Dear Peter
Hope this finds you. Goodness only knows how. But these things have a way of working out. Sometimes.
Look, I’m on this huuuuge dreadnought ship with Jack, lost in space. And it’s got a hole in the middle. I mean, who builds a ship with a hole in it? Well, presumably someone did.
Not that I’m surprised – the Robot pilot’s a drunk, the doctor’s a vet and the cook is a Madras (literally – the guy making our dinner is a living curry) and the priest is a born-again atheist. I ask you – how do I get into these situations? No, no don’t answer that.
Anyway, the hole in the ship is getting larger, I have to get the passengers (ie prisoners) from one end to the other, and it’s about to crash into a living sun (don’t ask).
People are disappearing into the hole, and then coming back. But different. Not quite so nice (and they were no bundles of fun to start with).
Oh yes, and then there’s the monsters. They were locked up. Then they weren’t. Which Jack says is my fault. Which may be true. And they want to eat us.
Quite why they call this ship The Adorable is, frankly, beyond me.
Anyway, assuming I survive monsters, holes, criminals and a walking curry, hope to see you soon.
Much love
Mum.
aka Professor Bernice Summerfield
aka Prisoner 442
Damn. Forgot to mention the “I’m here ‘cos I murdered someone” bit…