Letters to My Sister

30 12 2009

What you are going to read today is something called “The Letter Game”. It operates on the basic principle of two characters, separated for some reason, writing letters to one another. Jennifer (my sister) and I decided to play together as a way to pass time and work out our writing muscles. So bookmark both my blog and hers and prepare for the adventure.

Danika Cain
Pass # 26572
S.S. Sumpter
out of New Haven
bound for Planet 6 Beta


Before I get down to the trivial details of my trivial life and the less trivial details of your VERY interesting life I have to tell you something… It’s no big secret though you won’t have heard it over any of the Com channels unless you have high security clearance or know the Trinic method of decryption. A week ago Wednesday one of the women working in our experimental sector at IG was found dead in her lab. Now that isn’t even that unusual these days- we’ve had four suicides this year- but what I found later is MOST unusual.

You see, anytime something like this happens the High Pu-Baw and Senior Muck-a-Mucks  have us do an internal investigation. All of the other biologists with my clearance or higher were gone at a conference in Japan so I did the gene testing. Dani, her DNA had been altered! I’m not talking alien/mutant altered. It was so subtle that I almost missed it. Just one tiny DNA strand shifted ever so slightly… In layman’s terms someone went in and shuffled her DNA. I’m not sure what effect it would have had on her… I know it didn’t kill her. She died of mercurial poisoning.

So I send that trouble out to my sister who was always the better problem solver of us two. I can work a fancy microscope but this one’s got me jiggered. The High Muck-a-Mucks read the report then buried it. On the Com it comes across as another suicide by an unstrung and flaky scientist.

But what matter these cosmic questions when the Bridge crew are not appreciating your cooking skills sufficiently?! Shall I come out and keel haul the lot of them? We could mutiny and become space pirates. Or rather, a space chef and a space genetic biologist. I doubt we’d have much luck with the plundering.

Speaking of space biologist… Yes, in school they took us to the cryo storage in Bhutan and showed us the bodies of the early plague victims. Everything from the slightly slimy (those are the ones who died quickly) to the fully putrefied ones with their bones eaten away and their flesh all scaly. The poor bastards didn’t have a chance. It’s almost a shame that the pre-Pass flights didn’t experience something horrific that scared them away from space permanently. Do you know how many hundreds of people died before they figured out that it was a genetic disease?

As far as Lars go- I’m not sure that a sweater is a fair trade for a man with his muscle tone and intelligence. But as I recall I once stole one of your “boyfriends” when we were in school- I think his name was Stephen or Samuel or Bob or something. Point being, Lars is all yours! Just don’t approach suddenly around corners or whistle through your teeth. He’s a very highly trained special operative and your might get your nose shoved into your brain before he realized who you were. And you have such a lovely nose!

No new holidays this month. Though there have been three parades, two new gardens planted and unending propaganda about the new Gov-built resorts going up where Mexico and the South Pacific Islands used to be. I have enough kliks to have earned a month-long trip to one of them but the whole set up makes me a little sick. Did they really have to breed clones to run the outfits? I guess if they were really clones it wouldn’t be that bad but clones crossed with androids is too creepy for words. They might as well give the jobs to humans! People did all those jobs for thousands of years and if they really wanted to make it “historically accurate” it’d be people cooking and cleaning and not clone/droids.

As for my questions about space… Oh I’ve got dozens. Have you seen any pulsars and can you really hear the radio frequencies that stars emit with your bare ears and what do comets smell like? How does the artificial gravity change as you travel around the ship? Are there spots where it fails and you can just float like we used to dream about as kids? Does space have a smell? What kind of people sign up for extended space travel (other than the poor unfortunates whose sister’s force them)?

Must fly. Have a roast in the oven and it’s starting to smell a little too hot.

All my love to Garv. Staple him into those issue jammies for me.


P.S. If you do see a monk make sure to give him a back-of-the-hand. In their culture it’s polite but you and I will know what we mean!




One response

17 05 2011

Not quite what I thought. Your story—fiction or non? I have a blend in mine.
I see the usual sister to sister envy..covered by technical and world events.
Worth a reread.


I am lucky if I could spell DNA—if asked.

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