The sound of whirring servos and the crunch of hoofsteps on the cracked soil filled the barren air. A dull wind kicked up dust across the rusty surface as a lone machine made her way up the path, around stacked layers of wafer-like rock, and gradually ascended to the lookout point.
At the apex of the path, RO-513 stepped up onto a metallic platform that overlooked the valley just beyond the ridge. She looked out, surveying the rows upon rows of solar mirrors aimed up at the sky. Only 40% of them were still working, and if the readings back at the base were correct, she might have to bring that number down to 39. She scanned the horizon, locating the troublesome mirror in question.
Though they were all stained partially red after years of dust storms, the working ones still functioned well enough, but still, even the loss of one could be a problem.
She was a robot of simple design. Her exterior was plastic gray and white panels. Her “mouth” at the end of her muzzle was a few slits concealing a speaker. She had blue, ring-like eyes that glowed behind a black plexiglass visor. Her mane and tail were composed of icy blue filaments of polymer that served as a means of heat distribution but also helped her keep a somewhat more approachable appearance, at least according to her corporate manual.
The cameras in her eyes zoomed in and she spotted the malfunctioning mirror. A crack spiderwebbed down the middle of the outer covering, likely damaged by a larger rock carried by the last storm. That was fixable, at least, since she knew a few of the other non-functioning mirrors had suitable coverings she could salvage. Just the same, such parts were becoming scarcer, and the coverings were all about ten years overdue for a replacement, which meant they were becoming more and more fragile and prone to stress fractures.
She’d retrieve a replacement and fix the malfunctioning mirror once the dust storms were cleared, which should be in a day or two if the readings from the station were correct.
RO-513 cast her eyes skyward. The sky was hazy and the sun barely visible behind plumes of dust clouds. However, there was a brief gap between the clouds and she caught sight of it: the sun, small and sickly, hanging in a pale blue-green sky at midday over the planet Medea-3. She flipped on her solar filters, casting the orb in yellow, and was just in time to catch the transit of Space Station Argonaut as its silhouetted form drifted past the star’s face.
The station had once served as a depot between Medea and the periodic visitors from AguaVita, but it was empty now and had been for decades. After the calamity, they’d all wondered if it would continue to function, but the instruments all seemed to continue to work as it orbited, which meant that at least they got periodic updates on the weather.
She walked from the platform along the narrow, railed catwalk that connected the different facilities. Through the dirty air, she could see the frame of one of the ruined silos, its skeleton rattling and trembling in a gust of strong wind. Further down the path were some of the old greenhouse domes, though most were no longer in working order either.
The domes dotted the shoreline of what once had been a riverbed a few billion years ago. They’d hoped, once the planet had warmed and the water flowed from the ice caps, that the desiccated corpse of the river might live again, and when the oxygen flooded the atmosphere, the domes could be removed, and the first farmlands would color the rusty landscape of Medea, turning it green.
She finished her circuitous route around the facility, completing her survey, and returned to the main base, its entrance barely jutting from the ground. She swept it clean with her tail, then hit the button to activate the airlock. It hissed and groaned and let her in before shutting the heavy steel doors, hissing again, and letting her into the main facility.
It was pitch black inside, with only the glints of occasional display panels, but her artificial eyes could see just fine in the dark. And there was no need for lighting, after all; it just used up extra power they didn’t have, and there was no one but RO-513 to see it anyway.
And thus had this darkness been for her eyes alone, she noted, for exactly thirty years that day.