2175 C.E.

XXI: Flight of the Black Probe

Novan Intelligence Dispatch: 08/03/2175 1031 NST

Earth Operational District 1-Novan Intelligence Command: MAGNUM has investigated unconfirmed reports of Terran attack plans. Source cannot definitively prove unconfirmed reports, but indications are strong in their favor. REGENT has no intelligence on reports. PALLADIN indicates unusual activity in Terran fleet stance and admiralty. Noteworthy army readiness activities have been noted. War preparations have been made to damaged ships and stations. End Dispatch.

Personal Journal: William Aucaman

08/03/2175

The EPD started to close in last night at about 9 O'clock. They sent some small surveillance drones through the area at about 8; Cynthia spotted it and we managed to get under cover before it got ID's on us, hopefully, but I think it must have found our campsite at the very least. We cleaned up as quickly as we could and started moving back towards the main road. Mom hoped that we could make it away before any SWAT forces could show up. We made it about two miles before we ran into a column of drones heading back the way we came. We dropped into the bushes and hid. It was close, I'm sure of it, but I don't think that the drones noticed us, because they kept marching. We waited about ten minutes after they had passed to move on. We went more slowly and carefully after that. The whole time we were dogged by overhead drones. I don't know how we avoided getting spotted, even in the dark. I know for a fact that those police drones have night-vision and infrared. It took us nearly an hour to reach the road, but we did make it, and we snuck past a police barricade on the other end.

Dad and Adrian picked us up in the truck about a mile down the road. Olivia Mattingly is still in a really bad way. She's extremely dehydrated, and she seems to be having hallucinations. She kept mumbling incoherently; sometimes I caught words from that alien language. Mom examined her carefully, and says she has a bunch of scars near the base of the neck and all along her stomach. Her body temperature is about 90 degrees and nothing we're doing is having any affect to bring it back up. Cynthia has been inconsolable, and I don't think she's slept since a couple of nights ago. Olivia really needs medical attention, but I'm not sure how to give it to her with the police after us.

Adrian's sticking to his suggestion to use the black ship he found. He thinks that we can fly it anywhere in the world if necessary, though he's still not sure what powers it. He says he suspects matter-antimatter reaction, but I'm fairly sure that's not a real thing, although I suppose that he'd know better than I do. For the moment, though, it might be the best plan. Cynthia won't leave her sister's side, and we know she'll be executed if caught, so we can't just drop Olivia off at a hospital and hope she'll recover for fear of risking Cynthia too. I'm sure none of us want that to happen. But if we can use the ship to get to some place else, say Russia or Africa, we could both give it to dissidents to deal with and get medical attention for Olivia. The big question is still whether or not we can fly the thing.

We're camped out by it now, and Adrian is trying to make sense of the controls. It's something of an awkward fit since we're so much shorter than the monster-or rather, Zaha-Katchem-was. It has a pretty tight interior, tall of course, but no more than a few square meters wide. I suspect that most of the space is taken up by the engines. I wonder if it has some kind of small warp drive, though I've never heard of one being fitted to a ship this small. I don't know how fast it is, but any trip in it would get cramped and uncomfortable very quickly.

I don't much like it myself. The interior and the exterior both have the same blackness as the creature from a few nights ago. It isn't just dark; it's almost as if the thing is absorbing all the light we shine on it. Even in full daylight, the shape and the edges are difficult to make out. Every once in a while, I see this shimmering motion travel across the hull. I don't know quite how to describe it; it's like when a duck shakes water off of its feathers, but this ship does it with light. I don't understand it myself, and Adrian isn't talking enough to explain whatever he's figured out. The inside is the same; black and impenetrable. There isn't even a window. The thought of spending an hour or two in there is not pleasant. I can only imagine what poor Olivia must have gone through for almost a week. Especially with what that thing must have been doing to her.