andnobodygetshurt

Certain of our number are displaying what I consider cargo-cultish behavior of late. They believe that by reverse engineering the relic they can make this thing happen faster. They suffer, I think, an erroneous perception of agency. Our place is not to facilitate the change but to witness it. The relic is flotsam and is relevant only as evidence.

Been having trouble with the communications equipment again. I think there’s a bug in the orbit prediction software. The trailer goes dark for hours at a time; mostly in the early morning.

Peanut butter for breakfast again. Hope someone comes out with supplies soon.

My package came today. Two seven-once vials of phoneutria venom.

To most people, ingesting this would be fatal. If I took it all as one dose it would be fatal to me. The implant metabolizes it. Without it, the implant would die. At this point, without the implant, I would likely die. So what would kill most people, I need to survive. As you can imagine, it is not without enthusiasm that I await these deliveries.

The Pisces gave me a ritual blade and pump which is ugly and brutal. I’ve found that it’s benefit is strictly ceremonial and use hypodermic needles for all doses other than those calling for liturgy.

Out here you can see someone coming seven miles away. This morning I saw the straw of dust rising up and I knew, because it’s not mail day, that it could only be one of two people. It was Thomas in his old Ford pickup with the smashed front end.

Thomas is one of those people who can’t seem to catch a break. You know what I mean? He gets taken for two thousand dollars in a windmill investment scheme or attacked by wild dogs on Easter morning. But then your like wait a minute Thomas, you should have known that the guy living in his car talking about clearing two million dollars importing windmill parts from Argentina was full of shit; or why in god’s name were you out on the plain at five am with half a goat carcass and 78 grams of c4? He brings it on himself. He means well though.

The implant is a tiny, disk-shaped organism. By definition it is a parasite, converting amino acids in the host’s cerebrospinal fluid into energy via a kind of fermentation. A byproduct of this fermentation is the crux of the implant’s purpose. Because of this usefulness to the host, the violently profound effect, I consider the relationship symbiotic.

I’ve had mine for 28 months. This will be our third winter. When I first became, I was too weak to make it back home; hours on a Greyhound bus from the city, then miles more on foot. The Yanauluha Ministry is in exile there where they go unnoticed. But they offered no help afterward. I woke up in the alley and they were gone and unfindable.