From the Personal Diary of Simon Quarry: April 22, 2008

I don't know what to believe any more.

Instead of going to Tracer's funeral, I was ordered to head to Centralia, Pennsylvania back on the 12th.

I can't say too much about what happened there, under the burning ground, but it made very clear that the changes that I thought were taking place aren't just in my head.

Well, they kind of are... and in my chest... and in my gut.

I haven't eaten anything in three weeks. At first I thought it was just nerves and being busy with the new tests they've been giving me here on base. But then I realized how long it had been and that I wasn't even hungry. I'm not sure what that means, but it's probably connected to the other stuff.

I have trouble feeling anything any more. The base docs say that it's not just my skin that's turning hard, but that everything inside of me is hardening. That's going to make me a whole lot more difficult to hurt, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. But it makes it hard to feel things, too.

The other day I accidentally took out the corner of the PX as I stepped around some recruit who wasn't paying attention. I didn't even realize I had hit the first wall, let alone walked through the second one until I saw the dust and heard the other people scream. I even had to move to new quarters--ones built from some new type of metal--because I kept ripping the door off it's hinges at the old place.

Well, that and I couldn't fit down the hallway any more.

I'm bigger now than I was before. And I look different. Less human.

That has me thinking again about Bhutan and Tracers death and what Jeremiah said. We have the powers of mythical gods, but we are so clearly still men, still not anything at all like God. We hate and kill. God would never do that. At least not the God I grew up with. At least not with good reason.

And then there's all the other questions about Utopia that I have. If what Jeremiah said is even close to true, they've definitely been up to something and they've been planning it a long time--from even before the shuttle explosion.

I don't know... I just don't know.

Maybe the general will have some answers. He wants me in his office first thing Wednesday.

From the Personal Diary of Simon Quarry: April 9, 2008

I can't believe it. Tracer is dead.

I didn't know her that well, but she did good work in the field when we were in Bhutan.

Her murder has things buzzing here on base. There's rumors of a lot of underhanded things going on at Project Utopia. My superiors have called me into the briefing room twice in the past day to ask me more questions about the Bhutan mission and the time I spent talking to the Hestia science team after I erupted and when I got back from Bhutan.

I never saw anything suspicious.

But there is a lot of talk now about traitors and terrorists. Some people are saying that it was another Nova who killed her. Some are even saying her murder may have been ordered by Utopia.

I don't know why they'd do that. She was a pretty public face for their group. I can't imagine why they'd do that.

I just hope it all gets straightened out soon. I was talking to mom the other day and she said some people in a pickup had driven by the house the other night yelling about Abberants and throwing rocks. She said there'd been posters up, too. Posters for that Church of Michael Archangel.

I have a bad feeling about this.

From the Personal Diary of Simon Quarry: February 22, 2008

It's been more than a month since the Bhutan mission and I still don't feel quite right.

The doctors on base and from Hestia talk about how the change into a Nova isn't just like flipping a switch all the time, where things happen all at once and that's that. Sometimes, they said, it's more like turning the knob on a faucet. They said that, sometimes, a Nova's powers change if they're used a lot or if they're around a lot of other Novas using their powers.

And somtimes, they said, there's no real limit to how far that change can go.

It's been more than a month since Bhutan and I think it's changed me.

I'm not quite sure how. But it has me a little worried.

My eruption totally changed my life. People look at me different. Looking in the mirror, that's not surprising. But they also treat me differently. Inside this rock solid hide, I'm still the same person I was.

At least I think I am.

I remember how alien the Zhabdrong seemed and how people looked to him as a god.

I worry that, if I change any more I won't be the same person.

And I think I am changing.

My shirts don't fit the same any more and I've accidentally broken five doors in the past month.

I don't know what that means.