Solstice for a Doomsday Bot

It is 8:47 pm, and the sun is setting. 2 hours, 27 minutes, and 43 seconds have passed since I was placed outside for an unknown reason. 

I am D-18570, Doomsday Bot. I am tasked with keeping one family safe and happy in a bunker to outlast the decay that has spread across the continent. This bunker houses two men and their daughter, Myla. Myla was the one who put me out here, as per the request of her father, Tom. I believe they do not want to celebrate solstice with a robot and would prefer it be between the two of them. 

Tom has shown hostility to me over the past 3 months, quite a change in tone to how he treated me in the beginning. But that is ok. 

The other father, Bryan, left the bunker 3 days ago. Myla was downtrodden after that, as is expected with children with situations such as this. It also explains Tom’s sudden hostility towards me. 

Why did he leave? I should know the answer, but I don’t. There are many things I don't know. 

There were sounds of a party of sorts being thrown down below in the bunker. Something must have toppled over, as I heard a loud bang a few moments ago. 

I begin a slow descent down the stairs into the bunker. It is 9: 27 pm. I am disobeying orders? I was told to stay on the surface for a while. I do not know hoe long “A while” is. I am not disobeying orders. 

The lights are off and there are remnants of the few streamers that got stashed during the stocking of the bunker hanging up. Myla would go on and on about the solstice parties they used to have as a family. On and on about all of the fun they had. All the festivities shared. The party is clearly over. I wish I had been there to witness the fun they had. I would have recorded it.

I am D-18570. I am to keep the bunker clean and up to code. There are cracks in the walls, I have failed that task. 

I enter the bedrooms. Were they done with the party they surely would have gone to bed. Tom has been terrible about keeping up a normal sleep schedule, but has been trying to get it back on track for Myla’s sake.  

There is no one in the bedroom. Three beds are stacked up against the wall, only one being neatly made. The lights in here are off too. I cannot fix the cracks in the walls with my current equipment, but I can keep the sleeping quarters tidy. I begin making the beds. 

My thermal detectors are telling me that it is 79.68 degrees Fahrenheit in the bunker. At this temperature, Tom would not be able to sleep comfortably. Myla would follow her father. That is why they are not here. It is too hot and they just got finished with festivities.  

All is fine. 

There has been many tears over the past week, all in the wake of Bryan leaving. I do not know why he left, as I am supposed to be the only one to leave this safe heaven. But there are many things I do not know, so it is fine. 

There is dripping coming from somewhere deeper in the bunker. I do not remember anything leaking while I was down here last. Perhaps it was a mistake during the party, while I was outside? Or perhaps I had simply forgotten about the possible leak, stored it deep within my data banks to focus on more pressing matters. Would I find the data if I searched them? It does not matter, I have more pressing concerns to deal with. 

I have been terrible at remembering things as of late. Maybe that is why I was put outside? Better to have me not know at all than to forget something important from the party and offend someone. Maybe I have forgotten the reason. It does not matter.  

All is fine.  

I should go find the source of that dripping sound. Would it trigger Myla’s misophonia? Obviously not, as there is little sound in the bunker besides the filtering of the ventilators and that dripping. 

It is 9:34, and I have spent far too long making the beds. 

I am D-18570, and all my processes have been slowing down. Is it due to age? I have been active for 3 years, 8 months, 27 days, 18 hours, 37 minutes, and 19 seconds. It is not impossible, but highly improbable. Perhaps it is linked to my memory problem. It does not matter, in the end. There are no tools to fix me, just as there are no tools to fix the cracks in the foundation. 

I go through the main room and enter the pantry. The lights here are also off. The shelves, once filled to the brim with supplies, have dwindled significantly. What is left is strewn about, no regard for organization or proper storage. What’s a few minutes soring going to do but make this place more presentable? There is no rush to find Myla and Tom. 

I used to do this kind of stuff every day. Sweeping, making the bed, taking stock of all the supplies. I was far more useful back then. Far quicker as well. It does not matter, all that matters is that is getting done. 

There are 2 cans of peaches, 3 ½ cans of various beans, 1 can of pineapple, and no water bottles.  

That is a problem. Not a problem that can’t be fixed, but a problem none the less. I should inform Tom and Myla of this immediately. 

There is but one last room in the bunker, the generator room. That must be where they are. It must also be where the source of the leak is.  

Myla apologized to me while she was bringing me outside. I do not know why, but there are many things I do not know. I will ask her about it after I inform them about their depletion of supplies. I do not think I will be much help in their endeavors to get new ones. Maybe that is why Bryan left. 

I enter the last room. Unlike the last three rooms, this one has the lights flipped on.  

I have located Tom and Myla, and I have located the source of the dripping. 

Myla is sprawled out on the floor. Her father is slumped in the corner. There is a large amount of blood coating the side of the room they occupied, don’t people need that? They are obviously hurt, I must assist them! 

But I have very little medical knowledge. Why don’t I know more? There are many things I don’t know, but this shouldn’t be one of them. It doesn’t matter. The supplies have been dwindled so low that even if I had the knowledge to help them, I wouldn't be able to. 

I am D-18570. I am a broken doomsday bot. I have failed my objective. The date is the 21st of July, 2143, the day of the summer solstice. 

Bryan realized far quicker than I that they were running out of supplies and time, and set off into the wastes to search for more. That was not 3 days ago, but 3 months ago. I am broken and incapable of traversing the wastes effectively. 

I play one of the few audio recordings I saved.  

“You can’t go out into that hellhole, you’ll fall over at the first pebble and die! You can leave that bullsh-” Bryan. “Hey! No swearing in front of Myla!” Tom. Both their tones are joking. Fast forward.-  

“Take the thing outside, would you Myla? We’ll have a party and then meet up with you’re dad, but I don’t need robo-guilt on my hands.” Fast forward- 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I-I’ll miss you.” Myla, her voice thick with tears begging to be set free. How had I missed all this? 

It doesn’t matter. It never mattered. I never mattered. 

I am D-18570. I have failed my only objective.  

I leave the room, both Tom and Myla are long dead, their bodies cold despite the heat in the bunker. It is a long trek back to the outside, where I was put by Myla the first time. It is 10;03 pm. The sun has long since set. The solstice does not prolong the sunset for that long. 

I will begin traveling along the path I believe Bryan took soon. I may find him and tell him the fate that has fallen his family, or I may find his corpse. most likely I perish long before then. But before I begin- 

I have a few more recordings I wish to listen to.