We are the only two people in the world. I think that’s starting to hit me.
Signs
Dr. Eve Strauss, Research Facility C on the southern continent of Way Station, assisted by Dr. Isaac Federman. Walls are intact and the life support system is running at optimal capacity. Air supply is clean. Dry food storage is clean, but the farms, fresh food supply, and water supply are contaminated. Most of the research team was found in the farm, the others scattered throughout the facility in the pattern of their work shifts. All areas show signs of struggle, but none of the struggles seem to be with their teammates.
Examination review of Latasha Gonzalez, ID number 1236, details in file. Full autopsy report in temporary file, pending transfer when communication channels open again. They were found clothed in the farm’s west sector on the shore of the lake, face down with one arm in the water. Hair is gray instead of the dark brown their file shows and flesh is soft and spongy, the bones flexible instead of stiff.
Their body is covered in translucent red bulbs, as are all the other bodies within the facility. Those who died in the farm have more bulbs than the bodies elsewhere, and with more clusters and larger sizes to those bulbs. There are some symptoms of arsenic poisoning but, as we’d found in Facility A, no traces of poison show up in tests. One long gash extends down the outside of their arm from the right elbow to the wrist, but blood loss was not the cause of death. A high concentration of the externally visible bulbs are within this gash.
The bulbs appear to be a kind of fungus. They pulsate irregularly and are the cause of the abnormalities in the flesh and bones as they decompose the body. These growths are found in largest quantities in the stomach and lungs. Cause of death is the spores that caused the fungi to grow. We have been able to find some, but most are too small to see, and those smaller ones don’t show up on any equipment. Dr. Federman has left to re-examine the bodies at Research Facility A. If they also show the fungi now that time has passed, we will know the cause of death of the team members of Facility A.
Manner of death is natural.
We have found spores in both the water supply from the lake as well as in samples from the farm and the storage that houses the farm’s fresh produce. Facility A was the only one to have received the newest shipment from Facility C that contained the contaminants. No current reason to believe the infection was intentional.
Ahh, it’s good to breathe direct air again. I haven’t taken off my walking suit in days. The system said the facility’s air was clean, but it also said there was nothing harmful in the food or the bodies, so you can never be too sure.
I’ve only been able to breathe without the walking suit in our cramped car, in which I’ve spent the past week straight. It’s so easy to underestimate distance on a map until you’ve actually been down these roads, and despite how fast we drive, pushing the boundaries of what’s safe, the stretch of road between the southern continent’s facilities B and C is longer than the United States is from coast to coast.
At least we stopped caring pretty quickly about having to cuddle for warmth each night. It’s practical. Awkward, the first few nights, but I think Dr. Federman is warming up to me. He’s even started to crack a few jokes about our sleeping arrangements.
Being apart is odd, now. Not even a month has passed since we’ve met, but— I hate to say this. Our bosses would give a big “I told you so” if they ever heard this, which, unless I manage to survive my time here and keep my diary from them, they will. But they were right, in a way. I hadn’t expected the emptiness to wear on me at all — most of my shifts were solo night shifts, and I’d always preferred it that way. But POGE makes it all feel different.
I had to tell Dr. Federman, but that wasn’t as bad as I’d expected it to be. He’s been having issues as well and gave me ways to deal with it. Anything colorful. Most of these facilities don’t have anything other than monochromes and browns, and something different, something to give color and life, could be grounding, so he gave me a bracelet he’d brought with him, made of large plastic beads of soft pinks and yellows and blues. It’s comforting to have something cute on me, something unrelated to work. He has a lot of them, too. When he rolled up his sleeves to give me one, his arms were nearly covered from wrist to elbow.
The most important thing he told me, though, was that we had to stay together. So much for that.
In two days I need to start this car up. As a compromise, we’d decided that I would meet him on his way back from Facility A. There was too much work to be done to take a break for the both of us to make the trip like we wanted, but we also didn’t want to wait the entire five days until he returned. He’d left quickly to give us enough time to get our work done. We want to be at the coast by the time the communication channels open again in two weeks, or at least nearing completion of our work in Facility E. Bosses didn’t give us a strict timetable, but considering they sent us up here alone with no backup, we figured taking our sweet time wouldn’t be an optimal plan.
I don’t want to spend three days alone.
I can’t decide whether or not I like it here. It looks so much like home. The farm is enormous, easily three times the size of the ship Dr. Federman and I came up here on, and I’d thought that was extravagant. It stretches over a fourth of the lake’s shore, which doesn’t sound like much if you don’t know just how big this lake is.
Artificial sunlight lights the area. The lights in all of the facilities brighten and dim to mimic day and night, but the others all use regular laboratory bulbs. The crops seem more than healthy, flourishing here as they’d never done on Mom’s farm. The lake water is clear and sparkling under the lights, filtered through the station wall far away from me. Before arriving here, I’d wanted to taste it right from the source instead of the bottled water sent to the other facilities. But that’s okay. I’m used to disappointment.
Unlike the false familiarity I feel looking out at the trees through station windows, these are real, Earth-native plants.
I’m homesick.
The storm hit here the hardest. The vegetation is flattened in a miles-wide radius. Most of the trees are hard enough and strong enough to survive even the speed and size of the debris within the storm, but aside from them and the facility, everything else is laid to waste.
I finished all the tests an hour ago, and I still have a day until I should get in the car. It’s frustrating sitting here with nothing to do, and I hadn’t realized until now how comforting another human’s presence had been, even when we didn’t talk. We’ve checked in with each other over the facility radio, but I can’t help the crawling under my skin whenever I think about the distance between us and the fate of Facility B’s team.
I really, really hope Dr. Federman doesn’t end up a statue. I need him mobile.
All members were inside here, though. Whatever brought the other team outside when the storm hit them didn’t have the same effect here. There’s no real need, then, for me to get the storm data from the weather monitors, but I don’t know what else to occupy myself with.
Something had cut off their signal before it could reach the facility. I’d be lying if I said I was curious, but it’s a good thing to know, because if that short signal could be blocked, maybe it could affect the radios Dr. Federman and I use, and—