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. Meghan (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. For Part one, check out Meghan’s blog. She’ll be posting on Tuesday’s, me on Wednesday’s or Thursday mornings. Enjoy
Dr. Kalia Cain
International Genetics Lab
Security Level Ultra-Magic
via E.S. Sumpter
Hello from the very smoothly sailing Sumpter! So glad the Colonel could help you get some letters out, he was so thankful for what I did he was begging me to tell him how I could repay him! Asking for unlimited correspondence with you while I was gone was a stroke of genius, if I don’t say so myself. On your end I find it very odd to be passing correspondence through your office! I still don’t get why a diagnostic lab has such high security clearances?
Yes, haha, my belly button did NOT blow out during Pass Jump, praise the ‘verse. I’ll admit after the first Pass I did manage to slip my right hand restraint long enough to check to make sure I was still intact! Going through the Passes isn’t actually disruptive feeling at ALL and you definitely do not feel like you’re going to explode. I was expecting some sort of science fiction blurring of physical matter, or a weird moment where the stars all streak and you feel like silly putty, but really all it does is make one feel slightly thankful you’re pinned down to something. And it musses your hair.
Thanks loads for caring for the cat. The cactus is kinder, I know. He’s a pain, but he’s needy, and Angelo has plenty on his hands running the restaraunt while I’m gone. One really can’t expect a sous-chef-now-executive-chef like Angelo to have time to spare for special needs cats. He’ll have his hands full drinking himself into a stupor to help override the panic of what I’ll do to him if my restaurant loses any Michelin stars while I’m gone. I told him he’s got three years before I’ll see if it’s tanked, so he better start dreaming up amuse’ bouches and praying for the liquor delivery to be timely!
Cheers on the lovely sounding lab, sounds much better than that last place you worked! Let’s hear it for rooms with a view and being a woman in demand. My views are all through screens, which is nice but not quite the same as windows. I hear it told the captain’s bedroom has a panoramic view made of high pressure something or other (I’m a cook for cripes sake, not a scientist so don’t ask me to explain) that shows the real-time view. But with no plans to get into the captain’s bedroom anytime soon, I’ll just have to depend on rumor.
Romantic stories about space are as follows: I spent the first day on ship impressing everyone with cheese sandwiches because I couldn’t figure out where we stored all the meat. Turns out it was in a locker 4 decks below where it was supposed to be, and by the time I found the suckers I couldn’t spare an able body to drag 3 or 4 cows up from deep freeze, much less have time to turn them into something edible. Sigh.
My room is nice, and I share it with a very red headed man named Garvey. I know, sharing a tiny room. With a man. A strange man! Remember how long it took me to allow Giorgio a pass into that apartment you and I had? Ugh, but on a ship this packed we can’t spare the space to be picky about room-mates. It’s funny to think how high demand it is to be Plague-resistant, get on a ship and Go Somewhere. If only more Earthers knew the true glamor of space mostly involves figuring out shower time and hunting the ship for frozen meat. Anyway, back to room sharing. There is much eye averting and burying of one’s self behind letters. So for ‘verse sake don’t forget to write! Also, another one of those lovely pictures of you and me at my graduation would be nice for the blank wall. Just send the file with your next letter (yay again to the Colonel).
Speaking of things I left behind that you have, did you notice I left you that recipe book in your drop box? I put all your favorites, did you see it? I thought it might help you to not be lonely if you could cook yourself something that would remind you of us cooking. I’ve been exercising and taking my doses like I promised you I would. You should see some of the people who skip their workouts and who can’t afford to dose. Ick. Wonder what they will look like by the time we get back?
I know we argued a bit about it before I left, but I want you to know I’m glad you talked me into spacing. I’ve always known I could cook anywhere, and you haven’t really cooked until you have 60 people who just came off shift staring daggers at your half laid out buffet while you sweat with a wrench over a faulty pilot light. It’s an adventure and I’ve shattered every one of my fingernails. But, I pulled off a perfect custard for dessert, and on a Pass Jump ship that’s really saying something! Egg yolks, it seems, are as tempermental on ship as they are on world. As a scientist I hope you are appreciating the chemistry.
It’s been hard, leaving you behind. Keep busy, GO OUTSIDE and don’t forget to not water the cactus.
Any new books out about you know what? Don’t forget the picture! Oh also, what happened to Hank? I never got to hear the end of the story?
P.S. We watched Ultimate tennis a week ago, I wonder if I could have spotted you in the crowd!
All my love and kiss the cat,