2175 C.E.

X: Rumors in the Night

The Thoughts of Yong An-Hong: Translated by Alexandra Yuan: Copyright 2205, Centauri University Press: Hanson Harbor, Nova

07/24/2175

Some very troubling rumors have reached my ears in recent days. In them, the President has called high level meetings with the generals and admirals inquiring about the readiness of the Terran Star Fleet in comparison to Grushan and Novan forces. I have been told that he seems eager to attempt an invasion of Nova and reclaim it for Earth. I have lived with rumors great and small since I entered public office; the great project of humanity hasn't changed that. In fact, in ways, the Interlink makes rumors easier to spread. But this, to me, seems different. I had lunch with Ambience CEO Shen Wai-Fun today, and he shared with me that he had also heard these rumors. He said he had spoken personally with Admiral Gottred, who attended the meeting.

If this meeting occurred, then I am very worried for many reasons. Why have I not been made privy to this meeting? It would seem that the President may not trust me any longer. If so, will he dispose of me? I am an elected official; I hope there would be public outrage if he attempted such a thing. The Americans would declare it a constitutional crisis and demand an immediate investigation through Terran Internal Intelligence Commission. Of course, if Shen and Hillman take action on the President's behalf, the world may only think about my ousting for a week before the matter is forgotten. All important matters of state should involve me, at least peripherally, as a matter of course.

This may be in line with the recent failure of my Interlink device. Today, it continued to deactivate as it has done for the past several days. I am becoming greatly concerned with my own health, and the health of my device. Could it be that the malfunctions are related to the President's apparent mistrust of me? It may be so.

Odd dreams have begun to trouble my rest as well. Twice in this week the vision has come to me in the night. In it, I am walking through the grounds of my estate in Shanghai, my childhood home which I have not visited in many years. The ceiling is darkness, like fog. I seem to be searching for something, but I do not recall what it is. As I search, it seems that I am observed by something, a shadowy shape from behind. I try to find out what it is, but it eludes me, drawing me deeper and deeper into shadow. I hear whispering of voices around me speaking in an alien tongue. I try to find my way out of the shadow, but I only wander deeper, and the whispering becomes louder. Then I see fire rise up along the walls beside me; my home is on fire. I run to the window and see Beijing outside me burning; I try to contact the President, the military, anyone who can help, but no answer comes. Then a dark creature appears before me and tosses me out of the window into the fire below.

It is a strange dream, all the stranger because it never varies; three times it has visited me in the past seven. Once I awoke in sweat and fear; the dread has lessened since then. Probably, hopefully it is a result of Interlink feedback, perhaps the same as my device's error.

Personal Journal: William Aucaman

07/24/2175, 6:14 AM

I haven't gotten any sleep yet. Normally, I'm good for all-nighters; I pull them all the time to keep up with my classes and my day to day work, but tonight has been unique in many, many ways. I haven't felt this exhausted since the day my family had to transport grizzly bears from Yellowstone into the Canadian steppes. I don't do sports, and I'm not used to being hunted rather than being the hunter; I can say with absolute certainty that I will never think of killing a deer the same way again.

The sun is starting to rise. Cynthia and Brent are both asleep now; Brent's ribs are giving him a whole lot of trouble, and Cynthia's leg is no better. I'm staying awake because I'm still basically uninjured, although my shoulder is very sore still. But there hasn't been any more activity from the woods, and the creature is still very much dead. It started attracting flies shortly after the sun rose, which is unusual, but maybe something about this species makes it decompose faster or something. It certainly decomposes strangely. When we put it in the cellar, it was three meters tall from heel to horn; now, it's only about two and a half meters. It seems to have grown a pair of wings, like a giant flying squirrel or butterfly, not powerful, I'd say, but able to give it some gliding distance. The limbs have turned all thin and armored. It's almost like looking at a large insect, but with an almost mammalian face. I say this based on what it looks like it might have been before I stabbed its eyes out and Cynthia shot it in the face. The body seems to have changed color too; before, it was black like the inside of a cave, and absorbed any light we shone on it; now, it's an earthy brown, and hairy. I wouldn't have believed it was the same creature if all the wounds hadn't aligned with what we gave it. Its face was virtually blown to bits by the shotgun; it had gaping holes in the shoulder and chest, and stab and burn marks on its lower leg. How this thing was dressed up as the black creature we fought last night I can't imagine.