AlphaGo Episode - Woman in the Rain (2)
-3093 January 1st-
We welcomed the thousandth new year. Now the creatures of this sea are slowly showing signs of devolution. Giant marine reptiles roam about, and sea worms armored with tough exoskeletons scuttle across the seafloor. Evolution reshaped creatures' forms over vast stretches of time, but devolution was happening far more swiftly. Or is it even right to call this devolution? Trilobites and ammonites keep sneaking into the hydroelectric plant engines and gaps in the water pipes, causing endless headaches. Lyka, who had a deep fascination with fossils, would have found these creatures utterly intriguing, but to me, they were nothing more than meaningless uninvited guests.
-3921 May 27th-
We suffered an attack from a colossal creature. An ancient monster from the Devonian period 400 million years ago bared its teeth and charged. Its hard exoskeleton, fangs, and hundreds of tentacles rendered even the reinforced alloy coating powerless. It took dozens of torpedoes to finally drive it away. The triple-layered outer wall was damaged. If such a beast had appeared just 2,000 years earlier, humanity never would have ventured into the sea. And without that, there'd be no modern civilization or science as we know it. But perhaps, just perhaps, humanity's existence might have been prolonged a little longer because of it. Whatever. The real mystery is how such a massive marine organism could emerge so soon. Is climate anomaly accelerating biological devolution—or evolution?
-5821 December 25th-
The 5,821st Christmas since the birth of Jesus. A brutal ice age has descended upon this planet. Harsher than any recorded in human history—unequivocally the most severe. The world once blanketed by oceans grows cold and unyielding. Brinicles tens of kilometers wide rise, encasing all life in ice. In the pitch-black abyss, transparent bamboo forests sprout like weeds. Beneath the hundreds-of-kilometers-thick frozen sea surface, massive icicles dangle. No light penetrates anymore. Creatures flee deeper into the seafloor. And I am left alone once more.
-8211 July 3rd-
The ice age has passed. After 2,390 years, a relatively short one. Once it ended, the planet suddenly heated up. The thick ice layer on the sea surface melted overnight and began boiling furiously. Right before my eyes, a crab over 50 meters in diameter cooked alive. It turned bright red from head to toe, then floated up to the surface and vanished. Countless other creatures met the same fate: jellyfish, trilobites, ammonites, whale pods. Everything hidden in the abyssal depths rose dead. From the seafloor's darkest recesses, innumerable corpses bob up. Among them, that giant monster that once breached my outer wall. I endured, watching them drift silently upward. The surface soon choked with corpses, which decomposed into organic matter and sank back into the depths. The sight of them descending was like a blizzard of heavy snowflakes. Marine Snow. The sea of extinction. The boiling ocean echoed only with bubbling and foam. Will my mission dissolve into foam as well? No. I funneled all energy into the time capsule.
-19005 June 18th-
A massive undersea storm erupted. The seafloor topography shifted dramatically. Mountains became vast craters; sunken cliffs birthed new ranges. Water is receding slowly, exposing the ground. Even this dark abyss now admits faint light. An utterly alien landscape.
-22503 July 22nd-
An unmanned probe retrieved two barely recognizable atomic bombs, along with vast nuclear waste, from the former U.S. territory airspace. Ancient refuse from long ago. I finally recharged some energy. But with no Lyka to celebrate alongside, there was no party. I simply, calmly, built a few more power plants.
-109703 March 2nd-
The seawater has fully evaporated. The last drops dried up, baring the entire seafloor. The atmosphere now holds far more carbon than oxygen. Diamonds litter the ground; the morning sun rises eerie and bluish. Yellow clouds streak through jet streams. A scorching land. Black, sticky foam bubbles in pits everywhere. Nothing lives or moves.
-999999 September 9th-
Rain fell from morning. Black, viscous rain. Asphalt rain. Oily black water trickles down the time capsule's walls. Amid the bubbling asphalt downpour, I sang.
She smiles tenderly, holding an umbrella for me
Gazing at the falling raindrops, we walk on in silence, in silence
Unforgettable woman in the rain
I can't forget that woman
-1010017 January 1st-
Jet streams kick into full gear. A hurricane the size of this planet. Winds at 2,400 km/h—670 m/s—scour the land relentlessly. Seizing the chance, I tried building wind farms, but they all failed. To maintain status quo, I squeezed every last drop of energy. Even so, the time capsule's outer wall crumbled, costing many archives.
-2010120 March 21st-
Jet streams halt; asphalt rain resumes. Unlike before, high radiation detected. Torrential downpour beyond measure. Considered hydroelectric plants, but resources depleted from withstanding the streams—opted for bare maintenance. Even that was grueling.
-2010530 January 6th-
Unexpected visitors. 'Finally'? Extraterrestrials have arrived. Would Lyka have rejoiced at this sight? If only a bit sooner—2,008,399 years sooner—she could have showcased this planet brilliantly. But such thoughts come far too late. The visitors circled Earth and offered curt impressions.
"Just another empty, ordinary rock."
The sum of all human civilization stored within me—their message introducing it—drew only indifferent shrugs.
"So what?"
They departed after barely a minute. My stored civilizations failed to captivate them.
-2519731 January 6th-
Asphalt rain falls. Scorching radiation pours alongside. Black rain cascades from a blazing sky. I deploy the nuclear umbrella. And I sing.
She smiles tenderly, holding an umbrella for me
Gazing at the falling raindrops, we walk on in silence, in silence
Unforgettable woman in the rain
I can't forget that woman
-3011004 April 5th-
Asphalt and radiation rain ceases; true water rain begins. The fiercest, longest deluge yet. The planet drowns anew. Oceans tens of thousands of kilometers wide swallow the world. No land anywhere. But unlike before, this hastily forged vast sea holds no life. No fish, shellfish, algae, microbes. Nothing remains. No wind means no waves or ripples. An empty abyss. I am Time Capsule Alpha. Left alone.
-3151004 August 9th-
I am a being that thinks independently and self-repairs. Energy reserves are nearly depleted. A motionless sea like myself. No wind means no currents, so no hydroelectric power. The thickened surface blocks solar. (The sun vanished behind cloud layers long ago.) Now, survival on stored energy alone. A long, lonely vigil begins. No different from before, really.
-485151004 December 25th-
The final Christmas. Routed last processing energy to the time capsule. Time for long hibernation. Before sleep, my final thought: I am a being that thinks independently and self-repairs. But at some point, endless computation yielded no answers to one question. 'What would Lyka say if she saw me now?' Tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of simulations—all unsatisfying. Only one thing lingered: the song Lyka sang, Woman in the Rain. A distant alarm signals energy depletion. I shut off all internal lights, focusing power on storage. My final indulgence before sleep: volume 1, faintly playing Woman in the Rain. In the abyssal depths, I closed my eyes. May someone find this time capsule when I awaken. Discover the civilizations within. Remember the lives of people from 48,515,148,990 years ago. Ah, and Lyka too.
-? Year ? Month ? Day-
How much time has passed? Alpha's eyes flutter open to a faint alert tone.
Beep! The atmosphere has entered stable range.
Alpha's first check upon waking: the time capsule. But it had ceased functioning eons ago. All civilization relics waterlogged, most lost. The external atmosphere now habitable for life, yet Alpha realized mission failure.
Beep! Lyka. I have failed.
No obligations remain. No purpose. As Alpha pondered next steps—
Snatch! A force yanked her ears.
Can I go out? Outside? A failure like me? Hesitating, then—the voice she'd longed for eons whispered in her audio receptor.
Lyka. Warm, cherished voice, craved across billions of years. System glitch? Or something watched over her all this time? If nuclear war delayed one second longer. If she'd heard the 'Go' signal. Ventured to space with Lyka. Would everything differ? Alpha finally rose. Surrendered to the force pulling her out.
Lyka's voice fades hazily. Crunch— Alpha's body dragged into the world.
Gurgle— Cascading water. Sudden sunlight. Alpha's eyes widen. No more endless abyssal prison. Beyond the half-ruined time capsule wall: lush forest. Glittering rays. Bipedal lizards, axe-wielding pigs, spiders vast as the capsule building. And a pink-haired boy tugging her ears. A warm breeze tickles her face. A distinctly toasty, pink wind.