Monday, September 24, 2012

entry: 00007

Since Mr. Kim "disappeared" with no trace of his other family members, I feel even more motivated to fix my surroundings and get back home, despite what my parole officer says. "Ms. Adams, our offices have been receiving some...very interesting reports", he begins. His annoying voice is slow and deliberate. He commences giving me a Native Being Safety speech, but I'm too distracted by his lame 'human-like' disguise (bulbous eyes, thin cheeks, slightly green tinge...come on man!).
"Ms. Adams, we realize some of our detainees inherit certain benefits from living under this star, but we ask you to please refrain from assisting these creatures in their daily affairs for fear it may disrupt..."
"The space time continuum, yes, I know, but you can't expect me to sit around and do nothing while people suffer!".
"Ms. Adams, your sense of justice is admirable, but placing criminals into a stasis and leaving them at police headquarters is a violation of..."
"Wait, what? Stasis, no, that's not me!" He then proceeds to show me photos and reports about local drug dealers and thieves, waking up from mini-comas in the middle of police stations with evidence to convict. I feel a fearful joy within my heart...looks like we're not alone...

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

entry: 00006

Erwin and I sat and talked with "Mr. Kim" for over two hours..He and his family are refugees from Talaxia, my home world.  Apparently things are just as I left them.  Nishi, my sister (who exiled me here), runs our world with absolute power and oppression.  Sure, there's a congress of sorts, but it is now full of her supporters alone.  When I was home I sided with the people, fought with the people, right alongside my beloved; but he betrayed me...and so, here I am.  We laugh about the old ways but it's still hard for "Mr. Kim" to look me in the eye; he still thinks of me as Ku or nobility.  I ask if he might secretly carry an encrypted message out of the planet for me to Jairus, an old friend who owes me a favor.  We arranged to meet around the corner from a departure station aka abandoned silo (what else did you think they were used for?) the next day.  I am anxious to say the least.  I asked Vic to pass the info, because if I (or any other intergalactic parolee) come too close to a departure station, I get zapped into a crop circle if you catch my meaning.  We in the car for the signal, late summer rain pelting the windshield glass.  Suddenly a text from E...its an obituary from today.  I stare at the photo a good long while and sigh.  "Vic...let's go home."