204th Entry

June 3^rd, 2037

0933

Dear Earth Diary.

So. I’m…

1147

…going…

1303

…to…

2359

…die.

June 4^th 2037

0001

Well. That was a waste of a day. And/or life.

I want nothing more than to just go to sleep and forget all about it, but I’m wide awake. Which I’m guessing is pretty much my brain saying ‘hey, you don’t exactly have a whole lot of life yet. You should make the most of what you do have.

Seriously. Get up, you lazy bastard.

My brain is nice that way.

What’s most frustrating is I’d really started to believe that Mary’s plan, whatever it is, might just work.

And hopefully it will. But I won’t be part of it. Three cheers for bad timing.

0024

Wait a minute. I’m being far too defeatist about this. I’m not prepared to die yet. I can escape from here. I will escape from here! I’ve been in worse situations than this!

That whole space thing, for example.

I feel so much better. I can do this! The time to act is –

1123

“Good morning.”

…now.

“Now what?”

Never mind, just finishing a sentence. Was I asleep?

“Like a log.”

Do logs sleep?

“Like logs.”

What can I do for you? The execution hasn’t been moved ahead has it?

“No, I just wanted to deliver this cake to you.”

You made me a cake?

“My daughter wanted to thank you for the autograph.”

Why does your daughter even know who I am?

“You’re kind of a hero.”

But I haven’t done anything heroic.

“As I said. Kind of.”

I don’t understand.

“You know how you talk to yourself a lot?”

I’m sorry. Old habit from when it was being recorded.

“We heard them. Everyone’s heard them.”

I didn’t even think NASA had heard them.

“Someone’s been posting them online. We all know where you’ve been, what you’ve seen. What they were trying to do.”

Who, do, what?

“The clone city! Cloning’s illegal. As is sending people into space to die.”

I don’t exactly know that they meant for me to die.

“Not you. Mary.”

Then why isn’t your daughter baking her cakes?

“Nobody knows where she is. She’s disappeared.”

So, hang on, NASA sent Mary into space and wanted her ship to fail?

“Not NASA. The people who hired NASA.”

Who’s that?

“I dunno. Everything we know comes from your recordings. There are groups piecing together the cryptic clues you left us. The inner meaning of all those seemingly crazy things you did.”

Um, some of those crazy things were just crazy things.

“I have to go. Just eat your cake, and know that a lot of people here are on your side”

What, did you hide a file in it?

“Wouldn’t get past the x-ray. Everything in there is organic.”

Sounds very appetizing.

“I have to go. Eat your cake.”

Wait! Poison is organic!

…He’s not coming back.

1131

On the one hand, it could be a trap.

On the other hand… Cake.

203rd Entry

June 3^rd, 2037

0903

Dear Earth Diary

“All rise.”

We’re the only ones here.

“Court is now in session.”

What court? There’s no one here.

BE SEATED, DEFENDANT. GAVEL. GAVEL.

What on earth is that?

I AM JUDGEATRON 4000. HERE TO DISPENSE JUSTICE. ALSO COMPLIMENTARY COFFEE.

This is ludicrous.

CAPPUCINO. ONE MOMENT SIR OR MADAM.

“Court cases are settled by computer now. Where have you been?”

Space.

“The Judgeatron 4000 is the leading justice computer on the market, after the JuryRigged was recalled over hacking allegations. With its 12 CPUs and the latest in Antiwitnessleading technology we can rest easy that the right people are behind bars. But hey, don’t judge it until you try it.”

Did you just wink at me?

“Sorry. Seemed appropriate.”

I see.

“Also, the coffee’s quite good.”

Excellent.

YOUR COFFEE IS READY SIR OR MADAM.

Thank you.

STEAMING HOT COFFEE, STEAMING HOT JUSTICE. EVERY TIME.

Great.

BE SEATED. ORDER IN THE COURT. WARNING. MILK SUPPLIES LOW. GAVEL. GAVEL.

I am going to die.

PROSECUTION. YOU MAY BEGIN. GAVEL.

PLEASE WAIT. LOADING PROSECUTION.

HEY. BUDDY. YOU’RE GUILTY. JUST ADMIT IT SO WE CAN GO HOME EARLY.

“Objection.”

SUSTAINED. THE PROSECUTION WILL REFRAIN FROM BADGERING THE WITNESS.

UNDERSTOOD. PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I AM DISTRACTED BECAUSE MY WIFE IS HAVING AN AFFAIR.

This is ridiculous! I don’t trust this thing to run a fair trial!

“Its track record is irrefutable. It is concerned with nothing but handing down justice.”

PLEASE EMPTY SUGAR TRAY

But it’s also the Prosecution!

“It’s efficient. Can we get on, Mr. Justice?”

PLEASE. CALL ME JUDGEY.

“No. I believe it was time for the verdict?”

Hang on, what about the trial?

“Oh we did that before. The Judgeatron has been given full access to all court files and data and is able to accurately declare justice in 0.000003 seconds. That’s well below the justice benchmark.”

What, did you memorise the pamphlet?

“I wrote the pamphlet.”

Isn’t that a conflict of interest?

“Why? He’s not convicting me, after all.”

But if he’s already completed the trial, why have I just sat through this… this… whatever this was?

“Overtime.”

For goodness’ sake.

“I’ve got children to feed.”

Aren’t you worried what they’ll think when they find out their dad is corrupt?

“Oh they’re not my children.”

PLEASE WAIT. LOADING VERDICT.

…

VERDICT LOADED. CHECKING FOR UPDATES.

DOWNLOADING LATEST PATCH.

ADDITIONAL FONT PACKAGES REQUIRED. DO YOU WISH TO DOWNLOAD THEM NOW?

No.

PLEASE WAIT. DOWNLOADING ADDITIONAL FONT PACKAGES.

VERDICT COMPLETE. WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR IT NOW?

Yes. Sure. Get it over with.

THE DEFENDANT IS FOUND…

…Yes?

PLEASE EMPTY SUGAR TRAY.

Just give me my damn verdict!!

THE DEFENDANT IS FOUND… GUILTY.

What a surprise.

WOULD YOU BE INTERESTED IN TAKING A SHORT SURVEY ABOUT YOUR COURTROOM EXPERIENCE? SUBMIT YOUR RESPONSE AND ENTER THE DRAW TO WIN A FREE RETRIAL.

0930

Back in my cell. What a ridiculous morning.

Execution is set June 10^th, 1445.

Which is about 20 minutes before Mary saves the day.

…yaaaaaaaaaaay.

202nd Entry

June 1^st, 2037

1030

Dear Earth Diary.

Just finished the meeting with my lawyer. To be honest I’m not entirely convinced he’s the right man for the job. Except the job is apparently “get me convicted” so maybe he is.

The meeting consisted entirely of him sitting in the corner reading the newspaper until he’d been there long enough to charge overtime on his bill to NASA. I know this because he told me this when he sat down. Occasionally he would glance over at my direction and burst out laughing.

Still, I’m not bothered. Mary has given me hope. All I have to do is trust her, and wait. Soon we’ll be out of there.

I just need to wait.

1043

I am so bored.

1400

Are we free yet?

1500

Nothing’s going to happen today. Maybe I’ll take a nap.

1509

“You awake, prisoner?”

Now I am.

“Message for you from M.”

Who’s M?

“I probably shouldn’t say her name all at once.”

What’s the rest of her name then?

“…Ary. Message. Read it.”

Thank you. … ’June 10^th, 1503, give or take.’ What does that mean?

“It sounds like a date and time.”

I would never have worked that out.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Anything else?

“Yes. Sign here.”

It’s not a death warrant, is it?

“No it’s fine. I just need you to sign it.”

Fine. Whatever. Do you have a pen?

“Sure.”

…What is this?

“It’s my limited edition supanovey fun pen.”

How is this more fun than a regular pen?

“It’s got ‘fun’ written on it.”

How wonderful.

…

Um, where is the writing bit?

“Oh it’s here. Now just twist the third leg that way twice and –“

Yeah, yeah. I got it. Here.

“Thank you.”

Don’t mention it.

“My daughter is going to be so thrilled.”

June 2^nd, 1037

1100

Dear Earth Diary.

Another meeting with the lawyer. This time he stood outside the cell and counted the money in his wallet. At least he wasn’t laughing at me this time.

I checked out the star again last night. It was still there. Still a star. I thought for a second it had blinked off, but it was probably me that blinked, not it.

No word from M. Ary today, I’ll just have to assume the plan is in motion. And continue to wait.

I tried tapping to see if 3.0 was there but nothing. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

So. Waiting. That’s me. Waiting patiently.

1800

Still waiting. Less patiently.

June 3^rd, 2037

0900

Dear Earth Diary

“Good morning, Guilty!”

Will you stop calling me that?

“Just saving some time.”

Oh go away. I don’t care if you want to bill them for the meeting, just leave me alone.

“I’m pretty sure you want me here today.”

I really don’t.

“Fine. Defend yourself.”

What?

“Your trial. It’s starting.”

What? Let’s go!

“Soon. Funny Story: did you know late people are usually guilty?”

201st Entry

June 1st, 2037

0003

Dear Earth Diary.

So here I am about to try astronomy lately.

Astronomy is apparently a fine art that requires skill, knowledge, devotion, and highly specialised equipment.

What I have is a window. It’s a nice window I guess.

I really don’t know why I’m doing this, but if I’ve learned one thing in the last 5 months, it’s to trust Mary. Or she’ll hurt you.

Corridor is quiet, I think the night shift just fell asleep. Clear sky, too. So I guess I should start.

Hmm. Well, there’s stars. A lot of stars.

0005

This concludes Amateur Astronomy.

I really don’t’ know what I’m looking for. There are stars. I’ve been up there and well… now I’m down here. Stars.

I wish she would stop being so cryptic and just tell me what it is I should be looking for.

“Try counting them.”

There’s like a million of them!

“A million and one now.”

Wait, what do you mean? And also, Mary?

“Yes?”

What are you doing outside my cell?

“Telling you about the extra star.”

Yes, but how are you here?

“I did a trade with the guards.”

What did you trade?

“You really don’t want to know.”

…Well not anymore, no.

“I don’t have long. There’s an extra star. Just above where Alpha Centauri would be.”

Ok, you know I don’t actually know where stars are, let alone where they would be? So there’s an extra star, what does that even mean?

“It means hope.”

Hope for what?

“I have to go. But we’re going to be fine. It’s all happening exactly how I thought it would.”

Wait, can I help? What do I need to do?

“Keep not being guilty.”

But I’m not guilty.

“Excellent. Don’t start.”

But, why? Mary, what’s going on?

“We’re getting out of here, we just need more time. Keep forcing them to draw out this trial, and hope.”

Hope what?

“Hope that I’m a good shot.”

Ok. Um.

“What?”

I don’t know if this is the best time to say it, but…

“Yes?”

Well, we’ve been through a lot together and…

“…Yes?”

You’re a lousy shot, Mary.

“…Like I said. Hope.”

0901

“How do you –“

Not guilty.

“…do?”

I’m not guilty.

“Well I’m your lawyer, so that’s convenient.”

I thought I wasn’t getting a lawyer?

“Oh they have to provide one. It’s a law. They can’t change those yet. Much.”

Who is they?

“They are a metaphor. So let’s talk. What are you hoping to get out of this trial?”

Freedom.

“Ha! Nice to have a sense of humour. No seriously.”

…Freedom?

“But you’re guilty. Clearly. You did all those things and you’re going to jail.”

Are you sure you’re my lawyer?

“Oh yes. But I didn’t say I’d been hired to get you off.”

But they have to provide me with a lawyer?

“And they have. But they don’t necessarily have to provide you with a good one.”

You’re not good?

“Oh I’m the worst.”

200th Entry

May 31^st, 2037

0320

Death Earth Diary

I can’t sleep.

Not surprising given the circumstances. It’s a bit of a thing to discover that the love of your life’s reaction to discovering you’re still alive would be “well, this is awkward.”

Mary’s taken this a lot better than I did.

I would have spent the entire afternoon drinking except that I am a man of dignity and there’s no alcohol in here and the guards refused to bring me any. I tried explaining that my heart had been broken. They were surprisingly unsympathetic. I’ll have to write a letter to their supervisor about the acceptable treatment of heartbroken prisoners.

Maybe not. Then other parts of me might get broken.

I thought at first maybe NASA wrote it in an attempt to break my morale. And they did write a part of it. On the back was scrawled:

P.S. You should totally plead guilty to those charges NASA have got you on. Signed Mary.

I’m disinclined to believe the authenticity of the above, because:

a)     Mary thinks I’m dead.

b)    Mary doesn’t know I’ve been charged.

c)     It was written in a different style, font, and pen colour.

d)    Mary think I’m dead.

I wondered for an hour or so if maybe I should be dead. It would certainly make things easier for everyone.

Then I realised that it wouldn’t make it easier for Mary (not fiancé Mary. Mars Mary). Or 3.0. Or, really, me. There’s a whole heap of things I couldn’t get done if I was dead. So the only people it really would make things easier for is NASA. And they’re the last people I want to assist right now.

Plus they wouldn’t bring me any rope.

So when the thing you were living for is no longer an option, what do you live for?

Life, I guess.

Also, my friends, who I totally have to rescue somehow.

Plus me. I have to rescue me.

First things first.

0900

Not guilty.

“Are you sure?”

Yes.

“You’re not feeling all demotivated, like you’d read something soul destroying?”

No I’m alright. I appreciate you asking.

“…Very well.”

CLICK

“Hey you!”

What?

“I heard what you said.”

And?

“They’re not going to be happy with you.”

And?

“Right on!”

Pardon?

“I said back in line, prisoner!”

Thank you.

“No worries. You’ve got a letter.”

Who from?

“Mary.”

You already gave me that yesterday.

“How many Marys do you know?”

…More than you could possibly imagine.

0910

The guards tell me you’re well. They’ve been passing me updates in exchange for anecdotes.

You’re a hero around here to the ground staff. Don’t let it go to your head.

We have to get 3.0 out of here. She’s not well. I think they’re trying to make more. There’s only so many samples they can take.

This message will self-destruct once you’ve finished reading it. By which I mean please destroy this once you’ve finished reading it.

-Mary.

P.S. Have you tried astronomy lately?

199th Entry

May 30^th, 2037

1530

Dear Earth Diary.

Some men came and took 3.0 away. It didn’t sound like it was because we were communicating, I’m not sure they cared.

I still don’t know why she can’t talk. There’s only so much you can convey with taps, and while I can get a yes or a no out of her, I’m pretty sure neither of us feel like playing a game of 20 Disturbing Questions.

I feel bad for all those times I told her to shut up now.

Still, it’s good to know that she made it Earth in one… it’s good to know she made it to Earth.

I wonder if Mary’s okay.

“Hey!”

Yes?

“Delivery for you.”

I get deliveries?

“You get this one, at least.”

Oh. Well, thanks.

“No worries. We’re all big fans of you here, by the way.”

What?

“I said shut up, prisoner!”

Oh. I thought you said something else.

1532

It’s a letter from Mary!

Not Mary Mary. My fiancé Mary! Goodness, I’d almost forgotten about her.

Don’t tell her I said that.

You’re dead.

Oh God, she heard me. Wait, how can a letter hear me?

I mean it. They declared you dead. They told me you’d drifted off into space and probably will starve to death if you don’t hit an asteroid. They wanted to tell me you hadn’t suffered, but in all probability you suffered immensely.

So here I am, writing to a dead person. Hi, dead person.

It feels weird writing this. I guess I was expecting I would be more upset when I heard the news. My fiancé. Dead. My plans for the future. Gone. Nothing in front of me but a long, empty abyss of loneliness and despair.

Actually I’m feeling pretty good. Is that bad? Should I be guilty? Should I be guilty that I don’t feel guilty?

Sometimes you need a short sharp shock to realise that maybe the things you were certain about aren’t so certain after all. And I guess it doesn’t get shorter or sharper than “That guy you were going to marry? He’s dead.”

I’ve never been good at these types of letters. You’re never going to read it anyway. Being dead and all. NASA were nice, they said they would shoot this into space for me with their next launch. Send it out an airlock and let it drift. Maybe it’ll even run into you one day.

I really need to stop putting this off. I’m not glad you’re dead. But… I’m not upset that I won’t be marrying you. Does that make me a bad person? It probably does.

I guess I’m just a bad person then.

Hoping you enjoy eternity in space. And I hope you’re not too upset. I’d say there’s a wonderful girl around the corner, and there probably is. But she’s on Earth, and you’re in space. So it probably wouldn’t work.

Also you’re dead.

I should probably stop rubbing that part in.

Yours,

Mary.

198th Entry

May 30^th, 2037

1330

Dear Earth Diary.

I think I’m becoming an expert on sitting in small rooms with no hope of escape. I wonder if there’s some kind of award.

It’s been a tedious week. Tediouser. Which is now a word. I’m not even making this up, the World Word Council Committee officially voted it in while I was away. Also, there’s now a World Word Council Committee, which is nice, I guess.

Apparently there’s a February 29^th every year now. They decided it was too confusing only doing one every 4 years, so they just put them in.

I’ve no idea what day it actually is anymore.

Hard to believe I’ve only been away for just under 5 months. It feels like years. One of the news articles they stuffed under the door with my lunch was about me and how I’m younger than everyone else now because I’ve been travelling at light speed, blah blah blah maths. I didn’t understand a word of it but hey, I just flew the thing.

No word from Mary or 3.0, or anyone apart from whoever keeps asking me how I plead. He doesn’t seem too pissed that I refuse to answer, but then he doesn’t seem to stop asking either. Once a day like clockwork, how do I plead?

Somebody stopped by in person on the third day to ask what I made of the charges. I showed him. 837 paper cranes.

Ran out. AGAIN. Face it, I’m just never getting my wish granted unless I go out and grant it myself. Which is deep, and all, but also extremely unhelpful to my current predicament.

Also the cranes are all pointy and I keep stepping on them. This sucks.

I’m almost considering just saying guilty to whatever it is they pinned on me to get me out of this room. Maybe that’s what they want me to do.

I’m going to lie down.

1422

TAP TAP TAP

What was that?

TAP TAP TAP

Ok, why was that?

TAP TAP TAP

Yes, yes, very clever, you can tap. Anything else?

TAP TAP

Was that no?

TAP

Was that yes?

TAP

Can you hear me?

TAP

What does three taps mean then?

TAP TAP TAP

Fascinating.

THUMP

Ok, ok. Um, do you know who I am?

TAP

Do I know who you are?

…

Oh. Yeah. Tap Tap. Guess that was pretty stupid of me.

TAP

Are you NASA?

TAP TAP

Are you Secret Evil Government?

TAP TAP

Are you human?

TAP

…Mary?

TAP

MARY!

TAP TAP

Wait, Mary but not Mary. 3.0?

TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP

Ow! Ok, ok, it’s nice to hear from you too. Hang on, you can hear me.

TAP

Why can’t I hear you?

…TAP

Yes? That makes no sense.

…TAP

3.0?

TAP

…Why can’t you talk?

TAP TAP

Wait. You can’t talk?

TAP

3.0… Tell me, are you alright?

TAP

…

…

…

TAP