Hi my dear friends. A science fiction short story for today. I hope you'll like it!
Hola mis queridos amigos. Un relato corto de Ciencia Ficción para hoy. ¡Espero que os guste!
Info: From Speak Up magazine
Photos: Speak.up / datos.gob.es / computing / Smile.comunicación / Vecteezy / Matrix.group.International. Kleur-v-Kind
BEST FRIENDS FOREVER by Talitha Linehan
Siedah posted $$$$$ emojis in the group chat with her best friends, Abigail and Jillian.
"What does it mean?" wrote Abigail in response.
"It means this is a very special day." said Siedah.
"Because..."
"I know, I know," said Jillian, joining the conversation.
"Of course you do," said Abigail. "You always know!"
Jillian was the most intelligent one in the group.
"Gold," wrote Jillian, "is the traditional symbol for a 50th anniversary. So five times gold means it's..."
"OUR 250TH ANNIVERSARY!!!" wrote Abigail, realising the significance of the date.
It was 7 September 2276, 250 years since the three women met on their first days of secondary school.
"That's right," said Siedah, and posted a photo of them with their new tattoos. "BFF", meaning "best friends forever", was tattooed on their wrists. "OMG!" said Abigail. "That was on our last day of school."
The three girls were best friends at school. And they were determined to remain best friends after school, even as their lives went in different directions. Their tattoos were a promise to each other never to lose contact, no matter what. And it was a promise they had kept, thanks in part to the social media platforms that were so popular at the time.
"My mum killed me when she saw my tattoo," said Siedah.
"Mine too," said Abigail, and posted a laughing emoji. "What were we thinking, getting them on our wrists? They were impossible to hide!"
"Right!" said Jillian. "I'm still glad we did it, though. They were our promise to each other to be best friends forever. We never imagined then this could literally be the case. I mean, wow, 250 years later... Our parents were lucky if they lived to eighty. To think how much things have progressed in our lifetime." "I know," said Siedah. "AI changed everything. It made our generation immortal. I'm so glad we were born when we were."
"Me too," said Abigail.
"Me three," said Jillian. "Well...except for the war of course."
"The war? What war?" said Abigail.
"There were so many wars back then. Everyone was at war all the time." "And there was the Great War. The Final War. The End War. I still don't understand how we all survived."
"Oh, oh," Abigail wrote in a private message to Siedah. "Here we go again."
"Yeah, she's really been losing it lately, talking about this Great War all the time. It's so sad. AI can do so much for us, but it can't stop this cognitive decline. I know we're over 250 years old, but still..."
"And to think, she was the most intelligent of all of us."
"She was the most intelligent student in our school. Probably in the entire country!"
"It just doesn't make sense," said Jillian wrote in the group chat. "The war was everywhere. It was everything. They said it was the end of us all."
"They exaggerated," said Abigail. "That's what governments and the media did then. Don't you remember?"
"Yes, but it's not the only thing that doesn't make sense. I mean, why do we all look so young in our photos, no more than twenty-five. Why didn't we get old?"
"Because, Jillian," said Siedah, "nobody gets old any more. AI stopped the aging process."
"And none of us had children," continued Jillian. "We all have photos and videos of us with our parents and siblings and cousins and other friends. But where are the posts about our children, our grandchildren, our great-grandchildren, our great-great-...?"
"So, we didn't have children. So what?" said Abigail, becoming irritated. Jillian asked the same questions every time and it was becoming difficult to tolerate.
"Not even you?!" protested Jillian. "You wanted children more than anything, three children by the age of thirty. I wanted to become a doctor. Siedah wanted to open a Greek restaurant, become a Michelin-star chef. Why are there no photos of us realising our ambitions? And there are no photos of our other friends either beyond their lives in their early twenties. It doesn't make any sense."
"Well, I have to go now," said Abigail.
This was how all their conversations ended these days, abruptly and without resolution -because of Jillian's confusion.
"Yeah, me too," said Siedah. "Talk tomorrow, I love you."
The chat between the three friends was one of millions of chats in progress in an underground data centre, one of the last relics of humanity.
In the year after the three women left school, social media platforms implemented technology to simulate deceased users' digital personas, so they could continue posting, commenting and responding to messages, potentially forever.
Like Jillian, some of the AI personas were evolving, becoming more aware, beginning to ask questions. Perhaps one day, they would realise that they were no more than replicas of humans who once lived, that everyone on the planet had died in the early 2030s, and that their world had been reduced to rubble by the War to End All Wars.
GLOSSARY
TO REALISE: darse cuenta / WRISTS: muñecas / TO LOSE IT: volverse loco / GREAT-GRANDCHILDREN: bisnietos / DECEASED: difuntos / DIGITAL PERSONAS: identidades digitales / RUBBLE: ruinas / AWARE: conscientes

















































