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Dear Corinthia,
I was so pleased to hear from you, I had to write back to you right away.
Unfortunately, my father is out of town at the moment, and unreachable. As
soon as he gets back online, I’ll write again with a full report on his
involvement in this unforgivable betrayal. I don’t want to dismiss your
struggles on Vacuus, but things are not all that great here either. I don’t
know what kind of updates you receive from Earth, but it has become a harsh
and uninviting place in its own right. The air has become poisoned with a
cocktail of chemicals created by a number of competing corporations in their
attempt to monopolize the world’s food supply. Some were trying to develop
perfect environments for their own crops, while others were attacking their
competitors, or they were hedging their bets, and doing both. This has left
us with a toxic atmosphere that could take decades to clear up, and that’s
only assuming the corporations don’t push on, and make things worse. I live
in a giant floating dome on the ocean, which is both sealed off from the
noxious fumes, and isolated from the Corporate Wars, which have been raging
for 18 years now. That is why father is away at the moment. He and the
ambassador are trying to negotiate a trade deal with a nearby land dome.
They are running out of space, but we are running out of resources. We’re
relatively new, and healthy, but I have not always lived here, and I have
seen how bad things can get on the outside. So, sister, I’m not so sure that
I should count myself the lucky one. We would both die by opening our
respective doors, but at least no one did it to you on purpose. Even so,
with all that I have been through over the course of the 36 years that you
and I have been alive, I know that I am more fortunate than most people
here. There are those who do not even have access to one of the domes. They
found pockets of technically survivable air in the deepest corners of the
planet, so they don’t die in a matter of hours, but their lifespans are
quite short when compared to ours. On a personal note, I would like to thank
you for reaching out to me. I never would have known that you existed.
Father is not the kind of person who would confess something like that, even
on his deathbed. He will be taking a number of grudges and secrets to his
grave. Again, I’ll write again once I learn more from him. There also might
be others here who know what happened, and exactly why.
Your other half,
Condor Sloane
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