Dove Levy: Way Station

So. Does it matter? Does any of this matter? What will come of it? I can’t imagine the bosses will send anyone up here for such a sure death sentence as this, now that we know why so many have died, now that we know the true perils of POGE. It was hard enough knowing they’d send us up here despite what happened to the facility teams, but this is too much, I think. I hope.

They have grown desperate as of late. I would be, too, if I was tasked with finding a second chance for humanity’s existence, away from war and famine and economic depression. I might even be desperate enough to send up two hardly qualified scientists to hopefully give the news that what happened to everyone here was just a horrible fluke and that it really is safe to send ships of people up to live out their lives in a world without light, no matter what their chances of survival are.

No, that’s not fair. The bosses aren’t evil, aren’t malicious. They wanted to know what happened, wanted to know if it was something fixable, something we could move past and then we’ll all be okay. Eve is still angry with them, and I understand that, but I also understand their situation. People don’t want to spend money on false hopes. There wasn’t much they could do with the little funding they had but hire a couple of average scientists to hope for good news.

I hope they’ll choose the smart option and never send anyone up here again.

No more aliens have gotten in, and I’m almost disappointed. They’re fascinating, and while it poses a serious security risk to our livelihoods, the intelligence in these creatures required to get into our facility is astounding. In my spare time, I’ve set up a little obstacle course out of chairs and tables and some currently useless machinery, and I want to see how one of them makes it through. [laughs] Maybe I can train them like I trained Dad’s rats.

We no longer need to wait for the ferry’s battery to charge now that we’re traversing open land, but still, we’ve been here half a day longer than need be. Mostly my decision. Not just because of what lies beyond the doors — the number of individual heat signatures isn’t comprehensible by the system because there are still so many they look to be merging into one being. Who knows, maybe these things can merge into one being. That’d be a treat. But also because I think we need the rest.

I’ve been tired, lately. My bracelets don’t help as much as they should, and it’s become harder and harder to bring myself to do my job, to eat, to move. All I want to do is sleep. It’s taken long enough for this world to wear on me, for the constant stress and the strain on my mind and my soul to take its toll, but I think it’s finally starting. The lights are too bright, the bodies so deathly pale, and the comforting darkness of the outside world is growing more and more inviting. We have antidepressants, but I haven’t used any of them since we’ve been here, and it’ll take weeks for any I start taking to have effect. I should have been taking them this whole time, just in case — an oversight.

All I can think of is him. Would he approve of what I’m doing here if he’s seen the amazing things I’ve seen? Or would he still be fighting tooth and nail to keep me home?

It’s not like I had a choice. It was either POGE, or my family’s starvation. I hope he forgives me.

Dr. Isaac Federman, Research Facility J on the northern continent of Way Station, assisting Dr. Eve Strauss. Walls are intact and the life support system is running at optimal capacity. Food storage and air supply are clean. The research team was found scattered throughout the facility, half in their respective bedrooms and the other half in their assigned places in the station. All areas show signs of struggle.

Examination review of Sara Rose, ID number 81, details in file. Full autopsy report in temporary file, pending transfer when communication channels open again. They were found clothed and dismembered in the lobby, their clothing torn and numerous deep lacerations and bite marks on their torso, limbs, and face. Their right arm is missing and we haven’t yet found it, and several of the wounds reach to the bone, the flesh torn away.

Cause of death is piercing of the heart. Many of the lacerations were made in a fight before death, while the bite wounds were made from being eaten post mortem. All members of Facility J are deceased.

Hot.

So hot.

I didn’t think I’d miss the freezing cold of Facility I, but here I am, wishing I was nowhere but that blissful, horrible chill by the western coast. At least in the cold, you can always bundle up more than before. In the heat, there’s only so much you can take off before it starts becoming weird.

And outside of the facilities, you can’t take off your walking suit, so we’re boiling right now. Wouldn’t be surprised if one of us came down with heat stroke by the time we arrive at the facility. Only a few miles away now, I keep telling Eve. “Only”. As if a few miles isn’t utter torture in this heat.

This place is thick with vegetation, towering trees, and tangled underbrush and if POGE had a sun, we wouldn’t be seeing it anyways. Probably about as dark down here right now as it would be no matter the brightness of any star, with the amount of overlapping foliage above us. Deep jungle, we’re in, and in the middle of a ring of active volcanoes and scattered hot springs. It’s a sauna, and the only reason I’m grateful for this walking suit is because the humidity I know is on the other side of the fabric would make my hair frizzy for the next several weeks, and I hate when my hair gets frizzy.

Eve just laughed at me. Hush up, it looks ridiculous. You should know. We have the same hair type.

Despite the terrible conditions of the northern continent, at least there’s plenty of information available. It seems the worse the weather, the more interesting the life that managed to make its home here. Up ahead, only one more mile — just one more mile, we can do this — Facility J sits waiting for us, along with as many alien remains as they could find and an abundance of data on the jungle surrounding us. This land was rich with life, and it’s bound to be just as weird and wild as anything else we’ve seen here.

Funnily enough, the aliens decided they’d leave us alone by the time we left, and despite how many places there are to hide here, the car hasn’t been accosted once. We’ve been allowed a peaceful and solitary trip, one which would be infinitely more pleasant if this car had air conditioning.

The most advanced science available on Earth was put into this mission. How could they overlook something as simple as a cooling system?

Of course, our luck would run out.

It’s going to be a challenge finding the cause of death of the victims. Scavengers have been at them, and we had to shoo them away and kick them out of the station before we could take a well-deserved rest. It’s a miracle we’re still alive, honestly, if these things are smart enough to figure out the air locks.

It’s a miracle we’ve been mostly left alone instead of ending up like the facility members. Maybe they figure we’re not enough of a threat to merit attack. Or maybe they’re playing with us.

I’d thought this would get harder with each day, each facility, each body. And it was, at first. On the southern continent, my nerves were shot, and I could feel myself giving up more and more with every passing day. The lack of sunlight, the lack of stars, the lack of living people. Eve was just a coworker, just someone I vaguely knew, someone I worked with, and nothing more. Home was so far away, my family and friends countless miles from here, and we were surrounded by corpses both human and not.