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My Beloved Child,
My
name is Arthur Hanover, and what I am about to tell you may come as rather a
shock: I am your uncle. A relative you never knew existed, and about whom no
one has ever spoken. I have chosen this moment to reveal my existence because I
am the last of my line, and growing old.
More importantly, you are named in my will as the inheritor of my estate, title and wealth.
This includes my
ancestral home, Hanover Manor.
In
order to secure your inheritance, however, there are some documents that must
be presented by you to the local probate court. This will require that you come
to England. To that end, I have enclosed an assortment of vouchers good for
first-class travel to London and onwards to my estate. In addition, there is a
cheque for £20,000, an amount I trust will be sufficient to cover your expenses
during your journey.
You may, of course,
choose to ignore this invitation and simply cash the enclosed cheque. The world
is in such a state of utter paranoia these days that I would not be surprised
if you did. However, if I’ve assessed your character correctly, you are neither
faint of heart nor lacking a sense of adventure. I believe you will come.
If
you do make the journey, what awaits you besides wealth, property and a title
is this: a complete explanation of your relationship to me. Curiosity, I am
certain, is what propels gifted people like yourself through life.
But for reasons I cannot disclose, I must urgently
request that you tell no one of this letter or your plans. It is for your own
good, my child, believe me. After the court receives the documents, you may say
and do as you please.
Finally,
as a reassurance that I am who I say, I’ve included a copy of my entry in
Burke’s Peerage.
Affectionately,
Hanover Manor
Let me reassure you
that there is absolutely nothing sordid about our connection.
Three of the four documents now in your
possession will provide ironclad proof of that. To wit: my last will and
testament; the findings of the court; and the report from the Genealogical
Society, which establishes that there are no other claimants to my properties
or title.
The fourth and final
document is the deed to Hanover Manor. All four must be presented to the local
court before you can assume your inheritance.
Now
as to me. Why, you may ask, do I not simply tell you everything about our
family ties? In partial answer, let me say that my entire existence has been
reflected by a simple mirrored principle: “Life is discovery, and discovery
life.”
None
of the things I have invented would have taken shape had I not persisted in
looking beyond the obvious and the possible. From my observations I know you
also possess this overwhelming degree of curiosity. That is fortunate, because
I foresee the likelihood of certain obstacles—perhaps even active
interference—during your quest.
My
wish to have you overcome these difficulties comprises the other part of my
answer to your question of why I’ve offered no forthright explanation of our
relationship: I want you to one day embrace the entire manor staff as new
additions to your family. For years they gave me loyal and devoted service, and
I cherish them all.
Yet
now you have arrived in their midst as a stranger and a potential threat; never
was any guest so utterly unexpected at Manor House. But if you come to know my
servants well, and they you, I am confident that strong new bonds will emerge
to replace those that were severed with my passing.
I
believe that humans best establish close ties by resolving conflicts and
working together toward a common purpose. This is what I hope you will
accomplish in the early days of your new life at Manor House. I devoutly hope
that you win the entire staff over and that together you discover the truth
about my work, my life, and us.
Affectionately,
Arthur Hanover
Lucerne, Switzerland
In
spirit, I have always been your uncle. But that which makes men kin—the
connection of blood—did not exist until I was near death. And it was I who
fashioned the link, through a method of DNA manipulation I devised.
Demonstrating that this was possible has been my life’s greatest work, and now
you stand as living proof.
A
frightful thing, eh? But then nothing was ever done to you, although I was
forced to have someone “appropriate” your medical records so I could alter mine
accordingly. The result is that we are now related by blood, genes and
everything considered necessary by the courts and even the genealogical
societies.
Well,
no doubt you are wondering why I did this. The answer lies in the distant past.
I learnt I had a genetic disease, one I had no desire to pass on to another
generation. I will not go into details here; suffice it to say that my
affliction kept me from siring an heir of my own.
I
had been blessed with the relative freedom wealth brings, the joys of science,
and good friends. I was determined to squeeze everything I could out of life.
But even while still relatively young, I foresaw that with my passing the
Hanover estate would almost certainly be parceled out to the highest bidder.
That I could not abide. There is something noble about the continuity of a
great house; like a living being, massive yet delicate, it draws vitality from
its master or mistress.
At
some point, then, I began actively searching for a cure for my illness. I never
found it. Instead, I discovered an alternative path, the one I currently
follow. My diary and lab notes, which you should possess by now, detail my
efforts to match my identity with yours. Other than a few select colleagues
scattered round the world, no one knew of this line of research. Put simply, I
set out to demonstrate that any individual’s unique molecular identity could be
altered to match anyone else’s. For this, a random subject was required.
To
avoid the spectre of connivance, I rejected as candidates anyone I knew. And
so, during my travels, I began searching for the perfect stranger who could be
my heir. I discovered you, among several others. Thereafter, as unobtrusively
as possible, I shadowed your life.
When I extrapolated my own demise
from the genetic makeover, I thought “So be it.” I was near the end of my span
anyway. And although I would dearly love to be recognized as more than a
talented dabbler in the field of biotechnology, I am wary of the potential of
my discovery. It could cause a paradigm shift of massive proportions. Yes, the
gene switching is fatal, but given enough time I believe I could have solved
that as well—as could others less scrupulous. The world must decide what to do
with this knowledge, which could do great good if used intelligently.
My
last and boldest experiment will take place shortly after I finish this
missive, when I take the capsule that triggers the transformation. I have
already arranged for an autopsy and exhaustive post-mortem tests to be performed,
and for the results to be forwarded to the relevant courts, various scientific
and medical associations, and genealogical societies. If you’ve received
enquiries from representatives of these esteemed bodies, I am certain they’ve
accepted my new genetic makeup.
Soon
enough, of course, the scientific community will know about my experiments, and
our counterfeit kinship will be postulated. But the terms of my final will and
testament are irrevocable; with no caveats, everything I own is yours. If I may
make one final request, though, it is that you keep and cherish my servants as
I did.
Ah,
the spirit lingers, and in such odd ways. Fare thee well, my beloved child.
Affectionately,
Arthur Hanover
Lucerne, Switzerland
