Love On Mars

by Iván Hernández (actualmente retirado)

  “My family doesn’t condescend to put truth on the walls. They prefer to live on memories of Earth. Greens, blues...fallacies to try to live on. That’s why I have to keep them here - although I’m running out of space. I’m afraid my next exhibition will have to be open-air.

  As he finished speaking, a gale-force wind battered the shelter, and the walls and ground shook. Mary got a fright.

  “What’s that?”

  “The storm... Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  A little later, Andrew served a cup of hot coffee to Mary, looking nervous with the roar of the wind ringing in her ears. She brought her lips to the edge of the cup and sipped.

  “This is not coffee,” said Mary, making a strange face.

  “If I had told you what it was, you wouldn’t even have tried it. By the fifth cup, you’ll be used to it.”

  Mary shrugged her shoulders slightly and drank a little more.

  “Why are we speaking in such a stilted way?” he asked.

  “Out of respect, I suppose.”

  “I’m half naked, sweaty and it stinks in here. If it’s because I’m a Stafford, I’ll consider your respect an insult.”

  Mary frowned as she began to smile.

  “Okay, Andrew, I’ll never speak to you respectfully again.”

  “Much better. Formalities for the formal people,” he laughed.

  “Tell me: what happened?” asked Mary, pointing towards a picture full of white crosses.

  “That was the consequence – as you see it there. All dead. The origin has been hidden because, if it had been made public, the media on Earth would have given such negative publicity to this place that none of you would have dared come...to die.”

  “To die? No, no...I haven’t come here to die.”

  “I don’t suppose anybody takes on such a long journey for that. But, sooner or later, it may happen again.”

  “But what?”

  “You hear the storm, don’t you? It’s banging on the door – it wants to come in. And it’s not alone.”

  “You’re frightening me.”

  “You should be frightened, Mary. Very frightened.”

  Suddenly, an intercom showed an incoming call. Andrew went over to it and answered it.

  “Who is it?” Andrew made a face at Mary when he knew who it was. “Relax, relax – yes, I’ve seen her. Well, I think we’re talking about the same person. Green eyes, or grey – I’m not sure. Hey, what colour are your eyes?”

  “I think they’re blue.”

  “She thinks they’re blue. No, James says they’re green. Okay, if I say they’re grey, we’ve got a triple stalemate. Let’s see: Mary, can you stand up?”

  Mary did so, feeling his eyes on her.

  “Yes, without a doubt: she’s got very nice curves just as you say,” nodded Andrew. “Of course she can hear me. Lots of beard and bravado but you’re still just an embarrassed kid, James.”

  “Tell him about his car,” whispered Mary, worried.

  “Oh, yes! James, I have something very sad to tell you. Your car...is dead.”

  You could cut the silence.

  “But yes, she’s all right. Are you all right?”

  Mary nodded, rubbing her shoulders, taking small steps across the floor of the igloo.

  “Ah, one thing: Mary insists on knowing more about the accident. I could tell her my version... What do you mean what version? The one where the Stafford family committed a horrible crime letting all those people die for simple greed.”

  Shouts could be heard on the other end of the line.

  “Yes, yes, I know that you don’t like my version; you prefer the one about the unavoidable accident. But artists just like to overstep boundaries like that. Don’t shout at me: you’re going to make me deaf.”

  James seemed to calm down. Andrew agreed with gestures and few words.

  “Okay, all right. So we’ll do that then. Perfect. See you later, James.”

  Andrew hung up. From his expressionless face, you couldn’t tell that anything had happened.

  “So?” she asked: “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  Andrew shook his head.

  “But why? Did he threaten you or something?”

  “That doesn’t work with me... He simply bribed me,” he explained with a smile.

  “How?”

  “New brushes, canvases and paints. If I’d held out more, I could probably have got a new, bigger studio, but... I’m not good at being the hard man. Really,” he whispered in her ear, “James isn’t either – even though he thinks he is.”

  “He seems a very serious man.”

  “He’s only thirty. I wouldn’t even call him a man.”

  “I’d have thought he was older.”

  “You’re fooled by the wrinkles around his eyes, are you? Well, you’re fooled and attracted by them.”

  Mary blushed. Andrew realised.

  “Nice cheek colour. I’d paint you but I’ve got chronic tendonitis, and I love my hands more than any woman – no matter how beautiful.”

  The fingers of Andrew’s right hand danced in the air while he loosened them up as Mary smiled.

  “Mary, I think James likes you – a lot,” he announced.

  “What? That’s impossible. We’ve barely met...”

  “The tone of his voice when he was asking about you and how you were sounded like the voice of someone who’s truly worried about the other person. He relaxed a lot when I told him you were with me.”

  “Really?” she asked, trying to suppress her emotions.

  Andrew sighed, sipping his coffee.

  “This is disgusting,” said Andrew, pushing away his cup.

  Mary laughed out loud.

  “Why did you offer it to me then?” she asked, frowning.

  “When the storm passes, we’ll go to the canteen and I’ll compensate you.”

  “To the canteen? I think a friend of mine is going to work there.”

  “Poor thing.”

  “Why?”

  “Is she pretty?”

  “Yes, I suppose so...”

  “Poor thing.”

  Chapter 14

  James looked out the window, watching how night took over the sky. Phobos and Deimos were at the height of their nocturnal dance.

  “Miss Dickinson, you may go back to your lodgings if you like,” said James. “It’s late.”

  Angie got up from the desk where she was pretending to work and came over to the window.

  “What are they? Moons?” she asked, trying to seem interested although she really barely looked at them.

  “Something like that: two satellites. They’re small.”

  “You know so much, Mr Stafford!”

  James looked at her in surprise.

  “Since I got here, I’ve felt so protected by your advice and all the unselfish help you’ve given me to make my first day on Mars a special one.”

  “Really? We’ve only known each other a few hours.”

  “It seems like only minutes to me. I’ve always dreamt of having a boss like you.”

  James had a feeling where Angie was heading.

  “I should tell you a secret, Miss Dickinson.”

  “Go ahead: it’ll be a pleasure hearing it from your lips.”

  “You’re not here because of your talent.”

  Angie was a little irritated by the way James said those words.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not calling you stupid. But if we had assessed your skills fairly, you might not have been contemplating the night with me right now.”

  “I don’t mind. And I mean that. I’m delighted to be here – at your side.”

  Angie came closer until her breast almost touched off James’ right shoulder.

  “I know the beginning, middle and end of this story,” James explained in few words. “And you? Do you know it?”

  “I’ve always liked unexpected twists. What about you?”

  Angie moved a little closer, reaching h
er hand out to James’ chest.

  “The Martian night excites me, Mr Stafford. It’s so...romantic, isn’t it?”

  James knew exactly how many steps it was from the office to his bed. He knew how many times he should kiss her, when to unfasten her bra, how to caress her under the sheets and how many times to make love. But it was just that: love, which he felt he couldn’t make.

  Then he moved away from her.

  “Don’t get it wrong, Miss Dickinson. Take advantage of the opportunity I’ve given you – even if it was a mistake.”

  Miss Dickinson stood paralysed, and a meaner side of her appeared.

  “A mistake? No, Mr Stafford, sooner or later, you’ll see that I’m no mistake. No matter how hard you try, you won’t find anyone like me,” she announced in an arrogant tone.

  These words surprised James, who stretched his neck before replying:

  “Is this what you were referring to when you spoke of unexpected twists?”

  Angie didn’t answer but left the office swaying her hips. As soon as she had left, someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” said James, looking back out at the night.

  “I don’t believe it...”

  “Claudia... it’s you. Still awake? Have the pills run out, or have you decided to give them up at last?”

  “They’re my only solace, but don’t change the subject. You threw your new secretary out of your office. Wait...”

  Claudia went into James’ bedroom.

  “The bed’s still made – incredible. I don’t recognise you.”

  James smiled.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking for fresh lipstick on her brother’s lips or neck.

  “Nothing.”

  “James Stafford, you’re a-woman-a-night kind of man – or even two a night. You’re not the kind that stares nostalgically out windows.”

  James seemed absorbed.

  “Hey, hey. What’s wrong? Seriously, it’s not normal for you to be acting like this. Do you want me to call a doctor? Or better still: a nurse?”

  “You’re so funny. You should have been a comedian.”

  “You can’t hide from the truth. I’ll get it out of you sooner or later. Your eyes are giving you away – something I’ve never seen in you before.”

  James tried to get out of it.

  “I’m tired. The reception, showing all the outbuildings, the greenhouses...I’ve never been good at all that stuff. That’s all.”

  “That’s all? Hah!”

  James rubbed his eyes, pretending to be tired.

  “Come on: out with it! Let’s see, from what I remember, today you’ve only been with two women: the one that you just threw out and... what’s her name?”

  “Ackerson... Mary Ackerson.”

  “That’s it!”

  Then Claudia ran over to turn on the holographic computer and searched in the database. It wasn’t long before a full-length Mary Ackerson was floating digitally over the desk in the office.

  Claudia looked at the young woman with surprise but closely.

  “She’s not your type at all...”

  With his back to her, James looked at Mary’s body reflected in the window.

  “Of course, that’s good,” clarified Claudia.

  “Good? What’s good?” he asked with curiosity.

  “That she’s so different to the others. The truth is that she’s a little wide around the hips, isn’t she? You usually go for much thinner women. But look at her beautiful eyes. What colour are they?”

  “There are different opinions in that regard,” he murmured.

  “I think they’re blue. She’s pretty – really pretty. And what beautiful hair. It reminds me of Mount Olympus erupting.”

  James’ eyes opened as wide as saucers: he was shaken by the similarity between his own thoughts and those of his sister.

  “Have you fallen in love with her?” she asked him, without beating about the bush.

  “I wouldn’t like to fall in love,” he confessed after a pause.

  “But why not?”

  “It just brings problems.”

  “Life is nothing without problems, James.”

  “Take a look at you, Claudia.”

  “You always use me as an example when you want to deny reality, James. Your heart beats, you know? And mine too! And my tears are the proof that I’m still alive even though he’s dead!”

  “Relax... I didn’t mean to...”

  “Relax – no! I’m fed-up. I’m tired of you all gossiping about me being crazy because I was in love once! Well, do you know what? I still am!”

  “You’ve made yourself ill, Claudia – we just want to help you.”

  “Father and mother want me to forget all about it. That’s why they stuff me with pills and useless treatments. My mind may forget but my heart won’t – and much less my soul because it’s with him wherever he is.”

  “Robin is...”

  “...dead. I’m perfectly aware of that. But that doesn’t change anything for me. James, don’t you understand that, although I’m unfortunate because he’s not at my side, I’m so lucky because I know that we truly loved each other? You’ve never had that – it’s a treasure that very few ever find – and now that you have the chance to open the treasure-chest, you’re fighting your feelings because you’re afraid that it might hurt.”

  James couldn’t argue. Claudia, crying as she hadn’t cried for some time, left the room – but not without saying something that sent a shiver through James:

  “A man who lives without love – that’s really a dead man.”

  Chapter 15

  “Here it is,” said Andrew.

  “It’s so freezing out there!” exclaimed Mary, coming into the canteen.

  They didn’t take long to get out of their suits.

  “This is really full,” she noticed.

  “That’s normal. First day on Mars: you have to celebrate it. I hope the kitchen is open.”

  “Me too. I could eat a horse.”

  The strange couple looked for somewhere to sit. In fact, they waited for two drunks to leave their table, leaving a trail of vomit as if it were snail slime. Andrew noticed that Mary had no qualms about sitting in their smelly seats.

  “Is there a menu here? Or do you already know what there is?”

  “God knows where the menu is or if there ever was one. The traditional method works best: Waitress!”

  Andrew called out and, after a few more attempts, a new girl noticed and came up to them. On the way, she pushed aside the hands and lips of men trying to brush off her body.

  “Get back, vermin, if you don’t want me to break the last bottle of whiskey and cut your throats with it!” threatened the waitress.

  “Gwyneth?” asked Mary, completely dumbstruck.

  “Mary? Mary!” she exclaimed, surprised to see her friend.

  They hugged each other warmly.

  “You stink of sweat,” said Gwyneth, pushing her away.

  “The suit – you know. Of course, you don’t smell like spring flowers either.”

  Gwyneth sniffed herself quickly and shrugged her shoulders.

  “You’ve got company...” noticed Gwyneth.

  “Oh, yes: this is Andrew – Andrew Stafford.”

  “What? From the family?”

  Andrew raised his hand.

  “Let’s not get into unpleasant details. Delighted. Have you got something to appease our hunger?”

  Gwyneth pushed away a man’s hand that was heading towards her bum.

  “Keep your hands to yourself, Edwin!” she shouted at him. “I don’t care what age you are, you’re not entitled to call me your little girl!”

  The old man moved away. Soon, others tried their luck but they only got well-aimed punches, insults or more yells from Gwyneth.

  “I hardly recognise you,” Mary said to her.

  “Neither do I, neither do I...” explained Gwyneth in a low voice. “But don’t let them know or it’ll be
the end of me. Leroy, don’t dare jump over the bar or I’ll rip your tongue out!”

  Mary laughed under her breath at Gwyneth’s nerve when faced with all these men made wild by alcohol and the lack of an intimate relationship.

  “Well, let’s see,” said Gwyneth thinking. “We’ve got soup made from something like fish, and a strange orange-coloured steak with a garnish of something even stranger that looks a bit like a mauve tomato?”

  Mary looked doubtfully at Andrew.

  “It’s all good,” mumbled Andrew. “Bring two of each, please.”

  “Okay, it’ll be ready in an hour or so.”

  “An hour?” asked Mary.

  Gwyneth nodded and left without further explanation. When she got to the bar, she threw her apron over to the other side of it and called the order to the kitchen.

  “Boys!” she warned her drunken public. “I’m taking a ten-minute break! That means that nobody is to come near me looking for a kiss during that time!”

  They all got sad.

  “Come on!” she said to cheer them up. “If you behave well, later I’ll give one to whoever’s breath smells least!”

  They all cheered.

  Gwyneth walked over to Mary and Andrew’s table, and sat down with them, pushing a sleeping drunk off the seat.

  “Relax, Mary, don’t look at me like that: I’m not going to kiss those pigs. They’ll have forgotten all about it in a while. I’ve been saying the same thing all afternoon... Well, and what brings you here?”

  “I’ve no food at home,” explained Andrew. “And I knew that this would be full of life after the arrival of the new colonists. I hate family suppers.”

  “Do you mean having supper at the Stafford mansion?” asked Gwyneth. “I wouldn’t hesitate for an instant.”

  “It’s much more fun and inspiring to see all of this in turmoil again,” nodded Andrew.

  “Sincerely, Andrew, I don’t have a clue how to keep them under control,” said Gwyneth fearfully. “Aren’t there any police on Mars?”

  “Well, I think that out of all those who have arrived, a good lot of them will take care of security, firemen, health services... It’s like creating society from scratch.”

  “More like rebuilding it,” pointed out Mary.

  “Why do you say that?” asked Gwyneth curiously.

  “Andrew won’t tell me why but I’ll tell you that the last group of colonists...”