Journal Entry 413 2023.202
The beauty of this place is unusually intense today. The sights, the sounds, massage my senses to an almost unbearable level. It reminds me of that brief moment during lovemaking when the pleasure almost hurts, it is so intense. But actually, the beauty is probably no more intense than usual. I would imagine it is just my senses that are. And why shouldn't they be? My life is wonderful! My wife and I enjoy our new positions, even though the project that we work on is so ominous. And we've found a new escape spot that is absolutely gorgeous! Is is probably one of only a few spots left that is this pristine. It's only a little over an hour away by rail. A short walk from the rail station and you are suddenly standing in the midst of tall pines; their country odor tickling your nostrils while fallen twigs snap a percussionist's beat under your feet and a crystal clear brook whispers in accompaniment. It is truly paradies!
I think that . . . oops. I've got to run. I'll continue this later.
Journal Entry 985 2025.017
I've got less than three hours now. Not much time to put a whole lifetime down on paper. But since the ship is nearly loaded and my wife is gathering up the last bit of real food we have, I thought the best way to spend my last hours here would be to jot down my thoughts on this place.
The is a very sad time for us all. The experiment has failed. After coming this far, after creating all of this beauty (and evil), to see the whole grand experiment end; mere words cannot convey the emptiness of it all. The saddest thing is, it could have been prevented.
As I sit here high above the river, nearly 800 feet up on my favorite perch, I can see for miles. The river used to look so beautiful from this height. Luckily, the distance hides its true appearance. Regardless of its condition, it still looks beautiful to me as it winds lazily through the canyon on its way home. By my feet, a gecko suns himself (or herself, as the case may be) on an outcropping of rock. Over there on the plateau is the shepherd who always waves to me. I've been coming up here for nearly three years and though I've never met him, he always waves when he sees me. Just to the left of him is the local school, which serves a 30-mile area on the plateau as well as down in the canyon. I wish I could tell them all. I wish I could warn the shepherd and prepare the children. But I can't.
Those of us in the scientific community fell a tremendous amount of burden for what has happened. Once the discovery was made, it took an inordinate amount of time before anyone in the government would listen to us. Convincing the politicos that their major industries were at fault, major industries who supplied jobs for thousands of constituents, was a hard task. It was shameful for them to finally admit to it. But it wasn't the only shameful situation. Greed, like petroleum, seeps into everything. There were those in our ranks who were paid not to submit papers with their negative findings to the major journals. There were those who were paid to manipulate data to undermine our efforts. Worst of all, none of us foresaw the speed at which it would happen.
The evidence however, is irrefutable. This catastrophe is the reason for the polar meltdown. It is the reason for the catastrophic loss of our coastal cities and the epidemic of cancer among us. It is the reason we must leave.
My wife and I are one of seven couples who will venture again into the unknown. We've been preparing for this day for two and a half years. Only the Commander-in-Chief and our director know of this program. We've had to learn an enormous amount of information and test new propulsion theories in a very short amount of time. We are all very tired. This has been a very taxing job, to say the least. But not nearly as taxing as knowing that life as we know it here will end soon.
While I know there is still a little time, it is still nonetheless hard to accept that in a short while, most of my family and friends will perish. It is best this way though. The pestilence, the hunger, the senseless destruction of life by self-righteous activist groups like E2, has made life here unbearable. And while most of the recently released data suggests there are still two or three years left on this old planet, the government has decided the humane thing to do is to finish what they have started - quickly.
Hopefully, some in our group will be successful enough to begin the experiement again. We have the benefit of hindsight to help us know. We know how we destroyed the atmosphere, and ultimately, our lives. We know too, how to progress in harmony with our surroundings. Since only men and women of science and the arts form our group, hopefully the animal Politicus Monsterous will soon be extinct. And rightly so.
While none of us is supposed to know our destination, I stumbled onto some of the information recently. I know where my wife and I will be going, but not the others. And while I do not know their destinations, and while communication will be impossible, it is somehow comforting to know that when my wife and I settle our new home, though physically alone, we will have the Divine and the thoughts of our compatriots to comfort us.
My wife has just signaled me. Our time is near. As I gaze out over this beautiful canyon one more time, I am both afraid and excited. There are so many questions now; so few answers. But in a few short days, the answers will begin to come. In a few short days we should be at our new home, MWG3, the third planet from the sun in our neighboring galaxy. I just hope this time we do it right.
- - - Adam
