Dear Abigail – part 2/3


Log Number 14

Dear Abigail,

I’m finally beginning to feel at home here, I think. It’s been months, but my room finally feels like it’s really mine, you know? It’s nice. And I feel like I’m finally making friends with some of the guys down in the hydroponics lab. We meet up most nights and play cards, it’s a lot of fun.

Jim is trying to distil some alcohol from the leftover food crops without his bosses finding out, using makeshift still he’s set up in supply cupboard. That’d be cool. Anyway, what with work heating up and actually having something to do in my spare time, I’ve been pretty busy!

Speak soon,

Log Number 15

Godamnit Abby, I’m sorry. It’s been, what, a month since I last made one of these? Too long. I’ve just been busy, I suppose. We’ve made a pretty big breakthrough, so Dr Gisborne’s been working us hard. A bunch of the new samples turned out to have this really interesting compound, and we think it might be – oh wait, no, I’m not allowed to talk about that, am I? Well, this log will probably end up being redacted then, or expunged, or one of those other really painful-sounding words.

Jim got into trouble because I mentioned his alcohol still in the last recording, so I’m feeling pretty bad about that. He might get fired when we get back home, actually, and he was hoping to go out on another expedition after this one. So that’s made things kind of awkward with the hydroponics guys.
Anyway, I still miss you. I’m know I’m useless, but don’t give up on me. I know you won’t.


Log Number 18

Dear Abigail,

The air’s been tasting weird lately. We kind of panicked at first, thought we might all be about to suffocate or catch fire or something. But it’s fine. Turns out the compound we found reacts really weirdly with air, and it got into the oxygen supply somehow. Luckily it’s 100% benign. Passes in and out of the human body without interacting with it in the slightest. Still, that lot down in atmospherics are definitely in trouble. It’s going to take ages to scrub it from the filters.

That’s it for now, anyway. Been trying to do this more often, but it does mean I don’t have quite as much news. Speak soon,

Log Number 22

I forgot your birthday. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened. But I missed it. It was two days ago. I’ve just been so caught up in everything recently and I slipped. I’m sorry. It probably shouldn’t bother me so much, but it does, it really does. You’re holding out for me, still, I know it, and that means I owe you more.

I’m sorry. I haven’t even finished your present – the mix-tape. Every time I try to sing my voice keeps cracking and-


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