Ship Record: Crew is restless. It is the opinion of our top statisticians and scientists that we should not fulfill our mission for planet-landing at this point. The surface is too dangerous. Communication with Earth has been severed. We cannot expect aid from other sources, and we cannot defend ourselves outside the ship. We will conduct a vote with the crew, explaining the situation. It is my recommendation that the crew remains on board the ship where it is safe. Our needs are provided for, and the ship’s external engines can be redirected to internal maintenance.

Date: 328518

Ship Status: Orbital

Ship Record: Mutiny. The ship’s crew did not see the logic of staying aboard, despite my protests. There has been significant loss of life. My scientists, however, have developed a method of influencing them to obedience.

Amy and I look up at each other. “This is the Plague, isn’t it?” she asks. “This is where Phydus came from. This—this ‘captain’—he’s the first Eldest.”

I nod.

“Shh,” Bartie snaps.

Date: 328603

Ship Status: Orbital

Ship Record: A way of life has resumed with increasing stability. The crew is once more submissive. We will work on rebuilding our numbers. In the event that communication can be resumed with Earth or aid otherwise received, we can still commence with planet-landing. Until that point, with conservation and careful production, the internal functions of the ship should subsist for countless generations.

Orion sets the papers down on the control panel at the front of the bridge in the exact same spot Bartie found them.

ORION: So, that’s why we can’t land. I’m not a frexing chutz; I get what’s going on here. The Plague Eldest was right to keep us on board the ship. I’ve seen the armory—you’ve seen it too. There are weapons there. . . .

Orion shakes his head in disbelief. My eyes are on Victria.

ORION: Amy, surely you know that those weapons aren’t normal. . . . If the Plague Eldest says that there are monsters on Centauri-Earth that those weapons can’t kill . . .

He shakes his head again.

ORION: And besides, think about it. Think about those weapons.

Orion leans forward, closer to the camera. All four of us lean in closer too.

ORION: You think those frozens in the cryo chambers are going to use ’em? Frex, no. That’s what we’re here for.

Orion stands up, walks to the window, stares a minute, comes back.

ORION: See this?

Orion picks up the camera and angles it to show ten empty circles on the floor. As one, all four of us look up, over to the far wall and the ten hollow depressions in the floor.