letter to byerly #1

[vorbratta]

Dearest Byerly, my friend, my confidante, my heart—

Before I say anything else, you must know that I miss you. I miss you terribly. I know this letter will never reach you, but I need to commit it to paper nonetheless. I have nothing else to ground me here.

I hardly know where to begin. It’s all so strange—and strange, as you know, is purely relative. I’m not on Barrayar anymore. Whatever happened back home to draw the outsiders in is happening here, too. They have their own wormhole device—they call it a “space bridge”—and it’s been pulling people in from all different worlds and times. Only here, this time, nobody else is human. It’s just me.

Do you remember Ratchet and Tarn? How they weren’t human in their own world, but robots—Cybertronians? That’s the whole lot of them here, robots every one of them. I’ve met a few so far—they’re alright. For the most part, they seem bemused by humans, but I’ve made a few friends. It’s all so strange, though. So strange, and so very lonely. And not everyone here is a friend. Tarn is here, too. Not the one we knew, but it’s Tarn all the same. He’s currently indisposed—strapped to a medical table—but I couldn’t truthfully say I’m not still frightened of him. He’s even more terrifying in his true form. I don’t think I should ever like to visit their home planet. They’re gigantic, Byerly—absolute titans. Most of them can pick me up and carry me in the palm of their hand. I never even imagined! It’s unnerving at first, I’ll admit, but if you’re not too afraid of heights, it’s a bit like being carried about on a lavish litter. The sort of thing a Vor lady deserves, don’t you think?

I’m rambling. This entire letter is rambling. I’ve been here less than a day, and the last thing I remember is saying goodbye to you and Miles and all the rest and then all of a sudden I was just here. It’s like the worst case of jump lag I’ve ever had, except the shock of it just won’t wear off. I just wish I could see your face, talk to you—I know you’d make some fantastically clever and off-color remarks and I’d laugh, and it would all make the world seem less mad. I need you to make the world seem less mad.

We’re all aboard a ship, the R1. No one really seems to be in charge, which is alarming to say the least. It’s all chaos and tension. But—and you’ll never believe this—we’re crashed on the moon. Not a moon—the moon. I can see Earth from the observation deck. I’ve never been so close to it before. It looks just like all the pictures from my old school books—this great big blue and white marble. It’s absolutely breathtaking.

But it’s not our Earth. It’s not even our time. Rodimus—he’s one of the friendly ones, you’d probably hate him—told me that the year is 2017, Earth standard. So not only am I worlds away from home, I’m out of time, too. A whole millenium away from home. Even if Barrayar does exist somewhere in this world, it hasn’t even been discovered yet. The Earthers haven’t even made it past their own moon. It’s a lonely feeling.

But I’m alright for now. This is a Cybertronian ship and it’s quite big for a human, but there’s an abandoned human base on the moon, and there are supplies there. Clothes, bedrolls, food—tantamount to ratbars, but after the last ten years, that’s enough. I’ll make do. I’ve had practice enough, haven’t I? At least I’m in a climate-controlled environment again. It’s absolute heaven, Byerly—but all the same, what I wouldn’t do for a good Vorkosigan vintage right now. A lady needs a drink after a day like this.

I’m just thankful that one of my new friends was willing to take me there so I could have food and fresh clothes. His name is Drift—I think you’d probably take great pleasure in teasing him, but I’m rather fond of him so far. He’s just so…sweet, and he didn’t make any comment about how squishable I am. The bar here is fairly low. But he’s a man of honor, I can tell. He understands.

Rodimus has a good heart, too. They know about war here, too—they were at it for four million years. It makes our ten years of strife seem a bit paltry, doesn’t it? He told me about his youth in the war, the things he’d seen and done…theirs is over, but they understand. Everything here feels so alien, any common ground is a comfort. I wish it weren’t something so macabre.

Although—and I laughed to myself just now thinking about it—it’s not the only common ground, as I learned from Rodimus. It turns out Cybertronians and humans like to do much the same things with each other for fun. They’ve even got the same parts, more or less. Apparently we organics have been quite the inspiration. Can you imagine? Their intrepid explorers leave the planet to learn more about the universe around them, seeking new knowledge, and they bring back new ways to fuck. Maybe it’s silly, but it makes them somewhat less opaque to me.

I don’t know what to do. It’s only been one day, and I was doing alright, but now that I’m settled in my new quarters—it’s so big, it’s like having a whole flat to myself, except without any furniture or a floor plan—but now I can feel the weight of it all coming on. And I’m sure if you were here, you’d tease me until I smiled. “The poor Princess, cursed to a life of adventure and air conditioning.” I can just about hear it in your voice. But you aren’t here, and I miss you. I miss you, and Miles, and my sister—I can’t even think of her without starting to cry. And I miss Tucker. I’m so far away, but it feels so fresh. It was just yesterday, you’d all gone home—I hope—and then the Cetagandans caught up to us, and now…I’m here. Tucker’s death—it hurts to write the words—only just happened, and I have no one here to confide in. Where are you when I need you most, Byerly?

At least you won’t even have known I’m gone. If Dr. Niadem’s Star Gate worked, you’ll be home now, and none the wiser to my disappearance. But I worry about my sister. I know it was reckless and stupid and wholly irresponsible, sneaking onto the ship like that, but I just needed to say goodbye. I was going to come back straightaway. What if Olivia thinks I’m dead? I can’t bear the thought. It must have been cruel of me to be so selfish. Maybe if I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t be here. I feel like a fool.

But I will go home. Just as sure as I am that we’ll win the war, I know I’ll return to Barrayar. I met another robot named Soundwave—he seems to be an expert on this space bridge, he’s working to fix it. They all want to go home, and if Soundwave can send them home, he can send me home, too. I’ll go back to Barrayar, and I’ll tell Livvy how sorry I am, and it’ll be alright again. It will.

It’s so strange. I can’t stop thinking the words. All I’ve wanted these last ten years was to get away from the war, to find that escape. And for a time, you were that escape Byerly—do you know that you saved me, in your own way? You truly did. But now that I’m here, as far from the war as I could possibly get, and I’ve never felt more homesick. The heart is a cruel thing, sometimes.

You’ll never read this, but I’m writing it anyway. It’s almost like talking to you—almost like having you here. And maybe I’ll feel better when I visit Earth—Soundwave said the space bridge was functional in the short-range—maybe being around other humans will make things a little easier. But I’ll keep writing you, Byerly. I miss you too much, and besides—who else would I gossip with? No one else compares.

Fondly,
Your dear Princess Sonia