Fifty-Third Entry

March 12^th, 2037

0800

Dear Space Diary,

So I’m not as stuck here as I previously thought.

NASA and I conversed for another hour or so after my last entry. They confirmed my actual mission (which the assure me they were going to tell me about, like, really soon) was to evaluate the city, find Mary, and get back home again.

My ship actually has the luxuries of both a) faster than light travel, and b) brakes, and could in fact get me back to Earth in as little as five weeks.

A repair ship is really, actually, on its way, but it was never intended to pick me up, rather being reserved for the Zubrin and Mary, once I found them. I was to fly back on my own.

Which, as it turns out, I could have done any time. But they wanted me to find Mary before they clued me in on that little fact.

Now that I have been clued in, I took the opportunity to clue them in as to my opinion on the whole matter. Words were used. Ones I choose not to repeat.

The problem with shouting at someone who’s about ten light years away is that it takes about half an hour for a response to reach you, so by the time they react to your outburst you’ve gotten over it already, which makes their eventual apology hugely unsatisfying.

But, NASA did confirm that now that I have found Mary, or what’s left of her, I am free to depart. All they ask is I park the Zubrin somewhere safe but easy to access, set a homing beacon on it, and turn the lights off before I leave.

Then I’m free to fly home in my ship, and finally I will be OH CRAP WHERE IS MY SHIP?

I don’t know where my ship is. Like, at all. It went up the tube, and it wasn’t here when I caught up. Either it’s not here any longer, or it’s gone.

Should probably rephrase that.

Either it ended up somewhere else (pretty unlikely given I didn’t see any other exits to the tube), or… it’s been moved.

By the lightdogs? Possible I guess, although given what I know about their programming I would have expected them to have thrown it straight back on the rubbish heap.

Which, actually, they could have done.

But before I go trekking all the way back down there again; I should take a look around the city. It could be up here, after all.

So close to home, and yet so far! Mind you, by close, I mean ten light years. And by far, I mean however long it takes to walk to my ship, then ten light years.

Now that I think about it, the difference between close and far is fairly moot.

Time to take a look outside.

0810

Opening door.

0812

Oh, that’s right… Giant building blocking the only exit.

It’s all coming back to me.