hoshizora

My dear Pyotr,

Your previous missive contained such a startling combination of misinformed thinking and out-and-out falsehood that it has taken me some time to respond. Of course, part of the delay was caused by the fractally-recursive pseudointelligent virus you so kindly packaged along with the messsage. Bravo, my old comrade -- you have clearly lost none of your algorithmic acumen, but you may be disappointed to learn that I -- and my information infrastructure here on Phobos -- remain intact.

It was admittedly touch-and-go there for a few hours; a fact you should take legitimate pride in.

I do not have time to engage all the points you made in your previous message, but I will say that the weaponized prion that killed your wife and mother was not, despite what that hateful scandal-monger Van Der Merwe will tell you, my design. I wish that I could absolve myself entirely from its creation, but to deny it -- as I would dearly love to do! -- would be a lie. No, I did indeed create the ancestor of the prion, but it was my intention to turn its virulence to the Martian Problem, by gifting the population of our second most populace world with the ability to breathe -- truly breathe! -- their planet's atmosphere.

However, my idealism was my downfall, as the Major Rabinov-Zhang had his team changed those crucial few amino acids, turning the genetic gift of the airborne prion into a deadly weapon. When he delivered the payload to my seeder-drones, I foolishly assumed my work had not been tampered with, but the rest is history. I bear the weight of the half-million that died in Tharsis City that day; despite the promise that prions hold for our species, I have not touched them since. Even that will ring hollow to you, no doubt, and it is true that I cannot bring Emma or Dr. Chebotaryov back.

I see that you will not see reason regarding my involvement with the Lunar Confederacy; time will tell if I am making another mistake, but I do not believe that I am. Freedom of religion is an important right in these troubled times, and if Moonbrother Heart can unite his people in the name of peace, then who are we to meddle? One man's cult is another's saving grace; if you had seen, as I have, the poverty that ran rampant in New Armstrong before the Moonbrother's ascension, you might feel differently. His embrace of my nanometer-scale manufacturing dots is part of what is powering his world's new economy, and I feel no need to apologize for that.

Finally, regarding the Sol Society's idealistic goals and your public support of them -- it is not that I disagree in principle, my friend. Far from it. But their simplistic platitudes have no place in a complicated star system. If you would call my research on behalf of the Io sulfer miners "deranged," (and the increased life expectancy of the miners who've taken my treatments argues strongly against such an accusation) look no further than the Sol Society's own postion on the Muon-Inverter Drive -- they would ban the use of the very engine that powers interplanetary commerce, and over what? The vanishingly small chance of a gamma-ray burst? Preposterous!

Allying yourself with naive idealists and fanatics does not become you, Pyotr. Nevertheless, I remain,

Your friend,

Q. Tristan Ellison