I’m not whining. I’m…climbing. I’m at the top. I’m just…gonna catch my breath for a minute…
I’m staring at the hatch. These aliens have really…ordinary hands. It’s a little bigger than mine, but it looks like it could be anyone’s handprint. Pressing my hand on it now. I can feel everything vibrate a little. It might be lining up the hatch inside the sphere with this one. It’s opening.
I’m almost to the other hatch. Why is this walkway so small? OK it’s open. It’ll just take a second to…drop my stupid barstool on the floor…and…I can make my way in.
I’m in. The room is still well lit. The light is very…cozy, like a room with a fireplace. I just closed the inner hatch. I’m off the barstool, now approaching the top station. Rose, I know you think this looks like a straitjacket, but it’s pretty badass if you ask me. Take it off that pole hanging from the ceiling and I think it would make Batman proud if you spray painted it black. I’m sliding my arms in…
I can’t seem to get my fingers to fit into the gloves. Wiggle, wiggle…OK, the hands are in. Gloves are just a little stiff. Closing the arm braces. I’m trying to…clip the front closed with my big metal fingers. I think that’s how it goes. I’m closing the large metal brace around my chest.
Let me see if I can move with that thing on. Mobility is good, as resistance is minimal on the arms and hands. It’s a bit harder to move my chest. I can bend forward to touch my toes, but I can’t crouch. I can barely flex my knees before I run out of leash. I can’t move away either. It’ll be hard to pick anything up from the ground. Strike that. I’m an idiot. My legs don’t count. Ryan can crouch from the other station, and I can grab stuff from wherever the ground will be…for me. That’ll be weird. I know everyone’s excited, but it might take a while before we get the gist of this two-pilot thing.
Of course, that’ll be the least of our problems, unless there’s a video screen or something in that helmet, because, well, we can’t see outside. I can’t see anything but metal. And the visor on the helmet looks completely opaque, so if there’s no screen, then I won’t see anything at all. Use the Force, Luke! Maybe that’s it. Maybe this is a really big Jedi training thing, to see if you can move a ten-thousand-ton dummy around with your eyes closed.
I don’t think there’s anything else I can try before I put on the helmet. You know, this really looks like a helicopter helmet. I’m putting it over my head now. I wonder if…
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRHHHHHHH…
FILE NO. 041
PERSONAL JOURNAL ENTRY—DR. ROSE FRANKLIN, PH.D.
I’m angry. I’m angry with everyone. I’m angry with myself. I should know better than to experiment with things I don’t understand and assume everything’s going to be fine. That was stupid of me. It’s not as if the leg controls left us with any doubt. This device wasn’t built for humans. Who knows what this thing can do to us? How could I ask Kara to try something I know nothing about, on her head, and not have a medical team with her?
She’s still at the hospital. She said the pain was so sharp, she lost consciousness almost immediately. We found her hanging by her arms at her station, like Christ to the cross. The helmet had turned itself off. It took nearly a half hour for the paramedics to reach her and get her out. She could have died a thousand times over.
When she came about she was completely blind. We almost lost her twice on the same day. Kara being Kara, she ripped out her IV the minute she woke up and tried to feel her way out of the room. She tripped over something and knocked herself unconscious on a metal cabinet. They had to close a cut on her forehead, eight stitches or so.
There were superficial burns on her face. The doctors treated them and wrapped a bandage around her head to cover her eyes. She was supposed to keep it on for a few days. Of course, she removed it after only a few hours. She said it was itching…The doctors scolded her halfheartedly. They’ve seen her a few times already—routine exams, some cuts and bruises—so they were probably surprised she kept it on that long. I was.
When I stopped by the hospital to see how she was doing, the whole room was agitated. Doctors were arguing amongst themselves, kept calling in other doctors to examine her. I asked what was going on about a dozen times, but I couldn’t get anyone to listen to what I was saying. Kara threw a lamp at the wall. That got their attention.
The doctors told her that her eye was fine. She didn’t seem ecstatic enough, so they went on to explain that her retina had somehow been repaired. I didn’t believe it myself, but they showed us the before and after pictures. It didn’t take a medical degree to see it. That helmet had fixed her. It probably detected an eye injury and proceeded to repair it. I can only hope that’s why it was so painful.
It’s hard to express how relieved I am. Kara’s fine. Better than fine, really. This is closer to a miracle. So why am I angry? Well, I was so happy. I rushed back to the lab and I tried on the helmet myself. Stupid, right? It didn’t do anything, so I asked Ryan up and had him try it on. I had every lab assistant come in and give it a go. When that didn’t work, we tried the helmet at the other station, all of us. Why risk one person’s life when you can go for half a dozen? Oh, and the helmet’s broken. As far as I can tell, the other one was already broken when we found it. Neither of them work anymore.
What was I thinking? It repaired her eye? For all we know, these aliens might have one big eye. Maybe they have eighty of them. They might have the eyes of a fly, they might have no eyes at all. It could have ripped her skull in half, disfigured her, turned her into something she’s not. A million things could have happened to her, most of which would probably have killed her.
It’s my job to keep her safe, to make sure nothing happens to her. I sent her up there and she trusted me. She trusted my judgment, she trusted that I wouldn’t send her in if I thought she could get harmed. I’m supposed to be a scientist. I don’t know what I am anymore.
Kara’s scheduled for an MRI tomorrow. We should know if there’s any brain damage. If I had half a brain myself, I would have waited for the results before letting anyone back in the sphere. It’s too late for that, but I’ll have the doctors run a lot more tests before I let Kara back in there. We should wait a few weeks anyway, she might exhibit more symptoms as time goes by.
I hope she’s OK, with all my heart. Not just for the sake of the project, I don’t think I could live with myself if I let anything happen to her. I’ve grown a lot closer to her. I’ve grown closer to all of them, but I really like Kara.
I’m not the only one who likes her. Ryan hasn’t said a word, and we all let him think we haven’t noticed, but of course she knows. I know. Vincent knows. I’m sure the robot knows by now. I wish Ryan only the best—who wouldn’t?—but I hope his crush disappears on its own. I certainly hope they don’t end up together. I love Kara, but she’d end up hurting him, a lot.
That being said, the two of them are doing great. It took a while, but he’s learned to leave her enough space. I have to give Ryan credit for that. They complement each other quite nicely. They work well together. They’ll have to if they’re going to stare at each other all day.