We're going to look at the haze tomorrow. It will be Xi's first trip out for months, and the precursor, I hope, to my first trip into the Yellow. She's been warming to the idea, and somehow Sergei has convinced her.

Sergei's hand is heavily bandaged. The scratch is infected, and he needs to keep it covered. He can't use his fingers because the binding is restrictive, but he assures me it won't be a problem tomorrow.

Xi isn't relishing going, but she appreciates the necessity. Sergei has relinquished his place on the next relief, and she'll be eligible as soon as I've been into the Yellow. She's also excited to see the haze.

I'm looking forward to it. I want to know if it's moved again. With three of us, we'll be able to perform a whole range of experiments. If I can get enough data, I can start my paper. This discovery could ignite my career.

Bob talked to me about it last night. In a dream. He knocked on my door. I opened it. On his left side, I could see his skull. From the eye socket to the jaw. The eye was gone. The skin on the other side of his face was grey and dead and beginning to slough off. His arm was covered in white fungus, almost up to the elbow. There was no sign of his hand. Bob told me the others are jealous of my discovery. They want to ruin me. They conspire behind my back. He left.

I woke up and went into the corridor. Xi and Sergei were speaking in Sergei's room. I couldn't make out what they were saying.