Interesting night.

I stared after the ship for about twenty seconds. It was big and low, a complicated mass of reflected sunlight about the size of my hand when I stretch out my arm, sliding down the dome of the sky towards the horizon. It seemed to be all spikes. It moved slowly and completely silently.

Very clearly, I realised: Green’s got to know about this and How do I ring their doorbell?

I dashed down to the foyer. The Hotel was highlighting my own door, but theirs was dark, whichever it was. There was no time to play with the pedestal, so I ran outside, round the building to the shore side of the Hotel and shouted up at their open window. Unfortunately, by the time Black came to the window, the ship had long since dropped below the horizon.

They met me in the foyer, a little puzzled. I told Green about the ship. I’m not sure she believed me at first, but eventually they started arguing furiously. I left them to it and went outside, scanning the sky. Nothing.

Eventually Green came out and joined me in the cool evening air.

“You say there is a ship?” she said. “I do not know. If you see a ship then you say you see a ship. If you not see a ship then you not say a ship. You pain. You not see a ship then you say you see a ship.”

(I think that’s what she said. Her syntax was convoluted and clunky and her exact words were difficult to recall. I got the gist, however.)

“I did see a ship,” I replied. “There really was a ship.”

She asked where it was. I pointed to the horizon. “It flew over and down there.”

She said that the device for seeing ships a long way off—a radar?—was in the Pentagon. I sprinted over; it was about a kilometre away. When I arrived, very out of breath, I discovered that the door would not, of course, open for me, no matter how hard I wanted. I returned rather more slowly back to where Green was studying the sky. By this time the yellow sun was below the horizon and the sky was flushed with crimson.

“I see zero ships,” she said.

She was right. It had gone. Where was it?

Surely it had seen the island as it flew over. It can’t have been that far up. Given how little land there was on this planet, from what I remembered of the trip down on the shuttle, it can’t have been coincidence that it had flown over the island.

More importantly, what was it? My long-awaited rescue ship? A warship?

What sort of people were flying it? Humans? Sealin? The mysterious Enemy?

Black joined us, and we spent about an hour watching the sky before finally giving up and going to bed.

[break]

It’s back again.

I woke up just after dawn, anticipation hollowing my stomach. Today was special for two reasons: the next megastorm might hit today, and I might get off the planet today. I ate breakfast—cereal—sitting in the big chair watching the sky.

At 1622 by my watch (still not set to local time; this was about half an hour after I got up) it flew past again.

It appeared off to the left of my my field of view, and proceeded across and down until it disappeared behind the horizon.

I got a rather better look at it this time. It was very pale against the blue sky, as if I was seeing it through a haze. It was obviously a lot larger than I thought; it hardly foreshortened as it crossed the horizon. It must have been hundreds of metres long, if not thousands.

In shape, it is roughly cylindrical. One end consists of a mass of radially arranged spikes, while the other end fans out into a hollow cylinder of rods. The space between is a complicated mass of pipes and meshwork. The whole thing sparkled and shone with crimson and white highlights from the suns.

It passed below the horizon.

I’m going to stay right here and watch it again.

[break]

[untranscribable conversation]

Look!

[untranscribable conversation]

That is a ship. That is a ship.

Do you know any way to signal it? Can it see the island?

[untranscribable conversation]

I do not know. The machine talk ship is in building with door not open.

A fire? A smoke signal?

I do not understand.

A fire, a… oh, hell.

[untranscribable conversation]

It is a big ship. More big.

I don’t care. How can I get its attention?

It is under the horizon.

Damn. Oh, it’s… 1803 by my watch.

Watch?

Just for the record.

Record?

[break]

It’s 1933. It’s back again right on schedule. It’s following exactly the same path as it did the previous two times, and last night.

It’s following a fixed pattern. What’s it doing?

[untranscribable conversation]

Black says it is at orbit.

In orbit? It’s far too low for that. Look at the size of it!

[untranscribable conversation]

Black says it is more big. More, more big.

No way. It can’t be in orbit. It can’t be more than a few kilometres away, at the very most.

Black says it is more far and more big.

How big it is isn’t important right now. How can we communicate?

We do not know. Is it true that your machine talk not this planet not talk ship?

Um… I don’t know how to make this machine talk to the ship.

If that is true then we do not know can you communicate ship.

Are there any machines on the island you can operate? Could we, oh, flash all the lights in the Hotel on and off?

I do not understand flash.

Um, to blink… uh, on, then off, then on, then off, and so on.

[untranscribable conversation]

We can control three apartments. We can flash three lights. We not can flash more three lights.

It might be worth a try.

It go.

Yes.

[break]

It’s late.

It’s been a hundred and twenty minutes since the last time it passed over and it still hasn’t been back. Please, god, don’t let it have flown away. That ship is probably my only chance to get away from this place.

At least this is proof that it can’t have been in orbit—orbits are completely regular. It must have been flying in circles in the upper atmosphere, or something. I can imagine it being a couple of kilometres long—that would explain the way it doesn’t shrink much when it approaches the horizon—but in orbit? For that to be true, it would have to be vast.

Wow. I think I’m actually getting blasé about a vehicle that’s two kilometres long.

Green and Black have gone again. I don’t know what they’re doing. I do know that earlier I wanted to head outside and watch the ship out in the open, and Green stopped me, saying something about the storm—I think they’re afraid of the megastorm blowing up. It is due today or tomorrow. From the effort they have to expend when they’re moving about on land, I don’t blame them for wanting to stay under cover. Which means they’re probably in their apartment.

Damn it, where are you? You should be here by now… hurry up…

I’m wondering about the dictaphone. It transmitted promptly when I was on the ship. It got much slower when I was abandoned on the island. It sped up again yesterday, which was the day I first saw the ship. Does it react to spacecraft? Does it need to nearby ship to bounce the signal off, or something?

Where is it?

Why is it here? Is it investigating the ship I came in on? Is it receiving these transmissions? If so, please come and get me, I’m getting worried. Is it something to do with the war?

From the circular patterns it’s flying, perhaps it’s looking for some… there it is!

A hundred and thirty minutes. It’s late.

[break]

It’s been back again. A hundred and forty minutes, this time. It seems to be slowing down. Black keeps insisting that it’s in orbit, although he seems to be less certain; it’s hard to tell through Green’s translations.

If only I knew why it is slowing down.

We discussed trying to flash the Hotel lights. Green says that they can’t communicate from one apartment to another, which means there’s no way to synchronise the flashing of my apartment with theirs. I thought of putting someone in the foyer to ring the doorbells simultaneously; but then I remembered that the transporter closets have to be closed before you can get at the real apartment doors, and not the ones opening into the foyer.

So instead I’m just going to flash my own apartment lights when the ship turns up again. It should be dark by then, so it ought to be visible. I don’t think it’ll actually work, but I have to do something.

Green and Black seem excited but worried, as well. I’ve asked them if they recognise the ship. Green claims ignorance. Remembering that newsreel, the Builder’s ships appeared to be rectangular—the huge carriers hovering over the island certainly were, as was Calvin’s ship. But I’ve hardly seen a representative sample. It seems fair that the sealin won’t be familiar with the more exotic of the Builder ships; they are, after all, on the other side of the war.

But equally, I wouldn’t have thought the sealin would be particularly familiar with the Enemy’s ships. They are fairly low on the pecking order. I suspect all they’ll have seen are the Enemy’s supply ships, ducking under the radar of the Builder base on the island and dropping off munitions and technology. I’ve tried asking what it looked like, but I don’t think I’m making myself clear; Green just seems to get confused.

Which means I don’t know who this ship belongs to.

It is remotely possible that I don’t want to attract the ship’s attention. But how can I tell? I have to try.

[break]

Flashed the Hotel lights. Hard work wanting that quickly and I don’t think the result was much good. The ship didn’t respond, anyway. I don’t think it could even see us.

It was late again. The interval this time was nearly two hours. If it is in orbit, and the orbit is slowing, then the ship must be receding from the planet. But I would have expected it to shrink if that was the case; it can’t possibly be in orbit, no matter what Black says.

I kept noticing Black with his eyes fixed on the horizon. I suddenly realised this afternoon that the megastorm may scare the sealin almost as much as it scares me. Out at sea, they can dive under the front and be relatively safe; here on the island, they’re putting their lives in the hands of the Builders who constructed this building. That can’t be reassuring, trusting their enemy’s expertise to save their lives.

No storm today, so it’ll be here tomorrow.

I wonder how the ship will escape. Perhaps it’s high enough the be above the storm. Perhaps it’s strong enough to withstand it.

No matter. I’m going to bed; Green and Black left shortly after I did the flashing-the-lights stunt. I’m getting seriously short of sleep. I suspect that this planet’s day is a bit shorter than Earth’s; I should have got round to measuring the time between successive sunrises, but I never really got round to it…

[transmit]

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