In my MS the protagonist, part of the first manned mission to Mars, is on the surface and about to make contact with an alien vessel that has gone into orbit around the planet and dropped a space elevator to the ground. The protagonist must see if the aliens can in any way help Earth with a rogue asteroid that threatens to wipe out human civilisation. He has no certitude he will survive the encounter.
He is writing to his wife on Earth, having learned that her terminal illness has entered its final stage. Theirs has been a fairly cool marriage of convenience (husband and wife astronaut teams get on the Mars shortlist). Here is the message he sends her. What does it tell you about him?
He is writing to his wife on Earth, having learned that her terminal illness has entered its final stage. Theirs has been a fairly cool marriage of convenience (husband and wife astronaut teams get on the Mars shortlist). Here is the message he sends her. What does it tell you about him?
I stayed at the console and wrote another message for Sylvia. This was a much more difficult task than my previous missive to Mission. We had had a cool marriage, and had been apart for a year, and now she was at death’s door. I found it nearly impossible to write without appearing false or unfeeling, but the truth was I had had enough of the topic of death.
An hour later I leaned back in my chair, as dissatisfied with my effort as when I began. I was wavering between the choice of sending an unsatisfactory message or no message at all when the thought came to me: Just tell the truth. You love her or you wouldn’t be taking so much trouble over her. Start from that.
Armed with the thought I deleted the text I had written and started over.
Dear Sylvie,
This has been a difficult message to write. The fact is that I have had death on my mind constantly lately. Two of my crew are dead, murdered by a third crewmember who is with me now. That is why I am writing this message rather than making an audiovisual.
I learned the truth about your condition only recently. We have very little time so what I say must count.
The truth is we have not been close. I almost have the feeling ours was a marriage of convenience, something which was the proper thing to do. We accepted the situation and lived our lives accordingly. It seemed to work and we seemed happy.
I realise now that it is not enough. Life is too precious just to be content with getting by. There is—I don’t know—a significance to things, even trivial things. There must be something important—‘deep’ perhaps is the right word—behind them. Being married to you is a deep thing, I realise that only now.
I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I love you and wish with every particle of my being that I was with you now. That sounds strange coming from me, but it is the truth. I don’t want you to be alone at a time like this. Tessa was not alone. Domingo was with her, and carried her through. I think it had a big effect on me, seeing his faith in action. I am not like him but the least I can do is let you know that I am with you in heart even if I’m two hundred million kilometres away from you. Hope that helps.
Jason
Not perfect but the best I could do. As I sent it I prayed that the idiots at NASA would have enough sense to pass it on to her. There was nothing in it the whole world did not already know or would soon know, and with civilisation about to end what did it matter anyway? I wished Trinny would contact me. That at least would be proof NASA had overcome its bureaucratic paranoia.
An hour later I leaned back in my chair, as dissatisfied with my effort as when I began. I was wavering between the choice of sending an unsatisfactory message or no message at all when the thought came to me: Just tell the truth. You love her or you wouldn’t be taking so much trouble over her. Start from that.
Armed with the thought I deleted the text I had written and started over.
Dear Sylvie,
This has been a difficult message to write. The fact is that I have had death on my mind constantly lately. Two of my crew are dead, murdered by a third crewmember who is with me now. That is why I am writing this message rather than making an audiovisual.
I learned the truth about your condition only recently. We have very little time so what I say must count.
The truth is we have not been close. I almost have the feeling ours was a marriage of convenience, something which was the proper thing to do. We accepted the situation and lived our lives accordingly. It seemed to work and we seemed happy.
I realise now that it is not enough. Life is too precious just to be content with getting by. There is—I don’t know—a significance to things, even trivial things. There must be something important—‘deep’ perhaps is the right word—behind them. Being married to you is a deep thing, I realise that only now.
I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I love you and wish with every particle of my being that I was with you now. That sounds strange coming from me, but it is the truth. I don’t want you to be alone at a time like this. Tessa was not alone. Domingo was with her, and carried her through. I think it had a big effect on me, seeing his faith in action. I am not like him but the least I can do is let you know that I am with you in heart even if I’m two hundred million kilometres away from you. Hope that helps.
Jason
Not perfect but the best I could do. As I sent it I prayed that the idiots at NASA would have enough sense to pass it on to her. There was nothing in it the whole world did not already know or would soon know, and with civilisation about to end what did it matter anyway? I wished Trinny would contact me. That at least would be proof NASA had overcome its bureaucratic paranoia.
