Chapter Text
TIME
21 / 04 / ■■■3
LOCATION
Solaris
RECORDER
Alice Wake
She lowered her head and placed her folded hands on the table in front of her. She held the position for a few seconds and then folded them again. She adjusted her posture, her facial expression, and her emotions. When she opened her mouth, she seemed to be able to see through the lens:
"The first day I arrived, nothing happened. The Blue Sun is beautiful, the staff is welcoming, the cafeteria coffee is good, and the room is comfortable. I went through all the formalities, rented a hazmat suit to take photos at the lighthouse, and applied for library privileges, but they're closed for maintenance right now. The first day passed like that, couldn’t see anything on the sea, but I slept better than ever, as if all the problems were over. The second and third days were all like this, flat and quiet. Not What I expected. That's always where things change."
She leaned back in her chair, her eyes dropping.
"On the third day, in the dark after the Red Sun, I started having these dreams again: I felt myself in the water of the sea, and there was this huge, long shadow over my head on the surface. It flew over the water, carrying a big wave... I used to dream about this after Alan disappeared, but mostly I just felt like I was in the water. Dark, empty, too cold... " she lowered her voice and squeezed her hand.
She paused for a long time and kept looking at the table without making a sound. She put her hand back in front of her and rested it on her chin. Then, she lowered her hand and rested it on the table again.
After a while she looked up at the camera and suddenly reached out of frame.
—— The picture goes black.
Five or six seconds later it was back on.
She was pulling her hair bac k. Before she looked up, she took a deep breath, then looked into the camera while putting her hand back onto the table.
"I woke up from that dream. I sat up . The motion sensor light wasn't on. The visor was down. It was too dark. I couldn't remember where the manual switch was, and as I fumbled I heard the sound of typewriter keys coming from the direction of the desk. I had no idea how I had brought it with me. I was surprised. I was frozen in place. I felt a kind of fear. I thought it was part of a dream. I often dream about it, and I always wake up from it. When the night light is on, the paper in the typewriter is blank."
She pursed her lips and paused.
"It still stops when I turn on the overhead light. It blinked a few times when all that's left in front of the desk is the typewriter and paper. This time it was different. The paper was typed with a few scattered letters and numbers, and no words could be formed nor were they even in the same line. What does that mean? Did Alan come back? Where is he now?"
She looked out of the camera , then down.
“I've read some published papers; I did when I decided to go on holiday here with Alan. Even though the papers suggest it won't happen again.” A third pause, her eyes were a little moist in the light, "A photograph preserves a memory. You think you have forgotten, but when you see it, it comes back to you. Those pictures... When I put them in the album, I can't ignore the memories in them. I have to find out."
She folded her hands together.
"So -- I set up the camera, I turned off the light and waited for the sun to set. It was dark in the room, and to my surprise I didn't feel afraid. I just sat there, waiting for him to show up, waiting for him to sit at his desk, waiting for the sound of that typewriter to come in, waiting for the shutter to click."
She looked up.
“I see it . It was not Alan.”
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