2175 C.E.

XVII: Who Watches

The Thoughts of Yong An-Hong: Translated by Alexandra Yuan: Copyright 2205, Centauri University Press: Hanson Harbor, Nova

07/29/2175

I am beginning to feel the weight of so much care on my shoulders, I think. The President's new Interlink expansion agenda, the new diplomacy requirements of the Zaha-Katchem, the meetings with Dumarith and Shen Wei-Fun, and of course, the sleep disruption caused, no doubt, by my malfunctioning Interlink. The same dream has returned to me with alarming regularity over the past week. Always a Zaha-Katchem appears, always the walls catach fire, always the ceiling is replaced by darkness and fog. I do not know how to interpret the dream. In most cases, I would refrain from doing so; dreams are strange things that often have very little bearing on any higher reality than the meal eaten the night previous. But recurring dreams have always worried me, and this one more than most, for it seems that a dream that comes more than once demands interpretation and understanding, but I have none to offer it. The Zaha-Katchem leader Zahal has seemingly become a permanent resident of the Terran capital building, and meets constantly with diplomats, senators, judges, CEO's and celebrities. Yet I have met him once, at the reception for his arrival. Some irrational fear holds me back; when I approach the temporary office we have given him, the image of fire and darkness assaults me; it is as if I am living an experience novel in the Interlink. Yet it isn't my Interlink providing the images, or if it is, it is doing an exceptional job.

My Interlink fades out frequently now. Nearly always it fails me in conjunction with my meetings with the President. Oftentimes after I have finished meeting with him, sometimes before, I am met by a moment of darkness, when my readouts and interface and reminders darken. Then they reappear and the comforting drone of background processing returns behind my ears, the music of the Interlink age.

The headaches begin whenever I meet with certain officials. Ambassador Dumarith, for example. I have met with him twice since the arrival of the Zaha-Katchem, and each time I have been greeted by enormous, head-splitting headaches. The same was true of Congolese Senator Olayinka. And it reoccurred when I read communications from Admiral Ito. In all likelihood, there is no correlation. However, part of me does doubt.

As I stated before, I think that the weight of my office and responsibilities have finally begun to fall down upon me. I almost wish for the days when my office was less involved, as it was conceived by the United States, but the President has had great need of me of late; his Interlink expansion projects have taken the majority of his attention, and I have been left to administer to several of his more pressing duties, such as many of the political maneuvering of the past two or three weeks. I have had countless meetings with Senator Olayinka, whose position on the First Economic Committee has made him highly important to the health care reform process initiated by the President some five years ago. Although I attempt to meet regularly with the Grushan ambassador on matters not regarding diplomacy, I am frequently in contact with him on official business that the President has delegated to me. I have never been accustomed to such delegation from An-Sing, nor have I heard of it from past Presidents. I try to serve the Hegemony with the same degree of dedication and distinction as ever; however, I am increasingly tasked with both my job and the President's, so it is difficult. I fear that I am beginning to waste away under the constant pressure.

When the next opportunity arises, I must request a vacation. I am not young, and I have no wife to support me, a decision I made long ago but begin to regret more and more as time passes. Maybe a holiday, after the instability brought about by the arrival of the Zaha-Katchem has passed. Perhaps to Hawaii, or the Philippines, somewhere tropical, warm. Perhaps that would ease the chill that the capital has left in my heart.

Personal Journal: William Aucaman

07/29/2175

Cynthia's been in a bad way today. It started last night when that dream woke her up again. She was panicked for a long while. The guards came to check for a moment, but they decided it was probably an escape attempt and ignored her. I did my best to comfort her, but our cells are next to each other, so I can't even see her. I managed to slip my hand out of the cell wall and held hers through that, but that was the most I could do. I stayed up all night with her; she was pretty panicked. I don't really think it was her doing it, either. It was like someone had drugged her or something. I could barely get her to calm down. What sort of creatures are these? They travel with fear and kidnap little girls. They hunt innocents in the woods. Then they go to Beijing and act as if they're the most sophisticated, educated, egalitarian, intelligent creatures in the universe. They don't even have the same bodies as the ones they've shown us! If I could only fight back.

Then, we met with Mr. Bellamy. He didn't have much to say, but he slipped a note to me while we were talking. Apparently, it was from Dad; it said "Adrian found black probe. Olivia Mattingly was inside." I showed Cynthia and she was barely able to contain her relief. So it was he Zaha-Katchem all along. I'm glad she's more or less safe now. But if there's another one of them still around, that scares me. There's no way really for me to get in touch with my parents, except through Bellamy, so I can't warn them that it's out there. What if it knows that they've found her? It'll attack them for sure; I doubt it'll make the same mistake as the one we fought. It'll catch them by surprise and use its laser weapon. I wish there was something we could do instead of sit here while it gets ready to attack.

It's like we've suddenly become the center of one of those conspiracy flics from the last century, back before the theaters closed. The police are shifty, more interested in getting a confession than finding the truth. The aliens lurk around every bend, and they might strike at any time. I wish I didn't hear myself right now. I wish it were a flic though. Something classic, like Sunday Games. Then the Hegemony could save the day at the end. There is something appealing about those old propaganda flics, I gotta admit. Too bad the Hegemony is the bad guy this time.

Something has to be done though. I can't just sit here while that thing does who knows what to Cynthia or chases Mom and Dad and Adrian and Olivia. Something has to be done.

Official Statement: Zaha-Katchem Delegation: 07/29/2175

The Terran Hegemony is currently holding two suspected terrorists, by name Cynthia Mattingly and William Aucaman. We suspect that these individuals are responsible for the disappearance and death of one of our scouts. We demand that these two are handed over to the Zaha-Katchem immediately to face Zaha-Katchem justice.