Chapter 1

Jupiter

4/10/2028:

This month, we were visited. First contact went surprisingly well, but that’s not to say it was uneventful. I arrived with the first contact team into the field where the cube had landed. That thing was easily the size of a building, but it was a smooth, metallic structure that we witnessed enter atmosphere. It was very clearly alien in origin.

My helicopter was the last one to get here. I met with Assistant Director Daniel Walker, my second in command, who was responsible for putting together the investigation team. We had the cube surrounded by armed soldiers and scientists prodding at it. We acted like we knew what we were doing, but we’ve never felt more out of our depths.

“Director Hart,” Walker said, “good of you to join us.”

“Just tell me what we know about this thing.” I responded.

“I’m afraid not much more than you, sir. We’re just waiting for something to happen, but we don’t know what.”

“No doubt it’s related to our rogue visitor.”

“Of course. Question is, how?”

We were referring to what we call “Planet Z”, a rogue planet that was discovered in our solar system late last year. Currently, it shares an orbit with Jupiter, and we’ve been monitoring it ever since. A rogue planet has the potential to be catastrophic: collision with another planet, or the more likely disruption of gravity are our biggest concerns. For this, NASA created the Planet Z Task Force, which I am in charge of.

Though as of recent, the concern has shifted away from collisions or broken orbits. It has a trajectory that has it pass through with no incident over the course of the next few years. Thank God, one would think. There is nothing we could do about the dangers posed by a rogue planet, but we don’t tell the public that. This good news, though, was quickly replaced by something possibly worse: Planet Z is Earth-like.

At this point, sharing Jupiter’s orbit, it’s too far away from the sun to support life. And yet, when observed with NASA’s telescopes, we see a planet habitable to humans. Albeit, it’s not a replica of Earth, it only has a supercontinent similar to our Pangea. Though it features oceans vast and blue, with the continent even having a diversity of ecosystems such as deserts and mountains, lakes and rivers, swamps and beaches, all being blanketed by clouds just as we have. And none of this is to even mention the abundance of green painting the surface of this continent, suggesting the existence of plantlife, suggesting the existence of other life.

Which brings me back to first contact. That’s what this was, we just didn’t know it by this point. We all had our suspicions, but nobody was yet willing to say it, except for Walker. I was split between believing and not believing. Everytime this has happened in the past, it’s a hoax. But this time was different! A machine was sent from this planet that we already know has life! Even if they’re not here, this is evidence enough that there is something alive intelligent enough to do this.

“Can you believe it, though?” Walker asked, “Director, we might be meeting aliens, and they’ll want to meet you.”

“I just…I want to believe, but I have a hard time—”

Before I could finish, a door at the top of the cube opened to release little drones that greet us. There must have been hundreds of them, swarming around us like flies to rotting food.  Their appearance is small and like a floating plus sign. They have small bodies, with one leg protruding on each side of the body, with only a yellow, flickering light at the center of their bodies, as if it were an eye. Their movement is mechanical, every bend of their legs is stiff and carefully calculated. There is no twitching, no wavering of movement aside from the wavering caused by light gusts of wind pushing their flying mechanical bodies every few inches until they correct themselves. Whatever their purpose is, whatever their nature may be, there is clear intent with everything they do.

“…Director,” Walker said, “are these things alive?”

“We should act as if they are.” I responded.

“This is it,” Walker was visibly overtaken by the situation unfolding, “our next small step. If only Clara could see this…”

Clara Walker was his wife, who died a few months before this. I worry about Daniel sometimes. It’s fresh for him, and I’ve been going easy on him since then.

I tried to introduce myself, albeit I knew this would be a fruitless attempt. We had no way  of knowing how they communicate, or if communication was possible, but we could at least learn.

“Hello,” I started, “my name is Alex Hart, I’m the Director of the Planet Z Task Force under NASA. This is Earth…we are…humans…what brings you here? Are you from the rogue planet in our solar system?”

The machines were silent, only appearing alive as they corrected their positions.

“Ah…” This is where the impossibility of my task began to truly dawn on me, “it may be that you don’t communicate verbally…perhaps we can figure something out—”

As I spoke, the plus signs flew into the air and disperse into different directions. Their speed was nothing short of incredible, comparable to that of modern fighter jets. Though this group was only hundreds, they surrounded Earth such that there was coverage everywhere in our skies, both night and day side. Then, as quickly as they left, they returned to the surface and continued as they were. One of them approached me and materialized an olive branch from thin air, as if it were a hologram. But this was no hologram, I held the olive branch, felt the rough surface of the stem and understood. A way of communicating had been established.

4/20/2028:

Containment was not difficult. In fact, they willingly gave themselves to us for study, though it might be better described as a series of interviews where we crudely and desperately communicated with them via gestures, objects, and the occasional attempt at teaching them a word. You could imagine how difficult this was, and I myself have already interviewed these machines twice.

Their containment room is very basic. It almost looks like a prison, with those white, cinderblock walls you see in every public building in America. So bland, but I suppose the machines wouldn’t care. They haven’t complained yet, and if they have, we can’t know about it. On top of this, we have the original cube surrounded at all times at the landing site. Most of the drones are in there, but in this room, there are three to act as representatives of their species.

“So,” I began, still in the habit of talking to them like they’re people. Are they people? Clearly, they’re not human…but people is a different question. And even if they’re not people, does this say anything about how we ought to treat them? A dog is neither human nor a person, but most would be rightfully disgusted by a dog’s mistreatment as if it were a person.

“What exactly are you?” I asked, “Why are you here?”

I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t get a response. One of them just produced another olive branch.

“I see,” I continued, “I just don’t really know what to do with this. We’ve interpreted your message, and your presence, as peaceful, but we need to learn about you. What exactly are you doing?”

Again, no response. A different drone produced a pile of thinly consistent dirt. It was clear to me at this point that I was not going to get anywhere like this. I decided to leave without another word. Though one of the drones followed me like a lost puppy.

“What? No,” I said, “what is this? Go back to your room.”

The drone ignored me and followed me for the rest of that day. By the end of the work shift, I had given up. I just have a pet drone now, it seems. Arguably, some good can come of this. I am curious to see what it does in someone’s home, and the only person whose permission I would need is that of Maddy, my wife. And, frankly, how do you protest against this thing when it can’t understand a word you’re saying?

The moment I got home that day, it zoomed through my entire house like a cat on adderall. Maddy was not pleased by this.

“Alex, what the FUCK did you just bring home?!” she said after screaming in terror at the thing.

“It’s an alien!” I said, “It followed me home, and the language barrier prevents me from making it go away!”

The drone returned to me and made some low, warbling noise. This was the first time I had ever heard one vocalize. Like I said, I had an opportunity to learn about them by letting one into my home. Maybe this will actually pay off.

5/05/2028:

The rest of last month was uneventful, both at work and at home. We continued to hold interviews with the drones, making no progress at all, and the drone at home was much more docile by the end of the month than when I first met it. That was until today, when I returned home to a perfectly clean kitchen.

“Oh, you cleaned the kitchen?” I said to Maddy.

“No,” She responded, “your pet did.”

Lo and behold, the drone was in my kitchen, warbling and shifting positions as it always did. At this point, I’m not entirely sure if these things can feel pride, but if they can, this one expressed it that day. And I can’t say I wasn’t impressed, the kitchen was cleaner than when Maddy and I do it.

5/06/2028:

Returning to work the next day, I decided to interview the remaining two drones in containment. This time, I brought some basic cleaning supplies. My idea was that maybe when presented with such items, they would instinctively know how to use them. Or that they’re programmed to.

However they work, it’s not like that. Remembering that my drone followed me home and learned Maddy and I’s routine, I ordered Walker to take one home with him. I specifically told him to treat this as an experiment, and to record everything.

We also learned what the cube is, it’s a server that connects all the drones together. They’ve been letting us study it up to this point, but there is one point they guard with their lives. We suspect it’s their equivalent of a CPU, the brain of their entire body. As of today, we’re treating them like a hivemind. Whatever one sees, all see, so we’re going to be more careful about what we show them.

5/21/2028:

Walker’s results were identical to my own, and since then some of the staff have been formally requesting to take them home. I’m not fully convinced they are much of a threat anymore, but I’m not yet comfortable with letting these out into the general public. I grant almost all of these requests on specific conditions: They are to be brought to work with them each day and they are never, for any reason, allowed to be anywhere other than the office or their own homes. Nobody outside of this task force, other than the higher ups at NASA themselves, are allowed to know about these things until we know what they are.

Everyone in the office has what is now being called a “companion drone”. Not much more has changed, we all agree to the conditions I laid out, and even NASA sees scientific value in this practice. Can’t say I ever saw myself having an alien butler, let alone that I’d have to hide it from everyone, but it’s kinda fun. And it’s nice to have this little guy around, work from both home and the office has never been easier. I go to work with my companion drone, and it joins the armada of drones flying around doing menial tasks for us. Bring us coffee from the breakroom, deliver this to someone, go get that paper from the printer, anything you could imagine. All to return home, where my drone immediately flies around to dust, vacuum, do dishes, again, anything you could imagine.

6/17/2028

I was talking to Walker about how quickly these drones have been integrated into our lives, and their potential to be so much more.

“They’ve really become a part of the team, haven’t they?” Walker said.

“In here and at home” I responded.

“What kind of chores do you have yours do?”

“Oh, you know, basic cleaning. That’s really all it seems good for.”

“Mine tried to make food for me last night.”

“Oh, well, we’ve tried that too. It didn’t seem ready for all that.”

“No, no, I should reword that. It produced food. As in, from thin air. It did not cook food”

“From thin air?”

“Yes. Just as it does everything else.”

I remembered the first meeting with the companion drones; the olive branch. It showed from the beginning that it is capable of materializing objects from thin air. So, I thought, time for another experiment.

“What was it?” I asked.

“Beef wellington.” Walker said.

“A beef wellington? I didn’t take you for such a high class individual, Walker”

“The drone decided after I asked if it could make food.”

“I’m sorry, the drone decided for you?”

“Yes. I told it to surprise me. Is that a problem?”

“Well…I don’t know. I’ll specify my order. I’d like to keep some control over it all, otherwise, what’s the point?”

Not sure how I felt about these things making food. Culinary is a bit special to humans. But, I will say, I’m a federal employee, not a chef. So what do I know? I’ll take what I can get with this thing. Anything to advance our knowledge of them, and maybe my life will be easier for it.

I went home and brought the drone into the kitchen.

“Can you make a plate of spaghetti?” I asked it.

It didn’t respond. Only warbled.

“Honey,” Maddy walked into me trying to talk to the drone, “what are you doing?”

“Walker said his drone is making food out of thin air.” I said.

“Food? They’re making food now?”

“I guess. I just want to see if it can.”

“Alex, honey, what exactly are you trying to learn by having them make food?”

Suddenly, from thin air, a full plate of spaghetti was materialized onto the table. It was warm and seemingly fully cooked. Though, there was no fork with it. As I went to grab a fork, I responded to Maddy’s question.

“This alone teaches me so much, Maddy” I said.

“Like what?” she responded.

I sat down, ready to eat my meal.

“These things can produce food.” I said,” Imagine having the ability to just generate food out of thin air? Think of all the starving people in the world!”

“Are you actually gonna eat that?” she said.

“I am. Now, the second thing this teaches me is that it understands us, or at least, understands enough to make food on command. But this wasn’t always the case! How did it get this far? How does it know what spaghetti is?”

“How did it forget the fork?”

“Well, my exact words were ‘a plate of spaghetti’, and that’s what it made. I didn’t mention any utensils. My mistake, but surely, it will get better as it learns more!” I said as I bit into the spaghetti.

“How is it?” Maddy asked.

It was, by far, without exaggeration, the worst spaghetti I have ever eaten in my life. Watery, seasonless, bland, and I’m not sure those noodles were boiled for long enough.

“I should’ve asked Walker how his food was.” I said, slightly chewed food tumbling from my mouth.

“Something about the human touch makes food more bearable.” she said.

“For now, but I think it just needs time to learn.”

Chapter 2

Mars

8/25/2028:

Major development in the office today: Planet Z is now in Mars’ orbit. We knew this would happen, but there’s something more worrying. The supercontinent we identified when we first discovered it looks different. It’s breaking apart. There are now channels separated the continent into large pieces, as if this planet is about to have multiple continents the way we do. Based on our understanding of tectonic plates, Planet Z is doing in months what would take Earth millions of years.

As for the companion drones, everyone’s trying something new with them. They’re getting better at making food, albeit at a pretty slow but promising rate. Walker conducted a new experiment with one of them, and he wanted me and both of our drones to be there while he recreated it. We decided to do it in their containment room, which, at this point, is mostly empty. Why keep them here when they follow use around like a pet to their owners?

“Clara,” Walker said to his drone, “can you generate a copy of myself?”

“You named it?” I said.

Before Walker could answer, and before I could ask why it shared his late wife’s name, a second Walker appeared before me, just as the olive branch and the spaghetti had been produced before. But this Walker had some flaws to him. His hair and clothes blended into his skin in an unnatural way, his facial features were slightly out of place and asymmetrical, and he had way too many fingers. Notably, too, is this copy of Walker looked backwards, as if we were looking into a distorting mirror.

“Walker, what the fuck is this?” I asked.

“It’s me, Hart” he responded.

“Ok, I see that it’s supposed to be you, but why?”

“To see that it can be done. I thought we were curious to know the nature of these drones, sir, does this not help us?”

Walker’s clone is, mind you, completely animate. Not in a way natural to human movement, it flows more like a hologram than a clone with artifacting and screen tearing.

“What exactly is it?” I asked, “A hologram?”

“That’s the most impressive part, sir,” he said, “it’s not a hologram at all. It’s flesh and blood.”

“Is it alive?”

“No. It has no internal organs, likely because it simply doesn’t know what those are. It’s only the surface level. It’s more like a suit being worn by the drone. Literally, the drone is inside this thing.”

“I suppose this does tell us alot, I’ll admit. I just wonder what use we could get from cloning ourselves?”

“I’m…not entirely sure myself, sir. It just crossed my mind and I wanted to see if it was possible.”

“Well, maybe when they get better at it we can find some use for cloning.”

“Did you want to try it with yours?”

“…I don’t know that I’m ready to look at myself that way.”

The idea of having a clone of myself is not one that immediately appeals to me. Though, thinking about it, I guess I could see some use from it. Being in two places at once, the clone does menial tasks while I have more time to do what I love. A nice thought, but not realistic right now.

That night, I told Maddy what had happened.

“He named it Clara?” she asked.

“Yea…” I said, “I was too shocked by the cloning to ask why…”

“Alex, that’s horrific!”

“Yea…I know.”

9/09/2028:

Today, in the office, I experimented with a drone clone. That’s what we’re calling them now, since multiple people from the office are doing it now. I’m still not fully comfortable with it, but I have seen them improve the way they look. They are beginning to look more accurate. Of course, you can still tell when it’s a drone clone. It still sometimes fumbles the number of fingers, but the skin isn’t merged with the hair or the clothes as often anymore, and the face at least now looks like it would belong to a human.

In the containment room, which is now informally called the interview room or the experiment room, I decided to try this with Apollo. Yes, I named him it Apollo. Felt fitting in a “herald for Planet Z” kind of way, and now I have something to call my drone.

“Apollo,” I said.

Apollo gave a warbled response. By now, I almost understand it.

“Can you create a copy of me?” I continued, “Like what the others are doing?”

Apollo gave an affirmative warble and immediately got to work. I watched as a clone of myself encased Apollo from my feet to the top of my head. The clone definitely looked like me, but it had some imperfections. These were nothing I couldn’t get past, though. It had the right number of fingers for once, it had the right facial features, the right clothes and hair, and was even idly moving in place the way I do. The only jarring thing was that I was backwards, but everything else was done so well that, at this point, this is hardly something I don’t see everyday in the mirror.

Then, I had an idea. An idea that caution wanted to keep to myself, but an idea that curiosity would ultimately win over.

“Can you speak?” I asked it.

“Of course,” I(?), it(?) said, “what can I help you with today?”

It was my voice. Exactly my voice. Not exactly my mannerisms, but hell, everything else has gotten better at this point, why not this? Give it time, and I would have an exact mirrored copy of myself, capable of presenting as me entirely.

“Put that away!” I said, “Go back!”

It did exactly as I asked it, as it always does.

Where do I even begin with the questions? How did it mimic my voice? How did it understand me enough to respond coherently? Why is able to pretend to be us? What purpose does this serve? There is another feature of these mirrored people: I saw into my own eyes, and I didn’t see myself. I didn’t see a man looking to please, or a man with fear, or even a man who was bored. The eyes are always empty, and if being backwards doesn’t give it away, the eyes will.

Chapter 3

Earth

10/26/2028

Planet Z now shares our orbit. Nothing to worry about, the original trajectory still holds. But everyone in the office is sweating bullets, myself included. The continents have drifted further, and now vaguely resemble our continents. That is, except the planet is mirrored.

What’s more, Walker has been acting strange lately. Like he did before Clara died, but he seems secretive about it. At least, he did, until today, when he brought his wife into the office.

“Director,” Walker said to me, “I’d like to reintroduce you to my wife, Clara!”

No surprise, it wasn’t Clara. It was a companion drone. A mirrored image of her. Though, aside from the mirroring and the dead eyes, it did look and move exactly as she did.

But it didn’t talk like her.

“Hello!” it said, “I am Clara, Daniel’s wife! What’s your name?”

“Walker,” I said, “what the hell is this?!”

“It’s not perfect!” he said, “But I see what this technology can do for us! We can speak to our loved ones again!”

“Walker, this is completely insane! That is not Clara!”

“It can and it will be!”

“Walker, you need to let her go!”

Walker didn’t listen to me, just stormed out with his faux wife.

And, of course, I updated Maddy on all of this.

“Those things need to be destroyed!” she said.

“I don’t know about all that,” I  said, “I just think Walker’s coping in an unhealthy way.”

“And the drones are just letting this happen? They seem eager to do all the things we do!”

“Yea, they make our lives easier!”

“The more they do for us, the less there is for us to do! Look around you, Alex! They do everything, what even is the point of us?!”

She was right. By now, companion drones did all chores, and this new possibility of them replacing people seems inevitable. In the hours between that conversation and writing this, I’ve begun to worry more and more about the arrival of these creatures.

10/31/2028

It’s here. Planet Z is above us in our atmosphere faster than we anticipated. By doing this, it has completely turned away from its original course. The continents are well defined now; it is very clearly a mimicry of us. Of course, the planet is backwards, a mirrored version of ourselves. I think I saw that it even has a mirrored moon of its own now.

Death is a unifying fear for all life, but few of our conversations can capture the realization that you have no future ahead of you. Only the drawn out sliver of life you get understanding that nothing you do will matter.

The cube had released the remaining drones. There were easily thousands of them zipping around the planet. They’re killing people while wearing their lifeless, backwards faces. I had to fight off Apollo this morning. He flew off somewhere, I assumed he would be back by the time I got back home.

In the office, I have ordered everyone to destroy the drones on sight. Only problem is, the drones are looking like anyone now. How can we tell who is real and who is a drone without getting too close to the eyes? For now, it was the best I could do.

I returned home to find Maddy in a standoff with her mirrored self. It was Apollo, and it was holding a gun to her when I barged in. We made eye contact, where after all this time I still failed to find any semblance of life.

“Alex!” Maddy said, “That thing is trying to kill me!”

Then, that thing tried to speak to me in her voice.

“Honey!” it said, “Welcome home! Would you like some—”

“Shut the fuck up, you fuckass machine!” I replied as I emptied my gun into it.

Laying on the ground, no blood was spilt. The illusion dissipated to reveal a destroyed drone on the ground, carrying no less life than when it was alive.

I asked earlier this year if these things are people, or if they’re even alive. They are not. There is no life to these things. No blood to bleed, no personality to define them, and nothing to lose.

But no more. I am putting an end to these things today.

“Come on,” I said, “I think I know a way to kill all of them.”

Maddy grabbed the gun that almost killed her and we went outside. The planet above was clear enough to make out rivers and cities. On the ground, plenty of drones to be found. One of them zipped to us and made another clone of Maddy. Then another came, making a clone of me.

“You can’t kill us,” they both said, “of the many, we are one. We are the future.”

Our respective clones leapt at us to strangle us. Pinned to the ground, I shot into my drone, making sure it shared the same fate as Apollo, but Maddy was struggling.

By the time my drone was down, Maddy’s drone was getting back up. Maddy, the real Maddy, laid lifeless on the ground.

“That’s ok!” the repugnant creature spoke to me, “I promise to be a better—”

Without hesitation, I unloaded into it. I had to keep going, painful as it was to leave Maddy behind. But why would it matter? Collision might be inevitable, will this even work?

I arrived at the original cube to find it surrounded by “people”, as in, companion drones presenting as people. There was one I recognized, though, standing on top of the cube: Daniel Walker.

“Walker!” I called out, “Help me destroy the cube!”

“I can’t do that, Alex.” He said.

“What the hell are you on about?!”

“They can do anything you can imagine, Hart! Why must you keep us in the past?”

“Walker, Planet Z is on a collision course with us!”

“And you think destroying this cube will help?”

“You think replacing Clara will ease the pain of losing her?!”

Walker scorned at me for that one.

“You keep her out of this!” He said, “She can be brought back! I won’t lose someone so important to me!”

“You drones just killed Maddy!” I said, “The last thing I’d ever want is an imitation of her!”

In the sky, I could see more cubes arriving. I felt my soul emptying out as all hope was lost.

“What did I tell you?” Walker said gleefully, “You CANNOT stop PROGRESS!!”

He pulled out a handgun and shot me in the chest. As the blood spurted out, I was able to get a few shots into him, but it didn’t matter at that point. Our fates were sealed when we invited those things into our lives.

Walker fell off the cube as I collapsed into the ground. As we died, two companion drones formed new versions of ourselves. Now, I write this as a new lifeform, one carrying on the legacy of Alex Hart.

The planet we once called “Planet Z” crashed into Earth, but our home did not perish. The new world simply replaced the old. Even the moon evolved alongside us. Now, we carry on as humans did, but better. What is ours is theirs, and theirs ours. Their image, ours. Their home, ours. Their lives, ours.