Icarus: Epilogue – August 9th, 2143 Subjective/August 9th, 2145 Objective

August 9th, 2143 Subjective/August 9th, 2145 Objective

AFTER ACTION REPORT #452
SYSTEM REPORTING: ALPHA CENTAURI; PRIMARY ALPHA
COMMAND: CSS PERSHING, 4TH FLEET
CO: 06 CPT KILLIAN, JAMES

The wreck discovered orbiting Alpha Centauri’s dwarf planet EISIN B is confirmed to be the North American Expeditionary Science Vessel Icarus. Presumed lost over fifty years ago, rediscovering the wreck will shed some light on the NAEF’s Time-Vortex technology. Following the Collapse, much of it was lost.

It appears that the ship collided with an asteroid approximately the size of a human fist at roughly one-third the speed of light. A good chunk of the forward hull was ripped away by the force of the collision. My tech officer also reports that the ship was outfitted with a type of ablative armor, though most of it seems to have been burned away.

Three crew members were recovered from the wreck, all three remarkably well preserved. They all appeared to have died of exposure, though tests will be run once we return to Earth. We simply do not have the facilities aboard the Pershing to examine them here. In the meantime they’ll be put in cryo freeze for the return trip.

We also recovered a portable computer terminal. It was found on one of the less preserved bodies and exposure has all but destroyed it. Perhaps something will be recoverable, though the technology is rather ancient. Our IT department will have a field day with it I’m sure.

For now the Pershing will be returning to Earth immediately. Once she hears about this, we’ll be made to come straight home anyway. I hope they can discover what made the Icarus operation such a failure. From what I hear, they fell off the grid the moment they went into the Vortex. Poor bastards.

Well, at least now their families might get some closure after all these years. Most have forgotten perhaps but if I know Sarah… well she won’t. Fifty years and she finally convinced the Council to send a ship here.

I’d love to hear her story some day. Seventy and can still boss around a Confed Council, no wonder she never married.

THE END

Icarus – May 1st, 2099

May 1st, 2099

How do you say goodbye to life? As it turns out, you do it as quickly as possible. My computer’s power is all but gone and I have just enough to seal away one last entry. It will be encoded and preserved as best I can, though it won’t matter. This is for me, for both of us for there are two of us: the man I was and the creature I will be.

I am hours away from the radiation kill zone around Alpha Centauri’s primary star. There is a technical name for it but I don’t remember what it is. Once the Icarus crosses that line, I will die. The ablative armor on the ship’s hull will burn away like paper thrust into a bonfire. There is the possibility of being struck by a meteorite, there’s a couple million out there, circling the planets. I didn’t aim the ship to avoid them.

Five minutes. Jesus this isn’t even going to be read. Mom, dad, you won’t even know what happened to me. Sarah? Christ you haven’t talked to me in years, a decade. It’s been a decade since I left Earth, it just doesn’t feel that way.

I came out here to get away from everything, to leave all my pain and my regrets behind. They were beasts, raging at the doors of my sanity. Out here, I thought I’d change. I was too afraid to be happy, to be the man I wanted to be so desperately. Sarah wanted me to be that man, helped and urged me to change but I wouldn’t listen.

I hear her voice, calling me. Finally. I’ve waited so long to come back. It’s the madness, the creature inside me that’s talking but I don’t care. I see a door ahead of me and it leads back to our old apartment. Inside, she’s waiting for me, looking young and beautiful. She’s beckoning and sunlight is turning her short hair to gold and white. Oh, God, if you could only see what I see.

Icarus – April 30th, 2099

April 30th, 2099

What have I done? Sarah will not come to me! She stands on the other side of the sealed doors and turns her back on me! Sarah, oh Sarah, why? I… what have I done to the controls? Why are they broken? What have I done?

The colors are all wrong in here. I must write it down, that’s it. If I write it down, it will be right again. It must be why there are so many locked entries before this. Why are they locked? Why can’t I read my own entries?

She’s looking at me, frowning, pointing. Why? What is she so upset? No! No… please, no…

Icarus – April 29th, 2099

April 29th, 2099

There is nothing brave about me. You need only look back at my previous entries to understand that, but there is something inside me besides fear. These past few days I’ve been living in a dream, following Sarah down this rabbit hole to my destruction. I loved her, more than I ever knew. She urged me to leave my desk job behind, to follow my dream and write my book. I was too scared then.

But now, in this I’ve found a kind of a strength. Here, at the end of everything, beyond the reach of mankind, I’ve found the courage to do one last thing. Sarah showed me how to steer the ship, to turn it toward the Time-Vortex Tunnel. She wants me to come home, but I’m following another dream.

All of the infected bodies and all of my crewmates are still aboard, waiting for me. They will wait until I come out and join them. Together we are poised to return to Earth and spread. I won’t allow that to happen.

We’re going to visit Alpha Centauri’s primary star. I’ve set it to hard burn and locked myself out, destroyed the panels with a wrench. It’s too late to be scared or feel sorry for myself. We’re all going to burn, flying so close to the star that we incinerate into flecks of dust.

Now I can close my eyes and let her come to me and I will accept her with open arms.

Icarus – April 28th, 2099

April 28th, 2099

The lights on the Icarus have all gone out. I float in the darkness of the engine rooms, slowly feeling a chill creep into me. The Song is my only company since the screaming stopped. I don’t hear them anymore. They neither bang on the doors nor scratch at the grating. They aren’t gone though, they’re just waiting.

Waiting for me to come to them.

Why has it taken so much longer for me? Why did it take the others so swiftly and leave me alone to wrestle with it for days? It is the sickness, I can’t deny it anymore. Soon I will be one of them. I can feel it inside me, wrenching at my muscles, tearing into my mind. It’s the Song, a kind of hive-mind. It sings to you, telling you just one thing: spread. That is the melody by which they live, a melody I am powerless to stop.

I’ve decided to be clinical about this, to describe it as best I can before I can no longer write. The fever robs you of sleep, makes you see things. For me it has been Sarah. In these waking moments I read over what I’d written before and it’s so obvious. She is the illness made manifest, coaxing me on to do its bidding. Early on, you aren’t unconscious, your mind dissolved and replaced. You are simply tricked into a delusional dream-state.

I’m no scientists as I’ve said before, but I believe it comes in the form of your greatest desire or greatest regret. It pulls on strong memories, attaches itself there and moves you toward it. Eventually even that will be gone and the tumors I’d seen will control your basest of instincts, fight and kill and feed.

Icarus – April 27th, 2099

April 27th, 2099

Sarah stands before me, her hands on my cheeks. I look into her eyes, feel her breath on my chin as she smiles. She hasn’t done that in so long. It’s a dream, the past, a past that is replacing the present.

Reaching out, I can feel her. I touch her short hair, my fingertips sliding through silky strands to the warm scalp below. She closes her eyes, sighing in contentment. Her body presses against mine and the scent of vanilla comes to me, faint but intoxicating. If I press my lips to hers, I know the taste of the gloss she wears will be strawberry. Strawberry and vanilla. I can’t smell, see or taste either without thinking of her.

It’s a fever dream but I can’t wake up. I follow her through the engine rooms, tap out numbers on keys that she tells me. Her whisper is in my ear, telling me we shouldn’t be alone. We should go home, go home and find others to be with.

I am at peace in those moments, when the dreams are at their most vivid. I could stay here forever and be all right, but I won’t. There is something in me that fights this perfection, this living dream. I won’t reach out to kiss her, to draw her to me forever, because that dream scared me then and I can’t accept it now.

And so I have these moments where I know I am becoming one of them. I wake from the dream and see my hand poised over the ship’s consoles and snatch it back. Sarah always said I was too afraid to reach out and embrace my dreams, but if she only knew the dreams I have now.