Sunday, 30 June 2013

The staff at the base made me stay in bed, even though I felt a lot better. They took my blood, and injected something into my arm. I asked what was going to happen to me, but I only saw medical staff, and they didn't know much. One doctor told me someone was coming to speak to me tomorrow. He waited until the nurse had left the room, and then whispered that, whatever happened, I wouldn't be going back to the station.

This is a real blow. I don't know why Ludwig gave me a pill to make me sick, or why I took it. I suppose I was just caught up in the excitement of discovery. It looks like my adventure is over now, unless I can persuade whoever comes to see me tomorrow that I wasn't sick from the mal, but from a pill given to me by another researcher. It doesn't sound convincing. It sounds like a lie concocted by someone desperate not to go home.

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