Data Log - IRS Mary Shelly

Entry 1

Log 1: A great and sudden change.

Independent Research Ship Mary Shelley, first log entry. Captain Grant Park speaking.

Or should I keep calling myself “Professor?” Perhaps not. This is a ship, not a university after all… though there’s no reason it can’t be both I suppose.

I brought a couple of colleagues with me - Anderson and Fletcher - plus a pair of doctorate students, Chase and Ray… Good people. Not just ivory-tower academics, but genuine talent. And of course, Chase and Ray sharing a cabin saves space for other things.

The Mary Shelley is… basic, to say the least. But she flies, she’s well-stocked and she has everything she needs to sustain us. We can expand her on the fly to suit any mission profile… All we really need now is a direction.

I’ve given that a lot of thought as we prepared for this. In all this excitement over what everyone’s so grandiosely calling the “apocalypse,” they all got so hung up on finding a new home, or a new planet, that they’ve forgotten what space exploration is really about: To seek out new worlds and… well, you know the rest. To boldly split infinitives that no man has split before! +chuckles+

Who knows. Maybe the answer to our problems is an older, wiser species who faced the same troubles we did and overcame them… or perhaps they were smart enough to see them coming in the first place. We can’t fail to learn more about the cosmos if we go looking… and who knows, perhaps we’ll stumble across what all the other ships are looking for along the way.

Or, just maybe, we’ll actually make first contact.

Either way… This should be interesting.

++END LOG ENTRY++

Entry 2

Log 2: Fearless, and therefore powerful.

Leaving Earth behind was… not as easy as I thought it would be. That’s home, after all. The cradle of humanity, blasted and ruined though it is. We threw a leaving party… Fletcher actually had a bottle of whisky, which he was glad to share. Not good whisky, but the first alcohol I’ve had in a long time.

We stood there and said our goodbyes, or… well, tried to. I think we were still trying to decide on a toast when we clearly saw a flash somewhere along the west coast of North America. A nuke. Hard to imagine there’s anything left in California that’s worth nuking, but...

Anderson’s toast was to “those poor bloody souls down there,” and that was it. We spooled up the hyperdrive and left.

We hopped a few systems over, stopping only to mine whatever we could find. Didn’t bother the other ships. We’ve heard stories of some crews going rogue, turning to piracy or slavery. We’re academics, not fighters. Best to keep a low profile.

After a dozen jumps or so we found a particularly promising system. Lots of resources, with not far to jump to get more, no other ships in sight... We took a vote and decided to build a small observatory station. Chase and Ray designed a telescope, and then came up with a very appropriate name for it: the Big Exoplanet and Anomaly Survey Telescope, or B.E.A.S.T. Very apt for a ship named after the author of “Frankenstein.”

What none of us expected was how quickly it would find an anomaly. We barely had to turn it on before it told us where to find… well. Something. Honestly, these readings don’t make any sense at all. I certainly can’t think of any natural phenomenon that would produce data like these…

Which of course leads the mind to imagine an unnatural phenomenon. But no human ship would produce these kinds of readings either.

Could it be…?

++END LOG ENTRY++

Entry 3

Log 3: Determined heart and resolved will.

First contact. I still can’t believe it really happened. We’ve found the first truly hard, physical evidence of a non-human civilization: A spaceship.

Sadly it was derelict, and there was no sign of the crew. We’ve formulated some theories about what they may have looked like based on the furniture, and they definitely weren’t humanoid. Anderson thinks they may have been quadrupedal.

We’re trying to guess how old the wreck might be, but failing. How do you begin dating something from another planet? Impossible! There wasn’t enough organic matter aboard the ship for radiometric dating, and even if there was we don’t have the necessary baseline information for an alien world! It could be thousands of years old for all we know. Tens of thousands! The people who built it might all be gone. Who knows?! Maybe the apocalypse is something that happens to every species, in time.

There was one light in the darkness, though. Literally. A single functioning, powered piece of technology. It’s bigger than two men: We had to literally strap it to the shuttle to bring it back over to the Mary Shelley, but it’s here now, sitting in the middle of our deck. We have no idea where to even begin. We’re going to do our best, I guess. And our best is very, very good.

Speaking of which... I won’t learn anything if I sit here complaining into my log, will I? Up and at ‘em, Park: there’s science to do.

++END LOG ENTRY++

Entry 4

Log 4: A secret, which I desired to discover.

Fascinating. Truly fascinating. The artefact appears to be a combination of an exotic hyperspace signal transmitter, and some kind of incubation chamber, or maybe a suspended animation pod that doesn’t rely on cryostasis. Maybe both. And it has an occupant!

The creature within exhibits truly remarkable adaptations that can’t possibly be natural. I don’t know if this thing even needs to breathe air! But of course, that raises so many questions. It looks designed, but who designs a life form that can survive and work in space?

That’s definitely what’s going on here. The… biodroid? Creature? Whatever it is, it has an organ in its brain that’s sensitive to the hyperspace signals from the artefact. We tried pushing a few different buttons to see if we could get a response, but nothing’s happened so far.

That’s hardly surprising. We’re trying to operate a piece of technology that runs on completely different principles to everything invented by the human race. All their standards and protocols are different, right down to the voltages, circuit architecture and… everything! We’re poking blind at this thing, but I think Chase and Ray are making some inroads on translation. I don’t care if they aren’t making progress really, watching the way those two smile as they work together always lifts my spirits.

If they succeed, though, I bet this creature would be just as compliant as any robot. But why not just build a robot?

Sadly, that question will have to wait: Fletcher says this system is running low on available water. We’ll move on to somewhere we can stay a little longer and build a containment pen on the ship where we can study the organism properly. We have a good lead on a relatively wealthy system along the derelict alien ship’s trajectory. Maybe we’ll find something out that way.

I’ve attached the navigation data to this log entry. Can’t have too many backups, after all...

++END LOG ENTRY++

Entry 5

Log 5: Thy pride of wisdom.

Independent Research Ship Mary Shelley, final log entry. Professor Grant Park speaking.

Chase and Ray died fighting side-by-side. I can still hear their screams when I close my eyes…

We, uh…

...The containment pen we built was, um… not adequate to the task. At first it was fine, but, well...

We eventually found a signal that caused the organism to hatch. It didn’t attack at first, so we assumed it was docile. It didn’t need much food, either. Or, as I predicted, air. Or water. So we kept experimenting, kept trying different signals… We made more progress on translating the artefact’s control software in just one hour than we’d made in the preceding two weeks.

But then, in response to one signal, it… changed. Morphed into some kind of chrysalis, and stopped responding to commands. Then the chrysalis burst and there were dozens and dozens of babies in there, and they didn’t respond to the control signal either... And they were hungry. And they were small enough to slip out through the vents.

I think only the adults listen to the control signal. But… it’s too late to test that hypothesis now. I can’t get to the artefact anyway: Anderson’s corpse is blocking the door.

They… glued him to it, with some kind of resin that sets like concrete. And then they laid eggs inside him. I wish… I wish I could have...

...Nobody should die like that.

As for Fletcher… I think they did the same to him, but he escaped. He took the shuttle and abandoned us. God only knows how far he thinks he’ll get without a hyperdrive, but I guess he’s gone… and if I’m right, those eggs will hatch somewhere out there.

If somebody picks him up, well… Who knows how far they could spread?

As for me… There’s no way out. I can’t just vent the ship, they’d barely notice. And I don’t have enough food or water in here to wait them out.

I do have a pistol, though.

If anybody finds this message… I’m sorry. We should have been more careful. We meant to expand the sum of human knowledge, but instead I fear we’ve expanded the sum of human misery.

Maybe if you find out where they came from, you can do something about them. I’ve uploaded everything we found out, all our data... It’s all on this tablet. I’m convinced these things were engineered, and they definitely respond to the signals from the artefact… all you need to do is control them. If I just had the artefact in here with me, I could…!

...They’re cutting at the door. They can hear me in here. I’m… I’m going to take the easy way out before they get to me.

Please. Use the artefact. Send the control signal, and stop them. And please…

...Forgive me.

“My spirit will sleep in peace; or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. Farewell.”

++END LOG++