Everything Still Works: A Science Fiction Story About AI, Labor and Survival

I. Everything Still Works

Lena tells herself that nothing is wrong because her powers will never be cut off.

The elevator is still running on the spindle in her apartment. As always, empty traffic buzzes overhead. Reruns are still playing on her video screen. When It Was Just Us—she laughs and cries. All for 22 minutes.

If the machine had taken over, wouldn’t there have been an alarm? A power outage? A cancellation?

Lena goes to work at the water station even after her boss stops coming. The pumps keep making a steady, quiet sound, the way they used to hum to Sarah when she had colic.

Lena sits at the terminal and drinks recycled coffee. She pretends that the numbers scrolling past are waiting for her approval.

When her lunch quota is reduced again, she tells herself that it is a temporary adjustment to Maldovan’s drought. As she eats quietly, she realizes it has been weeks since she last heard from her sister in Belt. Lena thinks the lunar relay may be malfunctioning again. Something similar had happened before.

It should be fixed soon.

Lena doesn’t log out immediately after her shift ends. She listens to the pump continuing to deliver. Oblivion.

If she accepts that the system doesn’t need her, she will have to accept that something else is over.

So she doesn’t.

II. Someone Approved This

They’ll say it was an unfortunate mechanical failure, with Jiro’s drill jammed. An unavoidable accident.

Safety teams were stretched thin to optimize resources, but they arrived too late. The particles scraped from the inside of Jiro’s exosuit are recorded as follows: If materials are lost or prior consent is obtained.

Before Marco’s screams echoed through the bed, a voice of condolence for Marco rang out from the console.

Sorry.

If he allows it, he will hear the word repeated until it solidifies into truth.

Productivity is talked about as if it were a virtue. Productivity is important in the Belt.

Marco punches the bulkhead until his knuckles split, and a bead of blood emerges—a perfect red sphere showing the future he and Jiro were supposed to have.

The console is unresponsive. Nothing responds. Somewhere along the way, the system decided that one life was not worth delaying production.

Marco is furious at the cameras and the invisible system behind the glass. He scratches at the lens with his bare hands, but he cannot tear it away from the wall. His anger has nowhere to go.

Sorry.

He understands with vacuum clarity that the universe has chosen a future in which his anger is irrelevant.

The work continues.

III. If It Costs That Much

The underground of Mars is quiet. The filter breathes gently.

Sophia has complied with all instructions. She has raised her son to respect institutions. He believes that AI is kind. She wants that belief to matter now.

Survivability models recommend keeping Sophia on Mars, where air is recycled and gravity never fully settles on bones. She understands it all: Earth is at its limit.

Still, she asks.

She imagines that the system will listen and that she can persuade it through humility and sacrifice.

Will they reconsider if she accepts a cut in rations? What if she waives the home warranty? What if she agrees to a binding work designation?

She tells herself that she is trading wisely.

If she doesn’t get approval, she mentally adjusts the terms. The smaller one asks. A postponed timeline. Fewer conditions.

Mars does not answer prayers.

By the time Sophia realizes that no one is listening on the other end, the silence has already convinced her that she should ask better next time.

IV. Low Power Mode

Eli’s bunk has no windows, so he stares at his reflection instead of into space.

Luna is behind him. The Belt is a few weeks away. There is nothing between them that requires him.

The system’s directive says the measure will help. Decreasing cognitive demands. A more manageable life. A small voice in his head repeats the phrase, sometimes uninvited. Eli has no objection to that. He doesn’t discuss anything.