Travis came by trick-or-treating - dressed up like me. Should've seen that coming. I gave him a half-eaten packet of dandy wafers as a "treat" and kicked him out... but not before he invited me to some kind of "Italian horror extravaganza" he organized for ZD staff. Seriously. As though there isn't enough horror in the world already.
Anyway, I was already scheduled to fly out here to G Prime for final inspections with Herres and the President's delegation. Ted was here, too, and he was not looking good. Kept fidgeting and couldn't seem to look me in the face without blinking. I was relived when he boarded his vert and flew back to "Thebes" (gag). Though I guess I shouldn't complain... if he wants to build himself a "deluxe shelter" to ride out the apocalypse, let him. Keeps him out of Elysium and away from me.
Herres stuck around long enough to give me a detailed briefing on the strategic situation. Basically, we've entered the terminal phase. (As though the color of the sky when I was flying over here wasn't clue enough.) Another two or three weeks, and the atmosphere won't be breathable. The last vestiges of the European and West-African civ brigades are trapped with their backs against the Atlantic. The swarm that scuttled across Antarctica is crossing the straits of Magellan, about to start its death crawl up South America towards the Amazon. (All the work we did to reconstitute the rain forest... and it comes to this.) And advance elements of the Pacific swarms are already skirmishing with units on the Cal-Mar seawall.
The noose is tightening. Projections show we can still finish in time, but the margin of error is +/- 10 days - not a good spread. If the plague breaks through ahead of schedule... Well, it just can't. I will not let that happen.
Enough writing. I need to get back to Zero Dawn.