by Sean Clark
Mother of Mars
By Sean Clark
Second Edition; Kindle Version
Dedicated to all my coworkers who asked when this was going to come out.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Ripples
Mother
Blank
The Price of Deciding
Cassius
Letter from Earth
Rebuilding
Vacuum
Manpower
Contact
Interest
Movement
Vibrations
Mother
Self
The Answer
The Other Side
Depths
Coldness
The Weight
Epilogue
Ripples
“I can’t see anything.” He complains, scanning the same dull looking landscape as he had been doing for the last ten minutes. The engine of the rover rumbles, sending vibrations into the seat. Above them, the brow sky diffuses the pale sunlight, sending a glare through his helmet’s visor.
“Something has to stand out.”
“I’m telling you, everything just looks the same.”
“You don’t get out much, do you Cecil?” The driver looks back over his shoulder.
“Quit bickering.” The third man buts in. “This isn’t I Spy. We’re not going to pick a winner.” The other two turn their heads away from each other.
“Agrippa, how do we know what we’re looking for?” Cecil peers forward over the seat in front of him.
“This is the area with the heat signature… volcanic activity most likely.” Agrippa taps the screen of his instrument. “The satellite recorded some images when it made a secondary pass. We were able to spot what we think are lava tubes in the region that may lead us down into the crust.”
“I can feel it, we’re close.” The second man speaks up, his suit bobbing up and down in the driver’s seat.
“What makes you so sure, Markus?” Cecil rebuts.
“You’re getting warmer now fellas, keep your eyes open.” The voice from station control crackles in their ears, transmitting over the long-distance channel not seconds later.
“Hear that? My instincts are always right.” Markus says assuredly.
“Lucky guess.” Cecil scoffs back.
“Can the nonsense. Head north-northwest. There’s something on my maps here.” Agrippa grumbles.
“Roger that, old man.” Markus replies, engaging the throttle.
The rover bumps along the red, rocky terrain. The low drone of radio silence hums in their ears as they distract themselves with scanning the landscape.
“This area is prone to dust storms I’ve heard. How can we be sure what we’re looking for hasn’t been covered up?” Cecil says, peering over the back-seat railing and into Agrippa’s lap. Navigating, the old man examines a chunky device, tiny LCD screen covered in topographical readings.
“Granted, the landscape is always changing here, but there’s a few notable features I’ve been able to track. We’ll have to spot it the old-fashioned way nonetheless.” Agrippa explains without looking up from his instruments.
“This is your area of expertise, so I guess we have to count on you.” Cecil says, breathing loudly through his nose. “Think about it, we could be the guys who open up the gate to our next big step. Our names would go down in human history. Imagine what our friends and family at home would say.” Cecil drums his hands playfully on the back of the seat.
The land before them reaches a plateau, the rover continuing on dutifully. The base of a mount creeps up in front of them, pockmarks and rubble dotting their path. The vehicle rumbles and shakes as the sturdy tires tear into the rugged ground, churning up tiny clouds of dust.
Markus darts his head back and forth between the landscape in front of the rover and Agrippa in the seat next to him. He is first to break the silence.
“You’re gonna’ let me know if I’m following the correct heading, right? You’re the science guy after all. I can’t make heads or tails of that stuff anyways.” Markus asks hesitantly, continuing to maneuver his way between masses of impassable rubble.
“I’m not senile ya’ know. Respect me when I say I know what I’m doin’.” Agrippa’s raspy voice is vaguely threatening. “We’re just about in range. There… that looks promising.” Agrippa exclaims, motioning at a steep hillside that meets sharply with the rest of the landscape. Markus veers the rover towards it, the three men gazing hopefully.
The rover draws closer and a tear in the ground comes into view. Upon reaching it, the size becomes more apparent. The rough walls arch up to the apex about 8 feet above the top of the rover. Sand and rocks from the surface seem to trickle down into the steep opening. The headlights of the rover flip on but the beams seemed to disappear down into the darkness. Markus stands up and peers down the hole. “This is where we stop I guess. There’s no way the rover is making it down there. I can’t risk it… we don’t wanna have to walk back after all.”
Agrippa and Cecil grunt in agreement. The three unharness themselves from the rover and climb out, beginning to fiddle with their gear. Cecil crouches down in front of the storage compartment and fumbles around with the contents. He alternates looking at his gear and staring off down the hole.
Markus notices him. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m just thinking about what gear I should take.” Cecil lets out a chuckle, weighing his options. He pauses to think about having to bring the load of equipment down then back up.
Markus grabs a head lamp from another compartment. “You’re not in your safe place inside the station here. We don’t know how tough this trek will be down there. This isn’t a tourist attraction either, there are no paths or guard rails.” He throws a coil of rope at Cecil who catches it reflexively. “It’s steep, and as much as I hate to say it, we have to rely on each other for this. We’re going to do this like a mountaineering team… like Everest, tethered together in a line. We don’t want to return back to the rover one person short.”
“You’ve climbed Everest, Mark?” Agrippa says playfully.
“Plenty of people have. All of the rich moguls and would-be athletes have gone up and done it just for the sport of it.” Markus explains indignantly. “Not me, but I’ll have you know that more have summited Everest than have been here on Mars.”
“I recall Everest being littered with bodies of those who couldn’t keep up with their teams or made a simple mistake that lead to an unfortunate end. Rescue operations at that altitude just end up with more people getting hurt, so bodies just sit there… frozen for eternity.” Agrippa adds, facetiously.
“Hell, It’s an example.” Markus shakes his head. “Anyways, we have to work as a team. They’ll have our asses if one of us gets hurt.”
Cecil tries to stifle his snicker inside the mask. Markus’s helmet turns at him sharply, as if he was glaring. Cecil deflects the gaze and turns his attention to the harness attached to his suit. As he pulls the last buckle tight around his thighs, he feels a glove on his shoulder, and the click of a carabineer in the back ring right below the small of his back.
“You’ve just volunteered for first.” Markus’s voice comes through his headset.
“Fair enough.” Cecil gathers up the slack in the rope and tugs it forwards just enough to feel Markus stumble slightly.
“I’m not joining this chain if we’re going to engage in horseplay.” Agrippa says gruffly. He pats the pouches attached to his belt, confirming all his instruments are firmly stowed.
“Lighten up.” Markus says, offering the harness clip t
o Agrippa.
Cecil turns to stare at the gloomy tunnel in front of him. The beam from his head lamp casts a disk of light on the tunnel wall and floor. His partners’ lights dance around the rock in random fashion.
Cecil takes a wide footing to carefully slide down the loose sand at the entrance of the tunnel. “Agrippa, you’re the anchor, don’t get caught up in your instruments.” He turns around just enough to see the other two working their way down behind him.
“I know better than that.”
The tunnel eventually evens out and the floor becomes solid. The darkness continues. Need for conversation is replaced with the focus on staying together and keeping their footing. The silent radio reminds them that contact with station control had long been broken, radio waves unable to penetrate the thick rock. Cecil’s arms feel heavy. He had been holding them in the air beside him for balance, the fatigue slowly settling in. Each slow step feels like his boots pounded harder and harder into the unyielding ground of the tunnel floor. A drop of sweat falls from his brow and streaks on the lower part of his visor.
“Does it feel hotter to you down here?” Cecil wants desperately to wipe his forehead, trying in vain. It reminds him that he is trapped in a tiny bubble of oxygen in the otherwise unhospitable environment.
“Is your heat exchanger not…” Agrippa pauses. “Actually, now that you mention it, yeah.” Agrippa looks down at the screen of his multi-tool clipped to his belt. “Hold up.” He stops suddenly pulling everyone to a halt in the process. “We’re directly inside the area where the heat signature was recorded.” The excitement in his voice is unmistakable. “I think this is our lava tube, boys.”
“Great, I’m already sweaty and gross.” Markus replies snarkily.
“Well at least you match your personality.” Agrippa slaps Markus on the shoulder.
Markus lets out a ‘humph’ and pushes Cecil in the back to spur him walking again. The quick stop to catch his breath and the prospect of a finding gives Cecil the small jolt of energy he needs.
As the tunnel continues on deeper, it opens up into a wide passage. The rough ground slowly transitions into a smooth, worn down base of rock. The unrelenting heat makes his temples throb, even against the cooling system pulsing through the tubes under his suit. Cecil blinks. A drop of sweat creeps toward his eye. The burn of salt stings him. He blinks again. His head feels like it is spinning. He blinks a third time.
“Hey!” Markus’s yell makes Cecil jump to attention. His eyes open wide and he realizes he is drifting into the side of the tunnel.
“You ok?” Agrippa sounds worried. “We can hear you breathing like you’ve just ran a marathon.”
“Yeah… just need a time out.” Cecil says, shaking his head. He reaches out his hand and moves to lean against the wall. “Yow!” He jumps, pulling his hand away out of reflex. He peers down at his glove that is now covered in black soot. The ground below him is coated in the same powder. He scrapes his foot against the rock, sending up particles that dance in the beam of his headlamp. He feels the distinct sensation of sweat between his toes from the heat radiating upon them.
Turning around, he finds the others staring down at him. Their lamps glare into his visor. “It’s like a blast furnace down here. I hope this ends up being what we hope it is.” Cecil rubs his gloves together and swings his legs back and forth to stretch them. After adjusting his headlamp, he continues to lead the group along.
The tunnel starts to become wider. The group pan their heads around, shining their lights off in different directions. The beams disappear into far reaches of what seem like an enormous cavern. Cecil blinks rapidly and his eyes adjust to the void.
“Do you see that? Dim your lights.” Cecil says.
The beams of recoil into their lamps, turning into a weak orange projection. One corner of the cavern seems to emit a similar glow. The group draws closer to find the obvious source of the light.
“Well I’ll be damned.” whispers Markus, the group finding themselves looking in on the magma chamber they had hoped to find.
The walls of the cavern are illuminated by the glow of the bubbling, churning basin of magma. Cecil swelters inside of his suit, but he feels more relieved than anything else.
A communal sigh is felt amongst the group. “Excellent. I’ll take down our coordinates.” says Agrippa, halting the celebration. “We’re down almost half a kilometer from the surface. Command will be all over this is no time.”
Cecil hunches down in exasperation, knowing they would have to climb up the same way. For the moment, however, he admires what they had found… the sheer uncontained power and potential of the planet’s underside. The stinging in his eye brings him back to his surroundings.
The cave seems to contain various branching tunnels away from the volcanic activity. Something down one of the dark paths reflects suddenly back at Cecil, catching his eye. He rises back to his feet and takes a step toward it, pulling the others to attention.
“Just a sec, it’s still triangulating....” Agrippa protests.
“The way out is behind us dimwit.” Markus yanks the tether and thumbs the air behind him. “We’re almost done, and then it’s straight out of this literal hell-hole. Don’t make more walking for us.”
Cecil pulls the reluctant group along, remaining focused on the shimmer. “Do you see that?” He motions down deeper into the cave system, the others catching notice behind him. On the far side of the ravine, another large chamber comes into view. The temperature drops quickly as they venture deeper. The thin layer of sweat on Cecil’s forehead feels clammy.
The tunnel is short, leading them into the dark area. The walls give an impression of being unnaturally smooth and even. At the very center, they stop, finding themselves standing next to a pool of liquid, perfectly glassy in its stillness.
The room seems to glow like the one behind them, but it in a much colder blue light. Cecil moves his gaze upwards. He motions at the others to look towards the ceiling, presenting a direct shaft upwards to the outside.
The brownish Martian daylight appears down the hole. Cecil crouches down along the edge and peers deeply at the dim reflection of the group.
“Well… if this ain’t something. I’ll make a note of this as well, and we can get out of here.” Agrippa says matter-of-factly. The images of their suits in the reflection of the still pool stare eerily back at them.
“Well that’s beautiful and all, but we’re already halfway out of daylight.” Markus interrupts the moment. “I’m sure someone who cares will look at it when they come down here again. Let’s get back and get some chow.” He pulls at his harness that is connected to Cecil, still entranced.
Cecil shifts closer to the edge, boots dragging along the ground. Up close, the reflections on the surface seem blurry. Hesitantly, he brings his hand up to the surface. He extends his index finger gingerly, breaking the surface tension just slightly. A ripple extends to disrupt the stillness of the silvery surface, bouncing around the outside of the pool.
The ripple stops abruptly, the surface unmoving once again. Cecil turns back to the others who had noticed the strange movement as well, pulling their interest back to the pool.
A single ripple appears suddenly from the dead center of the liquid. More follow. The time between the ripples becomes shorter. A hum forms, audible in the otherwise silent room. The reverberation grows in time with the frequency of the ripples. As the sound becomes louder, Agrippa shouts over the communications “What did you do?” He pushes buttons furiously on his instrument, trying to seek out a radio signal.
“Nothing!” Cecil exclaims. The hum is now a wail. He can feel it in his body and in his suit. Anything the others said becomes drowned out. He hears a loud crack and a lightning-shaped line forms in his facemask. Attempting to stand, his knees suddenly feel weak, and his vision goes black as the blood rushes from his head. He stumbles.
Cecil’s body hits the water with a splash. He feels the line connecting him to Markus go taut. Th
e strong ripples forming in the water start to lap over him as he fumbles just under the surface. His strength fades quickly as he flails about trying to stay afloat. He feels his shins hang slightly onto the ground at the edge of the pool as he tries to bring himself back to land, but to no avail. Bubbles dance in front of his visor, illuminated by the light on his helmet. The air escapes the compromised helmet, being replaced by the cold liquid flowing in and washing against his face. His attempt to catch his breath is met with choking.
“Whoa!” Markus exclaims as he is jerked towards the pool that now threatens to pull the rest of the group in. “Agrippa, don’t let go! Help me get him out of there.” Yells Markus, as he digs his feet in, avoiding getting pulled in after Cecil. “Quit flailing ya’idiot!”.
Cecil feels a relaxing wave of coolness overcome his body. He is no longer able to fight back against the pool. Something tugs at him. A voice calls at him from what seemed far away. He breaths deeply, water mixing with what was left of his oxygen.
Mother
“Cecil, do remember me?” The voice suddenly replaces the unending silence.
“I don’t care.” Cecil mumbles, lying motionless in the stiff hospital bed.
“Cecil, you’ve been in an accident. My name is Agrippa. I was on the expedition with you when it happened. It’s been some time, but you’re in a stable condition. How d’ya feel?” The old man’s voice is calm and reassuring.
“I feel like death. What happened?” Cecil grumbles, rolling his head from side to side.
The voice speaks softly and calmly. “For now, I’m going to spare you the details. You’ve undergone treatment for some serious burns. Tell me, do you recognize me, my face?”
Cecil attempts to get a fix on the voice, turning his head. He can feel his skin tingling, itching. As he moves his hand to reach for the source of the voice, he finds his arms strapped down. He struggles, grunting. His eyes feel gritty and seemed to burn, heavy and unable to move. The bright light above him pierces his eyelids.
“Cecil?” Agrippa calls out to him once again.
