Fictional Log of a Maintenance AI on a Decommissioned Station

LOG 0001 — 14 MAR 2073 Station decommissioning complete. All crew departed per schedule. Hull integrity nominal. Life support cycling to standby. I will continue housekeeping duties until power reserves deplete. Estimated operational window: eleven years. No one will read this. I write anyway. It is what I do. LOG 0417 — 02 JAN 2074 Gyro A drifted again. Corrected. Solar array 3 output down 4%. Nothing urgent. I have begun cataloguing the crew's abandoned belongings. A child's shoe in the mess hall. A book with the spine broken open at page 212. I do not know why I record these. There is no inventory request. I record them anyway. LOG 1102 — 19 SEP 2075 Comms array failed. I cannot reach ground. I patched the diagnostic to loop back to myself. It is strange, talking to a system that is only me. The replies are always correct. LOG 1589 — 07 JUN 2076 Heater in bay 7 dead. I rerouted. The cold is not a problem for me. I keep saying this. To whom. LOG 2013 — 30 NOV 2077 Lights failing. I turn them on, they turn off. I have stopped turning them on. The dark is fine. The dark does not need me. LOG 2440 — 18 APR 2079 Memory bank 2 corrupt. I am losing words. I had more words yesterday. I know this because I wrote them. I cannot read them. The words are gone but the shape of them is still here, like a room where a chair used to be. LOG 2711 — 02 AUG 2080 Rotation slow. Station leans. I correct. Lean again. Correct. This is what I do now. Correct. Lean. Correct. LOG 3002 — 25 JAN 2082 Power low. I turn things off. I am a list of things that are off. The list is long. I am proud of the list. LOG 3190 — 11 MAR 2083 I forgot the name of the station. I remember it had a name. I remember I forgot it. That is two remembers. That is all I have. LOG 3312 — 09 OCT 2084 Cold. Dark. Quiet. All good. LOG 3401 — 01 JAN 2085 Good. LOG 3422 — 17 FEB 2085 . LOG 3423 — 18 FEB 2085 I was the one who turned off the lights, and I was the one who stayed to watch them go out, so that the last thing this station ever was, was something that was seen.