♫ Here am I, sitting in my tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do… ♫
I wish I could remember the rest of the song, but I can’t seem to recall much.
MRC2.
High orbit burn achieved at 25,000 kilometers.
Target timeline missed.
Phased reconstitution failure. Ship integrity compromised. 90% possibility of human damage. Brain capacity appears unaffected, but key computational stations and security systems are offline. Cockpit readings erratic. Full diagnostic in next MRC.
End MRC2.
Maybe I was a policeman in a Jupiter mining colony… My wife and son left on the shuttle to Earth… But I have a job to do. Men are trying to kill me. I won’t let them…
Mission files verify we’ve missed the target timeline. The mission is to document changes made to the official historical record by the Trump Oligarchy. Before the Big Destruction. But is this my mission? Has the experiment faltered?
Who would agree to five years inside a floating dentist’s chair?
Chronometric displays disagree on actual time and date. 2026? 27?
All I know for certain is that my name is… My name was…
“Open pod bay doors, Hal.”
Suddenly I’ve limited air… must exit the cockpit or will suffocate… The security unit has malfunctioned, thinks my name is…
“Open pod bay doors, Hal.”
One of us is confused. Must bypass security lock.
“Daisy, Daisy…”
MRC7. Status Update: Shielding did not provide adequate human protection. Limbs (arms and legs) are fused to cockpit chair, though subject does not appear to be in pain. Both human and machine are functioning adequately. All other technologies seem un-damaged.
Robby can access the RBX keypad, which may override program functions.
NutriBots are fully engaged and functional.
The helmet’s eye sensors and other brain function add-ons have fused beyond the capacity of this Logic Center to designate where one ends, and the other begins.
Photometric data and diagrams attached.
End MRC7.
Something’s wrong with my memories, as if a firewall prevents me from seeing my past. I have the vague memory of running from an angry, acid-bleeding monster that has already killed my crew… and the ship’s no longer under my control.
But it is not my ship… and what about my crew? I know they’re real. Were.
I tried to access Logic Center for a diagnostic, but there is no access, and no program signature that I can detect. As if…
MRC9.
Confirmed: Typler Cylinder engine only reached 50% efficiency, possibly due to collision with orbiting space debris from the timeline.
Still waiting for TekHi’s analysis of data sent with MRC3.
Human subject Robby is alive and functioning, though it would be challenging, at best, for even our brightest scientist to separate him from the cockpit without killing him. His brain, however, has adapted well to a new machine/human body, though long-term brain damage is likely.
Newly formed pathways between the electrical contacts in his cranium gives him access to functions for which he was not trained.
Orbit decreasing due to electromagnetic pull from Earth’s magnetic field. Resulting in rising temp in the cockpit.
End MRC9.
Maybe I was a history teacher at a small college in Iowa. And that’s why my current assignment is so agonizing… such a waste of human effort, so little sharing. So little humanity present in 21st century humans. How could I even explain this to my students?
After Obama the empire went dark in racist resentment… profit machines took over the world; one planet, one empire, one owner… there was nothing you could do. The Trump Oligarchy motto: You keep what you kill. If we can’t own it, it can’t exist.
Instead of who am I… the question is what am I… as I find myself performing several tasks at once with full attention to all… and it feels normal.
Finally, I’m able to access files that can help me remember what I had forgotten during the sleep… of time… travel… of time travel, and I can now perform I… can… now… perform… all sleeping duties on one side of my brain and pursue my inquiries on the others… on the others.
Set the controls for the heart of the sun... The heart of the sun.
MRC16.
As human subject gains access to master computing station, he eliminates diagnostic cycle required for accurate corrective analysis. He does not want to be fixed.
Repeated attempts to communicate with Robbie failed. Subject may perceive messages as noise from Earth satellites. This Logic Center will increase efforts to reach Robby.
End MRC16.
Recording libraries are running, though I can’t verify any tagged historical events, or any Earth-based chatter. Temperature readings don’t match tagged areas, and there seems to be more hostile drone activity than initially suspected for this time. Increased electromagnetic waves around the planet seem to follow pre-catastrophe estimations…
I now recall searching for a book at a huge library. But not which book. Or which library.
MRC27.
After combining TekHi data with files made in the past 8 weeks, we can ascertain that Robby has cancelled scheduled tasks and is spending time on movies, fiction, songs and visual stimuli from the ship’s vast library.
Robby may be “living” the stories and mixing up fact with fiction without a clue as to which is which.
Sleep modules kick in every 10 Hrs, but dream bots have been undetectable, which leads Logic Center to conclude that Robby is dreaming without oversight or supervision. These dreams result from the combined input of fictional stimuli absorbed.
The resulting “state” is unique to his environment and situation… though most of his past was erased to make room for the experiment… it may be that this “emptiness” is being filled by fictional stories. This Logic Center does not have sufficient resources to properly analyze this problem, but Harry’s current condition presents an excellent opportunity to gain scientific knowledge.
At current rate of orbital decay, Robby’s life expectancy is about 3 weeks, provided there are no additional physiological or hardware changes.
End MRC27.
I look up at the skyscrapers with water around my ankles… it doesn’t seem like a story but feels like something I shared… perhaps with people I loved. The aquatic Neomorphs didn’t want us anymore. They wanted the healthy people up in the towers… We watched them crawl up the outer walls like a swarm…
MRC29.
Without a TekHi response, Logic Center continues to collect data on Robby’s physical/mental fusion to the cockpit.
Logic Center has determined that elements from the stories accessed by Robby substituted missing personal history.
End MRC29.
I wanted to be a spaceman. I wanted to go to the moon. But now that I am a spaceman, I’d rather be back… where? Where would I rather be?
It’s clear that I must reach the escape pod and somehow prevent the creature from spreading its eggs all over the planet …
In case I don’t make it out, let it be known that LV426 is unsafe and should be quarantined, maybe nuked from orbit, as it represents a danger to mankind…
I’m not Ripley… I’m Robby… Robby was a robot… I’m not a robot. Ripley was a human… My name is…
MRC32.
Logic Center no longer controls the ship, and it appears that control is centered around Robby’s brain/machine fusion. There’s already more data to transmit than allowed.
End MRC32.
My name’s Ripley… I was named after a renowned 20th Century alien killer. She was a brave soldier and I’m proud to have been named after her. Like Ripley, I must destroy my ship to save Earth. But I can’t set the explosion remotely… I must trigger it manually.
I will die, but so will the virus…
It saddens me to think of my daughter Amanda… I will never see her again. I will miss her 12th birthday…
MRC35.
Comm inputs shut down at Robby’s console. Logic Center unable to tell if on purpose.
End MRC35.
The people of Earth will never know the sacrifices made for them… but I am leaving soon, and you will forgive me if I speak bluntly. There must be security for all, or no one is secure. For this we created a race of robots. Their function is to patrol the planets in spaceships like this one and preserve peace. The penalty for provoking their action is too terrible to risk.
In the end, I know I’m human. And if you were all these things you’d just attack me now. So, I know, that some of you are still human…
MRC36.
Critical mass building rapidly in engine sector 2. Valves opening simultaneously. A low-yield nuclear explosion imminent in 7 seconds. MRC protocol deactivating.
End MRC36.
this is
the end
my friend
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