Orbit

True! Nervous-- very, very dreadfully nervous I am.

But why will you say I'm mad?

The disease has sharpened my senses...

...Not destroyed, not dulled them.

Above all was the sense of hearing acute.

I heard all things in heaven and in the earth.

I heard many things in hell.

How, then, am I mad?

Hearken, and observe how healthily-- how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how the idea first entered my brain,

but once conceived, it haunted me day and night.

I loved the old man. He never wronged me.

He never insulted me. But, I think it was the eye.

He had the eye of a vulture. A pale blue eye, with a film over it.

Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold.

And so very gradually, I made up my mind to take the life of the old man,

and rid myself the eye forever.

At this point, you fancy me mad. But how wisely I proceeded--

-- With what caution -- with what foresight -- with what dissimulation... I went to work.

I did this for seven long nights.

But, I found the eye was always closed.

So, it was impossible to do the work.

For it was not the old man that vexed me, but his Evil Eye.

And every morning...

Did you still sleep through the night?

...when day broke...

Well, you've endured this false gravity for so long.

...I offered only the esteem he deserved...

It will be impossible to replace your talents here.

...And he would have had to be a very clever man indeed...

But, luckily your training skills have matched that of your work.

...to suspect that every night...

You're are undoubtedly cut out for your next phase in life.

...I watched over him while he slept.

Never before the eighth night had I felt the extent of my own powers -- of my sagacity.

Who's there?

Death had him stalked with his black shadow before him.

Openian vindr.

His room still black as pitch with the thick darkness.

It is nothing but creaks in the old floor panels.

That dull blue vulture's eye, with a hideous vale over it that chills the very marrow of my bones.

His fear grows louder and louder. It increases my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

So strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror.

An anxiety seized me.

Yes, he stone dead.

And I am singularly at ease.

As the craft will be discovered soon without a corpse, I worked hastily, but in silence.

-- wasn't unscheduled to vacate your ship prior to the program completion. What the hell is going on over there?

I awoke by the sound of his pod as it expelled from our vessel. I worry of his sudden flee.

Space is always as dark as midnight.

Has there been a terrible accident?