The Last Man Standing

Garbage in, garbage out.

The Last Man Standing

Benjamin Trayne

A man’s name is only important insofar as it distinguishes himself from others. Thus Hezekiah’s name was no longer of any real importance, because there were no others, anywhere.

The fact had been spared him at least, although there was that terrible thought flitting about somewhere behind a carefully-constructed mental barricade, in the back of his mind.

Two-hundred and twenty-six million kilometers from Earth, this lone individual, the very last of his kind, gazed across a strangely beautiful, but sterile Martian landscape in evening light. In deepening gloom, the red landscape of Mars was almost blood red. It seemed appropriate.

Fully attired in his climate-controlled pressure suit, Hezekiah stood in total, unrelenting despair. He thought about the planet on which he was standing, about the many graves he had personally shoveled from the stony soil, and about the various reasons for everything that had happened. Then, he considered the stupidity of an actual attempt to terraform a planet.

Really? How could any of them have ever been so arrogant?

To say things had not gone well on Mars would be the mother of all understatement. Grand predictions of their success had been fundamentally flawed. The first priority, to establish a planetary atmosphere, had initially appeared to be actually working, but there were not enough of the much-vaunted “global sensors” in place to show what was actually occurring. Not that it would have mattered...gases and vapors released or generated during vaporization of the subterranean ice sheets were more than sufficient in volume, and were expected to thicken into a substantial atmosphere very quickly, relative to the span of time required to generate and release them. Instead, atmospheric density remained well below anything that might have ever become breathable.

Scientists had failed to consider, of all things, seasonal changes, which were not dissimilar to those on Earth. The surface temperature had not approached the freezing point of nitrogen, however here, closer to the dividing line between atmosphere and space, the temperature dropped far lower during the Martian winter. And of course, atmosphere surrounds a planet, and somewhere on any planet in a solar orbit, there is always winter; when it’s summer in one hemisphere, it’s winter in the other. The intermingling of gases was considered critical, but instead they had precipitated and separated in the upper reaches of the existing Martian atmosphere. When the sun came up, they quickly escaped into space, boiling away as if they had never been there.

So much for starting the greenhouse effect. The ambient temperature of the entire planet would have had to have been elevated artificially, would have had to be provided with a self-renewing ozone layer, and what of the Van Allen radiation belt that helps to protect Earth? What of the Earth’s protective magnetic field? What of the establishment of stable weather systems? So few of the actual requirements had been taken into account and applied to the models, in fact, it was far worse than an ordinary system model failure. It was a fuck-up, one of monumental proportion.

Now, with the most accessible areas of the subterranean ice severely depleted, the planet was less likely than ever to be capable of being morphed into a livable home for human settlers. The gravity of their situation had set in, and the settlers had begun arguing. First it was over whether the fusion generators could be depended upon for the long term, then it was over food, then it was over privacy and personal space. With all equipment functioning properly, no communications had been recently established with Earth, and new fear and foreboding had prevailed. Something was terribly wrong back home. They realized they did not possess the tools or the technology to survive with no support for very long, and there were no indications whatsoever that any support at all, or rescue, for that matter, would be forthcoming.

Within a month of the abject failure of the effort to generate a Martian atmosphere, the first death of a settler had occurred. It was a murder, and it remained unsolved. The event touched off a series of deaths, some of them killings, but most of the others were suicides. Small families grouped together for protection, but the quarters were too close. One family member was lost, then someone from another family would die. And so it went, the entire small colony of fifty-three, all but Hezekiah, gone within a few months.

And of course it was all because of money. Computer models of every sort imaginable had been constructed for this effort. The most advanced computing power of the day had been turned to the task. Some of the older researchers understood that system models, finite element analysis and the like, though very valuable tools, had their limitations. But the younger generation in this era knew nothing else. It was not profitable to fund physical experimentation to prove results before implementation. So they didn't.

There had always been more than simple limitations to systems modeling. Although the immense power of computation was employed, often some or other piece of data was not included. If the inputs are incomplete, so will be the outputs.

Usually the omission was due to ignorance of the full set of conditions that needed to be part of the model. And again the human element came into play. It was difficult to translate non-linear outputs, of which nature is practically, entirely composed. Results that were not desired sometimes were disregarded, whether motivated by a wish for faster profit, to beat a deadline, a rush to complete an educational degree...and who wanted to pay someone to proof the results, when we could simply hang our hat on the data, why, it was right there! The occasional failure of a bridge, the collapse of an elevated walkway filled with people, the temporary default of a data stream that controlled a commuter train. All of these things could be blamed on the error of some individual who must not have done his job. Leave it to the computers. It's cheaper to do it that way, and it's so obviously better. Never mind that if the model indicates failure, one can effectively press a “go” button to move past it.

We can always circle back to the issue.

Or not.

At one point, the only humans left alive were Hezekiah and his closest friend, Aaron. Both were scientists and both had arrived with the equipment in the last vessel to reach Mars. They had walked to the ship, warmed up the bridge, and had broken out a bottle of Jack. Then they discussed their options and watched the stars outside the broad main viewport.

Without maintenance, most of the fusion generators would have to be powered down. They knew they could keep the agricultural pods operational for quite a while, and without other mouths to feed, they could probably maintain themselves and survive for decades, at least.

Aaron had taken a long look at Hezekiah. Then he raised the obvious question that was already on both of their minds. For what purpose should they survive?

Both men thought about the silence from Earth. The telescope they had set up as an observatory would not provide enough resolution to show more, but they had clearly observed a large new feature on the surface of Earth that looked like a meteor strike zone, perhaps an asteroid or a comet. There was no reason to expect a rescue mission to Mars, even if anyone on Earth was still alive.

Hezekiah had decided to make a trip to the lavatory. While walking back toward the bridge of the ship, he’d heard the report of a weapon.

Then he was alone.

Today, here he was on Mars, surveying this Martian landscape. Hezekiah could have chosen many paths for his life. His passion for science had overridden, his desire for knowledge and understanding had brought him here. But there was the heart of a survivalist in him as well, and he finally resolved that no matter what, he would live as long as he could. Even if he was the only human being alive, imagine the things he could learn. The obvious limitations of his situation could not be permitted to bother him. He chose instead to consider the things he did have. He had scientific equipment, a means of recording his activities and observations, the latest in computing power, more food and water available through agriculture and synthesis than he could use in ten lifetimes. Hezekiah, unlike the rest, had not taken the final step from despair into agony. In fact, he suspected, the entire colony might have eventually worked its way through this, had they given it a chance. And if only they hadn’t been so...human.

Hezekiah was the last man standing. If any were worthy, it was he.

The day would eventually come when Hezekiah would pass away, a natural death. The abrasive Martian soil, driven by unimpeded Martian winds, over eons would wear away and disperse everything that had been brought here from planet Earth, including Hezekiah's body.

He realized it. He felt it.

And yet, the irony of what he was about to do did not occur to him. He turned and headed for the comfort of the lab, intent on constructing a predictive system model for his lone existence.

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Adapted from The Final System Failure

Next section: Six Androids...

Copyright 2023 Benjamin Trayne