A letter

Dearest Sister,

It is with great sadness, and truth be told, great relief that say I goodbye to my youngest daughter and my husband on the same day. He didn't have much to say as we parted ways. Clara wept as he followed Cordelia onto the U.S.S Roosevelt, the American cosmoliner (which they, in typical American fashion, simply call a "space blimp"). I held her tightly, listening to her weep about how unfair life is to take her greatest joy from her, and deposit her in a stuffy old university for a semester of calculations and meaningless experiments.

Truth be told, it was I that suggested your daughter travel with Samuel. She certainly takes more after you than I am comfortable with. Clara is too delicate, and much too indiscreet, to indulge herself as you and I, and now Cordelia, are fond of. Some time with her nose in a book and pen in her hand will do her good, provided Mr Drake can keep her "entertained" and out of the arms of unscrupulous professors.

Samuel's worsening depravity also figured heavily into my decision. I long ago accepted his perversions, accepting the spankings, performing degenerate acts with the servants while he watched, sealing his business deals with my tender flesh, as is expected here. While it is true that he shares no blood with Clara, a fact that she is still unaware of, it certainly does not excuse his behavior with her. When we signed up for the Program and she was placed in our care, we were told that she was never to know her true parentage, and that we were to raise her as if she were our own flesh and blood.

Now you know as well as I, all too well in fact, that the Blush has led to some unfortunately shameful couplings between relatives, and that the wisdom of the Eugenicists to conceal the fact that the dawn of Homo Brittanicus must not suffer from a perversion of the genes was truly a wise one. What he did, and forced my participation in, at the masquerade was truly monstrous; even if it was at the insistence of Sir Prescott. I pray she never finds out that it was he and I behind those masks.

Also, her inoculation will have ran its course before too long, and her body's natural fertility will return. Could you imagine what it would have been like to be a mother at that age? I am glad my birthing days are long behind me, and now that Sam Jr is to be a father, I can take the Shot and sterilize myself for good. I'm nearing 50 years of age, and while I will miss the unnatural youth that comes with the Proteus Treatment, I will learn to accept looking as old as I actually am.

While Sam Jr is nothing like his father, thank heavens, and is truly my son; I do wish I could have had a daughter and not just been the incubator for some Duchess's already fertilized eggs. I suppose I should be happy. Poor Sura has no idea that her child is destined for a still birth. The smile and pride she shows as she rubs her growing belly is almost too much to bear. Still, it is the only way to insure that our servants won't outpace us in the population game. I often wonder if the Eugenicists concocted "the Blush" as well to insure our desires overcome our prudishness, putting it in with one of the endless vaccinations one gets before arriving on Rajah-4, or whether its something from the planet itself.

So then, I invite you for a visit while I still have my unnatural vigor before taking the final trip to Dr Miller. I'll be quite lonely here without a bubbling girl and bastard husband to keep me occupied. I've plenty of room for you and your pets, though I don't suggest letting Sir Mittens wander outside. Bruto would certainly make him a snack! Also, you simply must meet Chauncey, a rather peculiar animal that performed in the Grand Rajan Circus before being gifted to us by Mr Patterson. He has some rather unique skills, a testament to his training.

Yours Truly,

Lillian