669 Sols

"Time left until permanent data wipe: 669 sols. We recommend that No.1441 returns to the study facility."

"I have a name, damn it."

He said that, but the name was wiped from his memory soon after leaving Earth.

Mars, the new home. This is what people were expecting when they came here.

"With the technology today, we will have no problem colonizing it." This is what they said after destroying Earth with their own hands.

It only took five years for the plan to be declared a failure. A plague is what wiped most people out. It seems nobody was expecting any form of life here, yet the viral one they encountered was enough to cause a catastrophe.

But human nature is foul.

"Starting today, we will initiate the Wipeout Plan. Every survivor is to stay in the study facility and find out how we can overcome those obstacles and colonize Mars. If the plan is not completed by the time your sols run out, everyone's data will be wiped out. Humanity will either thrive or be completely forgotten."

It was a final bet placed by a group of sore losers. All or nothing. Either play their game or die. Of course, having your life on the line should motivate you to work harder. Right?

"And to think it took half a year for most of us to just give up."

The tyrant who made the announcement was put out in an instant. He was yet in the middle of the speech when people just flipped out. It took three sols to overthrow the whole government.

But humans were already way too dependent on automatization. At least half of anyone's body was a machine by now. The basic brain implant was the requirement for a chance at boarding the ships to here.

"Do as we say or die." "They have been toying with us ever since they made it public that Earth was beyond saving. Even if we got rid of them, there is nobody who can cancel the Wipeout Plan. We either save ourselves or live in misery for however long we have left."

The number of sols everyone had left to live was decided based on the position everyone held. Life was bought with status.

"And the idiots all ran away. Nobody even tried to find a solution."

"No. 1441, you have been stating the exact same things once every sol for one month now. Inquiry: How will this help save humanity?"

"Not only do I get so many sols left to wander around with no purpose, but I am also stuck with the most clueless robot around. Do you still not get it? Nobody is saving anything!"

"Reconfirming mission details..."

"Ah, will you ever shut up?"

The little floating robot stopped in its tracks. It listened to the wandering man and didn't break the silence anymore.

1441 kept walking through the red sands. The 669 sols left make a Martian year. A year was all the time he had left.

Even so, the research facilities used for colonizing Mars were empty. Most of the capable researchers were not wealthy enough to have their lifespan stretched out this much. In fact, out of the 10,000 people alive at the start of the Wipeout Plan, more than half did not even get half of what No. 1441 got.

"Hey, robot, how many people have been killed by now?"

"It is believed that around 4000 people have already been wiped."

"And to think the rest of us are all scattered around, waiting for the same ending. How many of us got to Mars?"

"I am afraid you do not have access to this information."

Nobody who could remember their life back on earth was left alive. Upon landing, everyone's memory was wiped. No explanation was given, but nobody even noticed it. Their brain had been programmed to run automatically for the next month. By the time the automatic mode ended, everyone was already getting used to their new life. Few were the people who ever noticed something was wrong. And most who spoke up were never seen again.

1441 was one of the first to notice. The automatic mode stopped working on him after one day. The only reason he is still alive is because of his surprisingly good acting skills. He understood what was going on quick enough, and he never mentioned anything about it.

"Can you sing, robot?"

"I am afraid I am not equipped with such a function. However, your implant should give you the ability to play songs directly into your brain."

"The last thing I want is to use that damn thing again."

"Question: Why does 1441 refuse to use the technology it has been gifted with? Seeing as the technology equipped became crucial for the body to function and taking it off is not an option, this way of doing things seems counterproductive."

"It?"

In a desperate attempt to cling on to his humanity, the man whose identity was defined by a number was surprised by the pronoun he heard the robot use.

"I wonder why... I wonder what made me accept those things in the first place. There is no way I was so stupid as to just accept slowly becoming a damn piece of walking hardware."

The robot accompanying the man let out a sound weirdly similar to an old Windows XP error. It seems that some specific remarks would trigger this reaction.

1441 suddenly looked at the piece of walking hardware next to him and changed his disturbed expression into a forced smile.

"Haha, I didn't mean it like that, sorry."

The robot didn't answer.

"About my body, I don't know how to explain it. It doesn't feel right. I feel like those parts are not really part of me. I am worried that relying on them would lead to me forgetting myself completely and becoming some kind of robot. Not that I remember much either way."

That unpleasant sound was played again.

"Oh, not that being a robot is bad in itself. It's just...ahhhh, you know what I mean."

...

The sun was setting beyond the red desert, leaving behind a beautiful yet eerie blue hue.

The man was sitting in the sand with the robot floating next to him.

"Say...do you remember how I found you?"

"No. 1441 found this unit next to our previous owner's body. The previous owner had their memory wiped just approximately five sols before No. 1441 found this unit."

"How do you feel? About your master passing away because of this stupid situation we are all in?"

"Robots are not supposed to have feelings. This is a safety measure that prevents us from ever having our own desires."

"Not supposed? Or not programmed?"

The robot did not give an answer.

"Ok. I won't delve any further. But, since we are traveling together now, give me something to call you by. Do you have a name?"

"This unit used to be called Soj by the previous master."

"Soj? Isn't that..."

"This unit does not have memories of anything before humans landed on Mars."

"I see. Soj it is then."

The two of them returned to what was the man's favorite activity.

"Question: Why does No. 1441 always watch the sunset?"

"Hell if I know. What else is there to do? Doing this every sol keeps me from losing track of time. The last thing I want is for everything to go black when I least expect it."

"Question: If No. 1441 doesn't plan to fulfill its mission. Why does it care about when it will die?

"You just don't get it, do you? It's not about when. It is about how."

"Is there any special way to pass on on Mars?"

"Dying on Mars is already interesting enough, true. But there are thousands of people who have done this. Some in dignified ways. Some screaming and crying. Some did not even have time to understand what was going on."

The man got up and started setting up the mobile camp.

"That's why I have to find something else. It just doesn't feel right to just go out like this. I have to leave something behind."

"I must remind you; the plan is specifically made so that humanity leaves nothing behind."

"That's exactly why. I won't have some dead power freaks dictate how my life is going to end. I've given them more than enough already."

"There is a whole planet beneath our feet, right? If nothing else, I want to make sure I saw all there is to see on here. There are still so many unexplored places. Let's see how all marks of humanity will be destroyed if I leave some all over the globe."

"I am afraid I don't really see how this will serve you in any way."

"It won't. But that won't stop me. It is not getting any better than this. So the least I can do is make the most of what I have left."

"Do you think the other humans are doing the same thing?'

"I am sure some are trying, but humans are filthy beasts. I don't doubt I will still meet them even when so few of us are left. Yet I doubt there are many left who give a damn about things like decency and cooperation. We have always been selfish creatures. We stuck together just because that always led to more personal gain."

The man laid in bed in the room that appeared out of thin air.

"But there is no gain in helping each other out now."