Butterflies of the Dark Star

LOG 005

TERMINAL: ONLINE

USER: Intern Researcher TeI-MEa of the B.H Supernova Space Station.

DRONE: SCANNING. MESSAGES UNABLE TO SEND.

MESSAGES:

I still remember the look on your face — how big your eyes got when I made mention of my starday. It was the sense of 'oh fuck' that made me laugh; forgetting a starday isn't the end of a world. Time reaches a point where it tends to slip through your fingers.

But... it seems to slip through yours a lot.

Do you just struggle to keep time?

You were given a watch for your starday — poetic irony, you said — you proceeded to lose it and upturn the dorm looking for it.

We never did find it.

It's hard to go through life, watching it go by you.

Maybe I was a little envious of that.

I obsess over the future.

I obsess over something I can't change.

And then you looked me in the eye and said 'You just gave me an idea'.

It's my fault.

(MESSAGE UNABLE TO SEND)

Time is weird isn't it

—

I can't do it

I want to tear it out

I need to—

(MESSAGE FAILED)

LOG:

Silly terminal. It's never done that before. You were doing so well spelling my very easy name. At least, I think it's easy. Maybe it's harder than it looks. Three syllables... kinda flows off the tongue in my opinion. Teimea. Teimea. Teimea.

Okay, stop.

Fifth log; we're off to a great start. If you can hear my sarcasm then it's because I'm being facetious... whoever is going to listen to this apart from me? Okay, future me, if you can hear my sarcasm, it's because I am. We shall continue to ramble words until we run out of them. That is to say, I never will. Bad memory and the need for a reminder trumps that.

Log five, or six — I'll say it's five though. Five sounds right.

Weird that I'm not sure. I've been counting.

Keep it on track, Neo — I've spent time with the anomaly that I've been losing track of time. It gives me the same readings; same sensations. Of course, no one else seems to struggle with timey things, I'm envious of that. I wish I could just think, ah yes, it is... that specific time, and not something vague like 'it is... afternoonish —oh wait no, I blinked and it is now dead in the night. How'd that happen?'

...

Nova hasn't been herself since we came here.

Practical minded. Always looking at different angles. A problem solver. I never knew her to face a problem she couldn't figure out — not getting lost in the concept and just... doing it. I wish I could do things — I mean, I can do things, but... I also can't do the things I should be doing. It's like the idea of doing said things makes me a deer in the headlights. She was always great at that. Just doing things.

It worried me when at the start of the shift she didn't seem to want to get up. It's unlike her. I asked her if she was feeling okay, and she didn't respond.

Though, unlike me where if I don't say something I'm pretty sure I'll explode, Nova always had this... quiet drive, to get to work and fix it. I mean, she was never reluctant to talk about things.

Befuddling.

It is one thing to sort out your own problems before sharing it with someone close to you. It's... quite another to look at me as if I'm some sort of zombie.

Or dead, I guess.

As I said, irregular. If—

...

No. Nope. Nope. Get that out of your head, Teimea. Bad. Stupid.

I shouldn't talk about her in that way.

Anomalies are one thing. I study, examine and observe data in an objective way for what we consider 'inanimate' anomalies. It's a different ballpark when anomalies are considered a 'lifeform'. A living, breathing thing, with desire, no matter how simple or basic or complex. Some of the older generation of anomalous scientists in the IAR cling to the belief that to give connection between us and the anomalies are discomforting at best — and horrifying at worst.

But I know what I believe.

Anomalies lifeforms, whether people like it or not, are alive. We seek to understand, but to do that, we must understand ourselves and our place as we share the universe with these anomalies.

Nova, and her behaviour are not anomalies.

She's my best friend and deserves more than that.

Something is bothering her and studying her like she's some sort of irregularity - that she's acting in such a way.

No.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

I spent too much time with the anomaly. I don't want it to reach a point where that's all I see around me.

I hear it in the distance.

It gets louder near her.

Stop. I need to stop. I'll ask her how she's doing later.

I'll try again.

I won't make her tell me, but the least I can do is be there for her.

And tell her I'm—

LOG END: -S O R R Y-