My name is Dale Rogers. If you’re reading this, I’m already gone. Several scientists are trying for the teleporter labs closer to the reactor, and I’m heading with them. This message is intended for the remaining members of the science team, and to any government personnel who may read this. 

I doubt there’s much point in the latter. Maybe one of the extraction teams will compile this hard drive into some massive coagulation of rescued data. I suppose there’s a chance I could be hunted after, but you have no way of knowing if I made it or where I ended up. I’m sure you’ll find me one way or another, but not until it’s too late. I’m telling everyone what I saw here, and if you think you can get to me before I do, you’re welcome to try. The radio I rigged together picked up just about every classified military transmission you sent over the airwaves. Every order to shoot on sight, every bombing run, and every callous, sneering command. I’ve got it all on tape, you disgusting, repulsive murderers, and I will burn you down. 

To the remaining members of the science team, goodbye. I wish I could leave you with more than this, without a word of my departure beforehand. Our work here, if we can ever hope to seek some solution or repentance for what’s been done, is over. My tenure with you all has defined a great deal of my life and brought me pride beyond measure, and no matter what happens, I will remember every single one of your names. I only ask that you remember mine, and Jacob Perl, who was a brilliant man, an incredible listener, and, at times, more than my friend. I wish those remaining all the luck I can give, as flimsy as that sounds. Thank you all for everything. I’ll tell the world what really happened here.

Signed, with love and hope,
Dale R.