Eighteenth Entry

March 1^st, 2037

0730

Dear Space Diary.

I am not, in fact, dead, although if I had been it would have at least saved me the last 72 hours.

The ship smashed into the ground at approximately 1630 on February 25^th. According to the ship’s clock (which after the crash, I’m not entirely sure I trust, but that’s another matter) It’s now March 1^st.

On the bright side, the engines have stopped, meaning as far as crash landing into an unexplored alien world goes, I think we can consider it a success.

Ow, though. I think I must have hit my head on the way down. Hopefully the next prototype has airbags.

I spent a large amount of that time unconscious, and the rest of that time screaming at NASA to stop all their various attempts to communicate with me. Which I received perfectly. Including the twenty four hour siren they played at me.

Ow.

It’s a good thing you’re more than a solar system away, NASA, that’s all I’m saying.

But, I did at least get the communication system working again, which ironically meant that NASA have stopped talking to me. I consider that a win all round.

1030

NASA just asked me to send a detailed report of my surroundings, and have advised I have 48 hours to complete.

1035

Report done.

1045

Sent report to NASA. They’re probably not going to like it, but there’s not much I can do. See, I can’t actually see my surroundings. I’m surrounded by blackness. Camera’s down so all that I can see is out my window, which as I’ve indicated is not a lot.

Now, this is only a theory, but I think the ground was a lot softer than they had previously anticipated. Instead of merely hitting the ground I think the ship has gone straight through it. Which means I’m probably a long way underground. At the bottom of a very deep hole.

Great.

NASA if you get this, can you please confirm.

1300

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION>

PLEASE ENSURE THAT REQUESTED REPORTS MEET THE MINIMUM WORD COUNT.

FOR REFERENCE, THE MINIMUM WORD COUNT IS NOT “1”.

SCANNERS CONFIRMED YOUR THEORY. YOU ARE 300 FEET INTO CRUST OF THE PLANET. WORKING ON ADJUSTING MISSION PERAMETERS FOR EXPLORATION.

<END TRANSMISSION>

1330

NASA, I’m not exploring. You stuck me here, now get me home.

1340

Also: The Metric System. Look it up.