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.
