Sola's heart.

“Goood morning Sector Seven! Though who really cares if it’s morning, can’t tell the difference in this smog filled hell hole anyway, right?”

The reporter broke out in hoarse laughter followed by wet coughing, black liquid splattering out of his mouth and onto his hand and the dirty, half destroyed desk in front of him. Though it was hardly visible through the small, staticy screen of Zi’s transmission box. She watched this broadcast every morning while she ate away at what remained of her monthly allocated food stores, though it was the same almost every day.

The sound of Sola’s rusty wheels squeaking against the dirty, cracked tile of the kitchen almost drowned out the reporter.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” she asked, as she was programmed to do.

“I did, thank you.” Zi replied.

Sola was large for a robot, the models celebrities and politicians had before they all left Earth were lightweight and slick. Sola was bulky and awkward, rusting and falling apart, but she was the only company Zi had left. Her face was blank, the screen no longer worked and the frock she had been wearing as long as Zi could remember was gray (though it was pale yellow when Zi was a child) and torn in several places. On her chest was a brass, heart shaped device, a bit like a pendant. Thin wires spread out from it and connected to different places on Sola’s body, like arteries from a human heart. This was Sola’s power source.

“And finally, one more thing to say! There are no more rations in Sector Seven. If you’re hearing this, I’ve already gone across the oil sea to Sector Eight.”

With that, the transmission was finished.

Zi stared down at the ration in her hand, a strange lump of beige “food” that didn’t taste like anything, but that sustained her enough to keep going every day. She only had enough to last a week.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” Sola asked.

“You asked that already.” Zi said.

“My apologies, what time is it currently? I can’t seem to connect to local time.” she said.

These mistakes were becoming more and more frequent. Zi didn’t want to think that Sola was becoming obsolete or useless, she was her only friend, her only family. A plague of sorts had swept through the world, it was as if all the pollution that managed to slip through the cracks in air and water filtration systems in homes built up a blackness like tar or oil in a person and eventually smothered them to death, like the smog that blotted out the sky snuffing out someone's life. More than half of the population had died from this, and those of extreme wealth had left the planet altogether. Zi’s mother and father had both succumbed to this, and she didn’t know how she was still alive. Perhaps she was immune.

“I don’t know what time it is Sola.” she replied. The whirring and humming of Sola’s heart was the only sound as Zi sat and finished her rations in silence.

“Are you going to Sector Eight?” she asked.

“I don’t think we can. It’s a long walk to the oil sea, and we’d have to be very quick. You know there’s ferals out there that’ll eat me and tear you up for scraps. I’ll think of something.” Zi said solemnly.

Sola placed one of her appendages on Zi’s shoulder.

“It’s in my personality data to care for you, your mother programmed me that way.” she said.

“I know I’m old, I can hardly connect to the internet anymore.”

“That’s alright. You’re my friend, and I’ll think of some way we can both make it to Sector Eight.” Zi said, determination filling her voice, though the idea seemed hopeless.

Sola reached for the heart on her chest, and with as much strength as she could muster she ripped it from herself. Zi cried out as she fell over, crashing to the floor, the brass heart falling from her “hand.”

“Sola, how could you!” Zi shouted, trying her best to shove the heart back in its slot, but the wires were frayed with no chance of reattaching. As Zi kept pressing the heart, she accidentally pressed a button at the back of it which popped it open like a locket. Inside was a small microchip, the kind that one used to watch videos on a transmission box. Zi took it in one hand, clutching the heart to her chest in the other as she pushed the chip into her TB.

A grainy image of her mother appeared.

“I think it’s recording, say your thing!” she said, and the camera turned around to reveal Sola, the display screen that made up her face working perfectly.

“Hello Zi, my name is Sola. Your parents have programmed me to take care of you always, and I hope we will become the very best of friends.” she said. She turned the camera back around and Zi’s mother smiled and clapped her hands excitedly.

“Hello future Zi! It’s me, your mom. I’m sure I won’t be around by the time you see this, and that’s why I’m leaving it to Sola. This chip contains her personality data and memories, memories of me and your father and all of her memories of you growing up.” she paused to cough for a long while, black goo trickling out of her mouth.

“Know that you will be alright, as long as you have that locket. Know that no matter what happens, you are loved.”

Zi sniffed, trying her best not to cry. She took the chip back and placed it within the locket, stringing it on a piece of leather cord and tying it around her neck. She would make it to Sector Eight, she would survive, perhaps she would build a new android there and give it Sola’s personality and memories. There was no time to think about that now, however. She needed to pack and be on her way.