Above A Whisper (Whispers of A Planet Book 2)

by Sean Clark

  “Hmm.” Alika hums optimistically. “The last few times I asked, I hardly got a response. It seems you didn’t want me doting on you. I just figured if you wanted to tell me, you would have. I’ll be happy to hear you out whenever you’re ready.” Alika’s eyes remain fixed paper, now turned to the back page, studying the drinks listed.

  Cecil opens his mouth so as to speak, but the words get caught in his throat. The voice of the waitress interrupts his thought. “Is there anything I can start you fellas off with?”

  The girl’s voice echoes in his head, almost the same as he had heard somewhere before. The voice is reminiscent of the medical bay on Mars, where he had been cooped up for so long. He can recall the seemingly omnipresent voice of the nurse. Maria was her name. The had always seemingly been there, at Cecil’s side. She was there before he was sent home, too. Her face was an enigma, a blank spot in his memory. But her voice, the feel of her hands on his wounds, they were all there.

  “And for you?” The waitress turns to Cecil.

  His train of thought is broken. “Uhh, the same.” Cecil looks up at the waitress who presented a happy smile, jotting down the order.

  “Okay, those will be right out for you.” She grabs the menus and skips away, dancing between the tables. Cecil’s eyes follow her, but he catches Alika’s piercing gaze out of the corner of his eye. Cecil turns back towards him.

  “See something you like?” Alika smiles at him.

  “No.” Cecil’s face turns to a grimace. “I’m too… messed up for thoughts like those.”

  “No, you’re not.” Alika laughs lightly. “She’s a pretty girl, and you’re having a normal human reaction. It’s called infatuation.” Alika drums on the table lightly.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Cecil glares at him, and Alika stops mid solo. “Her voice sounded familiar to me, in a creepy sort of way.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Alika asks, looking at him quizzically.

  “Back at the medical bay there on Mars… there was this nurse. You know when I woke up after my accident, the world was no longer there. It was just a blur of grey with a hint of light here and there. My face was on fire, and I was breathing through a tube. I lashed out with what little strength I could muster up at the time. I probably scared the crap out of her. She screamed. They had to tie me down afterwards to keep me from hurting myself, hurting the nurses.

  They pulled out the breathing tube. The whole time I was fighting it. I tried to attack her again, and I know I probably scratched her pretty good. Her voice however… is how I finally came back to my senses. It was calming. I felt terrible for attacking her. She stayed by my side though, and helped me get back on my feet there. Eventually, she was the one who took notice of my tumor. I’m grateful for her, in more ways than one.”

  “Did you get her name? Maybe her number? Well… that one might be a stretch.” Alika jokes.

  “Maria.” Cecil mutters, plainly. Alika’s face twists up, pursing his lips together, remaining silent. Finally taking a deep breath, he speaks up once again.

  “Is that it? Plenty of people get attached to their caretakers… they’re vulnerable and when they get shown affection, they can latch on. I’ve studied it a bit.”

  “No. There’s something else deep down inside, that keeps bringing back there. There’s something wrong with me, and it’s because of that planet and the damn space agency.” Cecil’s voice raises. “The psychiatrist basically kicked me out and told me to find someone else because he couldn’t do anything for me with his limited knowledge.”

  Alika looks back and forth, out at the dining room. A few of the fellow patrons near the booth exchange glances. “So, what do you plan to do with that?” He asks.

  “I don’t know. I can’t sleep at night. I don’t dream. None of the meds I was given help either.” Cecil leans into the table and speaks at Alika, his eyes focused. “I wake up, and I’m just as exhausted as when I went to lay down in bed. Griogair told me of someone who deals with sleep disorders. I think that’s my last hope to be… normal again.”

  “Do you think it’s effects from the tumor, or maybe the surgery hit something? Maybe they didn’t get out all of the tissue?”

  “It’s more than that.” Cecil shakes his head. “I’ve never told anyone this, outside the people back there on Mars. I heard a voice. It talked to me, I communicated with it. To me, it was one hundred percent real.”

  “Okay, what did, um… you talk about?” Alika rests his elbows on the table, looking at Cecil awkwardly.

  “She was simply inquisitive. She wanted to know why we were there, how we operated as humans, how our society works.” Cecil begins speaking under his breath.

  “And do you think the voice was because of the tumor?” Alika tilts his head.

  “I don’t know.” Cecil stares unblinkingly down at the table. “It started happening after my accident. Before I heard the voice, I could feel it, like it was a part of the planet. It came from the pool that I fell into.”

  “So, like some sort of naturally occurring AI? Not like an alien lifeform? Do you still hear it? What did the others say… did they look into it?”

  There is a loud clattering of plates as the waitress pulls up beside the table with trays full of food. Cecil and Alika drop eye contact and lean backwards into the seat silently. Cecil makes a subtle smile at the girl as she places the almost identical plates side by side on the table- club sandwiches, complete with what looked like home-made fries and a large pickle that had been cut in half. A small, wrinkly green pepper adorns the top of the sandwich, skewered by a decorative toothpick.

  Cecil and Alika look at each other silently. “Enjoy.” The waitress smiles back, awkwardly retreating from the table. The two peer down at their food, then at each other in the eye.

  “So being frozen, thawed out, being almost burned alive, and living through a coma made you a little bit crazy. At that point, who wouldn’t be?” Alika nudges Cecil’s feet underneath the table. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”

  Cecil gives a weak laugh, and starts to unfold his napkin. His eyes dropped from Alika’s view, and he feels his heart sink. Cecil daintily picks up one section of his sandwich, which had been cut into neat triangles on the plate. Pulling out the toothpick, he brings the pickled pepper to his mouth.

  Chapter 6

  The air was humid. Cecil could feel the station buzzing around him. He ran his hands through the luscious greenery that grew out of the suspended troughs. The air felt clean and refreshing, different than the regular atmosphere in the station. The plants were there, pulling carbon out of the air, and taking strain off the mechanical filtering system. There is a limit to what technology and machinery could do, especially in this sense. Photosynthesis was no exception.

  “I don’t know about this stuff.” Cecil said to himself.

  The path was tiny, as if they spared no square meter that could be used to plant more foliage. In the background, he could hear the trickle of water. It was serene. No, he was here for work. There was just a water pump to be fixed.

  Behind a large plastic partition, Cecil spotted someone in their yellow coveralls, working the ‘fields’, if that were the appropriate term. They held vegetables, but they weren’t like the ones on Earth. The difference in gravity was causing issues with them absorbing nutrients in the same way.

  Pulling back the plastic flap, the botanist noticed him and stood up to wave. Cecil waved back, spare part in hand. The path was wet and slightly slippery. The foliage was less dense here. Under the arched structure here, plants were sorted by type and how they grew. There were tiers of waterways, supporting the root systems and giving them nutrients that had been dissolved into the water. The botanist pushed past a draping tomato plant, partially filled up with fruit beginning to show signs of color. They started to approach him.

  “I have the part you need.” Cecil called out.

  “Ah yes, the spinny thing for the pump.” The man’s voice wa
s muffled from behind the mask. “We have almost a whole quadrant without water.”

  “Yes, the impeller. Show me where you need it.” Cecil approached the man. He almost seemed alien, covered head to toe in a green polyester coveralls.

  A few red shiny tomatoes caught Cecil’s eye. His stomach rumbled a bit. It had been so long since he had some real, fresh food. He missed his mother’s salsa, made with ingredients made from her planters on the balcony. Whenever he was home on leave in the past, she would make him some, along with stuffed peppers. Going on leave wasn’t an option here.

  The man got his attention again. Along the wall of the structure was a shed, which produced a loud hum. Inside was a series of pumps and meters. Cecil could hear the sound of them pushing water through the system. One valve stood out, sitting in the closed position. The man patted Cecil on the back and walked out the doorway. Cecil went to work.

  After about twenty minutes, Cecil had already become soaked. His fingers were sore, but he was finally putting the last bit of tubing back in. Footsteps and the grating of polyester against itself approached through the doorway. Cecil turned around.

  The same botanist from before looked down on him. At least, it seemed like the same person. Cecil turned back to the pumps, and twisted the valve open. The pump roared to life, freshly tuned impeller tearing through the water. Fluid began flowing again.

  With a rustle, the gardener pulled at his collar, and untucked the mask from the rest of the coveralls. It revealed his tanned skin, slick with a fine layer of sweat. He shook his head. “Hola.” He spoke to Cecil.

  “Hey. It’s all done.” Cecil rose up from his knees. They were a little bit stiff.

  “Thank you.” The man spoke with a slight accent. “We would have been out of business without you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Cecil said, fiddling with his tools.

  “How well do you handle spice, amigo?” He stood in the door, still looking at Cecil.

  “About as well as anybody.” Cecil finished putting his tools away into his belt, turning to look up at the gardener.

  The man produced a bright green serrano from behind his back. Cecil’s mouth began to water involuntarily. His eyes darted between the pepper and the man’s face. “Take it.” The man said, offering the pepper out of his hand to Cecil.

  The faint pungent smell reached Cecil’s nostrils. He brought it to his mouth. The waxy surface made contact with his teeth, where he hesitated for a second before biting in. The capsaicin entered his mouth. It was warming, but the flavor was still dull. He chewed it down, and pulled the uneaten stem from his mouth.

  “It’s 100% organic.” The botanist laughed.

  “It’s not bad… plenty spicy. The food here is so dull… I miss proper seasoning. Thank you.” Cecil said, throwing the stem down on the ground.

  “No problemo. It seems we had a stowaway with the tomato seeds… had a pepper plant come up in one the germination cups. I can’t complain though.” He laughed heartily.

  Chapter 7

  Cecil had absentmindedly bit down into the pepperoncini that had been adorning the sandwich. It pops lightly and vinegar drips down onto his lips. The pepper is tangy and has a slight bite. A napkin is jutted forcefully his way.

  Cecil looks up from his daydream to Alika, his hand reached out in offering. Cecil grabs the paper and raises it to his mouth, looking down at Alika’s plate which is mostly bare. There is still half and a few bites left of Cecil’s sandwich.

  “Not hungry?” Alika plays with a stubby fry on his plate, dragging it through a smear of ketchup. “Perhaps you are full on thoughts alone?” His eyes peer into Cecil’s.

  “This isn’t funny.” Says Cecil, wrapping his fingers around the napkin tightly. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see people’s looks jut his way before quickly darting away. “You know… after I had my injury, I was told I was gonna’ get shipped back to Earth where I could have a normal life again. ‘Again’, they said. Now that I’m here, there’s no shred of my previous life. I’m starting to believe I never had a normal life here at all.”

  “What do you consider normal, Cecil?” Alika crumples his own napkin in his hand, the playfulness draining from his face.

  “The last time I would say I was living a normal life was during my childhood.” Cecil taps his finger nervously. “Even then, I was being raised by a single mother while my dad was in prison. Every kid in my class seemed to know about it. It was something big in our community after all. I just kept my head down and tried to ignore it all. I was fresh out of High School when I joined the Navy and I left the civilian life for the first time. I knew I couldn’t afford college then, but the Navy was eventually going to allow me that. It wasn’t until I went on leave many months later that I learned that I had changed. Before anything else was basic training… it strips you of your personality. I eventually stopped going on leave, and if so… only to go see my mother. Then that opportunity arrived, and I felt like I made it. I got to leave this planet.

  Being up there on Mars was my escape, Alika. Since my childhood, I’ve been running away. Mars was my way of finally distancing myself from the world. I know now I shouldn’t have come back.” Cecil raises his voice. “I should have died up there. There is no place for me down here on Earth, a freak!” Cecil shouts. Across the restaurant, eyes are averted from the table. Alika looks around nervously, trying to grab at Cecil’s flailing hands.

  “Cecil, stop.” He whispers loudly.

  “Do you see these scars on my face… marking me for everyone to see? I see it in their eyes. ‘What a pity.’ I hear them say. I’m damaged, broken!” Cecil slams his fists on the table. The silverware jumps up and clatters back down on the placemat with a loud metallic bang. The top piece of bread from his sandwich topples off to the side.

  Alika looks over to the young server, off to the side, staring and refusing to move. He pulls out his wallet and promptly drops a twenty on the table, moving to the other side of the booth to pull Cecil out.

  Stiffly, Cecil stands up with him. Keeping his head down, he avoids the stares as they walk by. Alika takes short, quick steps to drag him along. The door chime rings once again as the duo exit. Alika’s car beeps with a press of the keychain, unlocking the doors. Cecil walks himself to the side of the car and opens the door to plop himself into the seat.

  Alika closes the door behind him, and goes around to the driver’s side, getting in. Cecil is leaned forward, banging his head repeatedly against the glove compartment. Coming to a rest, he turns towards Alika. “I need help, don’t I?” Tears well up in his eyes.

  “I can’t answer that for you. That’s something you have to tell yourself.”

  “I’m going to get help.” Cecil pushes up his glasses to rub his eyes.

  “That’s what I hoped you would say. For now… let’s go home.”

  Chapter 8

  It had been a long, agonizing week since Cecil had called. ‘Sleep Therapy’ they called themselves. As soon as Cecil mentioned Griogair, the doctor on the line filled him in for an appointment. According to him, Cecil wouldn’t be allowed to sleep the night before so that they could study his sleep naturally the next day in the ‘lab’. The term rolled around in his mind, as butterflies stirred up his stomach. Tomorrow would be the day.

  A knock arrives at the apartment door. Cecil arises from his chair and answers it. Alika is standing on the veranda, holding a stack of DVDs and a deck of cards, sporting a pair of baggy sweat pants, and a sweatshirt. A floppy backpack hangs from his shoulders.

  “Evening. Here’s a bunch of movies you’ve probably missed over the years.” He says, passing the DVD cases to Cecil. Cecil shuffles them in his hands, shifting out of the doorway to let Alika inside.

  Alika pulls his backpack off, and goes to sit down in front of Cecil’s TV. From his backpack, he pulls out a big boxy DVD player and moves behind the TV set to start fiddling with the wires.

  Cecil looks up from the various DVD boxes, none of which
he could recognize. Aside from a ratty couch and Alika splayed out on the floor, his tiny living room is bare. Alika tosses Cecil a long remote full of buttons, and stands up, passing him on his way to the kitchen.

  “I’ll trust you to pick out a movie and set it up. It shouldn’t be too hard for you huh, Mr. Engineer. I’m going to make some coffee.” Alika nods, playing with the string on his pants.

  Managing to pull the DVD menu up, the distracting music begins playing in the background. He sits down on the floor, leaned up against the couch. The rumble and gurgling of the coffee maker comes from the kitchen, and the smell wafted out. Shortly, Alika comes out holding a steaming mug.

  A few movies later, Cecil had long since lost focus on the screen. His eyes hurt from the bright light. Alika remains laid out on the couch, head rolled back against the pillow, exhausted after his numerous attempts to explain various scenes to Cecil. Credits begin to roll down the screen, eventually disappearing into blackness.

  Cecil stares at Alika’s sleeping face. When they had met, Alika had been a shy grad student working on the base trying to get interviews for his thesis. He had been a psychology student, specifically the effects of space travel on the human mind. Cecil was still in the hospital when Alika first visited, insistent on getting information out of him.

  Cecil immediately pushed him away, wanting no contact. Cecil was eventually cleared to leave the hospital, but in order to get housing off base, he was required to have some sort of caretaker to check up on him while living alone. Alika was the first to volunteer. That first meeting, rather than pestering him, Alika made sure his apartment was fit for him, even driving him to the store to buy food.

  Sometime later, after many visits, Cecil opened up to him, but Alika just listened without taking notes or trying to add in his own thoughts. Cecil couldn’t remember when it had happened, but Alika had become a friend.

  Cecil notices the morning light beginning to drift through the window shades. Stiffly, he stands up to stretch, and Alika stirs, turning to push his face into the cushions of the couch. Quietly, Cecil slides open the shades and lets the pale light flow in. The sky is orange and red, fading into black. It reminds him of Mars, except inverted.