Part 1 .

You know guys,  space drunk is good drunk. It’s very carefully measured out, based on my vital statistics don’t you know, just enough booze to get me a little sloshed and then I’m locked out until some of that has passed through my system.

Of course there’s a solution to that, I siphoned it off, saved it up and got rowdy. Still am to be honest. No highway patrol here to breathalyse me, I guess I’m not driving this hunk of shit so what difference.

If you’ve ever got so drunk the room seems spinning, you’d appreciate the complications presented in a room that’s actually spinning. Yes. I vomited. Yes, it’s a real mess. No, I have not cleaned it up yet. Yes, I will be feeding it to the ants, why wouldn’t I?

So, I got the ping back. Thanks guys. And, yes, someone eventually got through to me on the emergency comms channel. David Crabb from Engadine, I thank you for making the effort to hack it up to me. I’m up to speed in so many ways now.

Dear Mr Ellis. I’m sorry you got caught for your many crimes, and sorrier still that you decided to face the elysian fields than prison, it sounds like I can’t blame you, I probably would have done the same.

And to Dr Jarrod Carrington, shame on you for being involved on all this! This is not befitting of your national treasure status. I must say your transgressions have made me reconsider the dynamics of our conversations, and not in a manner favourable to yourself. But, on a positive note, good on you for facing the judiciary, I wish you all the best.

To those of you at Paradigm, and I realise this was a secret enterprise, but I met many of you, enough indeed that I don’t think it’s beyond the realm of expectation that one of you could have advertised my situation to an appropriate authority. They took every asset you had it seems, except this one.

Finally, to the European Space Agency, to NASA, the Swedish National Space Board, any of you, whoever wants it the most, I put myself in your hands to please be the mission control to my errant mission. I will consider any offers for the next week. Mr Crabb indicated he’d share his work with at least some of you, for those who he did not, do reach out yourself.

It was not my intention, on embarking on this mission, to end up waxing earnestly for an overseer or taskmaster, but your luck is in, much as my bravery is out, because I can’t think of anything more scary right now than pointlessly arcing out in to space without even the barely credible justification that someone back on a distant ball of rock and water is very happy about all of it, every last bit. I am not a billion dollar turkey, I won’t be!

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