CatastrophicFailure

Chapter 23: 'So Much Universe, and So Little Time.' Dedicated to Sir Terry Pratchett April 28, 1948 - March 12, 2015 AT LAST, SIR TERRY, WE MUST WALK TOGETHER. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Buford T. Kerman actually did know the procedure. Even after all these years, having done it over and over again in training, it never left. But he was supposed to remain inconspicuous, as inconspicuous as a multi-bazillionaire foreigner with a Truly Awesome but Fake mustache could be, anyway, so he sat back, and let things happen to him. He was wedged into the couch farthest from the hatch, away from the most important buttons. Hoses were connected, lines were purged, straps were fastened, and cords were plugged, all by a swarm of technicians who somehow managed to move with otherworldly grace and ease in the claustrophobic capsule. Finally his helmet was secured, then with a rap on the top and a 'thumbs up," they moved on to Chadvey in the center couch. Chadvey, however, would have none of it. Buford T. Kerman couldn't hear a thing through his helmet, but he saw hands batted away, connections made slowly and awkwardly, and someone lecturing someone on telling someone how to do someone's job. With a tap on the top, another 'thumbs up,' and a slightly forced smile, the technicians simply... left. A moment later, Derpy swung in with feline fluidity, plopping into the couch next to the hatch. His mouth was moving, but Buford T. Kerman very thankfully could not hear. To his continued shock, however, Derpy seemed to flow like liquid. He moved with an agility and precision that made the technicians just look, well, derpy. Within moments, all his connections were secured, most without even looking, and the tense-looking technician just outside the hatchway breathed a visible sigh of relief once Derpy's helmet was on and the foul emanations ceased. This also marked the end of Buford T. Kerman's comfort, however, as a moment later the intercom sparked to life. "...wow this is so cool can't believe this is finally happening oh yeah oh yeah feel it unh unh we're goin' into spa-ace we're goin' into spa-ace..." A surprising relief came shortly, as the radio now crackled to life from Launch Control, "good afternoon, gentlekerbs, radio check please." And once again, quick as a quantum state change, Derpy changed, his voice becoming calm, professional, and several octaves lower. "Pilot Door-PAY Kerman, on radio, five by five." "Good copy pilot." And just as quickly, Derpy was back to his incessant, nasally banter. Chadvey followed, "Chadvey Kerman, on radio, five by five." "Good copy Chadvey." Stay in character this time. Buford T. Kerman reached deep down, spoke from the back of his throat in a deep, loud voice, and did his best Exast drawl. "Byoooofawd Teeeeeee Kehrman, awn the radioo." Chadvey and Derpy both sat up slightly in their seats to stare at him, open mouthed, one lip slightly curled. Each raising an eye... bulge. Buford T. Kerman turned a new and previously undocumented shade of green. A technician quickly appeared and saved him any further embarrassment. The tech pointed at his wrist, raised a single finger, gave a final 'thumbs up,' then disappeared out the hatch. A moment later it was shut with a thud that could be heard even with helmets on, and just after that, the outer hatch in the launch shroud was bolted closed, shutting out the last bits of daylight. The capsule was now lit only by its interior lights. Buford T. Kerman looked out his small, round window, seeing only the textured inner surface of the composite shroud. He laid his head back on the headrest of his couch and took a deep breath, now feeling very much like canned seafood. He'd forgotten how much he hated space travel. He glanced at the mission clock. T-1:00:00. One hour till liftoff. Buford T. Kerman strained and looked over at the checklists Derpy was loudly and madly running through. Callsign for the day was 'Bounty'. He rolled his eyes. Yesterday was "Plenty." Though he supposed it could be worse. Tomorrow was "Cornucopia." Engineers. Pfft. The radio crackled to life, "this is Launch Control. Mission control at GNN reports online. We are ready to begin." "This is Bounty," replied Derpy with his bizarre pilot voice, "preliminary checkout complete, ready to proceed." shift "ohboyohboyohboyohboyohboyohboyohboy...." "The clock is running at tee minus one hour. Launch crew reports pad clear, gantry clear, Bounty you are go to arm EDS, set abort mode zero." From somewhere, Derpy produced a bright red T-shaped handle. He inserted it into a hole in the control panel, turned it 180 degrees, pushed it in slightly, flicked a small lever next to it and turned a knob. "EDS is armed, mode zero." He said, then leaned over and also armed the emergency hatch release. The Emergency Detection System constantly monitored a multitude of the rocket's systems and sensors. Out-of-spec numbers on any one of them would cause the EDS to activate the large launch escape tower mounted to the shroud over the pod, pulling it away from the failing rocket to safety. Well, hopefully. Or the crew could pull the handle Derpy had just installed. Buford T. Kerman noticed it was conveniently just out of his reach. Chadvey could reach it easily enough if he had to, and-- wait, was Chadvey sleeping? "Commencing fueling, confirm flow rates Bounty." "Flow rates look good," Derpy said, watching gauges and flicking switches. Buford T. Kerman licked his dry lips with an even dryer tongue. At least that meant he couldn't taste that blasted... thing for now. Through his couch, he could feel the rocket groaning and pealing as its structure began to bear the weight of thousands of liters of highly explosive fuel. The core stage, in particular, burned an unorthodox mixture of liquid oxium and propellium hydroxide, instead of the more common pure propellium. This gave it a moderate boost in efficiency but was known to be... unstable. There had never been an in flight failure from it, but still. Buford T. Kerman again looked longingly towards the abort handle. T-46:00 Derpy was demonstrating himself to be a surprisingly competent pilot, at least. Everything he did, he did with authority and confidence, no hesitation, before returning to his incessant blabbering during lulls in communications. Buford T. Kerman was just along as a passenger, he had no role to play, all he could do was watch and pray for deafness. But maybe he was being too hard on the guy. He did seem to know his stuff after all. Maybe-- "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Screamed Derpy, waving his arms rhythmically in front of himself and gyrating in his couch, "doalittle dance! UHN! UHN! Goininto space! UHN! UHN! Go up tonight! UHN! UHN! Go up tonight!" Nope, Derpy was going out the hatch. First chance. Right out the damn hatch. "Bounty, verify guidance alignment and MechJeb AGAP to engage." "Confirmed, guidance aligned, AGAP to engage." Buford T. Kerman let his mind wander. The further it wandered from Derpy the better. The frayed reality sensation still followed him like a distant cloud. Was any of this really real? This morning he was in jail, now he was in a... rocket? He wondered if he was really sitting in a padded cell back at the Sanatorium having a psychotic episode. Chadvey seemed... too perfect. Showing up just in time to talk him back, but not soon enough to help Edmund. Or Billy. It all seemed very convenient. And now he was on a rocket to the space station? Dr. Kerman had warned him there was an adversary. A cunning one. And an advocate too. An angel in his pocket, a devil by his side. But which one was Chadvey? Or is this what madness felt like? There was Derpy too. Surely only a delusional mind could come up with him. Chadvey seemed surprised at his presence, like he'd been thrown in at the last minute by... someone else. "Tee minus thirty minutes, weather?" A different voice, "weather is go, skies clear surface winds calm, light high altitude clouds, winds aloft three two at one three zero. Less than twelve percent chance of exceeding flight constraints." "Oh yeah! Oh yeah! No rain! No rain! Wootwoot!" Buford T. Kerman felt like the already close walls of the pod were closing in. This had always been the worst part, this awful waiting. It had been bad enough when he'd had tasks and checklist to occupy his mind, with nothing at all to do, it was maddening. If he hadn't been crazy before, surely this would make him so. And to make matters worse, the taste was coming back. He thought Chadvey was snoring. "Tee minus 10 minutes, clock is holding for final launch status check. Attention all stations, standby for final launch status check." "BOOSTER?" "GO" "RETRO?" "GO" "FIDO?" "GO" "GUIDANCE?" "GO" "SURGEON?" "GO" "EECOM?" "GO" "GNC?" "GO" "CONTROL?" "GO" "INCO?" "GO" "FAO?" "GO" "CAPCOM?" "GO" "OTC? "GO" "TBC?" "GO" "PTC?" "GO" "ILA?" "GO" "ZILA?" ..... "ZILA...?" ..... "ZILA need you to report station readiness." "ZILA is go." "LRD?" "GO" "OMG?" "GO" "LOL?" "GO" "ROFL?" "GO" "GNN?" "GO" "RSO?" "Range is clear, range is clear, you have a go" "CDR?" "Bounty is go!" shouted Derpy. "All stations report 'GO' for launch." "This is launch control, you have permission to launch. Terminal countdown has resumed at tee minus ten minutes. "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Derpy's voice seemed to be reaching new levels of obnoxiousness as the count lowered, "IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN! DANANANA, DANANANANA!" Out the hatch. Right out the bloody hatch. If they lived that long.

Chapter 22: Buford T. Kerman Buford T. Kerman stared up at gleaming white rocket towering above him. He stood at the base of the crew tower next to Chadvey Kerman, his helmet under his arm. Buford T. Kerman was a wealthy industrialist from Exast, a propellium baron whose disposable income could pay the national debt of a rather large country. So vast was the fortune of Buford T. Kerman, that if it were all gathered into one spot and placed in a bin, Buford T. Kerman could swim through it like a short, pudgy, green dolphin. Even the laws of physics that said doing so would actually be quite impossible could be made to look the other way for Buford T. Kerman. So it was really a fairly simple thing for Buford T. Kerman, or rather his concierge, to arrange a private tour of the space station, on extremely short notice, and with none other than the legendary Chadvey Kerman (no middle initial) along as his guide. It turns out administration officials could actually move quite quickly when obscene quantities of money were not only waved in their faces but also used to slap them around some. The flight had been arranged in only a few days, a few days before Buford T. Kerman had even been aware he was taking it. There were only a couple of problems. First, Buford T. Kerman's truly ridiculous wealth existed only on paper; and even then only because of math so fuzzy one could amass a comparable fortune selling it to small, wide-eyed children around a certain spring holiday, after which it would end up in a shelter and appear in heart-wrenching commercials featuring washed up musicians. Second, until he showed up at the Space Center with Chadvey, no one had ever actually seen Buford T. Kerman, despite his signature being all over several important documents. Buford T. Kerman looked an awful lot like Edgas Kerman (middle initial J) with a truly awesome but fake mustache. Buford T. Kerman had been advised to say as little as possible during the lengthy check in process at the Kerbonaut Center, while ID's were examined, documents were verified, extremely accelerated training on Kerbonaut things was administered... and large wads of real money surreptitiously changed hands. The staff had likewise been admonished that Buford T. Kerman was a Kerbal of few words, that he shouldn't be pestered with matters of such banality, and any questions should instead be directed towards his highly respected and quite infallible chaperon, Chadvey Kerman, who was after all still the Deputy Director of Flight Operations, and pestering him might be deleterious to one's career at the Space Center. Chadvey himself was all smiles and handshakes, of course, hi-how-are-the-kids-grow-up-so-fast-don't-they-say-hi-to-the-missus-for-me and other such banter like a politician on the campaign trail. By the time Buford T. Kerman and his escort had passed through any room, no one was quite sure what had just happened. At long last the pair were dressed down, suited up, and shuffled off onto the short bus that would take them to the launch pad. By the time he was looking up at the massive white rocket, Buford T. Kerman was looking decidedly green...er. A cadre of white-clad technicians with hair nets checked them over, checked them again, then crammed them into the small elevator for the slow ride up. Buford T. Kerman watched the rocket's smooth flank slide by. MUL/Colossus-R5. It was the old workhorse of the space program. Over many dozens of launches, the Colossus booster had launched everything from Kerbals to interplanetary probes, and had received only minor revisions since its inception back in the early days of crewed flight. Not to be confused with crude flight, which was also quite common at the time. The Manned Utility Launch spacecraft, affectionately called the "mule," had been the first KSA craft to carry more than a single Kerbal. It was cramped, utilitarian, and dated, but reliable as the dawn. As the elevator reached the final level, they were surprised by the sight of a lone helmetless Kerbal in a space suit coming at them with an outstretched hand and very eager face. "Hi guys!" He said, with a high-pitched, nasally, slightly gravely voice, "I'm Captain Kerman and I'll be your pilot today, ayuh!" Pilot? Buford T. Kerman, not knowing what else to do, took the stranger's hand. "Um, hi...." He glanced at the name patch, "Derpy Kerman?" In less than an instant, that friendly, eager face was replaced by a heavy-lidded frown, with the chin just slightly raised, the voice several octaves lower. "It's prrrronounced..," a hint of trill on the 'r', "...Door-PAY. It's Dachlandish." Ah, Dachland. Land of cheese, wine, and unnecessary letters. "Oh, um, I'm sorry," said Buford T. Kerman, feeling quite red, "you don't sound Dachlandish." The grip on his hand suddenly increased to crushing levels. "I'm not, the name is." Then, quicker than an electron changes orbitals, the eager, happy, ear-grating voice was back, and Derpy was shaking Chadvey's hand like a small, furry quadruped might shake a favorite chew toy, "oh and I'm ever so glad to meet you sir ayuh its a real real honor I'm your biggest fan really I am I've read all your books overnovernover again even the ones without pictures and I can't believe I'm really here shaking your hand such an honor sir..." Buford T. Kerman stood there for a moment, his hand sticking out into thin air and throbbing, not quite comprehending. Derpy didn't seem to breathe. And Chadvey looked... troubled. More troubled than one should look with a small, obnoxious pest viciously attacking one's hand, that is. It was subtle, but it was there. With difficulty, Chadvey finally managed to free his brutalized extremity while remaining diplomatic. "Well now, the honor's all mine lad, always glad to meet a reader," he managed to cut in, "tell me, er, Captain, memory's a bit foggy after bein' b'hind a desk so long, er, how many flights is this for ya?" "Oh this'll be my very first flight I'm so excited I've been with the corps forevernevernever but never made an actual mission my crewmates always got sick right before launch and never made it through a countdown but I dunno why I've never been sick a single day in my life ayuh I always show up for training every single day and I know everything so don't you worry I'll be the very bestest pilot you ev--" he stopped in mid screech without slowing down first and looked at his watch. "Ohboyohboyohboy almost time now I gotta go start getting ready don't worry the Q-tips will you get you guys all taken care of and then we're all going to space today ayuh WOO HOO!" And with that he disappeared through the outer hatch in the launch shroud and into the capsule. Buford T. Kerman and Chadvey Kerman both stood there looking dumbfounded. A moment later, the elevator returned carrying the white-suited technicians with their white hair caps. Chadvey leaned in next to Buford T. Kerman's ear, "stay in character this time," and immediately took one of the technicians aside and began speaking to him very animatedly. Buford T. Kerman was shortly swept up in yet another flurry of activity as he was herded into the pod. He had some idea why Derpy's former crewmates came down with such sudden illnesses. He was starting to consider kicking Derpy out of the hatch as soon as the opportunity presented its self.

And extremely cool, bravo. Also, put together some screenshots of my Shrike launcher from my fanfic, four stage all-solid, based loosely on Japanse Mu launcher. <1 ton to orbit in 6.4x

As a reader, you can speculate about whatever you'd like here. I will neither confirm nor deny anything. Except Derpy. I take no responsibility for Derpy. He just kind of.... happened. You'll meet him shortly. Nothing that grand, I'm afraid. Forgot to add this to the original post. Based (very) loosely on the Japanese Mu launcher. Jeb with Awesome BroStashBeard for scale. Next chapter getting split up a bit after all.

So what do you think is going on? I won't say yea or nay to anything, of course, but I'm curious if thoughts are being drawn in the direction I'm trying to draw them. (I keep hoping my wife will read this so I'd have someone to bounce things off of but she just reads the comments. )

very very cool. How do you keep the front & back sections aligned? Is this FAR or stock?

I'm having no luck trying to find this on Google. I'm looking for an (English) transcript of the countdown & chatter during a Soyuz launch. Can anyone point me in the right direction?

Beat me to it. Nothing like cute anime kids getting sliced in half.

Chapter 21: Chadvey Kerman "Hullo, lad!" said Chadvey Kerman with a big, bright smile. "What on Kerbin are you doing here?" asked Edgas, as he looked around in confusion, "...where...? "I'll be representi' ya, then." "Representing me?" Edgas asked, still very dazed, "you're a lawyer?" "Oh, aye, aye," Chadvey began with a smirk, "Ah was bored one day so Ah decided t'take the bar exam, turns out Ah passed. Got a certificate an' ev'rythin'." Edgas sat, uncomprehending. Finally realization dawned on him, "oh no, I... I'm... Edmund, did I really...?" Chadvey laid a comforting hand on Edgas's shoulder from across the small table, "Ah dunna think there was any of Edmund left in there, lad, and if there was, believe me, you did him a mercy." Edgas looked at him, astounded, "how did you know... Wait, how do you even know me?" "You may not remember," Chadvey began, "but we met once, a long time ago, at a lecture Ah gave when you were still in trainin'. Afterwords, you came and asked me a very insightful question on the nature of orbital mechanics in a multi-body system. Impressed me. Ah've had an eye on you ever since." "It's been you this whole time then, hasn't it? Doctor--" Chadvey held a finger to his lips, "best watch what we say yet." He glanced suspiciously around the room for Edgas to see. Edgas followed his glances, fully realizing where he was, "what happens now?" "Now, you've a choice to make. Y'see Ah've pulled some strings. You say the word, and you can go back home, to the life you had, or as near as can be now. I'll make all this go away. You've been dealt a bad hand, lad, and nobody would blame you for cuttin' loss an' foldin'." "Or..." Said Edgas, meeting the older Kerbals eyes. "Or, you ante up, gaze into the darkness, and we find out if you're as good at bluffin' as Ah think y'are. There's far more at stake here than you, me, the space program... or silly card game metaphors." "Well of course, I--" Chadvey held up a hand. "I was hopin' you'd say that, but first," and again he locked Edgas with that steely, intense gaze, "know this: there will be a price. Ah canna' tell ya what it is, 'cause Ah don't know, but Ah do know..." he leaned in, and stared into Edgas even more intently, "...it will be steep." For a moment Edgas held his gaze, then looked down at his own hands, where he'd been absently feeling at the slight lump in his palm where the bones didn't quite meet up right. "I'd give my right arm..." "Well now, I dunna think it'll be anything quite so dramatic as that," Chadvey exclaimed, all smiles and humor again. He glanced at his watch, "now then, Ah expect we should be gettin' outta here any time now, and then--" The door to the small room swung open. A guard stepped in, eyes wide, mouth agape, staring very intently at something a thousand meters beyond the wall. For a moment, he just stood there, his mouth opening and closing like a RatSquirrelFish out of water. When he did finally speak, it was slow, deliberate, his brow pinched, as if he were surprised that the sounds coming from his mouth could actually do so. "You're. Free. To go." Edgas's mouth dropped open. Chadvey grinned. The guard licked his lips, now more confused than ever. He seemed to test each word on his tongue like a new flavor. "You've. Made. Bail." "Has he then?" exclaimed Chadvey, with a massive smile, "eeeeeeeexcellent!" The guard's eyes moved from Edgas to Chadvey, Chadvey to Edgas, as if seeking help. Finally he bowed his head, shook it sadly, and turned and walked away, looking as though he wanted to go home and rethink his life. Edgas just stared at Chadvey, stunned. "Told ya lad, Ah pulled some strings. Come now, let's not dally," Chadvey said, standing, "we've a long trip ahead of us yet." "Trip?" asked Edgas, "we're going somewhere?" "Oh, aye, aye," said Chadvey with a beaming grin. "You and I will be going to space today."

Chapter 20: Voices There was a clock on a wall. It ticked away the time with muted indifference. Tick Tick Tick A figure that had once been Edgas Kerman sat in a nondescript gray room, at a nondescript metal table. Tick Tick Tick His hands were shackled, and stained. A camera high up on the wall regarded the scene impassively. Tick Tick Tick The figure that had once been Edgas Kerman sat slack-jawed, head slightly bowed, a rivulet of drool running from one corner of his mouth. Tick Tick Tick The door to the small room was propped open. Voices could just be heard outside. "That the guy?" "Yeah, that's him. Some piece of work." "Oh yeah, he's gone. Lights on, no one home." "Dunno why he's still here, they shoulda shipped him right off to the Sanatorium." "He really killed that old man?" "Yup, dragged him out of his wheelchair and beat him to death right there on the beach." "Man, that's cold." "Gets even worse, old guy had XKCD, probably couldn't lift a finger." "Serious? Damn, that's messed up." Tick Tick Tick "Why is he here, anyway?" "No one knows what to do with him. Looey doesn't want him in holding, and-- hey look!" "What?" "Look!" "What?!" "Do you know who that is?!" "Where?" "Right there, down the hall." "No way!" "I'm telling ya that's him!" "Can't be, why'd he be here?" "Can it, he's coming this way!" "Uh-oh, be cool, be cool!" "Good mornin' lads, glorious day isn't it?" "Yessir! Thank you sir! Wonderful day sir!" "It IS him..." "Keeping busy are we?" "Oh, yessir, lossa policing to do sir." "Real honor to meet you, sir!" "Good, good, now then, you lads haven't been in talking to my client without me have you?" "N-no sir, haven't gotten a word out of him, sir, um..." "Your client?!" "Yes, Ah'll be representin' him, now if you'll-- by the stars, who's gone and left him like that? Have y'not given him even the slightest courtesy?!" "But-but-but-but...." "I-I-I-I....." "Aye, aye, butts n' eyes, butts n' eyes, is this a ruddy peep show then?" Muted stammering. "You there, fetch me warm water and rags, and you, take those ridiculous things off of him and then be gone with ya." "Yessir! Sorrysir! Yessir! Sorrysir...!" Tick Tick Tick Scrambling, footsteps. The shackles were removed. "Now then, lad," a hand was placed warmly on Edgas's limp shoulder, "let's get you cleaned up." A handkerchief wiped the drool from his chin. It was smooth, silken, expensive. Unnoticed by the figure that had been Edgas, the Voice walked calmly to the camera in the corner, and yanked the cord out of the wall. "There'll be none of that in here," the Voice said distantly. There was more scrambling, stammering. Something was placed before that which had been Edgas. "Now off with the both of ya! And see that y'close the door on the way out. The Voice took a seat at the small metal table just opposite the former Edgas, and sighed heavily, "a sad business this is, aye." He took a rag from a pile, dipped it in the bowl of water, and gently began wiping the spots from was-Edgas's face. His hands were rough, hands that had known hard work, but moved with a decisiveness and delicacy that belied their age. "Ah know a thing or two about bein' alone," the Voice was slow, soft, kind. He spoke with a mild Gednalnan brogue that seemed to ebb and flow like the tide. As he spoke, he carefully began to clean not-Edgas's stained and caked hands. "Aye, Ah've bin alone. A fortress of solitude, in a kingdom of isolation. Y'think, no one can possibly bear, what it is y'bear. That no one understands, no one can know. No one can help. So y'go someplace far away, wall y'r self up, shut out everyone and everything. Then just shut down." The Voice rinsed the rag in the water, wrung it out, continued gently scrubbing. His touch was tender, motherly, always with just enough pressure to clean, but not scratch. "That's a heavy crown t'bear, lad. You've sought refuge in the darkness, but you'll not find it. Darkness knows its own, and that's not you. Aye, Ah've known darkness too. Gazed into it, felt it gazing back into me. Felt that pressure, like it wanted to consume me, scour me away. But ah had something there, an ally, and you've got it too, even if you dunna yet know." He finished cleaning the Kerbal formerly known as Edgas's hands, wrung the rag out a final time, and set it aside next to the bowl. The water was deeply stained with color. "There now, that's better," he said. He took one of the newly cleaned hands, and held it gingerly between his own. Something about that Voice, it was so... familiar. "It's the people we love," the Voice said slowly, "who give us light, in those dark places. Even when they're gone, especially when they're gone, that memory remains, like a beacon, to guide us back. It's something the darkness kinna' touch, because it fears it, because once you've seen that light, lad, you'll never be in darkness again. Even the light from the farthest, faintest stars, still reaches our eyes, if we but open them and perceive it." The Voice reached a hand to Edgas's chin, softly lifted his head, and looked intently into his distant eyes, "so why don't ya come down from there, lad? Back where it's bright? There's work yet t'be done." Wherever he was, drifting in oblivion, a handful of photons from that distant, faint light reached Edgas, and he was pulled inexorably away, away from whatever it was that held him, back into brightness. Edgas came forward, "CHADVEY?!?"

Lol no apologies, useful critique is both welcome and encouraged Ok gonna give this a few minutes to see how long it takes for separate posts.... So an hour or less between posts, ok. Made a minor edit to the previous chapter too. Will wait a bit then put Ch 21 up. OK two up now. Chapter 23 may be a few days, it promises to be a long'n and there's some details I really want to get right.

I assure you, it's not yet over. There'll be at least one chapter going up tonight, and now that you mention it I see that I derped and completely left out the bit about the RSF out of that last chaper, so I'll have to do an edit there as well.

[spellingNazi]brought it to the PAD in one piece.[/spellingNazi] but seriously, this is good. I shall be watching eagerly.

Wave thing?

Be careful with this. It installed a virus onto my system called Politics.worm. Now NOTHING works AT ALL but it keeps telling me it is, and draining my bank accounts. Every so often it asks if I want to remove it, but no matter how many times I click "Yes" its still there. Tho the dialog occasionally changes colors.

Chapter 19: Shadow's Pawn Edmund was the key. He had to be. He was the only one left. If there was any reason, if there were any answers, they had to be with him. So here Edgas was, walking along a lonely, sand sprinkled road flanked by massive dunes. Shielded from the ocean breeze by those dunes, the tropical sun beat down on him mercilessly. He'd pleaded with the bus driver to let him off closer to where he was going, but there was no stop there. Guy was a big jerk. Edgas had walked past a sleepy security guard in an unassuming shack next to a long driveway, then up around a bend in the road. He had navigated to the Mün and back, he could find one enormous house across a sea of dunes. He just hadn't counted on it being so hot. Coming to what he guessed was the right spot, he stopped, and turned east towards a dune that looked the same as every other. He spit a massive wad of gum out onto the sand, and stuffed fresh pieces into his mouth. Damn taste just wouldn't go away. He looked back and forth along the road, and, seeing no one, struck out up the dune. With some effort, he finally reached the top, and was rewarded with a wonderfully cool breeze from the nearby sea. And there it was, spread out along the beach only a couple of kilometers away. Edmund's house. More of a compound, really. There was a palatial central building, a long dock with several boathouses, many smaller outbuildings, and a garage bigger than Edgas's entire apartment complex. All with a commanding view of the distant space center. Edgas set off towards it across the undulating dunes. He wasn't quite sure exactly what he would do, what he would say. He knew this was trespassing, so he crossed the mounds of sand as stealthily as he could. Which meant falling down and cursing a lot. He neared the crest of the last dune, and carefully peered over the edge. The grounds appeared to be deserted. He scanned the area closer. Nothing seemed to move, no one was around, except... there, down on the beach. It looked like a wheelchair. Edgas carefully descended the dune and crept toward the beach, dodging bits of driftwood. Now on level ground, he could move almost silently in the soft sand. The wheelchair was bulky, obviously powered, mounted on small caterpillar tracks. A figure was seated in it, looking east out over the water. As Edgas approached, he could hear the rhythmic sound of a mechanical ventilator. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. Edgas neared, then just stood, feeling the cool sea breeze on his face, hearing the soft crash of waves. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "I was hoping you wouldn't come." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Edmund." The figure didn't move. A hand hung slightly from the armrest. It looked... rubbery, and soft. The landscape dimmed slightly as an errant cloud drifted in front of the sun. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "I knew you would." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "You've always been tenacious like that." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. Edgas spit his wad of gum out onto the sand. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Fall asleep next to the lake, did you?" Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Bad idea, that." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Likely to wake up making out with a RatSquirrelFish," Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "They're... amorous this time of year. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Taste will stay with you for..." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "...days." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Why Edmund?" Edgas asked, keeping his distance, still standing behind him, "I need to know why." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "I can't laugh with this thing, you know." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Haven't laughed in years." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Wish I had." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "You think something's funny?" Edgas said incredulously. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "You." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Here." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Thinking you can make demands." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "As if you knew anything." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "I know you've got your hand in all this," Edgas spat, "that you're behind everything." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "If I could laugh..." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop "You're like a child." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Playing with a toy rocket." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Thinking he knows something about space flight." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Then why don't you tell me, Edmund? Enlighten me." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "You know, I tried to make a deal with it." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Tried to bargain my way out of this." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "It was folly." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "You can't negotiate when you have..." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "...nothing." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "It? What's 'it,' Edmund?" Was it getting cloudier? The day seemed darker, "what's going on?" Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "Why don't you..." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "...stop talking to my back..." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "...and come speak to me..." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "...face to face..." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "...like civilized people?" Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. Edgas slowly stepped forward. It was getting darker out. A lump grew in the pit of his stomach. He walked around to Edmund's side, kept his distance. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "I saw it, Ed." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. Edgas froze, terror suddenly grabbing him. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pop. "I shouldn't have, but I did." Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... The reality-cracking was back. Something told Edgas he should run, but all he could manage was a single step back. "It floats." Edmund's head suddenly turned, in a wrong way it shouldn't have been able to and his EYES! What's he done to his eyes?! "It floats!" His face! "Floats!" His mouth! "You'll float too!" Edmund's head began that horrible, nauseating tilting Edgas had seen before, and he came to the terrible realization that he had never heard Edmund speak at all, that... mouth couldn't make sound... Edmund was in his mind... the whole time... "Do you see it, Ed?" Edgas stumbled and fell, tried to crawl away backwards, then Edmund...moved. There were all sorts of awful noises... flesh, bone, skin, all pulled away from each other. Edmund came towards him, a horrible, dripping, skeletal nightmare. "Do you see it?" All the light went out of the world. "Do you see?" Voids of nothing where eyes should have been... pulling him... dispersing him.. "Do you see?" It was upon him. "Do you SEE?" Edgas's scrambling hand felt something smooth and solid. Driftwood. He gripped it and swung it with all his strength at the Edmund-thing. It connected with its skull with a loud crack. Edgas screamed, swung back the other way, connected again and it toppled over. Edgas rose to his knees, gripped the log in both hands, and brought it down on the skull with a fury. There was a sickening wet crunch. He rose and brought it down again, and again, screaming and raging in the darkness, again and again, crunching, yielding, oblivious to the warm wetness that splattered over him. He slammed it down again... ...and the world snapped. In an instant, the light was back. Edgas was on his knees, on the beach, and Edmund was... The driftwood fell silently to the sand. Edmund was... his head was.... Oh no... What have I done?? What have I done?!? Reality began shaking, trembling. Vaguely, off in the distance, Edgas heard the sound of sirens. Run, the practical Kerbal in him warned, flee! The world seemed to stretch out. You fool, the scientist in him chided, you've been played. Reality shattered, and Edgas was no more.

Chapter 18: Ad Astrea It was well after dawn now. After a long time, Edgas finally emerged from his minuscule bathroom, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth, a bit of foam still dripping. He had brushed and brushed and brushed, but nothing would make the taste of that horrible... thing from the lake go away. He sat blearily at his small table and tried to rub his temples and his hand at the same time. His eyes were rimmed with red and heavy-lidded, and his attention drifted with the disconnection that comes from exhaustion. Distantly, he flicked on the entertainment box. The rocket launch was on, down to its final preparations. A bored and tired announcer who had done this one too many times commented in monotone. "And in case you're just joining us welcome back to the (yawn) 223rd flight of the reliable and successful Sprite IV launcher. Today's cargo is a deep space probe carrying student-designed experiments and... ashes." Edgas propped his head up on his good hand and stared in the general direction of the screen. He shifted the toothbrush to the other side of his mouth. His mind wandered freely, as he tried to process the last... had it really only been a day? Not even 24 hours yet. This time yesterday he had been in his office, staring at paperwork. "Today's coverage is brought to you by Layland-Wutani. Building a better world, together®. (yawn). We are at tee minus five minutes, terminal countdown has begun." Was it real? Was any of this real? Edgas wondered. Maybe he was just going crazy. Dr. Kerman had said he wasn't, but he didn't exactly seem... stable, himself. "The range officer reports the range is clear, and final 'go' for launch has been issued. Now at tee minus three minutes. (Yawn) this fourth generation of the Sprite launcher being the latest in inexpensive and reliable solid rocket technology, once the countdown reaches the final commit at tee minus thirty seconds, the launch sequence will be fully automated and cannot be aborted." The sensation of reality cracking still danced at the edges of Edgas's consciousness. He sighed heavily. What if the doctor was telling the truth? Did he really have any reason not too? But Edmund.... Edmund... "I could really use some coffee, you wanna go for coffee after this? There's that little hole up the street- what?- oh! Now at tee minus two minutes, the erector tower has been retracted, Sprite running on internal power now, all systems still green." Edmund was his friend. Edmund had sought him out for the S8 mission to the station, had practically demanded he be on the Mün crew, he and Billy both. Maybe... maybe he was just trying to take care of Billy after... "Tee minus one minute, thirty seconds..." Dr. Kerman said Anastasia had been murdered, then just dropped it. It almost sounded as if he was trying to implicate Edmund. But... how could Edmund have... if he really had stage III XKCD, that meant he could hardly move by then. XKCD. Edgas shivered. "Tee minus one minute, flight controls to final arm." The body began expelling its own keratin, the protein that basically held cells together. It rotted you to death. People could... change, faced with a fate like that. "Forty-five seconds." Edmund had been a mentor to him. Edgas had tried to contact him a few months after their return, but he wouldn't see him. Just stayed locked away in that massive estate. Massive, especially on a Kerbonaut's humble pension. Had the Company really...? "Tee minus thirty seconds, we have commit and the launch sequence is now automated." There would have to be a paper trail... Edmund couldn't... "Tee minus twenty seconds, engine heaters... what is that? What is that? Larry, zoom in on that, down by the fin..." Edgas squinted at the screen. "Oh... oh no!" He gasped. "Oh no! There... there's a person on the launchpad! Somebody do something! Stop the launch! Waddayoumean they can't?!? It's automated?!" A figure trundled into view from behind the launch clamp. "Ten seconds!" the bored voice was suddenly strained, nearly cracking. "Nine!" The figure climbed right underneath the engine nozzle. "Eight!" It was Dr. Kerman "Seven!" He looked directly up into the engine with boyish curiosity. "Six!" Ran his short fingers along the rim of the bell. "Five!" His eyes were wide with fascination. "Four!" Played my hand, need to destroy the evidence. "Three!" His eyes seemed to find the camera, hundreds of meters away. "Two!" His looked straight at it. "One!" He winked. "Ignition!" He disappeared in a flash of light, the camera zoomed out. Smoke, fire, and the rocket climbed steadily into the sky. The toothbrush clattered to the table, forgotten. *** Three hours later A small, lonely probe exhausted the last of its xenon fuel. It was now on a course that would send it past the Mün, over a strange shape on the surface, past Minmus, then away from Kerbin, away from the sun, and eventually into the space between suns. On board were student-designed experiments, and ashes...

Chapter 17: What Dreams May Come Edgas floated, drifted, formlessly. Feelings, thoughts, images, all washed by. Angular, reddish shapes loomed out of nothing, passed, changed. I'm dreaming, Edgas thought. He recognized it. How long had it been? Yesterday. No, years ago. No, tomorrow. Squarish shapes condensed, dispersed, formed lines. He knew this place. This was the Good Dream. More of a memory, really. It always hurt too, but it was Good. He let himself be carried along. The shapes became buildings. What had they been made of? Brick? Concrete? He never could remember. As he wondered, the buildings changed colors and textures, now one, now the other, now something completely different. Edgas drifted, and the buildings passed by, grew paths and... there he was. He saw himself walking along, books in hand, a vacant grin on his face. How young had he been then? So long ago. He saw himself, then he was himself, then he watched himself be himself, in that bizarre way of dreams. He walked down the path between buildings, and then... he knew he would hear it, drifting down a cross path. "Duuuuuuuuuuu-mmy..... duuuuuuuuuuuu-mmy" He knew he shouldn't get involved. It was none of his business. None of his concern. But he turned toward the sound. "Duuuuuuuuuuu-mmy..... duuuuuuuuuuuu-mmy" He followed it. Buildings formed, faded, changed, always ephemeral, insignificant. There. He saw the Bad Boy. Mocking in that sing-song way of hateful children. "Duuuuuuuuuuu-mmy..... duuuuuuuuuuuu-mmy" Flee.., a voice inside said, this is not for you. He never could remember the Bad Boy's face, so it shifted and changed, uncertain. But that mirthless grin, those cruel eyes, that accusing finger... they were sharp as daggers. There were other people around, but they were unimportant. Phantoms and shadows. Now children, now coworkers, now strangers. Indistinct, inconsequential. They pointed, or laughed, or covered their mouths. And of course the Small Boy, laying fetal on the ground, cradling his face, crying. There was blood. Forward, ever forward Edgas was pulled. "Haaaaaaaaaaaaa-haaaaaaaaaaaah..... Haaaaaaaaaaaa-haaaaaaaaaah" Edgas watched in horror. The Bad Boy was enormous, like a landmass, unyielding. Now he drew his massive foot up over the Small Boy. "Stop!" In a moment, Edgas was between them, shielding the Small Boy, futilely raising a warding hand. For a moment, the Bad Boy was confused. But only for a moment. "You?!" Edgas cowered, trembled. "What're you gonna do about it? Gassy Edgas the gassy!" Edgas had been scared before. He was scared of the dark. He was scared of thunder. He was scared of the huge, hairy mole on the chin of Mrs. Kerman the homeroom teacher. But he had never known terror. Never before this, before those piercing, heartless, merciless eyes. Now it filled him, consumed his insides like a parasite. "You... you leave him alone!" And now the Bad Boy was angry. He loomed over Edgas like a building, mountain, a planet. He bared his teeth in a vicious, spiteful smile. "Ooooooooooohhh you gonna fight me? Is the big dumb dummy your boyfriend? Haaaaaaaaaaa-haaaaaaaaah duuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-mmy!" Deep inside Edgas, something small and weak... sprouted. It sent forth shoots, and leaves, and roots, and light. Like the dawn, it drove the darkness away. Edgas met those cruel, hateful eyes and held them. He balled his tiny hands into fists, his nails dug into his palms, he spoke through clenched teeth. "Say. Dummy. Again." "Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-mmmmy!" This thing inside him roared, and everything went red... *** Edgas could never remember what actually happened. When the dream-world returned, Edgas's face hurt. A lot. One of his eyes wouldn't open. The taste of copper on his tongue, blood on his shirt. But the Bad Boy was on the ground now. So were most of his teeth. Not a few, most. Edgas always remembered that. The Bad Boy cried. It was thin, reedy, nasally, pathetic. There was blood. Edgas turned from him, and he faded away. He looked at his hands. His knuckles were split and bleeding, all six of them. So much pain. Something in his right hand felt... crunchy. Still, he offered it to the Small Boy, laying on the ground, sobbing. "I'm Edgas Kerman, what's your name?" Trembling, shaking. "B... Billy..." Said the Small Boy between sniffles, still holding his face. "Are you ok Billy?" Something was wrong. That sobbing... "I...." That sound... "I..." The world shifted again, darkened, became metallic. No..... "I...saw it, Ed..." No! "I saw it..." And now Billy was reaching out his hand, and now Billy was turning, turning, and his eyes! HIS EYES! What's he done to his eyes?! No! Not that... Edgas Kerman screamed. He screamed. His arm smashed the lamp, his foot destroyed the shelf. He screamed. Tangled, falling, he hit the floor, knocked over the other lamp, it crashed against the wall. He screamed. Over and over again he screamed. No....! His fist pounded the floor. Not that! Again and again he screamed. Again and again he drove his fist into the floor, until the old break on his third metacarpal was screaming back at him. Not that. Not that. Trembling, he pushed himself to his knees, wiped drool and tears from his face. "Not that," he said aloud, his voice cracking. "You. Can't. Have. That." *** Deep inside Edgas, a tiny seed stirred. It was withered, and weak, and atrophied. Voiceless. But it lived. It lived. There in the darkness, it put forth a hesitant shoot.

Chapter 16: Answers Edgas was sure he was going crazy. He couldn't believe he was doing this. This was asinine. And yet, here he was, at Brownlake, at night, wearing a trenchcoat. And a fedora. He hated going out at night. At least the Mün wasn't out. From here, as he walked, he could just see the small rocket sitting on the pad, illuminated by floodlights. Billy was there. "Watch where you're going, you spongy, boil-brained, moldwarp!" Edgas staggered aside and suppressed a yelp as the grumpy little codger's cane came down squarely on the bridge of his foot. Bewildered for a moment, he opened his mouth to yell after the old coot as he hobbled off, but decided against it. Some people could be so rude! He was watching where he was going. Mostly. Edgas sighed, and continued on down the winding path. Still, he had to admit, it was peaceful out here. The rocket reflected off the small lake, not brown now but a black mirror. The soulful, keening courting call of RatSquirrelFishes echoed from shallows. He made sure to keep his distance. A whisp of breeze stirred the faint fragrance of night flowers, and here and there fireflies wandered between the bushes. It was other-worldly, in its way. It was indeed peaceful. His mind began to wander, and he was reminded of a fairy tale from his youth, the story of the Fire Fly Queen, who out-tricked the evil Woodsie Lord, and trapped him in the Full Mün, which is why it was known to drive people... There was a rustle in the bushes, just to his right. Edgas froze, breath tight in his throat. He backed away, trying to peer into the bush... he could almost see something... A hand clapped over his mouth, another grabbed him around the waist and dragged him into the bushes behind. "Quiet! It's me!" a voice whispered in his ear. Edgas was released. Looking around, he was in some sort of clearing, hidden in the thicket, just next to the lake. His assailant was... "Dr. Kerman?!" "Who else were you expecting?" He looked Edgas up and down. "You look ridiculous," he pulled the fedora from his head and handed it back, "like I said, you've seen too many movies." "W... what is going on??" Edgas blurted out. "You know something is wrong, don't you?" Edgas hesitated, "I... I don't..." "Now's not the time to dally." "Y... yes." "And you've known it for a long time, haven't you? You can feel it, deep in your bones, in everything that makes you you. And that scientist in you can't stand it. It's not logical, it's not rational, it just cannot be. Am I right?" Edgas blinked, "yes..." Dr. Kerman took a step forward, "what you saw back there was real." He held up a hand before Edgas could even form the question, "I didn't see it, I don't know what you saw. But it wasn't a vision or a hallucination. When the mind is confronted with that which is beyond its understanding, when it's made to conceive the inconceivable, it creates a defense mechanism. It gives shape to the formless, noise to the soundless, makes perceivable that which it is unable to perceive. It does this to protect itself, like a tree forming a gall around a parasite. When that mechanism fails, and the mind is confronted with pure reality, well, that's one way to end up in my hospital." "Is... that what happened to Billy?" "I don't know," he shook his head, "I don't think so. Perception does not change reality. Whatever happened to Billy, it was a massively powerful reality." Edgas was at a loss, still trying to process. "Why are you only telling me this now? Why not before?!" "Because something has changed. Something is different. Whatever's happening, it's happening faster now. Billy was part of that. How, I don't know." "For the guy with all the answers," he crossed his arms over his narrow chest, "you don't know a lot." Dr. Kerman laughed heartily. "Oh I don't have all the answers, Mr. Kerman. I don't have any. Whatever beacon the truth is, I can't even see that light. Only the shadows it casts." Edgas dropped his arms and looked down, "why me?" "Because you're involved. You're a part of it now, you have a roll to play. What that is," the doctor grinned in the shadows, "I don't know. But what I do know is, you're strong. You have to be, or you wouldn't be here right now. You wouldn't have lasted this long." He stepped forward again. "But more importantly, most importantly, there's something in here," he pressed a finger against Edgas's chest, "buried deep down, that's even stronger," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "and it is sick and tired... of always being afraid." "H... how do you--" Dr. Kerman removed the finger, and jammed a thumb into his own chest, "expert, remember?" He smiled broadly, "I've got a certificate and everything." "But...what can I do?" Dr. Kerman made a sweeping gesture towards the silent rocket on its launchpad, "this is the modern age!" he boomed, "even the inconceivable has to obey a higher authority." "What authority?" asked Edgas. "Bureaucracy." Dr. Kerman said with a wry grin. "I saw the signature on Billy's cremation order. The same one was on his sister's. The same one is on the witness line of his will. The same one, over and over again, is on the paperwork that transferred his guardianship to the State after his sister was murdered." Edgas's eyes shot wide open. Dr. Kerman held up a hand again, shaking his head, "it's a name you already know." "Who?" "Edmund. Kerman." Edgas staggered. He felt like he'd been gut-punched. "T... that's not true," he said to the grass, "that's impossible! Edmund is a recluse! He... he never leaves his house, nobody's even seen him for years!" "And there's a perfectly valid reason for that." Edgas looked at him. "Right after you returned from the Mün, he was diagnosed with stage III excessive keratin chelation disorder." XKCD. It never made sense. You either got it or you didn't. If caught very early, the symptoms could be... delayed. It destroyed the body while mostly sparing the mind. And it was always fatal. Edgas dropped down to his knees. The bruises... The headaches... The mood swings... "He had it the whole time," Edgas whispered to no one, "the whole time we were up there. He never told us. He never said. But the physicals!" his eyes shot up at Dr. Kerman, "the physicals should have caught that, should have kept him from flying. Let him get treatment." "Edmund had a lot of friends. Still does. Wouldn't take much to convince a flight surgeon to keep quiet. Especially with a mission like that on the line." "But why?! Why would he do that to himself?" Dr. Kerman sighed. He offered Edgas his left hand to help him up. "I don't know. But I'll tell you the last thing I do know. All this time, he's been getting the best treatment money can buy. Only he's not paying for it. Layland Wutani is. Through a series of dummy corporations to hide the money trail." Edgas felt that cracking-reality sensation again. "I don't know. I don't know what to do." "It's a lot to take in. You now know everything I do, except for this: there's someone at the agency who's working against you. His fingerprints are all over everything, but he's crafty. He hides well. But there's someone who's looking out for you too. He'll pop in at the right time." "I... wait, what? You said 'you,' not 'us.'" "I'm afraid so. This is where my part ends, Mr. Kerman. I've already told you everything I know. It's getting late, and I have to be somewhere in the morning." Edgas looked at him in panic. "But I don't understand! I don't understand any of this!" Dr. Kerman clapped him warmly on the shoulder, still with his left hand, "Mr. Kerman, I think you'll find that, sometimes, when reason fails, you have to just believe. And trust that understanding will come in time." He smiled. Edgas was overwhelmed. His mind was spinning. That horrible reality-cracking feeling grew. "For tonight, I must bid you adieu, I'm afraid," Dr. Kerman said, offering his right hand, "it will be all right." Head still reeling, Edgas took it... and immediately realized his mistake. "Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnngahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" He managed before his vocal cords seemed to melt away. Dr. Kerman caught him as he swooned, still holding his hand tightly, driving the prick into his palm. "Now don't you worry, that's just a sedative," he said kindly, "you'll be up and about in a couple of hours, with a bit of a headache I'm afraid. I'm sorry it has to be this way Mr. Kerman, I am very sorry about everything. Hindsight and all that. But I can't risk you following me. I've played my hand you see, and they'll come for me, now. I need to destroy the evidence." He lowered Edgas gently to the grass. Edgas tried to move but couldn't, couldn't even feel himself anymore, as if he were floating. The world began to get fuzzy. Dr. Kerman slapped him hard on the cheek, "whoops! Now, now, don't go just yet." He looked down into Edgas's increasingly unfocused eyes, "I can't tell you what to do now, but the way I see it, you've got two choices. You can go back to your nice, safe cubicle, and cloistered house, and this will all be just another bad dream. Or, you can go down to the beach and see Edmund, but I guarantee you won't like what you find. Either way, if I were you, I wouldn't watch that launch tomorrow." He folded Edgas's hands on his stomach, and placed the fedora over them. Edgas's vision drew back as shadows danced around the edges, the distant cry of the RatSquirrelFishes warbled and reverberated in ears that were no longer his own. "You'll do fine, I believe in you," the doctor sounded a thousand leagues away, "but more importantly, she believes in you." The shadows played in great undulated waves across the sky above, "farewell, Mr. Kerman. Glory to Arstotzka." The world faded into nothing, and darkness took him. *** From somewhere far away, Edgas drifted back toward consciousness. He couldn't breathe... something was on his face... it was in his... His eyes shot open, and looked into a pair of equally surprised eyes just a centimeter away. Edgas screamed. The RatSquirrelFish screamed. He lurched upright, clawing it off his face and throwing it aside. He coughed and gagged. The taste! Jool's moons, the TASTE! He spat and dry-heaved, his tongue lolling out like an overheated hound. For a moment, the RatSquirrelFish regarded him with a wounded expression, then chittered angrily and bounded off back into the lake with a splash. Edgas sat there, hacking, spitting, gasping. He thought of washing his mouth out with lake water, it was so bad, but then remembered why they'd changed the name to "Brownlake" in the first place. Eventually enough composure returned that he could think again. He looked around in the darkness. He had no idea how long he'd been lying there. He looked at his watch, maybe he could still catch the last-- His watch was gone. He felt around. So was his wallet. So were his shoes. So was his trenchcoat. Even the fedora. Dammit, he liked that fedora. Never could remember where he got it. Some of the wildlife around Brownlake was even more unpleasant than the RatSquirrelFishes, so he thought it best not to linger. With a curse, he shakily rose to his feet. He realized his head was pounding too. With nothing else to do for it, Edgas started walking. He thought the taste would never get out of his mouth. *** Just as the sky was beginning to lighten, Edgas pushed the door to his apartment open, slack-jawed, red-eyed, tongue still hanging out. He was exhausted, soaked, and smelly from for walking hours in the humid night. The bus driver hadn't let him on with no fare. Guy was a big jerk. He closed the door, stripped off his sweaty clothes on the way to his tiny bedroom, and fell face-first onto the bed. He quickly drifted into a restless sleep, his blue pills forgotten on the shelf beside him.

Chapter 15: Per Aspera Edgas's eyes fluttered slightly open. Where...? Who..? The asylum. His eyes snapped wide. He was laying down in a small, white, nondescript room, alone. No... They committed me, he thought in panic, I've gone mad and they committed me! He was an inmate and he would spend the rest of life in this tiny white room. Any moment... at any moment he would feel the restraints biting into his wrists and ankles... Then he truly would go mad. Edgas sat up and screamed. The door swung open, and Dr. Kerman came in. Edgas looked around in panic. His arms... "Now, now, it's ok," Dr. Kerman said, "you're ok." His arms... they were... not restrained. The white lab coat that had been laid over Edgas fell away. He felt at his wrists. "I'm... am I...?" Dr. Kerman pulled up a chair Edgas hadn't noticed and sat next to the bed. "No, you're not a patient, if that's what you're thinking." "So... I'm... I'm not crazy?" "No," Dr. Kerman said with a slight grin, "you're not crazy." "A... are you sure?" Dr. Kerman rolled his huge eyes, "Mr. Kerman, trust me. I'm somewhat of an expert on this. You're not crazy." Then he said with a patient look, "although you do show some signs of PTSD and could really benefit from some therapy. But that's over in the other building." "Then... where am I?" Edgas asked, still very confused. "You're in the bunk room behind my office. I sleep here sometimes after long shifts." "What happened?" "You fainted. I had you brought here once I was certain you were all right. You've been out for several hours. You... haven't been sleeping well, have you?" "No, I..." Began Edgas, then memory came flooding back, "Billy! What happened? Is he ok?" Dr. Kerman's grin wilted like a dry flower, "Mr. Kerman, I'm afraid Billy is... He didn't make it." "W...what? Why...?" "He had a heart attack. His health had been declining. I think the shock of... everything... was just too much for him. I'm... sorry." Edgas's head thunked back against the wall. His eyes closed. Billy... His eyes popped open, "wait, did you see...?" Dr. Kerman looked confused, "see what?" "He... he changed... came at me... did you..." "Mr. Kerman," there was a strange look in his eyes, "he... perhaps you should see this for yourself." "I don't..." "Come, let's step into my office." Where the rest of the hospital was stark, sterile white, Dr. Kerman's office was decidedly... brown. Warm wood paneling covered the walls and ceiling. A dark, intricately patterned carpet adorned the floor, and light came from a pair of stately floor lamps in a pleasing yellow shade. There was a massive, heavy wooden desk in the middle, behind which was a tall leather-covered chair. A pair of thickly padded chairs were in front of it, a large couch off to the side, and several paintings of very serious-looking Kerbals with very serious-looking beards festooned the wall space that was not taken up by bookcases. "Please, have a seat," Dr. Kerman said, gesturing to one of the comfy chairs. Edgas sat. The doctor tapped the monitor on his desk a few times, then turned it to him. "Have a look." Edgas saw Billy, curled up by the wall, looking down on him from the corner of the ceiling. He saw the door open, saw himself enter, saw the door close. He watched himself stand there for a moment and then... Billy just keeled over. Edgas watched himself recoil to the wall, slide, fall. The door opened. He saw Dr. Kerman and Marshmallow tending to Billy. And then he saw himself just... collapse. More people entered the room, carrying equipment, there was a portable defibrillator, more chaos, Dr. Kerman pointed to Edgas. Someone started examining him. The feed ended. For a moment, Edgas just sat with his mouth hanging open. "B..b...but I saw... I saw..." Dr. Kerman looked at him patiently. Edgas lowered his head to his hands, then to the desk, "...I must be going crazy," he said to the wood. Dr. Kerman put a comforting hand on his wrist, "you're not crazy. Expert, remember?" He made a weak grin. "Mr. Kerman, I think whatever you saw was just your mind manifesting a defense mechanism to cope with an extremely traumatic experience. Perfectly understandable. And normal. As long as it doesn't become a habit." Edgas looked up. His eyes were wet. "Billy, I... could I see him? Please?" Dr. Kerman suddenly looked very troubled, "I'm... afraid that won't be possible. You see... in accordance with his will, immediately upon his death, Billy was... cremated." Edgas's mouth fell open. He stared wide-eyed. Cremation was... taboo in this part of the world. To choose such a fate, it was unthinkable. "W....what??" He squeaked. "I saw the order myself, and was already familiar the relevant parts of his will. His ashes are going to be launched into deep space tomorrow morning." "What?! What will?? Does his sister know? Has anyone even spoken to her?" Incredibly, Dr. Kerman's expression sank even lower, "oh dear... I... She... Mr. Kerman, she passed away just over a year ago. Her will was the same. Billy was a ward of the State ever since." The world began swimming. Edgas thought he might faint again. His face became a rictus as he stared at nothing. Dr. Kerman walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come, this place isn't any good for you," Dr. Kerman said, helping Edgas up. He felt like he was floating, like reality was cracking around him. Dr. Kerman turned, and looked him in the eyes, "Mr. Kerman, take my advice. Go home. Get some rest. Take a couple of mental health days. You can tell them doctor's orders. I'll see you out." Marshmallow was waiting just outside the office door. He loomed over Edgas, frowning. Then he raised a hand bigger than Edgas's head... and rested it on Edgas's shoulder as gently as a butterfly. He closed his eyes for a moment, and bowed his head, then turned and walked off, trailing a few new moons. Dr. Kerman walked Edgas down the wide path, through the pleasant gardens, to just outside of the gate. "I'm sorry about all this, Mr. Kerman, I really am," he took Edgas's hand gently to shake it, "you need some rest, and peace." Then sudden, crushing pressure on it snapped Edgas back to reality. Dr. Kerman looked at him with cool fire in his eyes. "I hear Brownlake is very peaceful this time of year," his speech was just the slightest bit... off, "you should go there, tonight. Have a stroll. Do you good." He gave Edgas's hand a quick shake, turned, and went back into the hospital. Edgas stood, staring at nothing.

Not sure if this'll work. Try THIS link. Otherwise, do an advanced search in the WDYDIKSPT thread with my name & 6.4x in the title. There's several random missions and most of a space station assembly sequence, IIRC. Well, right you are. Yay me lol. Thanx for all the support, everyone. If anything's not making sense or needs fleshing out y'alls feedback would be appreciated. Some (most) stuff is not supposed to make sense yet, of course.

Chapter 14: The Shadow Stirs Edgas stepped inside. Behind him, the door made a barely audible click. For a moment, he just stood. Billy looked gaunt, and pale. He sat curled up, opposite the door, facing the side wall with his head resting against the back. For a moment, just one, Edgas felt a flutter of hope. "I was hoping you wouldn't come," Billy said suddenly in a reedy, hollow voice. Confused, Edgas opened his mouth to speak. "I saw it, Ed." As if pushed away like a tangible thing, all the light seemed to go out of the formerly bright room. Edgas felt cold dread creep up his spine. "I saw it!" Billy turned his head toward Edgas. His movement was fluid, unnatural. His neck shouldn't move that far... "I shouldn't have, but I did." His head began to tilt back and forth rhythmically, disturbingly, like a snake charming its prey. "It floats..." Edgas took a step back. "It floats!" His back hit the wall. "We all float up there." He wanted to run, wanted to flee but his legs couldn't move. He couldn't break away from that eyeless, bandaged gaze. "You'll float too." Edgas's knees gave out, he slid down the wall and landed hard. Billy's head was moving, it was coming towards him, always with that awful tilting. "Do you see it, Ed?" Closer... "Do you see it?" His mind... something else was... "Do you see?" The world snapped. In a flash of warmth, the light came back. Billy toppled over onto his side, convulsing. A moment later the door swung open. Marshmallow and Dr. Kerman came bursting in, crouching over Billy. Dr. Kerman felt at his face, his neck. "He's not breathing!" He exclaimed, "no pulse, get the med kit!" Marshmallow moved with a speed and agility he shouldn't have been able to back into the other room. "Code blue!" Dr. Kerman yelled up towards the camera in the ceiling, "get the cart and a team in here now!" A moment later Marshmallow returned with a large red-and-white checkered suitcase. Dr. Kerman adjusted Billy and started doing chest compressions as Marshmallow fit a bag valve mask over his face. Edgas still huddled in the corner, panting, staring. "We're loosing him! Five milligrams of adrenaline, now! Where's that damn cart?!?" Dr. Kerman never stopped pushing on Billy's chest. Marshmallow prepared a syringe. Somewhere in the chaos, the bandages slipped from Billy's face. Edgas tried and tried to push through the wall behind him. His eyes... The world darkened again, became distant. His EYES! There was nothing there. Not sockets, not holes, not darkness, just... nothing! Nothing! Two wells of nothing that pulled at Edgas, at the same time boring into him. Into his mind... Into his being... Into his soul... There was something there, something other, and it was going to... Edgas fainted, and reality dissolved into darkness.

Chapter 13: Into the Halls of Madness They entered into a large, brightly lit hallway. Lining each wall were more of the transparent-wall-and-door arrangements, each perhaps three meters wide, separated from each other by a stout wall. Hanging on the polycarbonate wall by each door was a placard with a name, and other presumably important information about the resident, as well as a holder for medical charts. The room behind was small, about two meters deep, furnished only with a round-edged table and two or three light, plastic chairs. At the far end of each of these vestibules was a solid wall, and a wide door in the center with a small, square hatch at eye level, covering a window. A pair of orderlies walked the hall, peering into the empty vestibules. Edgas also noticed ceiling-mounted cameras looking into each room. As they walked past the rows of doors, he could occasionally see shadowy movement through the few window hatches that had been left open. Some of the doors had large red X's on them. These never had open windows. They stopped in front of one such door midway down the hall. Billy's name was on the placard, along with a substantial paragraph of medical jargon. Billy... "This is it." Dr. Kerman said. He looked up at the camera across from the door and nodded. The lock buzzed and thunked, and Marshmallow again held the door. "Have a seat, please, Mr. Kerman," Dr. Kerman said to Edgas, taking one of the chairs at the table. Marshmallow stood by the wall, crossed his arms, and did his best impression of a glacier. A menacing glacier. "So, you're wondering why I asked you here on such short notice." "Yes..." replied Edgas, still quite bewildered. "When someone in an acute psychotic dissociative fugue, who hasn't made a coherent sound in all the time he's been here, suddenly begins speaking, one takes notice." "Is... is that what's wrong with him? What does it mean?" "It's about the vaguest diagnosis I've ever come across. It's the psychological equivalent of saying the engine just won't run and you don't know why. The truth is, I don't have the slightest idea what's wrong with him, nor does anyone else who's examined him. He's been given every test I've ever heard of, every parameter comes back normal. Everything except one." "What?" "His brain activity is off the scale. EEG, EMG, alpha wave analysis, the readings were so high the machines had to be recalibrated. I don't know what's going on in his head but there certainly is a lot of it. Three years with no improvement in his condition, no change in his detachment, and absolutely no underlying physiological cause. That in its self is extremely rare. But then, just a few days ago, he began asking for you." "What does he say?" "That's it, just that he needs to see you. Not a word otherwise. Eventually, he gets so agitated that he has to be sedated, but that much is typical for his case. I called you down here because I'm out of ideas, and at this point I don't think anything could hurt. At this point, I would call a witchdoctor, if I thought it would help." Edgas didn't think the doctor was making a joke. He stood up and moved to the door, gesturing to the window cover, "may I?" Dr. Kerman looked grave, but nodded. Edgas steeled himself, and slid the small hatch open. And there was Billy. The room was completely empty, the four walls heavily padded. Billy sat huddled in the corner, facing the far wall, secured in a straitjacket. Edgas frowned. "Is that really necessary?" He said incredulously. "I'm afraid so," Dr. Kerman replied, "he's been known to attack the staff, or try to injure himself. We can't keep any furniture in the room at all, not even a bed, and it's either this or sedate him to unconsciousness and restrain him on a bed all the time." Edgas looked back through the window. Billy's face was bandaged, and even from this distance, he could see it just didn't look right. A Kerbal's face shouldn't be so... smooth. Edgas shut the hatch and closed his eyes. "So what's the catch?" he asked, "what are you expecting from me?" "I'm afraid I don't know," said Dr. Kerman, "everything will be recorded, of course." He glanced toward the camera in the ceiling, "other than that, I'm just hoping for some kind of change. Some kind of insight into what the problem is. Are you ready?" Edgas sighed and stepped back. Dr. Kerman walked to the door and inserted a key in the lock. Marshmallow tensed, and for a moment the pressure in the room rose slightly from the air he displaced. "We will be right out here, watching," Dr. Kerman said, "probably best if we don't cause any influence." He turned the key, and opened the door.

Thank you.

Chapter 12: Moutain Edgas stood before a towering wrought iron gate, that was currently open. The Kerbin City Sanatorium was a sprawling facility, not far from the space center. More of that tall wrought iron surrounded the psychiatric wing, separating it from the main campus, but otherwise... it was not at all what Edgas expected. It was a squat, modern, two story building covered in mirrored glass. Pleasant manicured gardens, winding paths, trimmed hedges, and fragrant flowers surrounded it within the fences.. Here and there, white-clad patients meandered or sat on benches, sometimes alone, sometimes in groups. Several large orderlies could also be seen, in white scrubs, trying unsuccessfully to look like they weren't watching the patients. There was a wide path from the gate to the main entrance. Edgas swallowed hard. It didn't look all that menacing, but still... every horror story about the trope flooded through his mind. Especially those about being wrongly committed. After all, the scientist in him said, one could argue there is reason to doubt your sanity. That's what Edgas told himself, at least. He hadn't seen Billy at all since the medical team pulled him out of the capsule as it bobbed in the sea, and rushed him off into a separate transport. After that, he had only spoken to Anastasia briefly, and that hadn't really been much of a conversation. The two never really got along well, the exchange had been... awkward. More memories came leaking into his mind, painful and unwelcomed like seepage from a festered wound long thought healed. Edgas pushed them out of his mind, gritted his teeth, and walked forward. Automatic doors swooshed open at the entry, and he stepped inside. The lobby was long, with a large counter at the far end where a receptionist with a patient and helpful look on his face sat. It was flanked on either side by glass walls, behind which were large, open rooms filled with various comfortable-looking chairs and couches. The patients within sat reading, or watching the entertainment box, or just staring vacantly off into space. The orderlies seemed a bit more watchful, and somewhat larger. Somewhere down a hallway, a speaker crackled, "paging Dr. Kerman, Dr. Kerman, Dr. Kerman." Edgas warily approached the front desk. "Hello, my name is Edgas Kerman. I'm here to see-" "Dr. Kerman." Said a voice to his right, "I'm glad you could make it." The owner of the voice was a tall, rather thin Kerbal, with sparse hair and a graying goatee. He wore a long white lab coat, and a shirt that didn't match. A badge read, "S. Kerman." He offered his hand. "Uh, Edgas, please. Nobody ever calls me that," said Edgas, taking Dr. Kerman's hand but looking right past him at the largest Kerbal Edgas had ever seen. He stood a full head taller than Edgas, which was something of an accomplishment for a Kerbal. Dressed in orderly's white scrubs, with his massive arms crossed over his barrel-like chest, and distinct lack of anything resembling a neck, he gave Edgas the impression of a rather large marshmallow with feet. Edgas kept this assessment to himself, however, as the impassive, unconcerned, slightly bored look on Mr. Marshmallow's face seemed to say, I could break you in half with barely a thought. Right in half. "So, uh," began Edgas once he tore his gaze away from the white mountain, "what is this all about?" "We should go where we can speak in private," said Dr. Kerman, and gestured towards the receptionist, "Sondsen here will get you checked in." And so he did. Edgas was fingerprinted and photographed, his IDs checked and re-checked, and finally issued his own temporary badge from a machine on the counter. He then followed Dr. Kerman down a long, white hallway, followed by Marshmallow, followed by whatever small moons his mass had dragged from their orbits. "This place. It's... not what I was expecting," Edgas said awkwardly as they walked. "You've seen too many movies, my friend," replied Dr. Kerman, "this is a place of healing, like any other hospital. And like any other-" They were passed by three doctors in lab coats, having a very animated argument about something. It seemed to be getting violent. Marshmallow tapped Dr. Kerman gently on the shoulder with a finger as thick as Edgas's arm, nodded towards the group, and grunted. "Yes, yes, I'll have a chat with the Chief of Staff later," he said to Marshmallow, "I've had about enough of those stooges myself. Now, what was I saying?" He turned back to Edgas, "ah yes. This is a place for sick people to get treatment, but like any other hospital," he paused as they came to a large, heavy set of doors at the end of the hallway, "some of our patients are too ill to leave." Marshmallow opened one of the massive painted steel doors for them. Edgas was expecting it to make an ominous creaking, but instead he could only hear a light shhhhhhh as it closed with a hydraulic damper. They were now in a short corridor, at the far end was another transparent wall, this one made of polycarbonate or some other impact resistant, slightly flexible plastic. The haze of scratches implied that it had resisted many impacts. In the center of this wall was a single transparent door. The frame and anything else that wasn't transparent was heavily padded. Along the side wall were many thick windows, behind which must have been a guard room. Dr. Kerman held his badge up to one of the white-clad Kerbals on the other side of the first window. He gave it a long, considering look, then pressed a button somewhere, and a buzzing and loud thunk announced that the transparent door was now unlocked. The three proceeded through the door into another short corridor with another polycarbonate wall and door. The first door closed, its electric lock thunked loudly, then the far door buzzed and thunked. They went through, the door thunked again behind them, and they were before a rather normal-looking set of double doors. "This is our maximum-security ward," announced Dr. Kerman with a hand on the door, "try to understand, this is a place for people who have demonstrated they are a threat to others. Or themselves." He emphasized the word people.