Email Letter Received
The window of my room faces southwest. The view is pleasant. Between two buildings, you can see the horizon. Being able to gaze as far as the horizon is important to me. In winter evenings, I can see the constellation Orion from here. I believe that Orion could be a symbol for the inhabitants of our planet. It is a beautiful and most distinct constellation. It's evening again, but now Leo shines before me. I don't know if you agree with me, but I think the southern part of the sky is more interesting than the northern. If you're going to buy an apartment in a block, I advise choosing one with windows facing south.
My desk with a black top stands before the window, and the room is carpeted with a red rug. Each time I moved apartments, I tried to ensure my room had a floor covered with a red carpet. This dates back to my student days when a French colleague in the same field, going on vacation, lent me his room on Rue des Gobelins. That little room was covered with a bright burgundy carpet.
On my carpet here now lies my favorite beige leather suitcase, into which I toss things I will need. I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm sitting at my desk, rereading my paper. Essentially, though, I'm staring at Mars, which has entered the constellation Leo and has been sitting there for a month. I already know my paper by heart. Besides, when I present my work, I usually say things I haven't written in the text at all. In the evening after the presentation, I read the text again. I am very absorbed in experiencing such a session once more. I'm curious, for example, about what I omitted and what I added.
My contemplation of the scenario for tomorrow's presentation was interrupted by the rattling beep of my computer, which knows everything and, moreover, can display erotic films and play music. Of course, it's a fool. It's the world that knows everything, and it only pulls out from the world's guts what others have put in there. That's why I affectionately call my computer "Imbecile." Imbecile was just informing me that I had received an email. I looked at the screen and was stunned. In large pink letters on a yellow background, Imbecile displayed the text of the letter that had just arrived:
"My name is Jaycee McPeteren. I'm also participating in the conference on the alleged explanation of the Fermi Paradox. I'm packing right now and will be leaving for Cubbyhole shortly. Maybe you checked; I'm the one giving the paper titled 'Ultimate Civilizations Inhabiting the Interiors of Heavy Stars and Communicating with Us Through Pulsars.' I'm dying to know what you intend to say in your strange paper. I have no doubt that when the man who created the Internet plans to talk about ways to achieve immortality, he has something important to say. However, I'm writing to you now for other important reasons..."
I shouted, "Lucia, come see! Imbecile is displaying an ordinary letter in pink letters on a yellow background! After all, 'for heaven's sake,' my computer, which usually behaves normally, displays incoming email in black letters on a pale blue background!" I said aloud, as one must speak to him, "Imbecile, scroll up." The computer displayed the next part of the letter that had arrived. Lucia was already standing behind me, also staring at the screen:
"I don't know if you sense it too, but we are exceptionally close to a 'global critical moment,' so you have to help us. You have that computer program for listening and translating the conversations of super-beings to a lower, human level. You call it, as we know, 'NaTRoNa.' Besides, you know something else that can be done with that 'NaTRoNa,' something we don't understand. Please bring the proper pendrive to Cubbyhole... I'm online!"
"How the hell did she do that?"
"What?"
"That Imbecile displays the text of the letter in pink letters on a yellow background."
"And how does she know you developed 'NaTRoNa'?"
"I don't know!"
"Then ask her!"
I immediately typed on the keyboard, "Jaycee, my wife asks how you know about 'NaTRoNa'?" Immediately, a message appeared:
"I'll explain to you in Cubbyhole!"
"Write that you won't go to Cubbyhole because I won't let you!"
"Lucia, I can hear you!"—a voice came from my computer's speaker. I was flabbergasted; she, this Jaycee, had taken over my computer's hardware. Imbecile not only displays mail in yellow letters but also talks when told to. From the speakers, Jaycee Mac Peteren's voice continued:
"Lucia, he has to come. Otherwise, we could all die."
"I don't see any comet approaching. What exactly is supposed to threaten us? And who am I talking to, anyway? May I know?"
"My name is Jaycee. I'm your husband's sister."
Lucia fell silent, and I turned pale. My amazement increased when the last phrase, spoken aloud by Jaycee, also appeared on Imbecile's screen. Large pink letters this time on a green background formed the text:
"I, Jaycee, am your sister Bron!!!"
"Ask her where she gets that from," said Lucia, apparently taking the hypothesis somewhat seriously that these might not be jokes.
"Aha! You want proof. I understand! I'll convince you in a moment!"—Jaycee's calm voice flowed again from the speaker.
"Lucia! Probably Bron told you that he barely remembers his mother. He probably told you that her name was Vivian, that when Bron was five years old, she gave him up for upbringing. She gave him to good people you know, who introduced themselves to you once as his parents. Vivian had earlier assigned him a task.
"Listen! This is true, but that's no proof because, as you can see, you're eavesdropping on us here. You simply know this from the conversations Bron has with me. This is no proof that you're close to him, that you come from the same family as he does."
"Lucia, listen to me carefully! Bron is my brother. And it's also important for you that he comes to Cubbyhole tomorrow. After all, I don't know if Bron ever told you that he comes from a large family? My brother Noah, also his brother, is also supposed to give a paper tomorrow. I also don't know if Bron told you that his mother kept insisting that she was an 'alien'? Maybe he forgot to tell you that she promised him she would return one day if she managed to 'get out' because to fly away from here, she only has an old, dilapidated 'transporter.'"
"Bron! What is she babbling about some alien mother? About some transporter?"
"Lucia. I don't know what's going on! However, I vaguely recall that my mother often told me she came from another planet! I didn't understand then what 'another planet' meant. She certainly told me that many times. I didn't repeat it to you because I didn't want to be ridiculous. It's also true that she often told me she would return. She had tears in her eyes then. I have to go to Cubbyhole tomorrow, and I'll take the pendrive with 'NaTRoNa.'"
"Do as you wish! You know I never stand in your way when you pursue your various, usually bizarre endeavors. I love you. Go to Cubbyhole. Go to sleep now! And we'll talk about the alien mother when you return. Maybe you'll know more then because I see you're kind of confused. Good night! Good night, Jaycee! And turn yourself off already because I might smash this Imbecile with a hammer. Some sister!"
I see I won't pack properly. I'll surely forget something again. The conference starts tomorrow late afternoon. Only Noah is supposed to speak tomorrow, and then there's supposed to be an 'introductory banquet.'
So I have to go to sleep now? I'll take Valium because after all this, I won't fall asleep. When I take Valium, unfortunately, I'm not fully functional the next day, and it seems I should be sharp tomorrow.
But Valium works great. Good night. You also take Valium tonight. After all, tomorrow awaits you the reading of the continuation of my report!
