Love and War

Djibarh’s note: For those unfamiliar with the saga so far, Audrey’s first letter and second letter are available to read by clicking the links in this sentence. I sincerely hope you enjoy.

My Love

I am sorry it has been so long since I last wrote you a letter. I have somewhat grave news for you, but to that in a moment.

First off; I got your radio message. That morse code class I took in 1895 really seems to be coming in handy. It was a clever idea of the Venusians to locate the Starship Jefferson and bounce messages to me from it. I fear, though, that this practice may disturb Ellis- she is somewhere inside it, probably still alive but very unwell in the head.

A person like Ellis might be very clever; but she is scarcely equipped for a life spanning hundreds of thousands of years. For you and I, the passage of time is just something that happens, and it doesn’t matter overmuch. It slips by, like a silk curtain on skin. But for unfortunates like Ellis, who break out of thier natural lifecycles, time slips by them less like silk and more like sandpaper; rasping away at the mind forever. For them, the only consolation is routine. By routine a thousand years can pass inflicting the misery of only a day.

So, leave Ellis her routine. Radio signals, tiny rumblings, will only shake her out of it. For such people, waking life is the nightmare.

~

Anyway, it seems that I got your message a mere 500 years after you sent it, so perhaps my responses will arrive in time to be helpful:

I understand it’s not easy being married to an eternal intergalactic explorer with a different perception of time and a tendency to act on a whim. I know you waited thousands of years for me to come home, only to have me leave again. I know that that would have taken a lot of dedication or some other human quality I don’t quite have the capacity to understand. But it means a lot to me. I love you.

And it’s because I love you that I understand where you’re coming from. Everyone (especially a person as deserving as you)  needs…closeness. To converse with a loved one; to lie in a warm, safe pair of arms. However deep and constant my love for you is, I can provide you with none of this while I am lightyears away.

So the answer to your question is yes, of course. I’m glad you’ve settled in on Venus (the alps are very nice, congratulations), glad you’ve found a Venusian girlfriend. You treat her right, ok? The rest of the planet might make trouble if you didn’t! All silliness aside, I never want to be like a ball and chain. I miss you, but I think it will be a while before we meet again.

Now, I would ordinarily refrain from mentioning sex in a letter which might be read by anyone- but you’re in for a treat. The Venusians are fantastic lovers; It’s what they do instead of watching TV.

~

On to my grave news. Please copy the next section of this letter and forward it to the Venusian Department of  Science and Exploration (VDSEx), along with my request that the Jefferson no longer be used as a radio relay.

After parting ways with the Starship Jefferson, I followed the trail of micro-debris left behind by the drifting hulk. I reasoned it would lead me to the system the colonists had settled in before gutting their starship and casting it away. I kept thinking that Ellis must have really been a huge threat to them for them to waste so much good metal disposing of her.

The trail ran more or less dead just by a small star visible from the Sol system. The Venusian name for it is ‘Taf-Kaa 14′ (14th distant star of the north). It was such a relief just to see light again. The star had a few planets around it; so in I went to investigate.

Already I seem to be getting into a bad habit of hitting or being hit by spacecraft. In space, you can’t hear anything coming. I was passing a dusty, rocky moon when three small craft zipped out from behind it. It was too late for me to change direction (Inertia is a real party-killer in space) so onto the windshield I went. Smack.

Mildly stunned, I sat like that for a few moments, just peering inside. Humanoid. Huge helmet. Eyes looking at me in utter bafflement. After shaking his or her head a bit, the pilot regained composure and began to buck the little craft wildly, Shaking me off. I was flung free and felt myself pulled towards the moon. I kicked out and rallied all of my energies to escaping and following the three mysterious craft.

Whatever engines those things were packing, they were a lot faster than anything I’d seen before. They had a distinctive red livery and were unmistakably fighters of some description; gun barrels everywhere.  I continued to follow them.

Something shimmered out of the corner of my eye. Distorted outlines, following us. The red fighters seemed to sense that something was amiss- suddenly breaking formation and flitting around in random directions, like poisoned insects.

There was a dizzyingly intense flash of light. The shimmering outlines vanished, replaced by five more fighters. Larger, and blue.

In an instant, I was caught in the crossfire. Something hit me that I can’t identify; plasma, lightning or a high-powered laser, maybe all three. It was hot and bright, burning through my clothes where it hit me. Something exploded nearby and the wave of debris hit me while I was still blinded. I let the space junk carry me along, powerless to do much else.

My vision returned, blurry at first. I felt something tug at my arm. Dazed, I looked around, seeing only floating bits of twisted metal. The tugging became more urgent. I looked down, found the source. The same pilot, in red uniform, strapped to an ejector seat with a tiny oxygen bottle.

I floated around to grab onto his other arm. I looked intently through the visor and found a pair of watery-blue eyes staring wildly out at mine. Inside his helmet, he was screaming, hyperventilating, trying to tell me something, then breaking eye contact completely to thrash and flail in an orgy of pure distress.

I gripped his arm tighter and pulled myself closer, touching the side of my head to the helmet.

…I couldn’t make out his language. I don’t know why I was expecting to. I experienced a strange sinking feeling as I heard the pilot repeating something to me, like a question or a prayer I couldn’t answer. I began to scream myself, vocal chords useless in the vacuum:

‘What is this? Is this war? Why is this happening!?’

I could feel my throat move, but hear only silence.

Suddenly the pilot let out a yelp and tightened his grip, nodding at an approaching blue fighter. It swooped nearby, dropped something, cloaked and vanished. My companion and I looked around; space had gone still again. Nothing was left except for us and three fighter’s worth of space junk, floating in silence.

And of course the smooth blue sphere, dropped by the outgoing fighter. The pilot seemed to know what it was, drawing me closer and shutting his eyes tightly. I watched the sphere hang in space for the longest time. Nothing changed. Just dead space and a doomed astronaut and I locked in an embrace somewhere in it.  Time passed. His grip on my arm weakened slightly as he began to run out of air.

A floating piece of a shattered hull drifted closer to the blue sphere. Touched.

Space filled with fire. I felt the grip on my arm simply evaporate and I was falling towards the surface of the moon, ears ringing, head about to split apart from pain.

At this point, it’s important to mention that anything destructive enough to harm me even temporarily must be, by necessity, very destructive indeed.

I came to in a thick bed of dust, on the dark side of the little moon. After coughing up some of the dust, I took a look at myself. The remains of my clothes were spackled with a fine mist of blood, some of which had gotten into my nostrils.

I felt a new sensation. I think it’s nausea, but I’m not sure, having only ever read about it previously. I decided to permit myself a further nap, the day having been quite the sensory overload already. I am pleased to report that afterwards, and since, I am entirely recovered.

Something is deeply amiss here at Taf-Kaa 14. Perhaps the humans have encountered a hostile spacefaring species (the blue fighters) and are trying to repel them. It seems so desperately unlikely, but I can’t think of any other way to explain what happened.

In accordance with my natural curiosity and my established role as an explorer, I will proceed further into the Taf-Kaa 14 system, with the objective of discovering what the matter is.

~End communication to VDSEx~

So, my love, it looks as though I have once again made only brief contact; but this is promising. I will find the descendants of those colonists; and ask them what that horrible business was all about. I’m sure a solution will be forthcoming.

Just between you and I, I admit to having a nasty feeling, in my chest somewhere, worsening slightly all the time.

Always thinking of you, please don’t forget me

-Audrey

PS. I realise this arrangement might become complicated in future, but don’t worry. We can cross any bridges when we come to them. And never forget that whatever the circumstances, I will be absolutely fine. That’s what makes me me. So take care of yourself, my dear.

Look at me

Raaar! How about some pictures today?

This one’s for Clare:

and Mason:

and finally, no-one at all:

Goodness me

Oh, I’ve been so angsty. It’s just evaporated, and I feel relaxed and happy. I don’t know how it happened; so I don’t quite trust it yet, but it’s nice to have a relaxed evening doing a bit of reading, listening to records. Tonight, Emuir Deodato, Preludes. Some day I will play that album for someone I like very much; around sundown. <3

Maybe I feel happy because I’ve finished my prac courses for the year, or because of the lovely people that I love, or because of the stroganoff we had for dinner.

Today I had a lecture in which the lecturer told us about what an amino acid is. Really? Sigh.

It’s hot upstairs, the fan clanks like all hell as it spins fast enough to lop off someone’s head. If I were a few centimetres taller, it would indeed be low enough to put a dent in my head. Someone once told me that fan blades actually spin quite gently, and it’s possible to stop them with your hand. But I can’t remember who it was, and they might have been a total idiot. Also, it looks frightening enough that I’m not going to try to grab it mid-spin.

Today, I saw two almost identical men, sitting together, who weren’t actually connected in any way. A bus came and one simply got up and walked away, never having spoken to the other.

I kid on a scooter rode up to me and I almost did a double-take, because he had a man’s face, only smaller.

Is it only me that notices these weird things, or are they actually not that weird in the first place?

Nonsense and remembrances

I can speak clearly but when I act it’s all gibberish. Twitch and shout.

I can’t escape the feeling that everything I do is wrong, or at least done for the wrong reasons. This is a burden on my mind.

Exams are rushing at me like a runaway freight train and I’m staggering on and off the tracks, disoriented. As though I had been struck by a gentle bolt of lightning, or someone had slipped spirits into my water bottle.

I might soon have a new job. If that were to happen I would be really pleased, mostly as a result of receiving a wage. If it turns out that it is as difficult as Subway, I think I will scream, and resign myself to never being able to pass for a productive earthling. And then I will scream some more, but obviously this will all take place in private. Then I will keep showing up for work and serving customers with a smile, because that’s what I want to do. Customer service is fun when you ham it up. HELLO! HOW MAY I HELP YOU!?

I feel cheery.

I like my new shirt and my aviator jacket.

To me, every chair I sit in is a cockpit chair for the spaceship I pilot through my life. When I sit with my arms on the armrest and both feet symmetrical on the floor, that’s what I am doing.

Have a peaceful week, mah readerz

A tangled web

I’m not sure what I was intending to type as comment to this picture. It doesn’t need it.

Oh look, I have a nosebleed. I’m going to bed, then.

What have you been up to lately?

Crisis Deepens

I am.

I will pull through, with perhaps only anger and feelings of profound insult propelling me.

Friends have always been a blessing, especially in crazy times. Stay with me and I promise not to lose my sense of humour. <3

Being Banal (Banana)

I feel like writing today, but I don’t really have anything burning on my mind. I’m a real airhead. However, what might be enjoyable would be to write a list of points about things that are enjoyable and interesting. Maybe even intruiging. Hamm.

1. Video games that I like
First and foremost, wing commander. Observe:

Breaking Free from sprite imaging. Wing Commander: ARMADA (featuring me about to roast a kitty)

Angel, your awesome belgian pal from WC1 (by WC3 you're dating her)

WING COMMANDER 3 HAD FULL MOTION VIDEO (nothing suss)

I love these games to tears because they’re so very immersive. The whole point of them was to take you along on a white-knuckle ride through a distant future, where giant spacefaring cats (the empire of Kilrah) insist on trying to destroy us all (hence the object of the game is to fly around destroying them, how delightfully black and white).

I freely acknowledge that the premise is harebrained and borrows heavily from most sci-fi TV series and movies of the time, but that’s beside the point. In these games, you get to fly around dispatching the enemy yourself, then come back to the carrier and listen to the barman giving you tactics advice while you’re trying to flirt with the mechanic. It’s vicarious living at it’s lighthearted best.

The only problem is, when you’re not busy with onboard intruigue, the game itself, that is the flying and lasering bit, is really quite hard. I’m slowly getting better at it but it’s a lot of rough and tumble. One of the great things about the wing commander games is that you always fly in pairs. Your wingman is usually better at attacking enemies and saving your skin than you are!

Also, in Wing commander 3, you play as Mark Hamill! And the hot ship’s mechanic is played by Ginger Allen. Fans are still compulsively re-arranging the game’s cutscenes into a feature film. Awesome.

I haven’t played WC4 yet- Strange that WC3 should be so easy to find anywhere secondhand games are sold but WC4 almosr unheard of. Someone promised me they’d give it to me for my nineteenth birthday, but I think it turned out to be too much bother. If anyone wants to give me a gift at some point, that’d be cool!

As a review, this had been a bit confused, but anyway. These games are really enjoyable, and I’m sad the company that made them has gone bust.

Oh and, Katamari is a great console game. A lot of fun to play with a pal. I played it last night on a friend’s PS2 and it was cool.

2. Blah Blah Housework

It’s almost time for me to vacuum the floors and mop them. Two days ago I was visiting a friend and we cleaned up the kitchen together after dinner and I realised it was quite enjoyable in company. I get annoyed having to clean the floors here though, by myself with the stupid loud vacuum. It’s boring. It’s also almost time to do the dishes.

3. Reading

I just finished reading all the stories in burning chrome, a collection of William Gibson’s short stories. Not being much of a literary critic, I struggle to explain why I like them, and the way they are written, but here goes.
I hate to use tags like ‘cyberpunk’ because once you put SF or anything really in a narrow slot like that there’s no escape. Copycats flock to pigeonholes like ‘cyberpunk’ and ’steampunk’, producing a work that conforms to a bizzarely rigid style for a genre as imaginative as Science Fiction.

you very pretty, yes

But I digress. I liked Burning Chrome because the stories somehow tread the line between adventure stories and examinations of characters and setting. It works, somehow. I can’t enjoy most of the ‘wow, postapocalypse/dystopia/war’ novels I find in the library, because they’re so damn overwrought, or dull. What can I say, I’m a picky reader. Anyway, I like Gibson’s style because it’s the future as told by the people of the future. It doesn’t stop to whinge over teenagers having thier eyes surgically replaced with cameras and computer programs that roast people trying to hack into them because that’s part of the everyday. It’s nice to read about people getting on with thier lives, I guess.

okay forget what I said about being a picky reader

I also just finished reading ‘take it like a man, an autobiography’ by Boy George and Spencer Bright. It was quite an enjoyable read. I read it with a curious mixture of envy and releif- I wish I’d been able to sneak into a Bowie concert when I was 11, I wouldn’t mind becoming famous for singing and dressing strangely, but I’m glad I haven’t been addicted to heroin, and involved in a  long term relationship where my lover and I have punch-ups on a regular basis. Being rich would be cool though.

Next I shall read ‘Everything is illuminated’ by Johnathan Safran Foer, because Clare said it was good. Her word is good on such things.

4. Chewing gum

I like to chew gum. I like to try all the different flavours. I especially like cinnamon chewing gum, but I so rarely find it in shops, even candy-specific shops.

5.Conclusion

Well, that’s that out of my system. I hope you have enjoyed this (and are now inspired to download wing commander games) and will be back soon.

Comment, lest I be made to feel unloved

Oh will you look at that!

I’m sorry, but is that a pubic hair I see stuck in my keyboard?

Mysterious! It’s long and thick and jet black, so I can’t have been from anywhere on me.

Looks like it was pulled out from the root.

I don’t remember anyone coming into my room and moulting on my laptop during the night, but maybe I need to sleep lighter!

I will catch you!

Crazy!

I will

reap my own bitter harvest

(This year, and always)

It Only Hurts When I’m Laughing

I know most of you don’t share my enthusiasm for Australian new wave music, But I’m going to put it there anyway. Find a good device to listen to it with, like proper speakers or a headset, and press play.

It has loud bits, and quiet bits! It’s a revolution in popular songwriting! Be floored (or at least not bored)!

Perhaps it is too personal or too posey to say that it struck a chord with me.

In other music news, I now prefer John Foxx to Midge Ure (Both were singers for the band Ultravox at different times), and I can’t beleive people are still arguing about it.There is an Ultravox record literally stuck on my stereo, so I’m listening to that at the expense of the rest of my collection. Unless I were to listen to a CD or computer recording, how wiley of me.

Anyway, what am I saying? This is Mi-Sex’s post. Listen, and enjoy.