I know we’re supposed to make these journal entries to help us cope with stress. Hell, I’m the one who suggested it. But I have to say, right now, it’s not helping. Do I think we’ll eventually solve all these problems and make this thing work? I…I think getting to the moon probably felt like an impossible thing to do at first. Who am I kidding? Right now, I don’t think we have a chance on Earth.

I might feel differently in the morning. Either way, I’ll get up and go back to work. There are simply too many breakthroughs waiting for us if we can understand how this machine works. We already know it can perform medical wonders. Who knows what else it can do?

That also scares me. Am I ready to accept all that may come out of this if it works? It might give us a cure for everything. It might also have the power to kill millions. Do I want that on my conscience? I wish I knew where this journey will take us, but I don’t. All I know is that this is bigger than me, my self-doubt, or any crisis of conscience. I now truly realize how profoundly insignificant I am compared to all this. Why does that make me feel so much better?

FILE NO. 042

EXPERIMENT LOG—CW3 KARA RESNIK, UNITED STATES ARMY

Location: Underground Complex, Denver, CO

This is Kara Resnik. Today is September 22. It’s three in the morning, so no one is monitoring me. I’m probably gonna get in trouble for this, but what else is new? Dr. Franklin came to see me at the hospital today—well, yesterday now. It’s obvious she feels responsible for what happened to me. I tried to make her understand this wasn’t on her. I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t have tried that thing on my own if she’d waited another day. She seemed devastated. Apparently, the whole project is on hold until they see if I suffer from any aftereffects. We’ll see about that.

She also told me I broke the helmet. I mean, really? I didn’t do anything! I just put it on my head, because…it’s a helmet? That’s what you’re supposed to do. I don’t buy that it’s broken either. I had an MRI today, I don’t have the results yet, but I’m pretty sure that alien device didn’t scramble my brain, so I don’t see how my brain could have broken it. OK, it’s not the best reasoning ever, but it repaired my eye, for God’s sake! Doctors couldn’t do that, and that thing did! I’m sorry, but I don’t think a machine that can do eye surgery after being buried underground for three thousand years is gonna break on account of my little head.

I’m not as smart as everyone else, but I think the pain was so intense because it repaired my eye. That, or it figured out that my brain isn’t what it’s supposed to be, and it adapted somehow. Either way, if it’s smart enough to fix me, I’m pretty sure it’ll find a way not to kill me. I have a gut feeling it may have—what’s the word—imprinted, when it adapted to my brain, like a baby duck. If I’m right, it thinks I’m its mommy now. I think that’s why it won’t turn on for anyone else anymore.

I know that wouldn’t explain why the other helmet doesn’t work, but like Dr. Franklin always says: one thing at a time. You can’t solve every problem at once. You see, Dr. Franklin: I was listening. Now I’m trying to solve one problem. I know what you’re gonna say: I haven’t even been discharged from the hospital yet. You and the doctors told me to stay put and get some rest. Well, I can’t rest if everything’s stopped because of me; and I don’t want to worry about that helmet knocking me out every time I put it on. This is me finding some peace of mind, so don’t get too mad when you find out what I’ve done. Unless I die in the next ten minutes. Then you can get mad all you want.

Also, don’t get mad at the hospital staff either. They probably thought I was going to the cafeteria, considering I told them I was going to the cafeteria.

I’m at the top of the stairs now. I think next time, if there’s a next time, I’ll bring two barstools with me, just for the satisfaction of throwing one down as hard as I can. I hate these things now. From now on, I’ll stand when I go to a bar.

You know what I’m doing, so I’m sparing you the play-by-play. Crouching, crouching. Opening the inner hatch…

I’m inside the sphere, going to brace myself in. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous. This seemed like a much better idea an hour ago. Then again, I get sweaty palms when I wanna ask a guy out, so, par for the course.

I have the helmet in my hands. I’ll put it on now, before I chicken out. Be nice, little fellow, Mommy’s here…

AAAAAAAHHHHHRRRRR!

Son of a…Helmet’s off! Come on! What is it with this thing?! It burned like hell. I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. Mommy’s pissed! Obviously, it wasn’t as bad as the last time if I’m still talking, but that thing really hates…

I…

I’ll be damned. I can’t feel much with these gloves on, but I think the cut on my forehead is gone. I can tell you the stitches are gone for sure.

OK, I must be crazy, because I’m putting it on again. I don’t see what else it could fix, except maybe some self-esteem issues. I wanna see what it does when it’s not healing things.

…

Whoa. This is just amazing!…Ha-ha! I don’t even know where to start. As soon as I put it on, the visor went from dark to clear and suddenly I could see everywhere. I mean, I can see everywhere, not just inside the chamber. I can see through the metal outside the torso, I can see the lab.

I can still see the sphere, the liquid around it, but all of it is translucent. In fact, if I focus on something outside, I can see it clear as day. If I look at something inside, then what’s outside gets dimmer. It gives a bronze hue to everything, like an old photograph.

Let me look around for a while. This is awesome. I know I sound like a complete moron, but I can’t find the words. What…is…this?

There’s a hologram, a miniature of the robot—about one foot tall—projecting out of the small column in front of me. It’s really cute. Dr. Franklin, I wish you could see how cool that thing is. I mean, I know what it’ll look like when we have all the pieces. It’s…out of this world. No pun intended. Other than the legs being weird, she looks like a normal badass-warrior human being. The head looks human, and there’s only one. Nice. The hologram is moving its head when I move mine. When I move my arms, it does exactly the same thing. It mimics every movement of my upper body. I suppose it will also move its legs as well once we get the other station working.

I’m flailing my arms around like a madwoman. The actual robot arm isn’t moving an inch. That’s probably a good thing because I’d have destroyed everything in the lab, but the hologram has no problem moving at all.

Dr. Franklin, I just realized you’ll probably never experience any of this firsthand, if the helmet won’t work for anyone but me. It breaks my heart that you can’t see what I’m seeing after all you did. But it works! You were right, Dr. Franklin! And you see there’s no reason to wait. Everything’s fine. Oh, and you’re stuck with me, for good.

Don’t worry about the arm not moving. It will probably work when we connect all the pieces, like those old Christmas lights from when I was a kid. If a single tiny light was missing, none of them would work.