Short Story | Scifi | Artificial Intelligence

The Last Gardener

On a lost planet, a survival pod isn’t enough

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If this message finds you, Captain Maida and I are both likely to be dead. The planet is unsuitable for Carbon-based life. We haven’t figured out exactly how things fall apart here but they do. Rapidly.

Don’t land. I repeat. Do Not Land. But if you do, watch out for the bees. They look like Earth’s bees but they’re not. And they don’t show up on scans.

When I first saw them, I was convinced something had changed. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but after the electrical storm on my last night, hundreds of them swarmed the compound I’d erected out of the remains of the survival pod.

Their iridescent wings shimmered under the first rays of sunlight, creating a gentle hum that rested softly in the morning air. It was the first time I’d seen so many of them.

We were excited to see the bees. Without a native pollinator, the job would have to be done by hand. It’s tedious work, and not nearly as effective Mother Nature.

Anyone can forgive me for being wrong. But on Earth, bees were a promise of pollination, plant species. Life.