Trent was fumbling with his keys as he tried to unlock the door to his apartment. The paint around the keyhole was scratched away from years of similar struggles.
“Focus,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath but became dizzy and fell against the wall in the narrow hallway. When he first moved in all those years ago he worried the hallway would be claustrophobic—he could extend his elbows and touch the walls. He also wondered how he would get his couch and bed through the narrow space. In the end he had the robots build furniture inside the apartment rather than struggle to get it through a window. Trent’s eyes fluttered, and he could feel the alcohol was beginning to render him unconscious. He’d woken in the hallway before, with his arms numb or his legs twisted impossibly beneath him, ice cold from the lack of blood. The hallway was one of the few places he forbade the attendants to help him. A man needed at least a little dignity.
“Focus dammit!” he scolded himself. The key finally found the keyhole, the pins turning neatly in the lock as Trent leaned heavily into the door which slammed open. Trent lurched toward a loveseat he had put there for this very purpose. Occasionally he missed, and would carom to the floor, but tonight he landed fully on the foam padding and crushed velvet. He kicked the door shut with his foot, and fell immediately to sleep.
The next day, a dog-like robot with an arm and grappling claw in place of a head, padded over to Trent to nudge him awake. It was programmed to increase the level of stimuli until Trent finally sat up. This morning required a cattle-prod-strength shock to the forehead. Trent woke to the smell brewed coffee and singed hair. His loft was fully loaded with smart appliances, the coffee maker among them.
“Good morning Trent,” came the voice from speakers hidden in the ceiling. “Would you like a hot shower, or breakfast first?”
“Shower,” a semi-conscious Trent mumbled. The motorized loveseat hummed smoothly to the bathroom where heated flooring and an already steaming shower awaited.
“Assist,” Trent said. A robot assistant jogged into the bathroom, also headless with a stump-like scanner atop its torso. It had silicone balls for hands and non-slip feet so it could help Trent stand and steady him as he slowly sobered. After the shower, Trent was able to walk reliably on his own. “Coffee,” he said, and the assistant energetically jogged to the kitchen to make it just the way Trent liked. An array of high-end hair products and grooming devices were neatly arranged on the bathroom counter, like tidy surgical instruments. Trent held onto the counter with one hand, and massaged his forehead with the other. The assistant scurried back into the bathroom, the coffee held at the perfect temperature by its electric paws, and set the cup on the counter, waiting urgently for Trent’s next command. Trent slurped the rich liquid, creamed and sugared to his specifications. Still in his towel, coffee in hand and the assistant following cautiously behind him, Trent sat at the kitchen table, his smoggy brain slowly clearing as the room came into focus. He noticed the loveseat still near the bathroom and smiled, realizing that he had hit the mark. Around the world similar scenes played out. There were only about half a million people left, all of them alcoholics.
Technology had progressed so that there was no more poverty and illness was rapidly becoming a thing of the past. Robots and other technological wonders did all the drudge work, maintained the food supply and infrastructure, and anyone could have as many mechanical assistants as they liked. The standard of living around the world was at an apex and humanity was quickly being freed from want. It was when the Centers for Disease Control developed what they thought would be an ultimate and final vaccine for the flu that everything went sideways. Testing had shown it would eradicate the flu forever. It was distributed around the world simultaneously as a vapor released into the atmosphere. As it was inhaled it activated the immune system, just as it was supposed to, but morphed into an autoimmune disorder in which the body killed not just the flu virus but the host as well. The only people spared were those with large amounts of alcohol in their systems. Some bachelor party attendees and other binge drinkers survived for a day or two, selected frat boys survived up to a week, but when they finally sobered up they were eaten alive by their own immune system. Bar flies and boozers suddenly rose to the top of the world’s food chain.
Faithful Muslims and Mormons were wiped out, but closeted drunkards among the flocks survived and no longer lived in shame. Functional alcoholics across all professions became defacto leaders, but due to their inebriation it took them awhile to figure out why they had survived. Autonomous vehicles prevented DUIs, and robots performed any tasks necessary to keep the remaining humans alive. Alcoholics Anonymous was abolished. Drinking heavily while trying to get pregnant replaced prenatal vitamins. Every Starbucks beverage came with two shots of vodka. The remaining scientists worked to solve the problem but between their shaking hands and pickled brains, progress was slow. Doctors focused on how to reverse or prevent the predictable damage to the body in a population soaked in liquor, but they were too drunk to work more than a few hours at a time, and often forgot what they’d done the day before. In hospitals, nearly every surgery was botched and if one did manage to make it out of the operating suite, the stewed nurses and orderlies would surely do you in. Birth control of any kind was banned and every life was now deemed truly precious in an effort repopulate the planet. Formerly scorned, homeless drunks were housed and provided with the finest amenities.
No other life on earth was effected by the antiviral cloud. The birds, bees and other beasts thrived with few humans around to harass them. Hunting was banned since intoxicated hunters did more damage to each other than to any animals. Buffalo herds once again thundered across the American plains, flocks of birds blackened the sky, fish populations surged, species near extinction now filled the trees, lakes, forests and mountains. Automated fishing boats and farms still produced a food supply for the tiny human population, but most of the domesticated animals had been returned to the wild.
There was a world-wide surplus of resources as automated wells still pumped oil into refineries, giant mining robots pulled oar from the earth, and saw-bladed robot monsters milled lumber from of the forests at an unyielding pace. The robots and appliances ran on solar power and high-capacity batteries so the whole system was self-sustaining. But all that automation needed something to do. Without humans the office buildings, new automobiles, couture fashions and CGI movies would be produced for a vacant planet.
All the formerly repellent habits of the over-imbibed became a normal part of the culture. Unexpected vomiting, wetting oneself, shitting the bed, falling off of furniture, stained and rumpled clothes, tripping over curbs, bloodshot eyes and drinking on the job were as common as a sneeze and no one thought anything of it. There was a brief renaissance in the arts, whereby alcoholic artists, writers, actors, directors and other boozy virtuosos were able to work unhindered by the need for money. But in the end, they all devolved into sloppy drunks repeating the same tired story of an unfinished book, script or painting. The robot attendants listened with endless patience but nobody else could tolerate them.
Over the decades the human population grew thin. Robots moved the remaining people into one city to give re-population a fighting chance. All the deserted parts of the world continued to function normally and were kept in pristine condition by the hoards of automated keepers waiting for the time when the humans would return. Wildlife moved into many of the parks, golf courses and stadiums in these abandoned areas with elk, moose, deer, and bears wandering freely through the streets. Having little else to do the attendants took to feeding the animals as a way to pass the time.
Eventually, all the humans went extinct. Between the deadly flu vaccine and the debilitating effects of alcohol abuse that started in the womb, the population simply wasn’t sustainable. The machines took care of the burials and cremations, based on the programmed wishes of each person. After the last human had been put in the ground the machinery continued to maintain the planet but lacked a focus. There was a grim period when some of the attendants began digging up their dead masters, bringing them home and tending to the remains. As bits rotted off the smart appliances were able to scrub the floors clean and cheerfully dispose of the fetid bits. The attendants would clothe the corpses, wash them, and put them in front of the TV to watch their favorite shows as they gradually turned into skeletons. Finally, when they were caring for little more than an immaculate collection of loose bones, the remains were re-interred. This death ritual became the norm and gave the mechanized helpers a grieving process for the loss of their humans.
At some point in time, with the animal population burgeoning, a bear wandered into a house and instead of shooing it away the attendants made it a meal. The bear remained and brought others with it. Eventually, bears all over the world learned how to live in the houses and apartments and how to direct the machinery to suit their needs. The automated system learned what the bears wanted from their various barks and growls, and buildings were remodeled to better suit the needs of the giant, furry mammals. Carpet was made thicker, doors were removed, bathtubs enlarged, and bedrooms were converted into caves suitable for hibernation. Along the way the bears did adopt some human habits—they all had a deep love of coffee with sugar and cream and a penchant for Disney movies.
The world-wide network linking all the robots, attendants and appliances communicated the story of bear tending and soon the automated planet formed a symbiotic relationship with every type of bird, bug and beast on the planet. The humans were eventually erased from the network’s memory as their spotless bones slowly returned to dust.