The probe cruised the atmosphere of the alien planet searching for conversational life.

(The people who sent the probe had debated for decades about what exactly they were looking for: self-aware life? Intelligent life? Communicative life? All those terms could apply to beings which they had right at home which were wild animals, or pets. They eventually settled on life forms with which they could carry out a meaningful conversation; that seemed to cover it. Even if a species might fail some other test of intelligence, the probers would be content with this. And the wiser among them had remarked that this attitude acknowledged that some alien life forms might be so advanced that they themselves would not want to bother carrying out a conversation with the probers; that was fair enough, they thought.)

The probe pursued its slow flight in the planet’s atmosphere through daylight, darkness, gales of wind, water precipitation. Eventually it found one being – just one – who was deemed capable of holding a conversation, although it was currently not able to.

The probe was automated. It had searched the planet for forty years. It would need to signal its home planet and summon a much larger ship to begin the conversation.

*

Perry became aware that he was floating in a cavernous space, a void. At first he thought he was in outer space itself, naked and soon to die; then, perhaps in freefall; finally he realized that he could see curved walls in the distance. There was light, from a source he couldn’t see, but also these dark walls. He was floating in an enormous cylindrical space.

He felt he had been there for some time, but couldn’t say why.

He discovered that he was able to twist himself around to get a better view of his surroundings, but it all looked the same in any direction; except that above himself he saw, also floating, a very large open white case.

A white light appeared before him. It started as a graying of the void, and then brightened. It became a sphere, smaller than he was; but it then lengthened, took shape, and turned into a reflection of himself.

He looked pale, and had no muscle tone. His reflection’s midair float looked even more jarring than it felt doing it: his arms were slightly outstretched, legs apart.

The reflection opened its mouth and made a sound, but it was only a hum. It varied, ranging higher and lower.

“What are you?” Perry asked.

“What,” the reflection repeated.

“And where am I? What is this?”

“You are,” the reflection said.

Perry did not answer; the reflection then refined it:

“You are? Where are?”

“I am . . . Perry. My name is Perry. And this is . . . ” but he didn’t know what to answer.

“Perry is what?”

“Perry is me. Something happened to me. I don’t understand. I don’t understand where I am. Or what that case is.”

“Perry is where case.”

He said nothing for a moment.

“You’re saying I was in that?”

“Perry was in that case. What you found Perry.”

“You let me out of it?”

“What you let Perry out of case.”

He paused. Had he been in a chair he might have leaned back, at this point, to consider; but as he was floating, the lean just made him a bit more horizontal. He straightened back up.

“So you need to build your . . . vocabulary. Very good. Yes, I am Perry and I am floating here in the air. In this huge cylinder. You found me in that case, very good. But I don’t know where I am. I want to get out, to get down. Down there. Not up here. And I don’t understand who you are. I am a person, a man, a human. I guess you are not.”

“I am not a human,” the reflection answered. Now it paused, and seemed to think about something; Perry wondered if he looked that blank-faced when he himself stopped to choose words.

“I am zhranmin,” the reflection said.

“Zhranmin. Nice to meet you, Zhranmin. I would like to get out of here. And down.”

“You are in the air. Zhranmin float here to found you in case.”

“Floated through what? You flew here?

“Zhranmin flew in air. Air air air.”

Perry stared at his reflection.

“Lots of air. Are you saying you are some sort of alien? Aliens? You flew through space? Here to Earth?”

“Zhranmin aliens flew through space to Earth to found Perry.”

“To find Perry – but what about everyone else? Am I still on Earth? Where are all of my people? All the other humans?”

“Aliens find Perry on Earth. Perry, Perry.”

“No one else? No other humans?”

“No one else.”

*

Perry tried to ignore the implications of this. It was too much to think about, now, here, floating naked and talking to an automated reflection of himself.

“I am on Earth right now? It feels like I’m in space. I shouldn’t be floating.”

“Perry floats in zhranmin here. Zhranmin case.”

“This is a ship of yours? A spaceship? Or airship – something like that?”

“This is a zhranmin spaceship on Earth.”

“On Earth? Or above it? In space?”

“On Earth.”

“Can I get out, then? I want to get out and walk around. See the Earth.”

“Perry get out, walk around the Earth.”

“Okay, good.”

The reflection did not respond.

“May I do that now?”

“Not now. Perry get out and walk around the earth.”

“Later, you’re saying? Not now?”

“Later.”

“Are more of you here? Real zhranmins, not just this reflection?”

Before the reflection answered, Perry heard a dull groan from below him. He then started drifting down toward the floor of the ship. It must have landed. The “later” the reflection promised apparently meant just a moment.

He noticed that the white case, which had been floating up and behind him all this time, was also slowly falling.

His feet reached the floor, which was warm, gray, and soft. It curved up into darkness on either side of him. The cylindrical ship must have been many hundreds of yards wide, he realized.

The case landed a short distance behind him, coming to a soft touchdown. It lay open, silent. Perry thought it looked – spent. Its job was done.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The reflection, too, had descended along with Perry.

“Perry can walk to Earth,” the reflection told him. It started drifting straight ahead, looking back to see if Perry was following. (Although it struck him that this automated guide would not actually have to turn its eyes toward him in order to sense him moving. It was clearly mimicking his behavior.)

“You guys are sticking to the illusion, aren’t you.”

“Sticking to the illusion?”

“Never mind.”

The image had been floating a few inches above the ground, until it observed how Perry walked. It then imitated him, awkwardly at first but then quickly copying his gait very accurately.

“Perry can walk to Earth,” it repeated.

“You’re taking me to a door? An exit? A way out?”

“To a door.”

“Why is this ship so large? There’s no one else in it?”

“Large?”

“Big.” He raised his arms, gestured around. “This is big. A big zhranmin ship. As big as a tanker. But it’s just me here?”

“It’s just you here. Zhranmin are not on earth.”

“Not here on earth.”

“Not here.”

“You’re on a different planet. This is all automated?”

“This is automated. Zhranmin are not here.”

They continued to walk down the padded floor-wall.

“Can you show me what you look like?”

Again there was a pause before his reflection answered.

“Zhranmin will show Perry what look like, later.”

The reflection then spoke a sentence with the sound of a question:

“Perry: I, you, you guys. One, no one. Zhranmin zhranmin. Human. Human human?”

He didn’t understand what his guide was trying to say.

The reflection repeated:

“Perry: I, you, you guys. One, no one. Zhranmin zhranmin. Human. Human human?”

“Are you asking me for more pronouns? You are. You’re learning English. All right.” He nodded.

“We are here, you and I. They are not here, the other humans, or the other zhranmin. Who, what, where, when, why. Who is here? Perry and you are here. What are we? A human, and a reflection of one made by zhranmin. Where are we? On Earth, is what you’re telling me. When? What time is it? How many times has the Earth revolved around the sun since I have been in that case?”

He gestured, with both hands, something suggesting a ball making large orbits.

“I don’t know that one. I would like to. Maybe you can tell me. And why? How did this happen? I don’t know. Maybe you can explain that to me too.

“Need, want, have,” he continued. “The three most important words. A linguist told me that. I need water, and food. Well, not right now. But I will need water and food to drink and eat. I have – not much. I have a case back there. I have black hair. Want – I want to get outside. I want to, I would like to, get outside and see Earth.”

He saw now that they were reaching the end of the cylinder. A giant wall rose up before them. He didn’t see a doorway or hatch.

“We are here,” the reflection said. “You want to get outside.”

“Indeed. You’ve got a magic doorway here?”

And then the wall did indeed dilate open.

Outside, Perry saw a broad meadow. He half-closed his eyes from the sunshine. It must have been early afternoon in the summer. Tall grasses rolled away from him. At the far edges of the meadow, a treeline surrounded him on every side.

A warm breeze blew up and over him. The green vision before him was stunning.

“Is this real?” he asked.

A ramp led down from the ship. At its bottom he stepped off into the grass. Turning around, he saw that the ship was indeed about the size of an oil tanker. A large gray cylinder, sure enough. It looked massively incongruous in the quiet field.

The zhranmin reflection still stood at the top of the ramp.

“Are you coming down?”

“Automated here in ship,” it answered.

“You can’t be projected out,” Perry said. “Okay. You will stay up there. Up, down. Left, right. Ahead, behind.”

With the last word he motioned behind himself with his thumb. He then turned and walked toward the treeline.

The walk took a few minutes. The trees were mostly maples, vivid green. Their leaves barely swayed as breezes drifted through. He saw ants several times, and there were occasional gnats. The world was not dead. Only all the people, apparently.

Some way further down the treeline he heard birds not far off.

“The dinosaurs continue to be survivors.”

He returned after making a circuit of the meadow. Beyond the treeline to might what have been the north – the sun was too high in the sky for him to really guess – the land ran downhill, and he thought he might have heard running water. Hugging the treeline and circling back, he eventually came even with the edge of the alien ship again. He thought about walking all the way around it, but it was very long, and his feet were starting to get irritated from the field grass. The reflection was still in the doorway when he returned.

“It’s beautiful,” he said.

“This is Earth,” the reflection answered.

“Does that mean you agree? Very courteous, thank you. But you’re telling me there’s nowhere to go? There are no towns, no other humans?”

“Reflection need to learn English,” it said.

“You need more vocabulary to explain it. Very well. There’s no rush, it sounds like.”

“You need to drink and eat.”

“I do.”

He heard a hum in the air behind him, and turned to see two objects approaching. They were silver, metal. He couldn’t see what was keeping them up in the air.

The first was about the size and shape of a bath sink. It lowered itself down to his chest level. It was full of water. The second was also bowl-shaped, but oblong. It, too, lowered itself, and Perry saw it was full of pears. They looked wild – small and tough. But edible.

*

Later, as the sun dropped, Perry explained the concept of sleep to the reflection, and arranged to spend the night just outside the ship. The reflection caused what looked like a huge tarp to be flown out of the doorway by the hovercraft robots.

“Thanks for this. I don’t know if it's supposed to be a tent-sized blanket, or a blanket-shaped tent.”

Regardless, it was warm and comfortable once he wrapped himself up in it.

*

He spent two more days in the meadow, just outside the ship, the reflection always present in the doorway. The robots brought him more water, many more pears, and a pile of raw grains of wheat. He thought for a time about asking for a lighter, and a pot, and more water, but eventually realized he could simply explain – at some length – that he needed the wheat to be cooked. And after a short time the robots flew him a basin of cooked wheat.

All along, the English of the reflection improved.

“How did you find me?”

“A probe of ours detected you, in the case. It was unable to establish contact with you, of course, so we sent a recovery device. This ship. Large enough to revive you and open the case.”

“Far larger than needed to do that. But the initial probe was not equipped for that?”

“The probe was smaller than your smallest tooth.”

“Where was I found? The case, I mean?”

“In this field. Beneath where this ship is now.”

“Just on the ground?”

“It was mostly buried in the dirt.”

“No one built me any sort of temple? The nerve.”

“Temple?”

“A building of respect.”

“Sometimes your words are intentionally and unreasonably incorrect. The word for that?”

“Humor. So do you travel faster than light?”

“No.”

“So you’re from a star close enough to do all this. Send the probe, then send the recovery ship.”

“That depends on what you mean by ‘close,’ Perry. These steps took four thousand years.”

*

Perry felt unmoored; as if a dock line had come unknotted, or an anchor chain had snapped. He had been hoping all along, he realized now, that he was not too far removed from his time; not too far from 2025, from Jen and Araceli. Even if they were gone, somehow it seemed it would be less final to him if he was still living in something that could be considered their time. The instant he heard “four thousand years” that hope vanished, and it was like a pleasant hum that suddenly ended and was felt only in its absence.

“So I am four thousand years past my life,” he said.

“Or more,” he added. “Maybe much more. That was just your transit time after you found me.”

“You were in the stasis device for over two hundred thousand years.”

*

This struck him silent for a long stretch.

Involuntarily he had a vision of the years that passed shown as a bar on a graph, or an animation of a rising tower; the tower piled up levels higher and higher, exponentially faster, stacking them on top of each other by the tens, hundreds, thousands.

“That’s – epochs. Ice ages could have come and gone. The Holocene may be over. It must be.”

*

“Do you have any idea of what happened to humans?”

“They did not survive long after your first life. Relatively speaking. We have found some of their residue, and dated it. It dates to only several hundred years after your life.”

“And two hundred thousand years have passed since.”

“Yes. More like two hundred and forty thousand.”

Perry paused.

“Well then.”

He thought to himself for a while.

“The advances in technology that made my survival possible in that case,” he eventually said, “were accompanied by others that killed everyone else. It’s ironic.”

No response.

“I suppose you’ve also come across some of the spacecraft we sent out? Our own probes?”

“We have seen several.”

“Nothing like yours. But we made something that lasted. A couple fancy cameras we blasted to nowhere. No settlements of ours on the Moon? Or Mars?”

“A few were made, but they lasted no longer.”