by Lisa Timpf
News headline: Robotic dogs and fish could help explore deeper into other worlds
Day 1: Ace, Bravo, and Captain disembark from the autonomous lander, mechanical paws stirring the turquoise Martian dust. They are ready to travel where wheeled rovers cannot go. To sniff out new information. To explore heretofore unseen territory. Though tentative at first, they find their footing, revelling in the lighter gravity.
bounding the dunes—
each day
a fresh adventure
Day 10: Back on Earth, NASA continues to share images captured by the canid robots. Everyone is amazed. Everyone except for the cats, that is. Felines hold a protest outside NASA headquarters, complaining loudly. Their argument comes down to this: You should have modelled the robots after us. We are programmed for curiosity, and we always land on our feet.
dearer than catnip—
thrill of exploring
new spaces
Scientists hide their smiles. Cats were, indeed, considered as a model for the new exploration robots. But who needs a mechanical device with attitude? One that demands 20 hours of sleep a day and is predisposed to do as it pleases, rather than what you please?
Day 340: Puppyish enthusiasm gone, the robot dogs are all business. Loyal to their cause, they patrol their new planet. Day after twenty-four-plus-hour day. Dutiful. Tireless.
Still, they can’t help but notice how the eternal cold gets in their joints.
temperature check at Martian poles—
a three-dog night
indeed
Day 365: Back on Earth, the techs run diagnostics, remotely.
system downtime—
they dream of chasing rabbits
under orange skies
Day 3,650: Human colonists arrive at last.
fin-down at sunset—
fierce joy
of reunion
Day 7,000: The colonists have kept the canids running as long as possible, but Martian dust is a formidable enemy. Besides, with the cost of shipping goods from Earth, spare parts are more valuable than gold, almost as precious as oxygen.
The assigned tech flips the off switch, quelling forever the glow from those eerie eyes. With sure and steady hands, he dismantles each canid, one by one. Just doing his job.
Still, he is never the same, afterwards. There is something about the companionship of two legs and four that is ingrained in the human psyche. It feels wrong, somehow, what he’s done.
Had he asked, Ace and the others would have told him not to worry. Told him that there is no fault in mercy. In providing dignity at the end.
to everything its time—
called home
like all good dogs