Dear Space Diary: March 2012

Friday, March 30, 2012

Seventy-Second Entry

March 14^th, 2037

1930

Dear Space Diary.

Everything’s a little calmer now. It’s been an interesting hour.

On the upside, I’ve run into Mary, the poor girl sent deliberately to Mars and accidentally here, who everyone thought must be dead. That’s a win. Especially for her.

On the downside, her entrance was rather shocking and unexpected.

I may have punched her in the face a little.

She took the punch quite well. In both senses. I think she realises that sneaking up behind someone who doesn’t know you’re alive is not necessarily the best of ideas.

Mary explained some of what had happened to her while I was searching for an ice pack. I couldn’t find one, so in the end I put some food paste in a towel and wrapped it up tight. That stuff is bloody cold.

It did the trick, there doesn’t seem to be any bruising. She’s taking a shower now to wash the paste off.

She doesn’t remember a whole lot of the voyage itself after her final log to NASA, it had all kind of blurred together. The first proper thing she can remember is the crash itself, which was as memorable as crashing into planets usually is. Which is to say, very memorable.

The lightdogs were triggered by the crash, and a few hours after landing all got up and left, leaving her alone.

Two weeks later she got up the courage to venture out and follow them. I assume she brought a space suit, or the lead in the atmosphere would have finished her off.

After several days of walking, she found the beginnings of the city.

Excited, she hiked back to the Zubrin, and managed to pilot it into the city, where she planned to wait for any rescue from NASA.

Whereupon a yellow lightdog promptly towed the ship away and threw it in the garbage.

And she’s been stranded in the city ever since. Until I arrived.

She was very grateful to find her ship had been brought back. Even more grateful to learn that rescue is in fact on the way. She’s even less keen on dealing with NASA than I am, but after 15 years adrift and 2 years marooned, she’s very ready to go home.

She was a bit miffed that I took the batteries out of SupaNovey though. We’ll have to disagree on that one.

There are some things I still don’t understand, like where the lightdogs went, why Mary still looks so young (she doesn’t look older than mid-twenties), and near the top of the list, whose skeleton I’ve been sharing a ship with (Mary has no idea either, she suggested a stow away, but 20 years is a lot of stowing).

But I’m just about ready to file those in the “no longer care” box. Mary’s going to help dig out my spaceship from under the Zubrin and then I can finally go home.

It’s nice that -

“Do you always talk to yourself?”

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Seventy-First Entry

March 14^th, 2037

1800

Dear Space Diary.

I think I’ve finally found my spaceship. The tracking device is going mental.

Only problem is, it’s going mental whenever I point it straight down.

At the floor.

Which is down.

Where it usually is.

Mind you, everything is REALLY crumbly around here. The lightdogs were building to Mars specifications when they made this city. Sadly Splat’s building materials didn’t really measure up to the job.

I’ve already knocked down a building just by running through the wrong wall. And I know I’ve probably gained a few pounds, but I still weigh a LOT less than your average spaceship.

It’s entirely possible that my spaceship got sucked up the recycling tube, spat out onto the floor, promptly smashed right through the floor, and then got freshly plastered over by an oh so helpful blue lightdog. Possibly even the very one that was trying to repair the roof.

I feel better about throwing rocks at it now.

And then the Zubrin didn’t share the same fate… because it landed on top of my spaceship.

So I have two problems.

One. My spaceship is currently buried in a pink cement floor.

Second. My spaceship is under another spaceship.

I should probably solve those in reverse order.

1806

Urrrrgggggghhhh! Hynnnnnnnnnh! Yeeeeeeeeuuuurrrraaggghg!

It’s no good. I can’t shift it.

Gravity is less on Splat than on Earth. I could roll my spaceship around with a good enough push, but the Zubrin is more than double the size, with such luxuries as a shower and more than one room. There’s no way I could move it on my own.

Ok, let’s tackle them in sequential order instead.

1815

Well, say what else you like about NASA and their strange packing plans, they have at least helped me now. Found a shovel in cupboard number 2.

Oh, and a supply of fresh batteries.

You could have mentioned that before, guys.

Oh well, at least if I run out I have more. I could even put some batteries back into Supernovey.

I could. But I won’t.

So, as soon as I work out a way to get the Zubrin out of the way, I can at least have my ship dug out in a couple of days.

Sounds like a fun way to spend the weekend.

1820

Back outside. Seeing if I can wedge the shovel in under the Zubrin and lever it out of the way. Think it’s still going to be too heavy, but I should at least try.

1823

This floor is weak. Like, really weak. It crumbles pretty much as soon as I touch it with the shovel. Can’t get a good hold under the Zubrin.

CLANG

…but it just hit something metal under the floor. Man that’s a good sound. My ship really is down there.

Heavy be damned, I HAVE to get the Zubrin off there. I’m so close to freedom!

Ok, slide the shovel under, and, then carefully, carefully…

“Need a hand?”

…Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Seventieth Entry

March 14^th, 2037

1540

Dear Space Diary.

Just put the SuperNovey^TM batteries into the tracker. Even if this doesn’t work, at least it’ll shut that thing up. Either way, I consider this a win.

1542

Come on, come on…

1543

Lights are flashing.

1557

Green light is on! No red light though. Hope my ship’s not out of range. I’ll never find it then. How far could it have gone? It’s not like it could have flown itself.

But somebody else could have…

Hmmm.

Ok, less overreacting. It’s probably just far away.

1558

Oh hang on, it just flashed. Once.

1559

And it’s gone again.

1600

Back.

1601

Gone.

1602

Back. My ship must be really far away.

Waving the tracker around a bit. Nothing. Odd. It’s meant to turn on and stay on if I’m facing the right direction.

Maybe I need to get closer. Guess I better starting walking.

1610

This city is actually pretty creepy without all the lightdogs. Well, it was creepy before. But now it’s extra creepy. Whole place is empty. Like a ghost town.

Note to self. Do not use word “ghost.” Ever. Again.

1620

Been walking in a straight line.

Nothing. No response from the tracker. Green light is on so I know it’s talking to the satellite. Red light isn’t flashing at all now.

Ok, left turn.

1625

Nope. Another Left.

1630

It’s on! The red light is on! I better test it.

Aim to the left, red light goes off.

Aim back straight ahead, light back on.

To the right. Off.

Back to centre.

On.

It’s found it! I just have to keep walking and it will lead me…

1650

…right back to where I started.

I don’t. Believe this. I launch a satellite, I nearly blow myself up a couple of times, I DID blow up a roof, and I stole batteries from an officially licensed NASA product, and for what?

In order to find my way back to the ship I was already in.

Outstanding. Just. Outstanding.

That’s ok. Keep calm. You’ll find another way.

1652

AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

1702

Ok. I’m sane again.

1708

Messaged NASA and asked them why off Earth they would program a lightdog to track the ship I HAD ALREADY FOUND. Their response better be a good one.

1740

INCOMING TRANSMISSION

THE ZUBRIN DOESN’T HAVE A TRACKING DEVICE.

THIS IS WHY WE SENT YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE. IF WE HAD A TRACKING DEVICE ON THE ZUBRIN, WE WOULD HAVE SENT BOBO THE WONDER DOG INSTEAD OF YOU. HE’S BETTER BEHAVED. WHY ELSE DO YOU THINK WE HAD PETA BAN ANIMALS IN SPACE FLIGHT?

I’M GOING HOME FOR THE NIGHT. IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS, PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE BEEP.

…YOU’LL NOTICE THERE WASN’T A BEEP.

END TRANSMISSION

1745

…NASA are as charming as always.

But I don’t get it. If not the Zubrin, what is it tracking?

1750

That’s weird. The Tracking device is going mental. But it’s pointing straight…

…Down.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Sixty-Ninth Entry

March 14^th, 2037

1340

Dear Space Diary.

What, would you say, is the most pressing concern if you’re stranded on an alien planet with a mysterious city, a skeleton suffering an identity crisis, a large amount of (currently absent) maintenance robots, and a missing spaceship?

Food? Water?

As it turns out, no. The Zubrin has both in near infinite supply. As long as you don’t mind paste.

Heat?

Again, spaceship. Or indeed spacesuit. Even if I were stuck outside, it’s not especially cold out. Quite pleasant.

Except for the lead based atmosphere. That’s less pleasant.

So what’s my most pressing concern? Batteries.

Yup.

1400

And we don’t seem to have any. At all. Without them, I can’t track down the location of my missing ship.

The only thing around that I’ve seen with batteries are the lightdogs, and they’ve all gone walkies and I haven’t seen any in ages. Apart from two. One of those I brainwashed and sent into orbit. The other I threw a rock at.

So my track record there isn’t brilliant.

1410

Asked NASA if we have any batteries. While I wait, I’m having a hunt through the cupboard.

1415

Wow, NASA really packs a lot of junk on their missions.

So far, I’ve found.

An Exercise Bike

An issue of SPACE! – The Official NASA Inflight Magazine, dated February 29^th, 2010

A collection of herbal shampoos

A plush toy of SuperNovey^TM, NASA’s official mascot

24 Notepads

No Pens

Great collection, NASA. Really. Great.

1417

Actually the shampoos look rather good.

1425

Had a bit of a scout round the cargo bay in the hope that one of the lightdogs got left behind when they all switched on, but no luck there.

Even if I had a charger that’d be something, but can’t find one anywhere. I think there’s a power socket around here somewhere.

Hmm. Wonder how they expected anyone to use the exercise bike in zero gravity. Must have been for when Mary landed.

1500

No response from NASA yet. They’re normally pretty punctual.

When they feel like it.

Which is almost never.

Still, I’m hoping they’ve put the batteries in some obscure place I haven’t looked yet, so at least I won’t feel so bad for not finding it.

1530

Still no response.

On the plus side, this Inflight Magazine is actually better than I thought it would be.

Suppose there’s nothing else to do but sit down and read.

SQUEAK

Whoops, just sat on SuperNovey.

…The question I have to ask at this point though is why would you make a toy Supernova that squeaks?

Actually, why would you make a toy Supernova?

Hmm. It has a button that says “Press Me.”

Hard to argue with that.

1532

Wow. It just told me its name was SuperNovey, that it saw great things in the stars for me, and that SuperNovey is trademarked internationally.

Ugh.

Oh, and now it’s telling me I should donate to NASA.

Stupid gimmicky battery powered piece of…

1535

YES!

Monday, March 26, 2012

Sixty-Eighth Entry

March 14^th, 2037

1201

Dear Space Diary.

They'll have to come up with a new definition of “bad” to describe the luck that I'm having.

All I want to do is launch one little GPS tracking satellite using only duct tape and salvaged robotics. Is that too much to ask?

Less monologue, more action! One more beep and that missile's out of here!

Just have to hope I can reach it in time.

CLICK

Argh! That light's bright. Still, the lightdog's on. And it seems signal based lightdogs are purple.

No time, just jump in a direction. Any direction.

Need to get far enough -

BEEP.

…

FWOOSH

1203

Can see again. And it's off. The missile is shooting into the atmosphere as I watch. Due to the low gravity, it'll get a lot further than on Earth. On Earth it wouldn't even get halfway, but here, it'll get to low orbit before it runs out of fuel.

I hope.

Or possibly it'll get too far, drift into space, and I'll be able to have years of fun tracking it as it drifts further and further away and I'm stuck here searching for a spaceship in a giant pink haystack.

1206

I really do have a knack with this whole worst case scenario thing don't I.

1215

Can't see the missile anymore. Hard to tell, anyway. The sun's pretty bright.

I've been looking over the tracking device. Aside from it's worrying similarity to a remote control for a toy car it looks fairly straightforward. A red light flashes when there's an active tracking signal nearby, and stays on when I'm pointing directly at it. Next to it is a green light if it has a current connection to the GPS. There are two levers I can twiddle to try to adjust the signal if required.

Effectively as follows:

Green light on. Good.

Green light off. Bad.

Red light on: Very good.

Red light flashing: Kinda good.

Red light off: Bad.

Both lights off: Check batteries.

I've just put in the batteries from the lightdog I destroyed while it was helpfully trying to repair the roof. I did try and fix it, but it seems I hit it good and proper, no turning it off and on again for Blue.

Feel pretty bad about that, actually. I killed it.

And no other lightdogs around to repair the roof, so looks like the sun roof is staying.

Note to self: stop destroying things.

1220

Let's give it a shot. No idea how long it'll take for the satellite to reach orbit, but I'm getting bored and I don't feel like lunch yet, so let's try.

1222

Turned it on. Both lights flashed on, paused, then turned off again. Green light is blinking occasionally.

Guess there's no signal yet.

1230

Nothing.

1240

Still nothing. Going to eat.

1254

A signal! The satellite is working! Green is on! Green is on! Green is... fading?

1255

Fading.

1256

Off.

1258

Batteries are flat.

...Sigh.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Sixty-Seventh Entry

March 14^th, 2037

1152

Dear Space Diary.

About to have defeat snatched from the jaws of victory. My makeshift satellite is ready for launch. in fact it's in the process of launching.

The lightdog I strapped to it has been reprogrammed to broadcast and receive tracking signals from a tracking device I found in the supply cupboard, in effect making it both a tracker and a GPS.

Combined with it's soon to be new home in near orbit, this will hopefully lead me straight to the tracking signal emitting from my spacecraft, last seen disappearing up a giant metal tube and ending up... somewhere around here. But I don't know where. Given how crumbly everything is, combined with a mindless unstoppable cleaning crew, normal barriers such as walls or clear entry and exit points don't especially apply. My ship could literally be right under my nose and I'd never know it.

So launching this missile is about the best and only chance of finding my ship this decade.

And that bloody blue lightdog is about to block up the hole the missile needs to go launch through!

BEEP.

That's 5 beeps. Halfway to launch. Blue is about a third of the way through repairing the roof.

It's doing quite a good job, I can barely tell the roof had ever been destroyed after Blue's passed over it. I'd commend it if I wasn't trying to kill it.

That's a bit extreme. I don't want to kill Blue.

Just maim it.

1155

BEEP.

6 beeps. It's halfway through repairing the roof. I've moved the missile across to the far end of the hole, but he's going to finish before the 10^th and final beep.

I don't know how to stop it though. It's too high to climb, and by the time I found a way up there, it'll probably be next week. I could just blow the roof over again, but I don't want to waste the last missile.

Also I really don't want to keep pulling missiles out of rocket launchers. Like, really not.

So what do I do? I can't just throw rocks at it.

...Actually that's probably my best shot. Where's a rock?

1157

BEEP

About two thirds across now, with three beeps to go.

Broke a few of chunks off the building outside the door. City was still deserted. Blue seems to be the last lightdog around. Joy.

I hope I can do this in three throws. I don't have time to find more.

Ok, throw number 1.

...that was terrible. Hit the roof. I'm not even going to count that one. Try again.

Throw number 1.

...Ok, that was better. Actually went through the hole. The low gravity helps.

Still missed, though.

Throw 2.

BEEP

Blast! The beep made me jump. Missed again.

Last one. Throw 3.

...YES! TOUCH DOWN! HOME RUN! SPORTS METAPHORS!

Clean thwacked Blue with the chunk. It's totally disabled.

BEEP

One more beep and...

...I haven't turned the lightdog back on yet.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Sixty-Sixth Entry

March 14^th, 2037

1000

Dear Space Diary.

Heading back to the Zubrin. Been a bit of a trek but it looks like I’m almost ready to... Hey! Come back!

1015

Blasted thing. A yellow lightdog must have found my missile and was busily carting it away, presumably to the rubbish pit. I can only imagine what would have happened when it merrily tossed it away.

Got it back. The lightdog resisted a couple of times, then gave up and is heading away. I’m guessing to the other lightdogs. It looks like there are a few stragglers around though finishing up other tasks. I should keep an eye out. Don’t really want anything unexpected to happen while messing around with the missile.

1025

Ok, back outside the Zubrin. Setting up the launch site.

Step 1: Duct tape lightdog to the missile.

Done.

Step 2: Reprogram lightdog with the USB data NASA provided.

Hmm. Appear to have taped over the USB slot. Oops.

1027

Ok, Step One: Un-duct tape lightdog from the missile.

Done.

Step 2: Reprogram lightdog with the USB data NASA provided.

Done.

Step 3: Re-duct tape lightdog to the missile.

Done.

1035

Right. Now it gets a little dangerous.

Step 4: DO NOT PRESS THE ARM BUTTON.

Done.

Step 5: Stand missile upright.

Done.

Step 6: Press the launch button.

Done.

Step 7: Stand back.

And... done!

It’s beeping away merrily. As soon as it reaches ten beeps, it’ll fire straight upwards.

...Into the roof.

...Bugger.

Step 8: QUICKLY PRESS THE LAUNCH BUTTON TO CANCEL.

Done. And just in time.

Ok, I have to get outside somehow.

...But I’m pretty sure the entire city is sealed under the dome. I haven’t seen a single door in my travels. The only way out is down the tubes, and I have nowhere near that much time or patience to trek all the way back to the rubbish pit.

If only the roof opened. This room is sealed from the main city, wouldn’t cause any damage if the roof wasn’t there.

...wouldn’t cause any damage, huh?

1103

Can’t believe I’m doing this again. Reaching into the missile launcher, trying to pull out another missile. This’d be a lot easier if NASA had just designed these things to fire upwards. Sigh.

1130

Never doing that again. I hope. But I got another one out.

Ok, let’s launch this... hmm.

1138

Moved the lightdog/missile inside. Don’t want it being hit by anything.

Now, step 1: Stand the missile upright.

Step 2: Press the Arm button.

Step 3: Freak out a little.

Step 4: Press Launch Button.

Step 5: Run and hide in the corner.

FWOOOOSH...

BANG

Man that’s loud when you’re this close. But the roof is, well gone. Completely. I’m looking up at the sky right now.

1145

Step 1: ...oh forget it. Step 1: Do everything I need to do.

1150

Done!

Missile is beeping slowly. At 10 it’ll launch. 2, 3, 4...

1151

...BLUE!

...DON’T YOU DARE REPAIR THAT ROOF!

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Sixty-Fifth Entry

March 14^th, 2037

0855

Dear Space Diary.

I have a high intensity explosive device capable of destroying targets up to 50 times its size.

At least, that's what the manual says.

I also have an industry grade adhesive device (grey), with strong lasting power and a wide variety of uses.

At least, that's what the manual says. (Yes, NASA have written a manual for Duct Tape. I wish I was joking, I really do.)

So, missile: check. Duct Tape: check. All I need now is a lightdog.

And preferably a pair of sunglasses.

0915

Found some sunglasses (or Glare Avoidance Devices according to – yes. They wrote one). Not sure they'll help, but at least I'm cool now.

Well, cooler.

No, just cool.

Ok, let's go hunting.

0945

Actually taking me longer than I expected. There's been quite a few lightdogs around every time I've ventured out, but it's completely deserted now. I wonder where they went? Maybe they found a really interesting rock to take to the rubbish pile.

Or maybe they found a really interesting space ship to take to the rubbish pile.

There's a worrying thought. I need to get this tracker working ASAP.

Either way, they're gone. Oh wait, there's two.

0947

It's Green and Blue. Green's been reprogrammed, so I guess he didn't get whatever call the others got, and Blue's far too busy cleaning up after Green. Maybe they're the last two ones here.

Hmm. Well, this is a good opportunity to fix a previous unintended side effect. Come here, Green.

0950

Bloody thing. It's not that he's avoiding me, more that he's completely ignoring me. And Blue's very close behind him, so I've got to keep moving or he'll try and fix the holes Green is making while I'm still in them. And I don't dare stand in front of Green, or he might decide I'm something that needs to be cut up and processed.

I don't want to be cut up and processed.

I know he's avoided me before, but I don't want to risk it.

0953

Now, if I remember correctly, the off switch was towards the bottom of the lightdogs. Just need to reach into the burning ball of light and hit the switch.

I'm not entirely pleased with how often NASA's plans seem to involve me reaching in to dangerous things to do something dangerous. This is the 2^nd time today.

Oh well, I didn't die a horrible, agonising death last time.

0956

It's actually not that bad. I mean it's hot to be sure, and I'd rather not leave my hand inside a lightdog while trying to walk at the same pace as it, but there is a distinct lack of searing burning pain. Which is generally a good thing.

Ok, nearly got it.

0958

And...

CLICK

...done! It's switched off.

Blue's just finished repairing the last wall. Now it's just sitting there.

The cycle of destruction is over.

Now to launch a poor defenceless robot into orbit.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Sixty-Fourth Entry

March 14^th, 2037

0630

Dear Space Diary.

Launch day!

Sort of.

Spent a few hours last night hunting for duct tape. Sounds easy enough to find, but if you’re a few systems away from the nearest hardware store it’s harder than you’d think.

NASA assured me the Zubrin definitely had some though, and I was eventually able to find a roll that had, well, rolled under the computer. Looks pretty full too, so hopefully it’ll be enough.

It was getting pretty light at this point of the evening (stupid 45 hour day) but I had an early ‘night’, as for the next task I wanted to be as wide awake as I possibly could.

That's right. Time to start messing with high explosives.

Anything for a quiet life.

0650

Ok. On top of the Zubrin. The missiles fire from a built-in launcher just above the front windscreen. There's two. NASA advised only 4 missiles were packed, (why they packed them at all is a conversation we'll have later) so I've got 3 left to play with.

Peering into the launch mechanisms (that wasn't terrifying at all...) I think the right one must have fired, as the left has a missile ready and waiting. If I reach in, I should be able pull it out. Simple.

Just reach right in. No trouble.

All I have to do. Pull it out. Easy as pie.

Explosive, dangerous pie.

Just go for it. Here I go.

0750

Any second now.

0800

I'm really not comfortable about this. Hang on.

0830

Have switched off the Zubrin's generator. Possibly a bit extreme but without the computer to arm it, the only way it'll detonate is if I hit a manual Arm switch.

By, you know, pressing it accidentally while trying to pull the missile out.

Sigh. I guess I better get on with it.

0837

Ok, here we go.

Arm going in.

0839

Got it! I've got a grip on the missile.

Doesn't feel like I've inadvertently pressed any “explode” buttons. Ok, now carefully draw it out...

0840

Careful... careful... It's almost out...

0842

ARGH! I DROPPED IT! I'M GOING TO DIE!

0845

...or not. I appear to have avoided an explosive finale to my adventures. It's just kind of sitting there.

Kind of looks harmless now.

Climbing down to take a look.

0847

IT BEEPED! I REALLY AM GOING TO DIE!

0852

...Maybe I should talk to someone about this overreacting thing I've got going.

Ok, the missile doesn't appear to be exploding any time soon. Seems simple enough design. There's an Arm button near the top and a Rocket button near the button. Unless I press the Arm button, the missile will just fly away and bounce off things.

Ok, so all I need to do is reprogram a lightdog with a USB, stick it to the missile, and launch it in to the atmosphere, where it will function as a GPS for my tracking device. Piece of cake.

Dangerous, explosive cake.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Sixty-Third Entry

March 13^th, 2037

1300

Dear Space Diary.

No further communication from NASA. They appear to be as in the dark on this one as I am.

The skeleton in the closet (I moved it to the closet. It was creeping me out.) is not who I thought it was.

Maybe.

It appears to be the skeleton of a 17 year old girl. Whereas I should be looking for approximately a 35-40 year old skeleton.

But yet, in all other respects, it matches Mary's own skeleton. So what's going on? Who was it? Did they stow away on the ship? For 20 years? Why would they do that?

And... if that's not Mary, then where IS Mary?

It's entirely possible that Mary might not be dead. Which could explain why the system applied her name to the various rooms.

On the other hand it's entirely possible that Mary is still dead, but elsewhere.

It concerns me greatly that this skeleton isn't Mary. I gave her a funeral! And it wasn't even her!

It's disconcerting to not know who's decomposed head you've used as a utensil.

As is that sentence. In every way imaginable.

Either way, I might not be alone out there. That's either very reassuring, or downright terrifying.

Well, asking questions to this log isn't going to solve anything. (Unless NASA feel like contributing? No? Thought not.) I should go out and keep searching for my ship and get out of here. At the same time, I can hopefully find out something about who my unexpected companion is.

No time to waste!

1305

Hang on, it's lunch time.

1320

Hmm. This table is a little wobbly.

1333

Oh hey, I never finished that crossword.

1600

Rather successfully wasted all the time I didn't have. Better get a move on.

1630

Decided I should continue my plan from yesterday, and head in a straight line, keeping an eye out for any signs of my spaceship. Not very likely as I'm pretty sure the Blues will have tidied them all away, but it's about the best chance I've got of finding it before the rescue craft gets here. I could just go home with them, but I don't think NASA will be especially pleased they have to go scouring all over the planet looking for it's homing beacon.

...There's an idea.

1715

Back in the Zubrin again. I'm not procrastinating, I promise.

NASA are working on my suggestion to help me create a localised tracker for the ship's homing beacon. If we succeed, I don't need to search for it, I can just head straight to it.

NASA are having a little difficulty in creating a GPS system for a planet that doesn't have a global positioning satellite in orbit around it. That's a bit of a deal breaker apparently.

1745

INCOMING TRANSMISSION

WE HAVE A SOLUTION. WE'RE GOING TO NEED A LIGHTDOG, A MISSILE, AND SOME DUCT TAPE.

END TRANSMISSION

1748

...I think I'm going to like this plan.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Sixty-Second Entry

March 13^th, 2037

0910

Dear Space Diary.

…What?

You’re right, NASA. I don’t understand. How could I understand? What do you mean that isn’t Mary? Who else could it be?

0940

WE DO NOT KNOW. ALL WE CAN SAY IS THAT SKELETON CANNOT BELONG TO MARY. UNLESS SHE HAS MAGIC POWERS.

0942

Magic Powers?

1010

YES. MAGIC POWERS.

I BELIEVE WE’VE SPOKEN TO YOU ABOUT YOUR USE OF SINGLE SENTENCE QUESTIONS IN OUR CONVERSATION. IT TAKES HALF AN HOUR TO GET A RESPONSE BACK TO YOU. IF THE ENTIRE CONVERSATION IS A SERIES OF YES/NO ANSWERS, THIS WILL – QUITE LITERALLY – TAKE ALL DAY.

PLEASE SEE ATTACHED X-RAY. THIS WAS TAKEN BY NASA DURING ROUTINE MEDICAL CHECK-UPS FOR MARY SHORTLY BEFORE HER DEPARTURE.

YOU WILL NOTICE SOMETHING STRANGE.

1015

Hmm. Well, it’s a skeleton alright. And it looks pretty much identical to the one lying in the corner over there. Not sure what NASA expected me to find.

I should ask… oh hang on, another message.

WE TOOK THE LIBERTY OF ASSUMING YOU MANAGED TO OVERLOOK THE GLARINGLY OBVIOUS DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE X-RAY AND MARY’S SKELETON AND SENT THIS MESSAGE ANYWAY BEFORE YOU HAD A CHANCE TO ASK.

THE SKELETONS ARE, FOR THE MOST PART, ENTIRELY IDENTICAL. BONE SIZE AND STRUCTURE IS A NEAR PERFECT MATCH TO OUR RECORDS FROM HER ORIGINAL TESTS.

(That’s what I said! They’re perfectly identical!)

HOWEVER, THIS IS ACTUALLY THE PROBLEM. THE SKELETON YOU HAVE THERE IS FROM A HEALTHY 17 YEAR OLD GIRL.

YET, IT TOOK AROUND 20 YEARS FOR MARY TO REACH THE PLANET SPLAT. AND WE KNOW SHE WAS ALIVE AT LEAST FIVE YEARS AFTER SHE LEFT. YOUR EVIDENCE WITH THE ROOM NAMES, WHILE NOT CONCLUSIVE, DOES SUGGEST SHE WAS ALIVE UNTIL WELL AFTER THE CRASH.

SO THAT SKELETON SHOULD BE APPROXIMATELY 40 YEARS OLD. BUT OUR ANALYSIS SHOWS IT COULDN’T BE MORE THAN 20.

1025

…Well, I don’t know, NASA. I know you’ve got your records, but it doesn’t sound very conclusive to me. Your analysis is being done on a photo of a skeleton, taken by me, and then electronically transmitted light years across the galaxy to you, where you check it against a 20 year old photo. There’s bound to be some loss of accuracy. Are you sure about this?

1050

FINE. WE’LL ACCEPT THAT’S A POSSIBILITY.

THEN CONSIDER ANOTHER FACT. THE 20 YEAR OLD X-RAY HAS SEVERAL METAL PINS INSERTED IN A FRACTURE IN THE LEFT LEG, AND A METAL PLATE IN HER SKULL FROM AN ACCIDENT WITH A SHOPPING TROLLEY, A HILL, AND GRAVITY. YOUR SKELETON HAS A PERFECTLY FORMED LEFT LEG AND HEAD, WITH NO FRACTURE, PLATE, PINS, OR ANY EVIDENCE TO SUGGEST THEM.

WE WIN.

1055

…You didn’t want to mention that before the rather tenuous age difference?

1130

THIS WAY WAS MORE FUN.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Sixty-First Entry

March 12^th, 2037

2100

Dear Space Diary

All jokes aside, this is really rather unsettling. I can’t quite… Astronomical. Hehehe.

Ahem. Anyway.

It’s getting late. I should ask NASA if they have any insight into this. they’re about fifteen years behind in terms of logs, given Mary stopped sending them, but still. Maybe they can think of something. Or do a scan for weird stuff. Can they scan for that?

2107

Heading downstairs. Mary’s room is about five floors above me, so that means I’ve got… what?

2110

This room has Mary’s name on it too!

2115

And this one!

2133

The whole building. Every last room. Belongs to Mary.

What is going on? Why are all these rooms assigned to Mary? What were you up to, NASA?

2155

No time to explore every room of every building, but I’ve checked out a couple more. All the buildings I went in to had the name Mary on the name plates.

Either Mary needs a lot of personal space, or… I don’t know the or, actually.

I shouldn’t panic. It’s entirely possible there’s a reasonable, bizarre, yet plausible explanation for this, probably born out of bureaucracy, incompetence, negligence, or just plain stupidity. Yeah. That must be. NASA will know what’s going on. This is their city, after all.

2215

Back at the ship. Just forwarding the logs to NASA now, and then they’ll make everything clear.

2245

WE GOT NOTHING.

2250

…Great.

I’m going to bed.

March 13^th, 2037

0810

Woke up. It’s still dark out (will be for another 12 hours or so), but it’s technically morning, if you go by Earth time. Paste for breakfast.

There’s a depressing sentence.

NASA sent me through a large, fairly convoluted series of blue prints. These appear to be the designs that are hardcoded into the Lightdogs. Interestingly, it’s not the blue ones that do the building. They’re just the maintenance guys. Apparently the builders are white. Haven’t seen any of them yet, but then, the city looks pretty much complete over here.

Apart from the lack of water and food. You know, inessential stuff.

All NASA’s message said when they sent the files was “Page 997”. Ok, let’s take a look…

0822

Ah ha! I knew it was simple. The city is hard wired to dole out accommodation to registered travellers. Due to a bug in the programming (which they’ve highlighted for future repair), in the event that there are less travellers than rooms, it simply goes back to the top of the list and keeps allocating.

And with Mary the only “Registered” traveller in the system so far, she now owns every single room in the entire city. Posthumously.

Hurrah!

WE’RE WORRIED.

It’s ok NASA, I read your report. It all makes sense.

0900

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. WE’VE BEEN LOOKING AT THE PHOTOS OF MARY’S SKELETON YOU SENT US.

AND THAT’S NOT MARY.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Sixtieth Entry

March 12^th, 2037

2040

Dear Space Diary

Officially a little freaked out.

Literally. I’m noting it in this log. Freaked out. Officially. It’s official. I’m freaked out. Freaked out. I am.

2050

Ok, coherency would be good at this point I think. Deep breaths.

It’s entirely possible I’m overreacting. If I were being honest with myself I perhaps have a tendency to do that. It was in my yearbook and everything. “Scream first. Ask questions later.”

Which was a bit of an exaggeration. But anyway. I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for this.

Option A: It is entirely possible, after all, that there could be two people named Mary. That happens on Earth all the time.

There. That’s rational. It’s less possible, I agree, that there could be two people named Mary in an otherwise uninhabited city on a planet far distant from our own where there are only two recorded people to have ever set foot here, and one of them is most definitely not named Mary.

…On to option B.

Option B: If we accept the hypothesis that Mary survived the crash and spent some time still alive on Splat, including the occupation of a bedroom. It is not a great extension of that to allow for the possibility that Mary could have had TWO bedrooms.

Again, rational. Except the original hypothesis means that Mary had to stay alive long enough for the city to be built, which would be a decent amount of time. NASA estimated the ship crashed here at least 18 months ago. Which is a short time to build a city in, but a long time to be stranded on an alien planet.

…I better not be stuck here for 18 months. Otherwise NASA are going to get some very irate voice mails.

The other thing - and this is probably a small niggle, but a weird one nonetheless - is this. Say Mary did survive 18 months (which I guess she could have done given the near unlimited supply of food), why would she then move to a building that – while it contained a comfortable bed and modular reading chair with included desk light at no extra cost (there’s a pamphlet here) – contained no food supply? I’ve seen no evidence of any food out here. And I don’t even know how she got up here; the Zubrin was found hours away in a rubbish dump. Unless the ship has been moved since she got here (which isn’t out of the question, closer to the city would seem likely), the commute for food would be a fair hike.

And then, if we allow all that, why move to another building even further away, that still doesn’t have a food supply?

Or indeed, plumbing. I mean, there’s a shower, but I’m guessing they’re missing whatever it is Mars had that enabled them to provide running water.

Either that or she didn’t pay her water bill. I imagine the regional rates out here are… ahem.

Astronomical.