An open letter written by a Trins to his grandmother on Trins Voghusht.
Date: 3 eons, 14,160 eras, 4 elapses, and 9,292 time units
As you know, Grandmother, I live in a small aquarium in the outskirts of Kriosh. The main aquarium in the city has been contaminated with the Biomass, so many of my friends are dead or dying. I am safe here and likely would remain so for quite some time. We have already prevented entrance of any person into our aquatic network of tubes and spheres that allows us to live on this terrestrial planet.
Most aquariums on Kkruk are above ground, with tubes and larger spaces that allow us to traverse the entire city. Photosynthetic organisms are grown in large, clear glass containers until they are fed to fish, which we ultimately consume. We have special vehicles that support large volumes of water so that we can travel over land to other aquariums. Many Trins who live on the home planet or who live in the oceans of this planet think that this life is too confining. I, however, enjoy it. There are millions of cubic distance units in any given aquarium for us to explore.
The aquarium I live in is built differently from most. It is not in an ocean and it is below ground. Even the portion that breads microscopic photosynthetic organisms is fed with synthetic light. The community has an interesting history. It was designed by a group of Trins that believed an above-ground habitat was pointless when we had to confine ourselves to solid pipes and spheres and nodes. Why take up valuable real estate when there was so much room beneath ground? The cost of digging ended up to be more expensive than anticipated, so not many underground aquariums were constructed since then.
We proofed our home against the Biomass by closing off the door to all outsiders. This is easier to do in an underground place where the larger creatures have no easily identifiable target to attack. The traditional aquariums walls, ports, filters, and tubes that can easily by targeted by stupid creatures. Because we are underground, the Biomass might not even know that we're here.
Nevertheless, this will still be my last communication with you, Grandmother. I will be dead perhaps even before this message reaches you.
Not daring to tempt fate, military and quarantine authorities have decided to kill the infection before it spreads too far. As I write, there is a fleet of SPIREs arranging themselves in geosynchronous orbit over three of Kkruk's major space ports. They will rain down thousands of teraenergies of gamma radiation not only on the cities, but on all surrounding areas as well. I am in the blast radius. The Biomass has not come this far and the radiation will not come down directly on my head, but the waves of vaporized ground and metal will boil the water in my aquarium. We, as a community, have decided to pump a sleeping agent into our water so that we will not feel the pain.
It is easy for a person in my position to feel resentful. I was not consulted in the decision that will ultimately end my life. I am aware of my doom, and the authorities know that their plans are not secret. However, I understand the consequences of inaction. I would not want to live underground on Kurdon or Kon, covered as they are in slime. I understand that by ending my life, the authorities intend to save many millions of other lives. We absolutely should stop the Biomass from getting a stranglehold on Kkruk. Therefore, if I had been asked, I would have consented to my death.
My consent should not be taken for nihilism, depression, or helplessness. I do not want to be seen as a Trins who did not value his life. I am sad. I have a daughter on Akus who I will never see again. My life's work will be put on hold indefinitely. All the work I have done to improve my community was in vain, because my community will soon be no more. I would have liked to continue my life. It held meaning for me. Nevertheless, there are others who would like to continue their lives as well. They will be unable to do so unless the SPIRE unleashes its fury upon the Biomass.
Grandmother, I write to you in particular because you taught me many things that guided me through life. You taught me how to love in relationship when you taught me how to play nicely with my cousins. You taught me respect when you showed respect by example. You showed my how to nurture in the way you cared for Grandfather as he passed. You taught me acceptance after he died, instructing me to value that which exists rather than mourning that which does not exist. Grandmother, they are your wise words that are with me today.
I did not worship The Savior as you had instructed me. I never leaned towards atheism, but I find it so difficult to put The Savior in a place of importance in my life. You told me that if I didn't offer the center of my life to a divine being, that I myself would become the center. You said I would become self-centered. Looking back, I once again see your wisdom. I can count a number of times in which I acted self-centered manner. Today, however, I will pray. I will pray until I fall asleep.
I write this as an open letter, as many in my community are doing, so that the broader GCS will understand more about the real, personal cost of the Biomass. This plague is enormously destructive and resources should be invested in its destruction. I pray that it will not spread to any additional planets. I deeply hope that it will never leave YM1-5-43, the forty-third solar system with one yellow medium star and five planets.
I still have fond memories of Trins Voghusht, BL1-6-3. I am glad you are there, so far away from this contagion. I hope the Biomass never finds you, because it travels so much faster through water than through air.