The nights dragged on.
Notes were found: snarky notes. Curiously, they were in Aiden's blocky script. They tended to contain not the all-too common "AVENGE ME" or "I AM OUT TO GET YOU" style of things, but comments as "I'm still dead, so don't excommunicate me again, once was enough thank you very much" or comments aimed primarily at about he was constantly slowing the works.
Whatever the cause, these comments probably had a point. It was never too hard to tell with Aiden, as if there was a tongue smiley anywhere in 20m then he was joking. However, there hadn't been one for several days. One member put forth the strange and unreal idea that he was possibly being serious.
Needless to say, this proposal was instantly trashed.
After that, the frequency of the notes increased as well as their sarcasm level. There was even a note with a graph on it showing 'Level of sarcasm vs notes:" obviously whoever was writing these notes had access to a photocopier as he had been keeping records.
However, over the last day the notes had stopped.
Except for tens, hundreds, even thousands in bright blue with purple dots and green stripes, obviously designed to attract attention. Quite simply, they all said "Get on with it."
Most of them were burnt to provide warmth on this desolate planet. Some still surfaced around: under a table, on a table, next to a table, above a table, in a table, floating below a table, on the roof of a shack with a table in it, on the small dog-like lifeforms which hung around under tables, in chairs next to a table, and the list went on.
How many more notes would come in the following days was uncertain, as would be their content.