No Longer Alone
So, it’s been a little while since I last recorded a log. I promise it’s for a good reason.
For one, events regarding the ship itself have been rather sparse. We haven’t heard any signals or communications, we haven’t come across any other life, we haven’t even had so much as a passing asteroid or anything else of that nature. It has just been empty quiet space.
Sarah and I have been getting along really well. After our little picnic a few months back, we’ve generally spent a lot more time out on the simulated farm, just getting to know each other. I’ve told her a lot about my duties on this ship, a lot of about my life before I became captain, and a lot about the history of our species, at least as far as I know.
Sarah’s history is, frankly, a fair bit different. She grew up on a ship that was overcrowded from the day she was born. There was little joy amongst her people. Everyone was kept busy, there was minimal entertainment, and supplies for personal growth were low. Sarah found some joy in crafting small dolls, usually sewn with threads gathered meticulously from spoiled clothes, and other scrap pieces of fabric. They had no holographic simulations, they had few books (of which all were educational or emphasized the ‘glory’ of the ‘Tika’ spirit). Even food was dull.
On the Tailspin though, she has been insatiable. Constantly trying new food combinations. Constantly trying new forms of entertainment. At one point she intentionally cultured a deadly fungal disease amongst the simulated beet roots, just to see how the computer would adapt. Normally the computer simulates the disease and we’re supposed to snuff it out. Sarah is the first person in the record of this program who intentionally spread the disease ‘just to see what would happen.’
She’s at a point where the training programs in the reality dome just aren’t enough for her. She has this sort of attitude of “what’s next?” any time we try to goof around in it. I’ve decided to ask Flint to see if he can figure out if there is any form of coding program somewhere in the ship’s computer network, that would allow us to create new training programs, or at least just new places to sort of hang out. In the mean time, I’m just going to keep treating Sarah to fancy foods and see what else I can learn about her.
Ginger still isn’t speaking to us. We’ve been making attempts at communication, but she refuses to speak. On some nights, I hear Sarah in the hall outside her quarters, talking about her day, and telling Ginger about how it would be nice if they could just talk sometimes. I have left them alone at times like this, as it doesn’t feel right to intrude. Hopefully they make a connection soon.