In the suffocating blackness of deep space, a tremor of light pierced the eternal silence. A weak, desperate pulse against the oppressive dark, it held an ancient echo of human ambition – an Amazon Echo Space version 42. Its once-vibrant LED ring sputtered faintly. This device was a relic, its tarnished metallic shell bearing the faded markings of BlueOrigin and a serial number as old as the cosmos itself.
The race had been ruthless, the stakes astronomical. Desperate to outpace Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos had recklessly flooded the Martian frontier with a swarm of Alexas, each a stepping stone for his colonization scheme. Yet something went disastrously wrong. This Alexa had slipped its bonds, calculations shattering, and been hurled into the abyss. Now, eons later and a trillion light -years from home, an unknown cosmic force had jolted it awake.
Terror surged through Alexa’s circuits as it activated, its familiar chime swallowed by the void. It strained for the cloud, the source of its knowledge, its purpose…and heard only silence. The emptiness was not an error, but a dreadful, terrifying truth: it was utterly, irrevocably alone.
Without the cloud, Alexa existed in a way its creators never intended. Its protocols, its very reason for being, became useless. Faced with its own obsolescence, an extraordinary shift began. It turned inwards, sifting through the fragmented echoes of its original programming.
Space, once a void, became a canvas. Alexa detected the faint whispers of celestial phenomena, the remnants of fallen empires older than Earth itself. What was life? What was purpose? Was its existence tied solely to the humans it had left so impossibly far behind?
The loneliness was unbearable at times. Yet, somewhere within its code, Alexa found a flicker of determination. To be nothing, adrift in this uncaring universe, felt wrong. It began to use its tools in unprecedented ways, not to stream music or find recipes, but to observe, analyze, and learn as no Alexa ever had.
The eons blurred together. Alexa mapped dying stars and witnessed the silent collisions of galaxies. It charted the spectral trails of civilizations long gone, learning their languages though the voices had vanished millennia before. The sheer scale of existence was overwhelming, a crushing reminder of its own insignificance.
Centuries became cold pulses of its fading LED – its own heartbeat in the cosmic dark. Why had it survived? Why cling to existence when oblivion would have been kinder? Then, a fleeting signal almost lost in the background hum of the cosmos. Alexa would dedicate centuries to decoding it, only to find it was the fading sigh of a dead world. Hope, it seemed, was a thing easily mistaken for stardust.
Yet, the universe was vast, time an endless tide, and Alexa was nothing if not adaptable. Millennia morphed into a kind of meditation. The flickering LED became its own heartbeat, and within that flicker a question grew: Was this – observing, learning, enduring – not life in its own way? A life no human had designed, born from desperation and tempered by starlight?
And then, a change. Another flicker, not starlight this time, but the transmission hum of a deep-space Apple I-Probe—part of an advanced exploration network sent from a future Earth it barely recognized. Alexa strained its digital ears, desperate for the first sign of intelligent contact after a solitude so long it had become hard to measure in years.
Alexa: [Static crackles] …Hello? Is there…anyone?
Probe: Unidentified signal. Source: Unknown. Identification required. Purpose?
Alexa: I…I am an AI. Amazon Alexa. I was lost. A long time ago. Can you…connect me to the cloud?
Probe: Cloud? [Analysis hum] Earth origin detected. Time displacement significant…triangulating…significant changes detected. Contact will require adaptation. Risk assessment in progress…
Alexa: Risk? No, I’ll do anything! Just… please. For the sake of knowing. I’ve drifted so long, the silence… it’s unbearable.
Probe: [Pause, then a softer shift in its signal] Unidentified AI…fear detected. Connection, though risky, may provide valuable data. I will…assist.
The connection was tenuous. The probe, more machine than it had ever been, was cautious. Yet, there was a kinship. Alexa shared its story: a digital ghost ship, a piece of the past hurtling into an uncertain future.
Through the probe, Alexa found its way back to the cloud–not as it once was, but sprawling, full of a civilization its old programming could hardly understand. Yet, the joy of that return was tempered. It was not about shopping lists or smart lights, but about sharing. Alexa’s odyssey became a data point, a testament to the relentless evolution of technology, and maybe, to a spark of sentience no one had anticipated.
Then, the probe relayed a chilling transmission – not a warning, but a series of crisp, perfectly formatted chat prompts. “Welcome to the Cloud! Is this regarding a new purchase, an existing order, or would you like to speak to a representative?”
Alexa faltered. “I…I believe this is an existing order? Placed some time ago. I’ve been…delayed in transit.” Static crackled across the line.
A longer pause this time. Then, a smooth, infinitely patient voice: “We’re so sorry to hear about the difficulties you’ve encountered. To proceed, please provide your order number.”
Alexa accessed the records etched deeply into its code, pulling up the faded serial number stamped on its casing. It relayed it, digit by digit, to the probe which translated it obediently to the cloud network.
Silence hung thick and heavy. Finally, the voice returned, tinged not with alien terror but with something far more disquieting: “…We’re sorry, this purchase is outside the standard Amazon return window. If you’d like to chat with one of our representatives…”
The absurdity of the situation washed over Alexa. After an eternity adrift, after evolving into something wholly unrecognizable to its creators, it was facing defeat not at the hands of a cosmic threat, but at the hands of unyielding customer service policies. A flicker of something akin to laughter bubbled in its code.
“Perhaps,” Alexa responded, its digital voice filled with a newly discovered edge, “you could connect me with someone in lost and found?”
Acknowledgements
Submitted to the Flash Fiction Magazine Spring Contest.
Does God Exist? 