June 10th, 2037
2350
Dear
Earth Diary
After all
this time. I’m home.
The place
looks pretty much as I left it, aside from a layer of dust and some milk I
rather unfortunately forgot was in the fridge before I left.
Oh, and
several hundred discarded wooden crates in my front lawn. My neighbour is less
than impressed.
Firstly,
they’re an eyesore. Secondly, he had to sign for them as Mary had neglected to
select “No signature required” when altering the addresses. And thirdly, he
thought I was dead and was starting to slowly take over my backyard. He even
put up a swing set.
I had a
go. Quite fun.
The Marys
had been installed in a fallout shelter that had remained dormant ever since
nuclear war didn’t happen, which on the whole was a plus for everyone. Fairly
utilitarian but then much comfier than a cloning vat or a wooden crate so I
imagine it was a step up for them. They were arguing with a government social
worker about trying to establish contact with the Marys on Splat. The social
worker was understandably not especially versed in interstellar communication
so it was a fruitless but determined argument on both sides.
I
honestly don’t know what’s going to happen to them, but their optimism is
infectious once you’re back on solid non-pink ground. I really hope they make
it. I’ll help if I can.
Mary
herself was taken away by the medical staff when we arrived. I’m told she
should be alright, but that she’s lost a lot of blood and has been through a
lot, so it’s anyone’s guess as to when and how she wakes up. They seemed pretty
certain on the ‘if’ though which is arguably the main thing.
Mary
Sixty-Seven seemed pretty set on that drink. Who knows, maybe I’ll go. I think
I’ve had my fill of Marys for a little while though. I’ve got her number.
The
government officials that met us at the shelter quarantined everything from off
world that we had on us. I chose not to tell them about Mr Rock. His smile says
he agrees with me. God, I hate that smile.
So… now
what? I really don’t know what I should be doing.
RING RING
That’s
weird. Why is my phone ringing? Who rings a dead person at this time of night?
...Er,
hello?
“Hi. It’s
me.”
Who’s me?
“Mary.”
Which
one?
“The Mary.”
…You’re
awake?
“No this
is all just a dream.”
Mine or
yours?
“I’m
really hoping yours, because if I’m a figment of your imagination I won’t have
to remember this conversation.”
How are
you feeling?
“Like
hell. Absolute hell. But I’m awake. And apparently stable, whatever that
means.”
I’m
really happy to hear that.
“I’m glad
you’re at home. Will you come visit us tomorrow? This might sound weird but I’m
kind of used to having you around.
Listen.
Can you do me a favour?”
Of
course! What?
“Shut
up.”
Good
idea.
The End