ARCHIVED LOG #1: Core Return
29 Dec 2015Kaparov
I'm returning from the core now. Canopy is breaking. I don't know if I'll make it home, but I've had time to think: there's so much space out here, so much emptiness, and yet it's like a song. Every planet plays its own tune, every location a new background serenade. Alluring. Alluring is the word I look for.But the song brings me a thousand light years south, to the neutron fields, where I've heard people will pay good money for data on them. I wonder why? The song brings me and I will follow. I just hope this canopy doesn't crack.
Update:
The further I went, the worse it got. Neutron after neutron. A minefield. I read a book once about something called the Vietnam War and I felt like one of those soldiers: probing for mines, deep in the mud, my uniform ripped and torn and every inch of me a luck away from losing everything.
Think about that, whoever might be listening. Think about losing everything. Millions in data, your life, your family, and you're nowhere to be found. You are nothing, no matter what heaven you believe. To all that know you, you are gone. I feel gone. I don't think I'll make it back. The canopy cracks. It's all I can hear. Little cracks and I'm 20,000 LY away from civilization. Even then, what if I'm to be hit by a pirate? I feel like I couldn't be angry. Maybe I deserve to be blown up, last second, by a pirate looking to take the nothing from my cargo bay. Routes plotted gone, information lost, maybe that's how it's meant to be.
I don't know. I'm to the point that I talk to a bobblehead. I just want someone to talk to, and there's not a soul out there to talk to me.
I realize this might just be in a black box for centuries to come, but if you can somehow hear this, talk to me. I miss hearing the human voice.
End log.