Terrence—Age 15, Generation 2

I do not feel like writing. A part of me has died today.

I feel hollow.

Abby Prime has been badgering me since Terr Prime’s death to write something. But I don’t know what to write.

He will be remembered, I guess. Through me. Through Abby-2. Through his writing. Through his teachings. I am at a loss for what I could add to his memory. He was perfect, and that will be known for all of our history.

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The last year had been his toughest. He worked too hard. I’m afraid it sped up his death. Every day, from wake to sleep, he dedicated himself to teaching.

He and Abby Prime, when not caring for us, would spend their time writing—documenting every lesson that they could remember from Earth, before then teaching it to us.

Some things we understood: how to naturally grow food, build a shelter. . . even electricity generation seemed pretty straightforward. Other topics I reserve for my future self, whether that be me in a few years or a few generations.

Terr Prime’s lessons on a topic he called “Computer Science” were highly stressed, but difficult to understand. It’s hard to believe that he actually expects us to make a rock think. He told us it’s necessary for their “Universal Computer” plan. I don’t know.

I guess I’m left with no choice but to believe him. There certainly will be many gaps to fill in ourselves. I dread this responsibility.

We’ll understand it all one day—I’m certain. But for now, all I can do is mourn.