August 9, 2054

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James has a fever, and his entire arm has turned black. I am freaking out. I don't know what to do to help him. I don't even know if there's anything I can do to help him. When I'm with him I try to remain calm. It is a trick Miller taught me to help patients at ease.

James has also begun to cough. He assures me he is fine, but I am just thinking of the blood I saw on the man's helmet before he killed Lee.

There is no doubt in my mind that this ailment will take James from me. I will have to bury him with the rest of our crewmates.

After that I don't know how I will find the strength to continue alone, but I will find a way. I have too. No matter what happens to James I made a promise to my son and my father. I will come back home alive.

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