Although my time in Escape Pod X has quickly proved to be the most trying experience of my life, it is not my first trial by isolation. Any chance of holding onto my sanity is the result of my participation in a unique experiment conducted by a team of expert scientists at the Space Institutes back on Earth. Entitled Project Desolation, it was designed to test the ability of certain cadets to survive long periods of time in isolation – in short, it was the perfect warm-up for my current predicament.
The experiment required sixty days in solitude. The equipment and rations I was provided were not dissimilar to the ones at my disposal now. I would be isolated in a chamber slightly smaller than a standard escape pod, with no ability to contact the outside world. My physical and psychological state would be constantly monitored and at the first sign of life-threatening illness or madness, the experiment would end. Anything less than a critical failure of my physical or mental health would be my problem and my problem alone.
It was grueling in every conceivable way. On the fifty-fifth day, I had collapsed and lost consciousness. I learned later that my heart rate had become erratic after consuming food I had only half-processed – a mental error that could have cost me my life.
I have lasted longer this time around then I did in that chamber, but there are two crucial differences. The first is that after years of active duty, I am stronger mentally than I was all those years ago. The second is that in that chamber, I knew the situation I was in and I knew when my test would end. Today, I am adrift, with little hope of rescue. It appears that my position in time and space is fluctuating wildly. I may or may not be the subject of some twisted experiment being conducted by my attackers. My wife may be dead. I may be all alone. All I have are the tapes in my archive, voices from who knows when, and a sliver of hope that I pray is strong enough to get through this blackest of nights. Is it enough? I don’t know, and now even my dreams provide me no comfort.
Visions of darkness plague me, as if the world, the universe, is on the verge of some horrific crisis. I see creatures of unspeakable horror, twisting terrors from some nether region threatening to tear existence apart. Is this madness? Or something worse? Either way, there is no peace in sleep for me anymore. The nightmares have begun.
Blood and Thunder was conceived by Stefan Claypool and William Guida and written by Stefan Claypool. Mr. Claypool also composed the music for the piece using Apple GarageBand, as well as editing and directing the program. Bill Noble acted as the director of the Vermont unit.
The performance starred Derek Long as John McCutcheon, Kofi Appiah as Sterling Hawley and the beggar, Izzy Nuttall as Gwen Carlyle and Maureen, Charles Giardina as Archie Talbot, Adrienne Losch as Catherine Pease and Bess, Cynthia Wang as Miss Mary Jane, Dave Malinsky as Inspector Nesbit, and David Seamans as Assistant Inspector Dinsdale.
A Victorian working girl is seemingly struck by lightning outside of a London theater. Now a stage magician, a troupe of actors, a group of prostitutes, and a floundering writer are all out to solve a mystery that blurs the lines between science and magic. Starring Derek Long, Kofi Appiah, and Izzy Nuttall.
I have begun to black out with regularity. I don’t know whether this is due to nutritional deficiencies or something more sinister, but I have begun to lose track of large chunks of time. I can’t say with any certainty what is happening or where I am, but I do know that despite Rothman’s efforts, the chances of he and his men finding me out here are minimal.
It has been two hours since I wrote that last sentence – two hours of which I have no memory. What is happening to me?
I found this information in the data surge that nearly destroyed my ship. I don’t know how it ended up out here, or if I should be joyous or terrified. The voices you hear are those of Admiral Arthur Webber and Fleet Captain Peter Rothman.
I have not made a transmission in over two weeks. During that time, I found myself in close proximity to a mysterious planet that gave off a radiation which interfered with my communications equipment. When I emerged from the shadow of this unknown gas giant, I immediately found my systems bombarded with information that threatened to overwhelm them. The integrity of Escape Pod X itself was threatened by this deluge, and only through quick and decisive action was I able to prevent a total systems failure. However, the resulting damage left my communications system crippled, and it is only now that I am able to broadcast again. Restoring audio capabilities will take more time still, but repairs are proceeding with relative swiftness.
I am still in the process of sifting through the information I received during the incident, but I am filled with hope by the possibilities. Among the disparate elements, I believe I have found a series of transmissions from Earth. They could be anything, even old entertainment programs, but they’re still a little piece of home, and I treasure them. If I find anything worthwhile among them, I will relay it you as soon as possible.
To you. I often wonder if I am just imagining that someone is hearing this broadcast as a means of preserving my own sanity. Is there really anyone listening? Or am I merely shouting alone into the blackness with no one to hear me? Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Susan is suffering from a horrible recurring nightmare. She has tried everything, but cannot silence the voices in her head, which every day are sounding a little more real… Starring Jessie Gurd and Derek Long, this show was written by Anthony Ellis and originally aired on February 22, 1953 as part of the anthology series Escape. This performance was recorded in August 2009, and was directed by Stefan Claypool.
All attempts at contacting the outside world since discovering my unique temporal status have met with failure. As I sit here in Escape Pod X, I can only marvel at this latest, cruelest stroke of fate. My mission to return to Earth safely is no longer possible until I determine how to escape this slipstream. Yet I must ask now if there is a chance of escape at all.
Is it not outside of the realm of possibility that my attackers are observing me even now, conducting a sick and twisted experiment designed to broaden their understanding of the human race’s potential? If indeed I am their captive, then this whole exercise seems pointless. Why transmit if all of my transmissions will be blocked? Why bother struggling at all?
In the event that they are watching, if I were to give in, to stop trying and allow myself to die in this pod, would it frustrate them or inspire them? Would it disappoint them that man gives in so easily to his surroundings, or would it convince them that conquest of Earth is well within their means? It is impossible to know how to take a test unless one understands how one is being judged. In this respect, I am ignorant.
I cannot choose to live my life based on what I do not know. I do not know who is watching me or for what purpose, or if I am merely drifting through space and time due to a freak coincidence and a series of unlikely but natural events. My very existence has become a mystery, one that I do not know how to solve. Until more evidence presents itself, I can only soldier on into the darkness and the silence.
I have made a chilling discovery, one that has left me at a loss. Despite my navigation system’s suspicious behavior, I had until now believed that I was simply drifting through space. That is no longer the case. An analysis of cataloged star patterns and unusual electromagnetic behavior in a nearby nebula has left me baffled. The stars that I have been observing are not proceeding through their normal life cycles. They are, in fact, living in reverse. And since it is categorically impossible for a star to be living in reverse, the only logical conclusion is that it is I, not they, that have been disconnected from the proper flow of events. I have concluded that I am, in fact, falling backwards through time.
I cannot begin to explain how or why. I have my theories. There is a chance that my attackers are far more powerful than I had previously suspected, and that they are manipulating me for some unknown purpose. It is equally possible that I have simply had the misfortune of being caught in a heretofore unknown universal slipstream that is carrying me backwards through existence. In any event, escape is imperative. I will continue broadcasting in the hope of finding assistance, but as of now, all resources are being turned toward find a solution to this dilemma.
A final, curious note: the further back in time I go, the louder the noise grows. It’s beginning to sound like… drums.
Further updates coming soon.
An archeologist and his wife return from Mexico with an artifact of unimaginable power. Now they have to choose between it and their own lives! Starring Stefan Claypool, Jessie Gurd, and Derek Long, this show was written by Wyllis Cooper. The original production aired on July 26, 1948 as part of the anthology series Quiet, Please. This performance was recorded in July 2009 and directed by Stefan Claypool.
