Log entry #15

June 25, 1993 AD
Aphelion 1098

I was incapacitated for hours after this visitation. I expended so much mental energy during my vision that at the end I was too weak to move; I simply lay here in the sewage until I slowly regained my strength. There is now no question that the Rencar is rapidly draining away my life force after so many Aphelions on this planet, and that each visitation only hastens my decline by sapping vast amounts of energy. 

But the visions get more and more vivid as my physical strength drains away. This one was very clear, although incomprehensible. It was dark, and there were no Terrans around, but my colleagues were in a city of some kind, and signs were everywhere. I could not read any of the signs, but I did see a recurring image, which I remember quite clearly: it was a fearsome black bird with two heads, its wings and claws outstretched, flying in a blood-red sky.

The meaning of this symbol was lost to me. I remember something of Terran symbols from my research, but I have lost too much of my memory over the many Aphelions that I have been stranded here. And even if I could identify the image and deduce the location, I have no way of knowing the coordinates of the location without my map. And I need to know the coordinates because . . . I cannot remember, yet I know that they are important.

As my physical strength wanes, my memory is fading as well. I can no longer remember the code which is necessary to run the transmitter, and so I must give up all hope of ever communicating with my fellow beings. Perhaps someday I shall regain sufficient strength to retrace my path and retrieve all that I have left behind, but now this seems a distant fantasy. I grow so weak; I have been too long separated from my own kind. My legs and arms have now turned completely white; my speech grows ever hoarser; there is no doubt that I am infected with the Rencar. Without treatment, I have only a few Aphelions to live. I must move on yet again; I must risk exposing myself to the sunlight that sears my afflicted body. When I traveled up this river, from my last hiding place on the coastline, I saw hundreds of machines and structures along the coastline—many were processing chemicals or expulsing them as waste. Perhaps some of these compounds can help me.

I am leaving a locator clue here, as I always have after every Aphelion. Writing this locator clue has taken much of my energy. I have had to rest quite a bit . . .

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