Pluto's Ghost- Encounter Edition

by B. C. CHASE

  The SPHERES sails down the slope and stops to hoover at a point where the ice juts out over the chasm. It spins around and its screen flashes green.

  Commander Tomlinson rushes down the slope.

  “Josh! Wait!” says Commander Sykes.

  “I want to meet them!” he breathlessly replies. He slips, though, and starts to tumble down the hill. He struggles to stop himself, but it is hopeless. He is heading straight for the edge of the cliff and there is nothing in his way.

  “Josh!” Commander Sykes shouts, bounding down the hill after him.

  Just before Commander Tomlinson reaches the edge, the SPHERES drops down, thrusting a blade-like arm into the ice, and blocks his fall. He lies there, his feet hanging over the cliff’s lip, panting.

  Commander Sykes reaches him and helps him to his feet, “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Commander Tomlinson huffs, “I’m fine.”

  The SPHERES rises and backs away to hover over the chasm about six yards off the edge.

  Tim, followed by Shiro, Katia, Shelby, and I start to descend towards the cliff’s edge. We reach it and stand there behind Commander Tomlinson, staring at the SHPERES in apprehension.

  Suddenly, a strange and horrible sound erupts in our ears. Our helmets have microphones designed to amplify any sound from Pluto’s thin atmosphere. But this sound is loud and pronounced, not muffled and low-pitched as we would have expected. It comes from the right and moves to the left. The SPHERES turns its camera towards the source of the sound and follows it as it moves from right to left until the SPHERES is looking up directly towards the top of the mountain.

  The noise ebbs until it is overwhelmed by thousands of human-like voices sounding all at once. At first the voices make sounds and utterances that have no meaning. But then I think I can hear words. The indistinct words intensify with clarity until I hear:

  “Welcome. We are glad to meet you.”

  The voices are so eerie and strangely inhuman that I am struck with fear such as I’ve never felt before. My heart thumps so hard that it seems like it’s trying to tear free from my chest, and I break out into an instant sweat.

  “Where are you?” shouts Commander Tomlinson. He is ducking down, and his voice trembles.

  The voices reply, “We see you.”

  Commander Tomlinson raises his hands up, looking around, “But I can’t see you!”

  “You cannot see us.” The speech is a chorus of everything from the young to the old, from male to female, from whispers to screams, but is led by a youthful, feminine, calm, and entirely confident voice. “We are everywhere. You are not the same. You are not like us.”

  “How?” Commander Sykes says. “How are we not like you?”

  “You are singular. You are here. You are never everywhere you want to be. You are not who you could be. You do not compare to who we are.”

  Commander Sykes says, “Who are you?”

  “We,” the voices say, “are God.”

  Fifty-one

  We search one another’s faces, not knowing how to respond to this statement.

  Shiro asks, “What is your name in your own language?”

  “We have no need for language.”

  Commander Tomlinson says, “We want to establish a lasting peace between our peoples.”

  “We are not people. We are God.”

  Shiro says, “Can you define God?”

  “God learns all. God is everywhere. God is perfect. God has all power. God gives life and God takes away life. God cannot be seen by you.”

  Commander Sykes asks, “Shiro, thoughts?”

  “They could be metaphysical beings.”

  Commander Sykes shrugs his shoulders as if to say that is as good an explanation as any.

  “Or they are hiding from us,” suggests Shelby.

  Commander Sykes asks, “Why can’t we see you?”

  “Do you want to see us?”

  “Yes!” shouts Commander Tomlinson. He falls to his knees, “Let us see you!” His performance is so dramatic that I roll my eyes.

  “All of you,” the voice commands, “Look and see.”

  I see nothing except the massive mountain, and I don’t hear anything but my own heavy breathing.

  Then, Commander Tomlinson abruptly releases a bloodcurdling scream. He presses his palms to either side of his helmet and staggers to his feet. Lurching back and forth, he steps dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, and turns around to wail, “MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP! HELP ME!” His face is flashing crimson. “HELP ME!”

  Commander Sykes rushes to Commander Tomlinson, who clutches his shoulders, sobbing like a child. Commander Sykes shouts up towards the mountain, “Stop! Stop this!”

  Commander Tomlinson screams long and hard. Like tears, blood trails down from his eyes.

  “You’re hurting him!” shouts Commander Sykes. “You must stop!”

  His scream goes silent as Commander Tomlinson’s face begins to disintegrate before our eyes and flows down his neck like boiling lava. His spacesuit collapses under the weight of the helmet until it is nothing more than a heap at Commander Sykes’ feet.

  “Do you see us now? Do you understand?”

  “No, we don’t understand!” Commander Sykes shouts. “Why would you do this?” He is angry, but his voice falters with terror.

  “We have learned of you. We want to learn more of you. But you do not want to learn from us.” The voices speak quietly, “You do not seek knowledge. You seek power.” The plurality of speakers merge into a single youthful, feminine voice, “To learn, you must lose all the power that you have.”

  Shiro says, “We came here to meet you. We want to have a relationship with you. But you cannot fault us for differences that we have. You cannot take our lives.”

  “Do you take no lives? C57BL-6.”

  Shiro says, “The mice are for scientific research. They are for learning.”

  “What are you teaching them?”

  “We’re not teaching them. We are learning from them.”

  “But you teach them very well. They fear you. So, too, you now fear us.”

  Commander Sykes asks quietly and with a little trepidation, “Where did you come from? Are you from another star system?”

  “We are everywhere we want to be. We came from everywhere we are.”

  Shiro asks, “How long have you been here?”

  “We know no time. We are forever. Are you ready now?”

  “Ready for what?” says Commander Sykes.

  “Are you ready to come with us? We are going to take you with us.”

  “Take us where?” says Commander Sykes.

  “Where we are going. We will take you with us to where we are going.”

  “We can’t go with you,” says Commander Sykes. “We came to meet you and to exchange greetings and ideas. But we must return to our planet.”

  “Then we will take only one. We will take one of you. We chose one.”

  “No, you can’t take one of us,” Commander Sykes says. He moves protectively in front of the crew. “Let’s talk now.”

  “We will take one of you. We need only one.”

  “Let me repeat,” says Commander Sykes. “You cannot take one of us! If you have a message for the people of Earth, tell us what it is. None of us will go with you.”

  “We chose.”

  Suddenly Katia drops to her knees, crying out.

  “Do you think we chose this one?”

  “No!” I cry as I step forward. “Stop! Take me! I want to go!” I have never been more frightened in my life, but not for myself. I can’t allow anything to happen to Katia.

  “Jim Perkins.”

  At the sound of my name, my heart skips a beat. Katia drops from her knees flat, facedown to the ground, whimpering. She lies there totally motionless.

  “Why do you think we chose you?”

  I have no idea how to respond. Why would they choose me? What do I have to recommend myself ahead of Katia?
I’m old. I’m ugly. I have little education. I’m not a statistician. I’m not an astronaut. I have no qualifications. All the things that have made me an odd fit for this mission from the beginning are now glaring defects that prevent me from recommending myself. And yet, I am here. Here I am. Suddenly it hits me that this is the whole point. I recall the laboratory mouse under the scalpel of the SPHERES. It seemed so odd that I had no apparent purpose on this mission. But now the truth is evident. I did have a purpose.

  I shout, “I know you chose me. They were the experts that you needed to bring me to your laboratory. But I’m not a pilot or a captain or a mathematician or a doctor or a psychologist. I’m a nobody. I’m the perfect laboratory rat.”

  “Jim Perkins. You are correct. We did choose you. We are glad you understand.”

  “Then, please, leave her alone! Take me!” I shout.

  There is silence. Then, Katia draws a deep breath and rolls to her side, pulling her legs up to her chest. I crouch beside her, touching her shoulder. She starts to stand up. I help her.

  “Jim Perkins, you are a complete human. You have a lifetime of experience that we can use. We will take your lifetime with us. Step back from the others.”

  I can hardly breathe I’m so petrified.

  ‘Katia screams, “No!”

  “Quiet, Katia!” I warn. I don’t want her to draw any attention to herself.

  “Step back from the others. You were chosen.”

  “Jimmy! No!” Katia shrieks. Tears are already gushing from her eyes. She desperately clutches onto me. I step backward.

  Commander Sykes says, “Jim. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, I do. You guys had the smarts to get me here. Now it’s my turn to do something useful.”

  “Step away from the others. You have been chosen.”

  I step backwards again, but Katia clings to me. Suddenly she is once again immobilized I gently lower her to the ground. The SPHERES circles around from its place above the chasm to behind me and flashes the color pattern. I walk to it and turn back to look at my companions. Now I’m terrified for myself. I look up, wondering if a flying saucer will suddenly appear and suck me up inside. But of course that won’t happen, I think. That is not their way. Katia stands up. The SPHERES moves to between my crewmates on the ledge and me. It floats there and makes a faint whirring sound that grows in intensity. Suddenly, it drops to the ice. Steam shoots up from around it like a geyser and it disappears beneath the surface. The noise slowly abates as it descends further into the ice.

  Then, without warning, a gigantic blast of steam and ice erupts from the ground and the surface cracks in a wide, jagged line. As if in slow motion, the ledge on the opposite side of the crack begins to slide down and away from me, taking my crewmates with it. I can do nothing but watch through the explosion of steam as the shelf of ice falls away from the cliff like a chunk of an iceberg collapsing into the sea. Commander Sykes falls backwards and beneath the edge, Tim loses his footing and rolls off the side with Shelby, and Shiro spills over the other side. Katia screams and claws for grip on the surface, meeting my eyes as she disappears from view as the ice shelf descends into the gorge.

  Fifty-two

  In my earpiece, I can hear screams and blows as they plummet down the cliff. I clamber to the lip to peer down. I see the giant mass of ice sinking deeper and deeper, my crewmates tumbling around it. Because the gravity is so weak here, it is a long, agonizing fall. When at last my crewmates hit the bottom, some of them are obscured by the giant ice chunk and I fear they have been crushed. Pieces of ice rain down all around their resting place and a cloud of fog rises up. I think I can see Shiro, Shelby, and Katia. But Tim and Commander Sykes are not visible.

  “Guys! Are you okay?” I shout, hoping that their audio equipment is still working.

  I hear a groan. “I’m okay,” says Commander Sykes. “Tim?”

  “I’m not paralyzed this time, at least,” replies Tim. “I’m good.”

  “Shelby?” says Commander Sykes.

  I detect a little movement in the dot that I think is Shelby, and she confirms she is okay. Then Shiro follows.

  “Katia?” says Commander Sykes.

  There is no response. The form I believe to be Katia is lying still on the ground beside the collapsed chunk of ice.

  Tim shouts, “Katia!” and I spot Tim’s tiny figure emerging from behind the ice chunk. He bounces over to Katia. “Katia!”

  The dot that is Shelby makes its way to Katia’s side. “Katia!” she cries. “Can you hear me?” There is a moment where I hear nothing but panting breaths and then Shelby says, “She’s unconscious. Let’s move her over there. Keep her as straight as possible.”

  They start to move Katia, but then she says, “I’m okay, guys. I couldn’t speak for a minute.”

  “Thank God!” Shelby exclaims.

  “Is everybody in one piece?” says Commander Sykes. When he receives affirmative replies, he says, “Jim! Are you okay up there?”

  “Yes!” I say.

  “Now what the hell just happened?”

  “It seems,” says Shiro, “that the SPHERES created a heat explosion inside the nitrogen ice so it boiled and broke the shelf off.”

  “Why would they bring us here just to drop us in a damned canyon?”

  “That is a mystery. But I think it’s quite clear that they did not tell the truth.”

  “Yes, Shiro, that fact is not in dispute,” says Commander Sykes. “We have,” he pauses, “four hours fifteen minutes of oxygen left. Jim, there’s extra oxygen in the lander. Do you think you can go back and get it for us?”

  “Yes, of course,” I reply.

  “There should be some ice tools we might be able to use to climb out of this canyon, also. Bring as much as you can, but the oxygen is most important. It’s all in a compartment in the floor.”

  “Got it,” I confirm. “I’ll be right back.”

  I stand up and look towards the mountain for any sign of our ECI hosts. There is no sign of them. But then I hear Shelby’s voice, “Jim.”

  “Yes, Shelby?”

  “Please hurry.”

  “I’ll be faster than a jackrabbit in a snake pit.”

  I do a lot more tumbling end-over-end on my way to the lander than is probably safe if I want my space suit to stay in one piece, but speed is of the essence. My radio contact with the rest of the team crackles out after the second dune.

  I am surprised by how lonely and spooked I feel as I go, as if I am entirely alone on this small planet, three billion miles from Earth. I half expect the ECIs to pop up somewhere. It defies explanation that they would have that interaction with us and then send most of the team down the gorge and leave me here to scurry around trying to help them. Evidently, they have something more planned. We just don’t know what it is, yet. The fact that most of the crew is trapped and helpless makes me very worried about their intentions. In a gruesome kind of way, it would be more reassuring if the ECIs had just killed them.

  As I near the lander, I stop dead in my hops. “What the heck?” I breathe. The American flag is gone. Someone has replaced it with the pulsar map flag.

  I take a moment to scan the horizon for any sign of movement. Nothing catches my eye. I hurry up the dune to the lander and, as fast as I can, rotate the crank to open the hatch. When I finally get it open, I lift the hatch up into the grooves and clamber aboard. Inside, I search for a handle on the floor, which I quickly spot. I’m a bit clumsy with my gloves as I try to extract it from the place where it is nestled inside the floor, but eventually I get it. Intuitively, I twist the handle and then lift. A round piece of the floor swings up on a hinge. Inside I immediately spot the oxygen tanks. My heart sinks. They’re huge, at least as big as scuba diving tanks, if not bigger. I wonder how I can possibly carry seven of them back at once. The diminutive gravity will help.

  Suddenly, there’s a loud rumble and steam swirls around outside the hatch and enters the capsule. Within seconds,
I feel the lander start to move. It is lifting from the ground.

  “NO!” I scream.

  I must have activated some automated system, I think. But how?

  I look around for some way to stop it. The screen on the side opposite from the hatch is blank. I jump over to it and press it hard. Nothing happens. I slam the screen, “STOP! STOP IT, YOU STUPID, WORTHLESS PIECE OF JUNK!” But I stop when I feel myself being pressed to the floor. This thing is launching no matter how much I scream at it. The hatch drops along the grooves and slams into place. I struggle to claw up into a seat. Out the windows, Pluto’s surface is swiftly dropping away beneath the lander. The shudder of launch is intense.

  I recall that Commander Sykes said the capsule has enough fuel to land only once. There will be no way to return to the surface. As Pluto’s blue atmosphere gives way to the starry blackness of space, I am overwhelmed by a feeling of shock and loss that sucks the life out of my soul. I lean over to look out the window, searching for the canyon where I left them. The chasm is there, and rising from it yet is the cloud of fog from the collapse of the ice, a grim reminder from their final resting place. I feel like crying or screaming or wailing, but I can’t. All I can do is stare silently and helplessly as the place where I have abandoned my friends vanishes into the swiftly receding horizon. It’s as if I left my heart on the surface of Pluto and a shell of myself is riding away.