111th Entry

March 21^st, 2037

0725

Dear Space Diary.

Ever had an enticing, sweet smelling, amazing looking cake be placed in front of you, left long enough for the smell to drive you to insane levels of hunger, only to have a particularly petulant chef whisk it out from under your nose just as you go to take a bite?

Replace the cake with a companywide secret plot to create an army of clones for purposes unknown and the chef with a program for cleaning out mailboxes that have exceeded their limit and you’re left with one thing.

A worrying sensation in your stomach, and the shredded remains of a metaphor.

Ok, two things.

No sense worrying about it now. My mission remains. I’m a man on a mission. And Mary can’t know.

Actually, why can’t Mary know? She’d be on my side, surely? The cloning facility needs to be shutdown. I have to stop it. Apparently. No, I do. It’s wrong. They’ve trapped a total of 2 Marys in there now.

Well, 1 Mary. One and a bit. Ish. Rounding down.  Ok, they’ve trapped a total of a range between 1 -2 Marys in there now, depending on how you do the maths. But regardless of how you count, the facility must be destroyed.

Preferably not in an explosive, destructive, kill everyone kind of way. More in a peaceful quiet, press the off switch kind of way.

Ok, maybe Mary can’t know.

0735

I’m left with two problems.

1. I need to get back to the facility, probably without Mary knowing.

2. Once I’ve done that, I need rescue Mary 2.0, providing there’s enough of her yet to rescue, and shut down the facility, preferably without doing anything that could be constituted as murder, and then make it back in time to catch my flight back to Earth.

Piece of cake, right?

Well, at least I’ve got until Mary wakes up to decide how to –

“Morning!”

0738

Ok, she’s gone to take a shower. So I’ve got until she’s out to devise a cunning –

“I’m back!”

What kind of shower was that?

“Um. A cleansing one?’

Are you sure you didn’t want a longer shower?

“Are you suggesting I smell?”

Tell you what; let’s go with the me-not-being-punched option.

“Good answer.”

So um, are we ready to go?

“100%. Ships are fuelled, and I’ve looked at your FTL engine. It’s in perfect working order. We’ve food, we’ve water, and we’ve ships. We’re ready to go home! Home! Can you believe it? I can barely contain myself. We can leave right away!”

That’s fantastic! Except, instead of leaving right away, let’s stay here for another few days.

“…I’m confused.”

This planet is an amazing discovery. I know it’s been painful, but we should at least document it. I’d like to explore. I know you might be angry at me for asking you to stay, but –

“No, it’s ok. I understand. It makes sense. I get that.”

Great!

“I’ll go with you.”

…Great!