The fifty of us who inhabit it will continue to work in our fully-equipped laboratory, where we’ll develop a spaceship that uses this new wormhole drive that Dr. Braxton has been secretly developing. Once it is working we can use it to travel to another star system, where we can sell the technology to dying worlds and become rich beyond our wildest dreams.

The best part of all is that we will at last be rid of all those other people, clamoring and shouting and trying to save us all from the wrath to come. I have become so sick of their lack of tolerance, and it will be great when they’re all gone at last.

We are going to survive, and that makes me very happy.

Posted by Arnold Brandon on March 15, 2815

The folks on Larson’s Folly were shocked to see us enter their airspace and land. They had called for help a year ago but they never expected to actually get any. We could have told them that we were coming if their receiver had been working, but it wasn’t so we just had to hope that they’d be ok until we got there. They all were, except for fifty of them that we just could not find. I don’t know where they had disappeared to, but I hope they’ll be ok.

During the evacuation, Dr. Durant asked how on earth we could have answered their call. I told him that during the past decade we’d made the same discovery he did, only instead of using it to build a wormhole transporter (which was a good idea, by the way) we used it to build a wormhole drive. It’s not a really efficient one, but it was good enough to make a pretty decent starship. Once we got their call we headed out, and it only took us about ten months to travel the 40 light-years between our home and Larson’s Folly – and that, my friends, is really moving. There’s no way you could do that without wormhole travel.

We did look at their transporter while we were here, and we tweaked it a bit and actually got it to work. Durant was right; they really were just off a little bit on their basic parameters, which I don’t think could be helped, judging by the archaic computing equipment they have here. We decided to leave it intact and working, just in case they ever came back.

When I asked them where they wanted to go they told us that they would be glad to go back home with us if we would be willing to have them. I told ‘em that would be fine, and they were glad to hear it.

So today we’re moving out! This is the last message we’re leaving behind. If you’re looking for us, you’ll find us at the coordinates to this message.

Take care, one and all!

Posted by Captain Jeff Newcomb on March 26, 2815

Our new home has been a good one. Captain Newcomb’s people have been very generous; they have given us a large continent entirely to ourselves, and we have put it to good use. We have built new cities on it and have started a new civilization. Our relationship with Captain Jeff Newcomb’s people has proven to be mutually beneficial: they have shared their wormhole transporter technology and we in turn have supplied them with the zero-point-energy plants they need to power them. Together we have set out to explore the galaxy – but our results have been disappointing. We have found many devastated planets but so far no inhabited ones; the civil war that raged more than two hundred years ago appears to have killed everyone and left only ourselves as survivors. There may yet be others who have survived, for the galaxy is a large place, but that hope is beginning to fade.

We were surprised to learn that any part of Larson’s Folly still survived – in fact, so certain were we that the entire planet was vaporized that we didn’t even think to check for seventy years. When our astronomers did point their megascopes toward our former home they found small bits of rock – and, of all things, this research station.

No one really knows how this station survived when everything else was vaporized. Charlie (whose mental condition has not improved with age) tells us that the base was on the opposite side of the planet where the shockwave hit, and perhaps this is so; still, I don’t know why it was permitted to survive. All of it is not intact, but a lot of it is and some systems are even still functional.

Enough of that. My thoughts today, as I walk these halls as a very old man for what will likely be the last time, rest on Brandon – and Flora.

When I left the planet I had no idea what had become of Arnold Brandon and the others that were missing. We searched high and low for them before we left on the Dolly May but they could not be found, and we eventually just had to leave. Now, thanks to Charlie, I know why I could not find them.

None of us had any idea what Brandon was up to in those final days. We thought he killed Flora but we didn’t know why. None of us knew about his secret hideaway or his plans to survive at the expense of everyone else. It all makes sense now – a certain kind of tragic sense. Brandon murdered Flora in order to save his life, but he ended up only killing himself and his friends. Had he not murdered Flora he might still be alive today.

What Brandon did not realize was that everyone will die eventually. Yes, we did survive the destruction of Larson’s Folly, but our time will still come. The long life I have been blessed with is rapidly approaching its end, and I know I will soon be going home to be with my Lord. None of us actually escaped death; we just delayed it, for death is still coming for each and every one of us. Some of us are ready to die and do not fear it, but others are not.

Brandon was content to live as he saw fit and ignore death, not pausing to consider what was coming. Was their life after death? Must all stand before God and give an account of their life? He didn’t really care; he wasn’t interested in what would happen to him in those endless ages of time that he would spend as a dead man. Such a short time is spent alive and such a very long time is spent dead, and yet those who seek to know their final destination are few indeed. Brandon was content to ignore the question and bet his eternal existence on a vague feeling, and he will spend eternity reaping the consequences of that decision.

There are so few that spend time seeking the answer to matters that will affect them forever. Yet there are those who not only seek the answers, but find them and take great comfort in them.

It is time for me to go; the group is waiting on me to finish this entry so that we can return home. The transporter in the wormhole lab works fine; it can no longer track our planet, but once the coordinate is entered one can simply step across it onto our world. I do not expect to make another trip back. My work, however, is done: Larson’s Folly is dead, but its people are safe and will remain safe for a long time to come.

Posted by Dr. Henry Durant on March 26, 2929

Flora had to go, of course: she was getting close to figuring out what we had been using Charlie for. If she found out what we were trying to do, it would cause a real mess: people would see it as an attempt at saving ourselves at the expense of everyone else (when in fact it was just an attempt at saving a few people instead of letting everyone die), and it would have created a real mess. Flora couldn’t be permitted to keep poking around.

So, late last night – it was after 10:30pm – she and a friend of hers wandered into my cafeteria. They had been up late working on a problem relating to the wormhole transporter, and they wanted to get a bite to eat before retiring for the night. The two of them wandered over to the counter, and I served them what they ordered. No one else was in the cafeteria, and that made it even easier.

I knew I had to get a poison that would work fast: I wanted her to die instantly so that there was no chance of her being revived. A little research turned up just what I wanted, and it was easy enough to slip it into her drink. She would notice the taste, of course, but by that time it would be too late. She would be dead within seconds.

I stood behind the counter and watched them as they walked over to a table, sat down, gave thanks for their meal, and started eating. They were laughing and joking, unwinding after a hard day’s work. Then Flora lifted the cup and drank it.

I watched her every move. She must have been really thirsty because she took a long drink (far more than enough to kill her) and the drug hit while she was still gulping it down. She changed; her hand relaxed, allowing the glass to slip out and shatter on the floor. Her friend jumped up to help her, but Flora had already slumped out of her chair and onto the floor. She was dead.

But she didn’t die right. When we took out Cornell, you could see on his face that he knew he was dying: just as the poison gripped him you could see in his eyes the terrible fear – horror that he was dying, and terrible hatred toward the person he knew did it to him. He knew he was dying and it terrified him, and it was immensely satisfying watching him go into the darkness.

With Flora it was different. As her glass was falling to the floor her gaze strayed into the hallway (the last move she ever made) and her eyes widened. It was as if she had just caught sight of someone she had waited all her life to meet and she just couldn’t wait to introduce herself – only there was no one in the hallway. Nobody. I didn’t see any fear on her face; it was almost as if something else had her attention and she didn’t even notice that she was dying.

After she hit the floor, she stopped breathing, and her friend sounded the alarm. People came running from all directions, and doctors were there within minutes and pronounced her dead on the spot. She was cremated the next morning – she wanted to be buried, but we cremated her over the protests of her friends and relatives to make doubly sure that she wasn’t coming back. Her ashes have been scattered and there is now nothing left of her.

So why does she still haunt me? Why do I feel like she is still alive, just out of reach?

Posted by Arnold Brandon on December 31, 2814

Created by Dr. Anna Braxton on December 1, 2814 AD.

Purpose: Creation of a spaceship capable of traveling faster-than-light by the employment of a wormhole drive.

Status: Based on tectonic readings and scans from the starship Dolly May, it is clear that this station was destroyed in the breakup of the planet on March 28, 2815 AD. The crust of the planet shattered in unexpected ways and the base would have been completely pulverized, killing any who were in it at the time. The base, therefore, has been classified as closed.

I watch with great dread as he opens a great, thick book filled with many names. The names are read aloud, and those whose names were found in it go through a gate and are seen no more. When the last name is read the book is closed – and I am still standing there, along with many others.

At this point I feel myself falling. Words from the one who sits on the throne are thundering at me and I do my best to shut them out. Blackness begins to overcome me, and I can see nothing. It is getting warmer…

…and then I wake up, screaming and shaking in fear. I don’t know what it means and I don’t want to know what it means. But I am scared and I wonder what is happening to me. It must be just a dream.

Posted by Arnold Brandon on March 17, 2815

We did our very best to build a wormhole transporter. Ever since I got the idea five years ago I have been pursuing it, first via theoretical mathematics and computer simulations and afterward through direct experiments. The breakthrough came on April 22, 2814 when we had the accident in the lab upstairs. Once I realized why the accident had happened and what I had achieved I realized where we had gone wrong, and from there it only took us four months to have a miniature working model of a wormhole transporter.

At first all it could do was move a mouse a few inches, but as we refined our theories we made tremendous progress. By mid-September we could living transport objects weighing hundreds of pounds over a distance of two hundred miles. From that point we continued to make steady progress, and it looked like we just might make it – until Flora died.

When she died my hopes for success died as well. She was the only person in the world who could keep Charlie together, and as soon as she was gone Charlie’s matrix collapsed and we never got him to work properly again. A lot of people suspect that foul play was involved in her death, and I’ve been suspicious myself, although I have no idea what anyone could hope to gain by her death.

We kept trying after she died but we all knew it was hopeless. We had to use Charlie to refine our calculations, and without him there was nothing we could do. You can’t build anything by random chance, especially a wormhole transporter.

But we kept trying, right up until today. We promised that we would try until the end of February, and today the end of February has come. We haven’t made an inch of progress since Flora’s death and it’s very clear that we’re not going to. It’s maddening: I all but can guarantee that all we have wrong are a few parameters, but there’s no way we can find those out now.

Today is February 28, 2815. The blast will hit the planet on March 28, exactly one month from now. During that month we will prepare the best we can. God may still save us yet; it’s impossible to say what might happen, and His might, which created the universe, is certainly far more than sufficient to save us from it.

I wish we could build a safe haven on this planet, but it’s impossible. Jay Cheves in the astronomy department has told me that there are just too many unknowns to make any accurate predictions. We don’t know what the shockwave is composed of, how it will hit us, or how big it will be, and without knowing any of those things we can’t possibly determine how the shockwave will break up the planet.

Well, all I can say is that we tried. From here on out, as always, the future rests in the hands of God. Remember us, Lord, and have mercy on us.

Posted by Dr. Henry Durant on February 28, 2815

Flora could have done that in a heartbeat, but of course she was murdered by Brandon & Company. I guess she stepped on his toes once too many times and he decided to flex his political muscle and do something about her. That man has no conscience at all, and the authorities at the base aren’t exactly bleeding hearts either. I can’t believe they wouldn’t even investigate it; they said it would be too “divisive” and would distract from their primary mission. You would think that at the very least they would be upset at losing the one person they had who could keep Charlie running, but they don’t seem concerned at all.

I’ve heard rumors that certain people have drawn up a backup plan but I don’t have any proof of that. I don’t know what it could possibly be but that might account for the way they are acting. I do know, though, that there is no escape for them: one day they will stand before a God that they have openly hated and give an account of everything they have done. They have murdered someone for whom Christ shed His blood to save: do they really think that God is not going to care, especially when they despised His mercy and rebuffed His offer of forgiveness?

Flora was guilty of only one crime: she believed there was only one way to God, and she shared her beliefs with others in an attempt to save them. She made many enemies that hated what she stood for and longed to silence her, and now at last they have succeeded.

It is truly heartbreaking.

It’s looking more and more likely that we are all going to die soon: the deadline is less than two months away. Regardless of what happens I know my final destination; there is strife here now, but I will live to see it end.

Posted by Morton West on February 19, 2815

Transmissions through the data link have stabilized at 4.6 terabytes per second, and will be maintained for the duration.

Posted by AI unit Charlie on December 28, 2814

Posted by AI unit Charlie on March 28, 2815

Given the fact that research and construction into such a ship would likely take several years and the planet was going to be destroyed on March 28 of 2815, it was decided to build a base that could survive the destruction of a planet. With this in mind, Dr. Braxton used Charlie to determine how the planet was likely to break up, and from there determine where to place this base and how to build it. The calculations were done in mid-November and construction began immediately.

The existence of the base has been classified due to the fact that it can only support 50 people. A larger base could have been constructed, but Dr. Braxton, based on input from Arnold Brandon, decided that 50 people would be sufficient to continue the project and the others on the planet were expendable.

The base was outfitted with everything necessary to support life for several years, and its occupants were chosen carefully by a select committee. On March 15, 2815, Dr. Braxton gathered the group and set off for this hidden base, leaving no indication about what they were doing. Dr. Harold Webb closed down the Larson’s Folly Spatial Mechanics laboratory on March 19, 2815, right on schedule.

The last communication received from the hidden base took place on March 18, 2815 as a few last items were downloaded from Charlie’s matrix. No more communications have been received, but details in the last communication indicate that all 50 people made it to the hidden base and were there when the shockwave hit.

Posted by AI unit Charlie on January 1, 3094

I really wish that Charlie wasn’t acting crazy, but ever since the overclocked matrix became unstable he just hasn’t been the same. We tried restoring the default settings, but even a normal matrix isn’t stable for very long. Flora would definitely be able to restore the matrix stability, but of course she’s dead and isn’t able to help us.

Boy, did her death ever raise problems! Her friends were livid and demanded an investigation into Arnold Brandon, asking why only she died of food poisoning when everyone on this base ate the same food. What nerve they have, making such an accusation against Arnold! Besides, they’re always saying how they’re ready to die and meet their Maker, so I don’t see why they should be so upset when someone helps them along. You’d think they would be thrilled. Fortunately no one listened to the little whiners, and it all died down after a few weeks.

It’s becoming more and more obvious that the wormhole transporter isn’t going to work: it just doesn’t have the range, and with Charlie’s matrix shot to pieces there’s no easy way to find out how to give it more range. They might still work something out, though – but if they don’t, at least we have a backup plan, so it’s no great loss.

Before Charlie’s matrix collapsed a few of us ran some calculations to find out what parts of the planet would remain intact when the shockwave hits. Once we found out we started building a base there. We’re stocking it with equipment and have hit upon an idea: the wormhole transporter that we’ve built so far could be modified and placed on a spaceship to make a faster-than-light propulsion unit. It would take a few years, but since the underground base will survive we ought to have the time.

Since not much of the planet will survive when the plasma hits us the base can’t be very large; it’ll hold 50 of us at most, and there are thousands of people on this planet. I agree with Arnold: only the fittest should survive, and that would be us.

Posted by Charles Brandon on February 8, 2815

Born: July 18, 2776
Died: —-

Physical Appearance: Thinning gray hair, gray eyes, 5′ 11″, strong build. This person is the brother of Arnold Brandon, and he looks it.

Discipline: Has a degree in cooling systems and theoretical chemistry.

Occupation: Spends most of his time maintaining the capacitors at the Larson’s Folly Spatial Mechanics laboratory and ensuring that they don’t melt down and destroy half the planet. His official position is chief chemical engineer, and is responsible for the chemistry department on this research station.

Security clearance: Gamma Prime.

Last updated: January 1, 2815

Posted by Arnold Brandon on December 27, 2814

And really, I don’t see Flora complaining. She’s going to die in a couple more months anyway; how could it possibly matter if we speed things up a bit? It all ends the same anyway. I’m sure her friends would say that we’ll have to answer to God for this, but I’ll take my chances.

Posted by Arnold Brandon on December 28, 2814

Posted by AI unit Charlie on January 1, 3094

Really, though, it was hopeless all along. Even if some planet did pick up our distress signals, what could they do? Nobody has ever invented a means of traveling faster than light. It would have taken ten years for a sublight rescue ship from the nearest habited star system to reach us, and our doom is only one year away.

So much can be blamed on that stupid war! If those bureaucrats had minded their own business we wouldn’t be in this situation, but no: they had to get into squabbles, and before you knew it everything was destroyed – and here we are, about to be fried because some star decided it was a good time to explode.

What were people thinking when they decided to colonize the galaxy without a means of traveling faster than light? Sure, tachyons are nice, but you can only transport non-living things. Transporting supplies is easy; transporting people is impossible. Communication is in realtime, and by using proxybots you can even “visit” remote places: you get in your VR suit, establish a tachyon link with a robot on your intended destination, and voila: you see what your proxybot sees, and you can walk around, do things, and whatever.

All that worked fine until the war broke out, and politicians decided to use tachyon transport beams to materialize droids and bombs instead of supplies. The next thing you know industry was destroyed, most planets were leveled, and commerce was dead. Larson’s Folly was spared a lot of the disaster because we were so far from the center of things, but even we got hit, leaving us with a damaged receiver, no way to get supplies, and no functional spaceships. We can’t even get into planetary orbit anymore.

We survived – yes, we survived, and somehow over the past hundred years since the war we’ve managed to stabilize our planet, until that star went and exploded. Now what are we going to do?

All of our hopes rest on Durant’s crazy machine, which he wants to use to bend space so that distant planets are right next door. No offense, Henry, but I’ll believe it when I see it. Personally, I think it’s over.

And what are people doing? Holding prayer groups, for crying out loud! Asking some supreme being to come down and magically rescue us. These people need to get a grip. Maybe Brandon was right about them after all. At least he has a solution to surviving the end of the world that doesn’t involve black magic disguised as machinery – or calling people who aren’t there.

Posted by Matthew Oakley on April 28, 2814

Even with the new configuration it’s still going to take some time to get the answers Dr. Braxton needs, but at least it is possible now. Who knows: perhaps we’ll get off this lousy rock after all.

I’ve seen the prototype transporter that Dr. Durant’s designed and it is just amazing. Imagine a window sitting in a room. You can look through the window and see a vast green field, but the difference is that the field isn’t outside – it’s actually a hundred miles away – but you can still get there simply by crawling through it, as if the window was an ordinary window and the field was just inches away. You really have to see it to believe it.

Of course we want to be transported two light-years, not a hundred miles. Sardis is going to overhaul the power plant soon to produce the quantity of energy Dr. Braxton says she needs. It’ll be a chore, but Sardis will find a way – he always does.

I’m beginning to allow myself to hope again. Maybe we can get off this rock. Maybe we can cheat death. Knowing that you are under a death sentence is horribly frightening: it knocks the wind right out of you. I don’t want to die: I’ve barely started living. Death is cold, hard, empty: it frightens me.

I don’t see how people like Flora and Sardis could be so, well, cheerful over the whole thing! They act as if going to see God was a wonderful thing and ignore the reality of the situation. Sure, Jesus might have been a good moral teacher, and I like the idea of treating others with kindness, but they take it too far.

It’s probably too soon to get my hopes up, but I am hopeful. Maybe we’ll lick this thing after all. We’ve just got to: what will happen to us if we fail?

Posted by Enid Crager on September 13, 2814