The Moonday Letters by Emmi Itäranta

Author:Emmi Itäranta
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Titan Books

25.3.2168

Train

Isidis Planitia, Mars

Later

My hand is cramping from all the writing, but there’s nothing to do on this bloody train but scratch flea bites, gaze into the darkness and write. In the middle of last night I sought out the train cleaner again. She stubbed out her cigarette without hurry and dropped the butt in her bucket when she saw me approaching. I eyed her cleaning cart. Just as I had thought, on the side of one of the bottles there was a label that said Vinegar.

“How’s your cat?” the cleaner asked.

“Flea-ridden,” I replied. I pointed at the vinegar bottle. “I’ve come to trade.”

The cleaner pulled a rubber glove off her hand with a snap.

“Valid currencies at Gertrude’s Cart are coffee, tobacco products, cannabis, alcohol, drugs that relieve radiation sickness, chocolate – except if it’s made on Europa, that’s sub-standard – and sheep skins.”

“I don’t have any of those,” I replied. “How about this?”

I handed her a small silicone sachet. She took it, gave me a suspicious look, opened the mouth of the sachet and sniffed the contents.

“Mushrooms?” she said.

“The best and safest psilocybin this side of the Moon,” I said. “When used correctly, a guaranteed trip to cosmic spheres, no harmful side effects.”

“I don’t trade in illegal substances,” Gertrude said.

“Maiden’s cloak is not illegal in professional use.”

Gertrude twisted her face.

“Very well,” she said. “But only one bottle.”

She pushed the canvas sachet into her pocket and handed me the vinegar bottle. I tilted the bottle in order to see the amount of the vinegar.

“It’s not full.”

“How regrettable,” Gertrude said. “The resources of our store are limited. Take it or leave it.”

I sighed and took the bottle. It wasn’t the best flea repellent in existence, but it was the best I could do for now.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” Gertrude said.

I nodded at her and turned. Then I remembered something that had been bothering me.

“Sheep skins?”

“My lower back can’t stand drafts,” Gertrude replied.

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