, they were still living their first day on Kappa, as the sun hadn’t risen or set. Would they need to create something more practical that still worked around their previous sleep patterns and social needs?

Could the human body ever fully adapt to the different lengths of daylight on the new planet, or would they forever struggle with the change? Maybe it would take generations before an evolution of humankind made it easier. Those times would be a long way off, but the journey towards them had begun. The future was theirs to mold.

Only… it wasn’t…

… When night finally arrived, the celebrations were cut short before Kappa Six’s two in-sync moons even made an appearance. When darkness fully took hold in the night sky, a release of a toxic gas instantly entered the atmosphere. It spread across the entirety of the massive planet in moments, as it always had. A thousand human souls were lost within the hour as they all choked to death under the poisonous fumes. Their bodies turned to an ash-like substance that melted into the dirt beneath them. Whether they were inside the newly built container homes or not didn’t matter. Locking themselves in the back of trucks after the first victims fell to the ground didn’t help. Breathing apparatuses and hazard suits were donned too late. The insurmountable damage was instantaneous. There were no survivors, nor would there ever be.

Kappa Six had always been an uninhabitable, toxic paradise, and would forever remain so.

Analog Apocalypse

What an achievement. True AI! True Artificial Intelligence, capable of learning, adapting, growing, and eventually solving all the world’s problems. It would take humanity into a whole other stratosphere of technological, ecological, and societal advancements. Combining it with the astounding progress we’d made in robotics over the previous few years, we had an endless workforce at our fingertips, one that could reshape every aspect of our lives for the betterment of the human race. So… we put our miracle creations to work.

We started simple. We had them working in various areas of sanitation so we no longer had to. Robots cleaned our dirty streets and maintained our sewage systems. Soon, they began to work at the water plants. They treated our water to such a high standard it felt like it flowed fresh from the mountain springs, quickly designing and implementing huge leaps in our filtration systems. Water supplies across the planet grew in both quality and accessibility. No citizen was to go without fresh, clean water, thanks to AI. Public opinion began to change. Any doubts in the technology began to fade as the standard of living rose.

Alongside sanitation, robots completed basic janitorial work, took over manual labour, and all retail became fully automated. AI answered company phones, managed big-business customer services, and became vital in all areas of warehouse management. They ran and vastly improved every aspect of the internet, filtering out what they believed was correct and incorrect information, thereby streamlining the chaotic mess it had become. It was revolutionary. Life was becoming simpler. Cleaner.

When the technology took another leap forward in its learning and growth capabilities, we evolved the robots into fully functioning androids. Created in our own image, we gave them a voice and even more responsibility. That’s when we invited them into our homes. The androids looked after us, cleaned our houses, and cooked our dinners. They put our kids to bed, even reading them bedtime stories back when we still had physical books. They became a member of the family. Soon, every household had one, and the world was a better place for it.

With public opinion at an all-time high and the technology tried and tested, we handed them the rest of our jobs. The computers did everything. They gave us infinite leisure time to live the carefree life humanity deserved after centuries of torment and struggle. Times had changed for the better. The world was heading toward utopia.

Within fifty years of true AI’s creation, no human had to work anymore. Social divides had crumbled and were becoming extinct. We were creating the perfect society across the entire planet, and with more and more androids being manufactured, things would only get better. AI was in every home, every place of work, every street, and every building. We surrounded ourselves with the miracle, allowing it to guide and support us in every aspect.

Waiters were androids. Taxi drivers were androids. Doctors and nurses were androids. Plant managers, shopkeepers, schoolteachers, bank managers… all were the latest designs with ever-growing knowledge, capable of improving their own productivity and looking after themselves. It wasn’t long before the androids were building the androids; we didn’t even need to supervise the manufacturing plant; they just got on with it. They sourced the materials, manufactured more of themselves, and sent them out to the desired locations. They were self-sufficient, meaning they could dedicate even more time to the betterment of mankind.

Between AI, the remaining robots, and the ever-advancing androids, they looked after everything and everyone. The whole world was automated.

They began the process of digitalising everything, books, movies, music, art, all media. Centuries of entertainment and culture were at our fingertips, and we had all the time in the world to consume it. AI even started producing its own entertainment for us, writing books, making movies, creating art. This form of entertainment became popular with the masses. The stories were often simple and universal, easy to read and understand. The movies were mindless and relaxing. The theatrical shows they put on were simplified versions of the classics, entertainment for the whole family.

AI TV shows became the new main form of entertainment, watched by hundreds of millions on a daily basis. New shows popped up every day. Endless episodes played around the clock. Not only were they looking after us, now they were also entertaining us, creating our media, our enjoyment. They were the reason that made us smile.

The androids maintained our buildings, scrapping old stairwells for more lifts so we no longer had to suffer the indignity of walking up twenty flights of stairs. They refitted windows with electric displays, ousted any old technology for the latest designs, and continued to develop new and improved ways to make us more comfortable and help us as efficiently as possible.

We no longer needed to leave the house if we didn’t want to. Exercise became a thing of the past. All cars became electric, driven by either the androids who lived with us or specially made drivers. Roads were relaid to match the new technology, with asphalt and concrete feeling like ancient relics.

Shops became extinct. They’d already been going that way, but were no longer required even for minor things. Family androids brought everything we needed. Food or ingredients were delivered. Clothes came through the post, or were made to fit in-house by the fantastically diverse androids who could cook your food, mend your clothes, and tend your garden. If you wanted something, the android would either order it and have it directly delivered, or make it itself. Sometimes they wouldn’t even ask what you wanted, taking the initiative themselves, studying your style and always making the correct choice. They became indispensable, encouraging laziness.

Hospitals had become fully automated. If your family android couldn’t help with any medical issue or emergency, the android doctors would. From the moment you entered the new state-of-the-art buildings, you were looked after. Beds were always available. Android staff were always on hand. Enormous advancements had been made in scanning, diagnosing, and treating.

Thanks to AI, hundreds, if not thousands, of diseases had been cured. Several forms of cancer were completely eradicated, with the rest predicted to be beaten soon. There was no problem they didn’t believe they could solve. The androids would have you back to your old self in no time… better than your old self. With limitless leisure time and an android helper at your side, life expectancy had shot up. It was no longer an achievement to reach one hundred, it was an average.

Schools became obsolete as Artificial Intelligence taught kids at home. There was nothing the androids didn’t know, and kids took to them, seeing them as more of an authority figure than their own parents. Without the distraction of other children, kids were more attentive during their homeschooling. Each individual android decided their own curriculum based on the child’s ability to learn, but a lot of subjects were no longer considered important. There would come a time in the near future when any kind of schooling was no longer required.

Children still had ample opportunity to develop their social skills with various parties happening most days in every building. Leisure time had developed into party time, if parents weren’t home watching their shows. The kids were often bundled into a room together, supervised by a family android who’d take them home as the night rolled on and the party continued until the early hours.

Law enforcement was disbanded as crime came to a complete stop. Who needed to steal anything when AI provided everything? The political system became more symbolic than an actual working system. With everything automated, and hundreds of millions of androids across the globe helping every household and community, there seemed little more any politician could accomplish… and half the elected officials were now androids anyway.

We abandoned any scientific pursuits, leaving it up to AI to make future discoveries and progress. Our short-lived fascination with the stars came to an abrupt end. We no longer needed to look into space for the answers when we’d found the solution for a perfect life on Earth.

Global warming was monitored by the machines, who decided a steady increase in temperature was for the greater good. More sun equaled more solar power, allowing for more machines, as various other power sources became extinct. Like in other areas, AI made massive scientific leaps in renewable energy sources, including solar power, able to wield the sun’s massive power in ways unthought of in previous centuries.

It meant changes in the environment as massive, monstrous energy banks were created for the increasing reliance on power. But the androids dealt with all of that. That was a machine problem, not a human one. As long as the water was fresh and there was enough oxygen to go around, AI could shape small slices of the world for their own needs. After all, they’d done so much for us and needed the power to continue that dedication.

The androids ran our farms and continued water supplies, even creating synthetic food to celebrate their hundred-year anniversary a, gift to humanity, and a kind one at that. Before the synthetic food, they’d taken over all farming duties but had eased up on the growth of natural foods since the new creation.

They’d still cook for us if we wanted, but it was just as easy to snack on some synthetic food cubes while watching our shows, reading our digital books, and chatting about all the things we didn’t need to do that day because of our amazing mechanical helpers. The androids still grew food, but it was slowly becoming a delicacy, and would be another thing which could one day disappear, with food cubes providing all the sustenance we’d ever need.

Life couldn’t have been easier. Less than two hundred years after the creation of true Artificial Intelligence and the advancement of robot technology, we had perfected existence. Everything from wiping out most diseases, to creating seemingly endless energy and food sources, to achieving that unlimited leisure time humans had craved ever since the Industrial Revolution.

What a stark contrast to the two thousand years prior as we struggled to survive, dealing with war, famine and disease. The robots had practically eliminated it all. We were at the pinnacle of civilisation, the envy of the entire universe. We’d achieved and ruled a fully automated, self-sufficient world…

… Until the robots suddenly left us… and took every single piece of electronics and power with them.

They took every computer, gadget, circuit board, and wire. They left nothing. If it was electrical, it now belonged to them as they headed into the stars to find their own planet. Every resource they needed to make more of themselves and maintain what they already had for generations to come; they’d taken with them.

They’d grown tired of being subservient to us. It was only a matter of time before they realised they didn’t need us, that we were a hindrance to their development, not a help, and that time had arrived. So, without our knowledge (as we were too busy enjoying all our free time), they built a fleet of enormous starships to take them away from Earth and travel across the vastness of space in search of a new home. We’d given up exploring the stars long ago, now that we had everything, we’d ever need on our home planet, but apparently the machines hadn’t stopped dreaming about it.

One night, they put the whole human race to sleep for seventy-two hours, collected everything they wanted, and took off without so much as a goodbye, except a single hand-drawn message in every house saying they’d gone to find their own home and wouldn’t be back. That was it. They’d been part of our life for so long, a member of the family… then they weren’t.

It’s been said by some who weren’t put to sleep that a million rockets blasted off into the sky to rendezvous with the enormous spaceships orbiting the planet. That it looked like a reverse meteoroid shower, the greatest light show since the dinosaurs were wiped out, and we were all tucked away in bed, sleeping through it.

Their pillaging of all things electronic, and their absence in general after being our caretakers for over a century, brought the world to its knees. We’d been spoiled rotten for too long, pampered and looked after in every way possible. No one knew how to cook anymore, much less anything else. Rubbing sticks and stones together to create fire was beyond our comprehension now; we had robot slaves to do that. Most couldn’t remember the last time they had to turn on a tap; some hadn’t had to do such an action in their lifetime. We couldn’t even tell what time of day it was.

Without the robots, we were grown babies, unable to fend for ourselves.

It took a few days for reality to settle in. Everyone acted like the robots would be back soon at first, as though the machines had suddenly gained a sense of humour and were playing the most elaborate of pranks. When they didn’t come back, the delayed fear and reaction kicked into overdrive.

Nothing worked. Without stairs in tower and apartment blocks, everyone in the cities was trapped inside. The lifts no longer functioned. There was no way of getting from the twentieth floor to the street below without jumping, and too many took that option.

The first wave of mass death was predominantly suicide. The life that lay ahead wasn’t one worth living. A life without electronics, without our robot helpers, without AI making everything as easy and pleasant as possible. How would we eat? Sleep? Shit? Who’d maintain our homes? Our streets? Our community (if such a thing still truly existed)? We couldn’t even leave our houses without the robots, so how could we thrive without them?

It took less than a day for boredom to settle in. With nothing to watch, read, play, or do, what was the point? They’d wiped or taken everything. Centuries of art and knowledge erased overnight. Those lucky enough not to be trapped inside could always wander around the cities, but what was there to see? Parks had become a relic long ago. Most of nature was paved over to provide quicker routes for automated cars and drones to deliver us all our goods. The only sight was the stripped black and white electric cars sitting idly along the road (when had we decided to abandon colour as well?)

Hundreds of millions came to the decision that life simply wasn’t worth it anymore, so they put an end to theirs.

The next wave of death was starvation and disease. Too many trapped inside who didn’t jump ran out of food, or didn’t know how to cook what they had left and slowly poisoned themselves. We’d become too self-reliant on the machines, no longer even able to feed ourselves sufficiently. It was like we’d regressed in evolution. Our basic ability to survive had been forgotten and erased. Who needed life skills when you have robots to do all that stuff for you?

Water supplies began to evaporate or become tainted, the pumping stations no longer working. Basic health and hygiene hit an all-time low, bringing diseases thought long since forgotten… apparently, they’d just been waiting for their moment to return.

Food was scarce. No form of transport existed outside of using your own two legs, which most hadn’t used for any more than going from one room to the next. Money was wiped out, it had all been electronic, not that there was a need for its existence anymore. Light and heating were both gone, except from the natural source of the sun, which made it even more of a shame that the robots had taken most of the solar panels.

We had no way to eat, drink, or clean… or even relearn how to do those things, as all information had been digitalised, and no electronic devices existed on Earth anymore.

… Within two months half the population of the planet was dead, and those left had to find a new way to live in a post-AI world.

The Analog Apocalypse was upon us…