Forty-Second Entry

March 11^th, 2037

1030

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION>

__

LAST COMMUNICATION RECEIVED 16 HOURS AGO. PLEASE UPDATE.

HOW DID THE WHOLE TUBE THING GO? WE’RE ALL REALLY QUITE INTERESTED.

MIND YOU, THERE’S NOTHING REALLY GOOD ON TV.

__

<END TRANSMISSION>

1130

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION>

__

ALSO, BEFORE WE FORGET, THOSE MISSILES ARE QUITE POWERFUL. YOU MIGHT NOT WANT TO FIRE THEM IN A SMALL, ENCLOSED SPACE.

JUST A FRIENDLY WARNING.

__

<END TRANSMISSION>

1215

Dear Space Diary.

So that was an impromptu bout of unconsciousness. Last thing I can remember is the tube I destroyed hurtling downwards towards the ship, then I blacked out.

Not only is it the last thing I can remember, but I’m fairly certain it’s going to stay with me for some time.

Credit where it’s due, I have to admit that NASA makes an extremely resilient spaceship. As far as I can tell from where I am, there’s nary a dent on the Zubrin after the tube hit it.

This makes sense when you consider that NASA still haven’t come up with a better landing strategy than “pick your landing site and hit it really hard.”

Where NASA do still need work, however, is their interiors. No, I’m not referring to the decor, although I will admit that white stopped being fashionable round about when they stopped making iPods. No, I’m specifically referring to the fact that very few pieces of furniture seem to be securely fastened.

This wouldn’t be a problem in my old ship. Mainly because there was nothing in it. There was a chair and the feeding tubes, both of which felt pretty secure.

The Zubrin, on the other hand, is a much more – for want of a better word – luxurious ship. Comfy chair, several cupboards, and even a table where Mary could eat her nutritional paste in comfort, if not delight.

All of which, incidentally, are currently pinned on top of me. I cannot even begin to move.

Also, Mary appears to be trying to eat my foot, but I don’t think that’s intentional, I think that’s just where she happened to roll in the confusion.

1225

Kicked Mary away. Feel a little bad about that for some reason, but having a 20 year old skull latched on to your foot is not conducive to calm, reasoned logic.

1230

Because of a rather action packed series of events, I haven’t eaten in about 24 hours. Getting pretty hungry. It’s all quietened down now, so it would be the perfect time for a snack, but I don’t think that’s going to be an option.

1330

I must be starving. The nutritional paste is starting to taste really delicious in my head.

I’m actually not that far from one of the tubes. Maybe if I stretch out my hand...

1335

No good. Just out of reach.

Another rumble from the rock pile. Maybe if I’m lucky it’ll shake this stuff off me.

1337

Mary’s rolled back and is now biting my elbow.

I’m hungry too, Mary.

Forty-First Entry

March 10^th, 2037

1726

Dear Space Diary.

Hanging on for dear life to the edge of the tube. I’m not going to be able to hold on much longer. Given the strength of the wind that’s sucking me into the tube, I’m guessing there’s an extremely powerful fan at the end of this, and I’ve no intention of confirming that theory.

That probably means my ship isn’t go to fare that well either. Hmm.

1727

Fingers are slipping. I’m about to let go.

This is going to hurt. I’m closing my eyes.

CLANG

That was unexpected. What was that?

Oh. It’s the Zubrin. It’s been sucked into the tube as well. It’s quite a long ship, though, so it’s jammed itself on the mouth of the tube. It’s only a metre away from me.

As is the door.

...Damn it! I can’t reach it. No matter how hard I stretch I can’t quite reach the handle. I don’t want to stretch any further, I might lose my grip on the tube. And that’s tough enough as it is, with all these rocks flying past me.

Hmm. Rocks.

1728

Missed it.

1729

Missed again!

1730

Caught one! Ok, I now have a rock. Goody. Now, have to aim this right...

Hit! Right on the button! Maybe I should turn pro when I get back to Earth.

Pro... rock throwing at door buttons. Is that a real competition? Probably not.

1732

Ok, inside the Zubrin, door closed and locked.

So instead of hanging onto the mouth of an alien death tube, I’m now inside a space ship that’s hanging on to the mouth of an alien death tube.

On the bright side, at least there’s air conditioning.

Also a toilet. Back in a minute.

1737

And back.

In the cockpit now. Wondering if I can get the engines working on this thing. Seems pretty unlikely though. They’re very old. What’s more, the fuel’s probably run out. Fusion power didn’t generate enough electricity to run engines back when the Zubrin was launched, so there’s not much chance it would get all the way out here (however it managed that) without using up it’s supplies.

Hang on, there’s a message from NASA here.

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION>

__

SOME THOUGHTS ON YOUR PREDICAMENT. THE ZUBRIN WAS EQUIPPED WITH SEVERAL SMALL WARHEADS (NON NUCLEAR) AS A PRECAUTIONARY MEASURE. THEY MIGHT BE USEFUL SHOULD YOU FIND YOURSELF IN A TIGHT SPOT.

__

<END TRANSMISSION>

Missiles? What were you expecting to find on Mars, guys?

1740

Still, it’s a thought. The ship isn’t going to hang here indefinitely.

1742

Found it. Weapons systems. Hmm. Only three warheads. Don’t really want to waste them. Or, indeed, make anyone angry.

Seems to be functional though.

1746

The ship is giving way...

1747

Just wrenched itself free. We’re going up the tube. Metal surrounds me on all sides.

Out of options. Fire Missile One.

1800

Man that was a big explosion. The entire tube has been severed.

And it’s falling towards me...

Fortieth Entry

March 10^th, 2037

1705

Dear Space Diary.

I’m currently about to vacuumed up by a giant alien death tube.

In all honesty, it’s been a bit of a day.

The tubes (of which there are hundreds) have burst down through the roof and are currently sucking up large chunks of the rock pile that I’ve been stuck in. Given the whole gravity thing, I’m being dragged with them.

NASA have no ideas. I have no ideas. I don’t know where Mr Rock has got to, but I’m almost certain he’d have no ideas.

How about you, Mary, any ideas? Nope. Still a skeleton. Oh well.

1707

Getting really close to the nearest tube now. It’s only a matter of time.

Wait, what’s that over... That’s my ship! My ship just rose out of the rock pile, right in front of the Zubrin! Phew, what a relief. It looks ok. Look, there’s Mr Rock in the window and everything!

1708

Even though my situation is still pretty dire, it’s quite uplifting to finally see the ship again. And I can go out now and everything. Sorry Mary, time to leave you to your devices and get back to my ship.

I’ll take the logs, though, not done with them yet.

1711

Door opened. The rocks are pretty unstable and moving, but if I’m careful I can keep my balance.

Ok, let’s get over to the ship quickly.

1713

Blast. Really hard to walk when the ground keeps shifting. Fallen over twice already.

Nearly at the ship now. My hand can almost reach the –

1714

It’s gone! It slipped under the rocks again.

Come on, come on, gotta dig it out, I need to get back inside.

Hang on, I can still see it through the cracks between the rocks.

1716

It’s moving quite fast actually.

Towards one of the... oh hell.

I’ve got to get to it. Maybe I can fire the engines before... oh.

1717

It just got sucked up the tube.

It’s gone. It’s actually gone. The ship, my home, for months, is gone. Mr Rock, the closest thing to a friend I have out here (which admittedly is not that close) is gone.

My origami cranes are gone.

1718

Ok, strange sense of loss over inanimate rocks and a tomb of a spaceship later. Escaping from death tubes now.

I better get back to the Zubrin.

1719

My leg is stuck. It’s caught between the rocks. It’s not painful, but I... I can’t move it!

1720

And I’m still moving. Towards the tubes. Outside the ship. In a lead based atmosphere.

This really is not my day.

1722

The rocks are too heavy to lift. I think I can roll this one a little though.

1723

Well, It did roll. It rolled on to my other leg. Now they’re both trapped.

Great.

1725

I’m almost under the tube.

1726

I can see up the tube. It stretches forever. Just rocks hurtling up it.

And now me.

Here goes.

Thirty-Ninth Entry

March 10^th, 2037

1610

Dear Space Diary.

What are these things?

They’re huge, whatever they are. Giant and metallic (but, like everything else around here, still pinkish), they’ve burst out of every (and I mean every) cave and entry in the walls and roof, and smashed straight into the rock pile, which I originally had thought was pretty large, but seems pretty small in comparison to these things.

And there’s hundreds of them. Almost the entire pile is covered, with a only a small gap here and there. It’s a mercy I wasn’t crushed.

...They don’t seem to be doing anything either. I’m not entirely sure what the point of the giant metal noodle frenzy was.

Unless it was freaking me out. in which case, mission accomplished.

1615

Door closed, back inside. In 60 minutes I’m out of here and finding my ship and then getting the hell out of here, however I can.

Sorry Mary. I’d bring you with me, but you’re kind of creepy. Although admittedly you wouldn’t take up much space. You’re very compact these days.

I wonder how you died. I didn’t get very far in the logs before I was interrupted.

1625

NASA just messaged. They’ve been hard at work on a solution for my ball of light predicament, and have a solution. Based on my entries, they’ve devised a theory that their “fetching” could in fact be a reflex action. Given where they’ve dropped me, they could in fact be alien garbage men, simply cleaning up the mess I made by crashing on their planet.

If I threw something for them to recover, it might distract them long enough to make a break for it before they “recover” me.

1630

Wrote back to NASA, telling them they have in fact missed the boat on this one, and I have an entirely new problem now involving giant pink metal tubes, and did they have any bright ideas on this one?

1645

Been reading over the Zubrin’s logs. The ship started intercepting signals shortly after Mary reached orbit around Mars, which were important a) because they were possible evidence of intelligent life and b) because they scrambled her guidance systems, sending her hurtling off course.

I deeply sympathise, Mary.

15 minutes and I’m going outside.

1652

Something’s happening.

1653

Back in the cockpit. I can hear a rumbling, now. Getting louder. The rocks are shaking.

1655

Ow, that’s really loud now. Starting to hurt my ears. I’m not sure I can stand it if it gets much louder.

1658

Well, on the bright side, turns out I can stand higher volumes. On the downside, OW.

The rocks are shaking more and more violently.

Wait. They’re moving. And I’m being dragged with them.

1659

We’re moving towards the tubes. It’s vacuuming the rocks up. And me as well.

Hurry up NASA.

1702

<INCOMING TRANSMISSIONS>

__

THAT’S A TOUGH ONE. WE’LL HAVE TO THINK. STAY PUT.

__

<END TRANSMISSION>

If I die, NASA, I’m going to kill you.

Thirty-Eight Entry

March 10^th, 2037

1500

Dear Space Diary.

So I’m currently held hostage inside the ship by three alien balls of light.

I originally thought one of them was Lightdog, the rather playful and friendly light I met earlier. Well, playful and friendly right up until it kidnapped me and dumped me in this rubbish heap.

But really, how do I know if it’s the same one? They all look pretty much identical. All light and ball-like.

Whoever they are, all they’ve done for the past hour is just go round and round the ship. Which means I’m pretty much stuck. I don’t know what they’d do if I opened the door.

1510

So I’m feeling particularly foolhardy. Let’s open the door. At least I’ll know if I’m trapped or not.

Two more hours until I can stay outside for any length of time, but I figure just opening and shutting the door shouldn’t be too fatal.

Here goes something.

1511

Lights just going around as normal. I’ll try and open the door when they’re furthest away.

1512

Door open.

1515

Man those things are fast. The second the door was opened they were right outside. I don’t know if they can see, but I swear they were staring at me.

Door closed again. Heading back to the cockpit.

1516

...where they were waiting for me. Right outside the window. Just sitting there.

As giant kidnapping balls of alien light go, they’re reasonably unsettling.

1520

Still just sitting there.

1530

Guys, I promise I’m not going to open the door again.

1545

And they’re back to circling. I guess that’s an improvement.

Ok, so I’m trapped in here. I don’t know what they’ll do if I try to run, but I’m not sure I want to find out.

1550

Messaged NASA, sending them those logs they were after, and explaining my predicament. Asked for any advice they could provide. Nothing to do but wait until they respond I guess.

Before I sent the logs, I found a printer and printed off a copy. A lot of it is garbled and corrupted, but I can make out a fair bit, especially towards the start.

1558

Mary and the Zubrin were the first attempt to land someone on Mars. I’m guessing they failed because NASA like their PR and would have talked the hell out of it if they had done it.

So, what happened?

1603

Well, she got to Mars. But it looks like when she got there they found –

CRASH

What was that?

The Lightdogs are back outside the front of the cockpit. But I don’t think they’re looking at me this time. They seem... distracted?

CRASH

Oh. And now they’re running away.

This does not bode well.

CRASH

Something big just smashed into the rock in front of the cockpit. Long and metallic, like a massive cylinder.

It doesn’t seem to be doing anything. I gotta look outside.

1608

...Well, now I know why they ran.

There’s hundreds of them.

Thirty-Seventh Entry

March 10^th, 2037

1345

Dear Space Diary.

I keep hearing noises outsides the space craft. I’m not entirely sure what. Either something is moving around amongst all the rocks, or the rocks themselves are moving.

Which means that either I’m being watched, or I could be at risk of another collapse in the pile, possibly burying me and my actual ship – wherever it is – under several hundred tonnes of soft pink rock.

That, admittedly, it would be pretty easy to dig out of. And it’s not like I’m ever going to run out of food or air, even if I can’t find my own ship. Fortunately (depending on your point of view) food processing technology was pretty advanced even twenty years ago, so I have all the nutritional paste I could ever want.

Which honestly is not a huge amount. Paste and taste are similar in name only.

1355

Noises still going. Seems stable enough so I guess I’m safe for the time being.

1400

NASA have messaged and asked me to make a copy of the logs from the Zubrin, but have asked me not to read them.

Their exact words were “Vital important documents thought lost on Zubrin. Please don’t read them though. They are of no importance, and probably also dull. But make sure you send them to us, they are extremely important.”

Hmm.

1405

I’m looking through the computer. Seems this ship doesn’t crash as well as mine does, either that or it’s been through a lot worse. Most of the drive seems badly damaged. I guess I should be thankful that life support still works, or I’d have problems of my own.

Quite a few files just crash when I open them. But the logs are still here.

1412

Now I know where I knew the ship name from! This is the Zubrin, the ship that left for Mars when I was a kid! No one really knows what happened to it though, the news just stopped reporting it one day.

You know, kind of like the way they stopped reporting about me...

That’s a thought that’s going to keep me up tonight.

Anyway, I wonder what it’s doing all the way out here though? This thing doesn’t have faster than light drive, it wouldn’t have taken forever to get out here.

...About twenty years, give or take.

Maybe I should take a look at these logs after – What was that?

1415

There is definitely something outside this ship. That was no rock fall. Something is walking around the perimeter of the ship.

I guess there’s no way of knowing without going outside. And I’m stuck in here for another few hours yet.

1417

Or I could look out the window. You know, the one I’m sitting right in front of.

1418

I can’t see anything, they must be on the other side.

1420

It’s Lightdog! What’s he doing down here?

Hang on though, Lightdog doesn’t walk.

1422

Oh. And neither do his two friends...

Thirty-Sixth Entry

March 10^th, 2037

1317

Dear Space Diary.

Only two hours ago, my biggest worry was trying to get back inside my spaceship – or any spaceship – before I sealed myself to a slow and painful death by lead poisoning.

I’m happy to say that particular issue has been dealt with.

Instead, I now have less than half an hour to shut down a twenty year old self-destruct system that my employers turned on because they thought I was trespassing.

Which in a way I was, but that’s not the point.

Ok, they’ve sent an audio instruction manual along with their last message. Hopefully I can work this out in time. Mind you, if it’s a standard NASA manual it’ll take me longer than half an hour just to listen to the thing, let alone understand it.

ZUBRIN – Instruction Manual – Last Updated 4^th April 2015.

<PLAY>

“Congratulations on choosing the ZUBRIN Mark IV, NASA’s newest...”

<FAST FORWARD>

Table of contents, here we go...

1322

Found it. Chapter 97: Emergency Destruct system.

“To arm the ZUBRIN’s Emergency Des-

<FAST FORWARD>

Yes, thank you, it’s already armed.

“...means it has been disarmed successfully.”

Blast, too far.

<REWIND>

“... if you want to disarm the emergency destruct system...”

Yes, I do. Go on.

“Follow these easy steps. First, open panel to the right of the main console screen. Then, get your wire cutters...”

<PAUSE>

Blast! Wire cutters. Mary, you better have packed some. And then filed them away properly before you died. In some hopefully painless and non wire cutter losing way.

1325

Come on, come on. You must have some.

1330

Yes! Ok, ten minutes until this place is destroyed. Back to the manual.

<PLAY>

“First of all, this is extremely important. Do NOT cut the green wire.”

Don’t cut the green wire. Don’t cut the green wire.

Oh.

There isn’t a green wire. Well, that was easy.

“Now, cut the blue wire.”

SNIP.

Done. Easy enough so far.

“Then carefully cut the following 27 wires in this exact order...”

Sigh.

1337

Ok, that’s all of them. I’m safe now, right?

“Congratulations, you are now halfway through disarming the emergency destruct system.”

AAAARRGGGHH!

Forget this, I don’t have time. I’m cutting them all.

1338

SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP.

1339

SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP. SNIP.

1340

...SNIP.

“Finally, press the off button.”

Off button, off button. There isn’t an off button! There’s a button. Is that the off button? What happens if I press it? And why am I asking questions to a tape recording?

CLICK.

...Nothing happened. Is it off? How do I tell?

“If you have successfully disarmed the emergency destruct system, you will notice that there is no explosion. This means it has been disarmed successfully.”

Great. Still, I don’t appear to be dead. I call that a win.

Well at least now I can –

1341

...What’s that noise?

Thirty-Fifth Entry

March 10^th, 2037

1122

Dear Space Diary.

I’ve got 3 minutes to get back inside my ship.

Only problem is, I can’t find my ship.

I’ve found a ship. But it isn’t mine. This one looks old. Much older than mine. And whereas my ship... whatever it’s called (I probably should keep track of things like that) is spherical, this one is conical.

But it’s silver, like my ship. Whereas everything else here is, well, pink.

You know what? Science later. Being alive now.

1123

WHERE is my ship? It could be anywhere in this rubble.

1124

I’m out of time. Hang on, I think I’ve found the door on the other ship.

1125

It’s open! Who knows what I’ll find inside, but it’s the best shot I’ve got.

1126

Inside. Door locked.

Air is pretty stale. Ugh. But it’s clean. Could definitely do with a recycle though.

1130

I don’t believe this.

This ship is from Earth!

Unless it was built by aliens that looked like us, followed the same basic aesthetics and design as us, and had the same word for “Toilet” as we do.

Speaking of which, back in a minute.

1138

Oh, that’s better.

1150

After some searching I’ve found the main console. Impressively, it still works. My thanks to the inventor of fusion power. That stuff lasts forever.

Took a little hunting through systems, but I  managed to turn the fans back on. Already cooling down in here, and the air’s starting to freshen up a bit.

I wonder if they’ve any food.

1151

Ah ha! A supply closet. I wonder what kind of supplies they – Oh my God.

1153

Well, this is definitely a human ship.

It appears though, that what they keep in their supply closets is, well, humans.

The universe is very ironic at times.

From the state of her (I think it’s a her, but I’m not really that knowledgeable on skeletons to be honest), I'm not sure if it was being kept there or... um... just rolled in there at some point. She seems pretty broken up about it.

I'm sorry, mystery skeleton. That was uncalled for.

I’ve politely shoved her to one side while I search for food.

1204

Nothing. Bugger. Oh well. Six hours to wait, and then I can go looking for my ship.

BEEP!

That came from the cockpit!

The screen is flashing. I must have triggered something.

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION>

__
WHO IS THIS? WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON OUR SHIP?

MARY? IS THAT YOU? WHY HAVEN’T YOU ANSWERED BEFORE NOW?

__

<END TRANSMISSION>

1210

Er, no, this isn’t Mary. Mary’s unavailable.

Who is this?

1240

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION>

__

IDENTIFY YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY. YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON NASA PROPERTY. SELF DESTRUCT SEQUENCE WILL DETONATE IN ONE HOUR IF YOU DO NOT VERIFY.
__

<END TRANSMISSION>

1241

What? NASA? Don’t blow me up! It’s me! From your stupid mission that landed me on this stupid pink planet!

1315

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION>

__

WELL, THIS IS AWKWARD.

__

<END TRANSMISSION>

Thirty-Fourth Entry

March 10^th, 2037

1100

Dear Space Diary.

Just about to open the ship’s door. So not looking forward to this.

Kidnapped by an alien creature, thrown into a rubbish dump (possibly accidentally), left to rot. I asked NASA to rescue me.

Instead, I’m asked if I wouldn’t mind hopping have a good old dig around in the garbage to see if I can find anything interesting.

They are going to have such a lawsuit on their hands when I get home.

Of course, first I have to get home. And who can do that?

NASA.

1105

So here I am. Standing on garbage.

At least I assume that it’s garbage. Basically a great big pile of rocks, though there are what looks like building struts poking out of the rubble here and there. Some of them are massive. Definitely weight to the idea that there’s something advanced around here. I don’t really see Lightdog building anything, but then, what do I know?

In keeping with the usual fetching colour scheme around here, most of the materials are pink. Guess it doesn’t wash out.

There are a few patches of what appear to be rotting plant matter as well, though it’s primarily rocks and stuff.

Oh, and there’s the smell. Let’s not forget the smell. The turnippy smell of the atmosphere has been mixed with rot, damp, and a rather dense dust to produce a smell not entirely dissimilar to the most disgusting thing you can imagine, only worse.

Next time, NASA, pack space suits. I really can’t stress this enough.

Hmm, speaking of space suits, I should probably get on with this and get back inside. Now, did NASA pack me a shovel?

1107

Of course they didn’t. Bare hands it is. Sigh.

1109

Well, at least this stuff is dry. It’s basically just sorting through rocks.

I’ve wandered over to one of the large pink struts that are sticking out of the rest of the pile. Going to dig it out and see how far it goes. It’s wedged in pretty good, which is probably just as well. It’s not a huge cave, relatively speaking, but the strut stretches all the way up to the roof.

1114

Hmm, this pile is a lot bigger than I thought. I’ve dug down a fair way and there’s no sign of either the end of the strut, or the bottom of the cave.

I wonder how long they’ve been dumping - hang on, what’s that noise?

1115

Well they’re certainly still dumping here, anyway. Nearly got flattened by a large pile of rocks that just dropped down the opening.

Oh well, at least they missed.

1116

What’s that noise?

1117

Forget that noise, why is the ground moving?

Crap, I think the pile’s about to -

1119

…Yep. It did. It gave way.

Everything’s been tossed around. I can see something silver over there though. Good. Have to get inside.

Just need to dig it out and…

1121

This isn’t my ship.

Thirty-Third Entry

March 10^th, 2037

0600

Dear Space Diary.

Another two hours, and I still don’t know where I’m being taken by Lightdog, or why.

On the bright side, NASA should be awake soon, so hopefully they’ll have some suggestions.

The horizon’s getting brighter; sun should be coming up in a few hours. Maybe then I’ll finally see where we’re going. I don’t know if this ship has enough solar power to last the night if I leave the headlights on, so I’ve been in the dark about where I’m being taken.

No pun intended.

0630

I think we’re slowing down. Don’t seem to be stopping just yet though.

0640

There we go, stopped. Now hanging in mid-air. I suppose that’s an improvement.

0650

Um, what now, Lightdog?

0700

Hello?

0730

Ok this is both weird, and kind of boring. If I’m going to be kidnapped by an alien life form it should at least be exciting.

I was half expecting to be taken to some kind of settlement, but there’s nothing much here. There does appear to be some caves below me, but they don’t look particularly big. Nothing else around in any direction, apart from the odd pink hill. Just me, the caves, and Lightdog.

0735

Actually Lightdog is looking somewhat the worse for wear. Much, much fainter than when I first saw him.

Maybe it doesn’t like the sun?

0800

Actually, now I look at it, I think it’s getting weaker. The brighter the sun gets, the fainter it gets.

Maybe we weren’t meant to stop here?

Hey, if so, this is great! All I have to do is wait until sun rise, and then hopefully it’ll get weak enough for me to escape!

Just have to be patient.

0830

Hurry up and die!

0845

Sun’s just about to rise I think. Lightdog is almost invisible now.

Hang on. The ship just shifted. I think its hold on the ship is going. I’m almost free!

0847

Hang on. If it lets go, and I’m in mid-air, then…

This is going to hurt.

0923

Yes, yes it did.

0930

So the good news is I’m no longer trapped in the invisible grip of Lightdog.

The bad news is that instead, I’m trapped in a cave. Dropped out of the sky, hit the ground, and rolled right in. Rolling down a small tunnel while inside a small spherical spaceship is not an experience I’d care to repeat.

What’s worse is I’m pretty sure I’ve gone round a few bends, so flying out of here is going to be difficult at best.

At least I can see. There’s a hole in the roof. Not large enough to fly through, sadly. But it lets in the light.

And where am I, exactly?

Well, it appears to be a giant rubbish pit.

I wonder if this could get any worse.

1023

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION>

__

YOU FOUND ALIEN REFUSE? THIS IS AMAZING! GET OUT THERE AND DIG AROUND IN IT.

__

<END TRANSMISSION>

1030

Sigh.