Fifty-Seventh Entry

March 12^th, 2037

1510

Dear Space Diary

With Blue and Green successfully destroying and rebuilding the city at a fairly constant rate, I’m free to try and track down my space ship.

Although NASA have assured me that the air inside the city’s dome is breathable and quite safe, I’m taking the space suit. One crack in the dome and suddenly I’m very subtly breathing lead.

I’d prefer not to be breathing lead.

The other advantage is that in a space suit (and I’m phrasing this as tactfully as I can) food and waste management systems are built in, meaning I can be out for longer without having to make a return trip.

1530

Just about to head out. NASA sent me a quick message asking me to bring a camera and take pictures of the city as I explore, in the hope that this will appease their employers, and potentially encourage them to pay overdue invoices.

I’m inclined to point out that if they haven’t paid in 20 years they’re unlikely to pay now, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a few pictures for them.

I must be going soft in my old age.

Just waiting for a reply from NASA, and then I can – oh here it is.

1534

…Are you KIDDING me?

I need to find my ship. I can’t go home without it. NASA knows this. So what do they ask me to do?

Perform an autopsy.

Well, ok, that’s a bit dramatic. But they’d like me to collect and account for Mary’s remains, photograph them, and send them a report.

Can think of few things I’d rather be doing less.

You know what? Fine. I’ll assemble Mary for you, but then I’m off to find my ship, and you’re on your own.

1540

Ok, let’s track these down. Everything got a bit scattered in the - several - crashes that I’ve been through since finding the Zubrin. But it shouldn’t be too hard. How many bones can there be?

1544

206. Damn.

1547

There’s Mary’s skull. That’s a good start. She looks pleased to see me. She can’t stop grinning.

Ok, tasteless humour stopping in, 3, 2, 1. And I’m done.

1603

The foot bone’s connected to the… ankle bone.

The ankle bone’s connected to the… leg bone.

The leg bone’s connected to the… arm bone… bugger.

1623

Dem bones, dem bones, dem, dry bones…

1635

Ok. At last. Done. That took way longer than I wanted. At least Mary has a bit of dignity, or something.

Photo taken, I’ll scan it in to NASA, and then I’m out of here.

Mary’s just lying on the floor in the corner now. Feels kind of odd. I wonder if I should say some words.

1645

Ok, well, I never met you Mary. You know, while you were alive. But, your ship saved my life. Thank you.

Also, I’m sorry I used your head as a pair of tweezers. That was pretty crappy of me.