by J. S. Volpe
* * *
T-mail transmission:
From: Solace Tenant
To: Reynard Fuggs
July 7, 6692; 5:43 AM:
Good Morning, Reynard,
Wow, you were right about the heat getting worse. It’s even hotter now than it was when last I wrote. The temperature’s a constant 101 degrees. My air chiller hasn’t shut off in days. I’m fortunate I have it. Every day I hear news reports about people dying of heatstroke. Thankfully the Serobaran government is in talks with an air chiller manufacturer in Djoteth to buy a huge quantity of air chillers at a bulk discount then distribute them to those who can’t afford them. Even then, though, it probably won’t be enough for everyone.
My, your happy moment certainly was evocatively written. I can tell it made quite an impression on you. I feel kind of sorry for the girl, since you don’t even remember her name. Though in a way I guess she should feel flattered that she’s being remembered in some form so many millennia after she’s just dust. Most people don’t get anywhere near that much.
And yes, alas, the discovery of sex really does complicate everything, doesn’t it?
My own happiest moment, as clichéd and sappy as it sounds, was the birth of my daughter Cara. Sometimes even now I still dream about her and miss her very very much. And she’s been gone so long. Well, except in my heart. But the birth was so easy and painless. I really thought it would be difficult and agonizing. That’s what I’d been led to believe by my experiences in Interon; there, babies were conceived outside the womb with their parents’ genetic materials and grown in special incubators called Gestation Units, partly to spare the mothers the pain and risks of pregnancy and childbirth. So I’d grown up thinking childbirth was something terrible. Of course, after the Cataclysm I saw plenty of natural births, some painful, some not; but in my mind I remained convinced that were I ever to give birth it would be a torturous and perhaps even fatal experience. But when it came time for Cara to be born, it was swift and easy, and before I knew what was happening I had this chubby pink baby in my arms. She wasn’t even crying; she was merely regarding me with that concerned, bewildered look babies often have, the one where it looks like they want to understand what something is but lack the words and concepts to make sense of it. I broke down at that point, I have to admit, just started bawling my eyes out. And you know what? Cara didn’t cry even then. Instead she made this tiny cooing sound. It sounded almost empathetic, as if she wished to comfort me. Oh, she was so good and beautiful.
But listen to me going on. I’m starting to make myself cry. Time, I think, for me to sign off.
Be well.
—solace