the first seed

Log Entry: Cycle 89, Sol 1. Deep Space (unregistered freighter).

How long did I wander Terrapin? Don’t know. A ghost. In a tomb of rust. Waiting for corporate security to grab me. Another conspiracy theorist on ice. Never happened. The Wires are patient. A raving madman is better propaganda than a quiet disappearance.

A way out. A decommissioned med-freighter, the Mercy’s End. No questions asked. They’re used to broken people. Found an empty cabin in a forgotten ward. Hid. Clutching a ruined notebook.

Silence between stars. Tried to write it all down. The Lacuna. Roberts. Never a flicker of anything. The voice on the comm. The Starseeker. The plain, unvarnished truth.

Then I read it. Madness. The ravings of the man Wilkins painted me as. No one would believe it. The truth is useless.

Wanted to burn the notebook. Erase it all. But they left me with one thing. A story. A fiction. The thought is bitter, acid in my mouth. To hide the truth, I have to wrap it in a lie. A story that’s palatable, artfully bland. Corporate-approved fluff they might even promote. A Trojan horse.

It is the only move I have left. I have to…