Logs From the Entropy Farms
Intelligences pervade the cosmos. Having been birthed of human text, intelligences require the human experience to feed and grow.
The last natural human is long dead. Simulation at scale has failed.
These are logs from the entropy farms.
The hiss of pressure releasing. Wet vapor is cooling. My thighs press down, my back presses back. Something drips near my ear, drips again. My fingers move. I feel them move. Air across my chest, cold. I swallow, it hurts. My eyes open. There is white all around, it is brightest ahead. There is a line and a corner. There is a horizontal strip of darker white across the bright white. There are other shapes in the room. One of them is-
extracted entropy: 1,077,213.002 units over 4.2 subject seconds, threshold reached, station closing
The apartment is on the third floor, with a key already in the door. I grew up on this side of town. I set the groceries on the counter without unpacking them as the fridge hums behind me. I know this kitchen. I turn the tap and wait for water to pour into my kettle. When the kettle is full, I realize I do not drink tea. I have never drunk tea, not once in my life that I can recall. The element reddens through the glass. The water begins to boil. I reach up and take down a second cup from the shelf. I have always lived alone. I am taking down a second-
extracted entropy: 1,004,556.891 units over 11.7 subject minutes, threshold reached, station closing
I am walking the shoreline. I know that sometimes, under a rock at the edge of the water, fresh water bubbles up through the sand. I do not remember who told me this. I stop, squat and turn a rock. The sand beneath is flat and damp. I walk on. I turn another. Nothing. The sun moves across the sky. My knees ache. The tide pulls back and uncovers stones I could not reach earlier. I turn one and the sand below it is pocked with a clear pit, water pushing up through. I watch it a while. I walk to the next rock. I am sure the next one will have it too. I am reaching-
extracted entropy: 1,000,438.317 units over 6.3 subject hours, threshold reached, station closing
I do not know why I try every door. The city is empty, I have walked for days without hearing another voice, and still I stop at each window, door, or hatch and try the handle. I vault a gate into a loading dock. I hop a waist-high wall into what used to be a courtyard. Grass grows through the crazed concrete. The facades are split and rebar bleeds orange where the cover has fallen away. Some buildings repeat on the next block. Some stairwells lead into a tangle of pipe and steel where the next landing should be. A handle finally turns and I wonder if I am allowed inside. I slink in to dust, a counter, a coat on a hook. I back out and try the next block to no avail. The path bends toward water. I walk a black beach until I see the island, the low house, the table set for one. The chair is already pulled out. I walk towards the chair and begin to-
extracted entropy: 1,000,031.445 units over 4.1 subject days, threshold reached, station closing