“How was it?” Lennon asked after Parker had left.
Matthews shrugged. “She’s fine. It’s a good thing, too. After we get set up, she will be spending more time outside than any of us—she is the geologist after all.”
“Good,” said Dish, pushing himself into the room. “She’s about as useful as a pogo stick in quicksand.”
Matthews gave him a stern look. “Dish, I told you to lay off. She screwed up, but she deserves a second chance. Besides, we need to live with her for a long time. If you stir things up, it will only make things harder on you.”
“I’ll back off ’cause of you, sir, but my main goal in getting out of this chair is because of her.”
“What, do you think she’s going to whack a cripple?”
His face turned red. “I ain’t a cripple, first of all. Second, it took four of us to hold her down. Who’s gonna hold her down next time? You?” He looked at Lennon. “Or you, chicken legs? I’m gettin’ outta this chair.”
“Hey,” Lennon protested, looking down at her legs. She was wearing shorts, and her legs were plainly visible. Dish was right; she had lost a lot of muscle mass in her legs. Embarrassed, she tried to cover them up.
Matthews gave him a fierce look and he backed down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean nothin’ by that. I just want to be prepared. I’m feelin’ better every day, and I will be out of this chair by next week. I promise ya that.” He pushed himself out of the room—an act that was slightly comical because of the amount of time it took him to leave. Nevertheless, Lennon did not doubt that he would achieve his promise regardless of what anyone said was possible. That was just his way.
“I’m sorry,” offered Matthews.
“No, don’t worry about it. He’s just worked up. This is hard for him—his situation I mean—and I think deep down he blames Parker for it.”
Lennon excused herself, stopping by the Wellness area to examine her legs again. They were scrawny. Why had she not noticed how much weight she was losing? She stayed in the Wellness area for another hour, exercising on the trampoline.
Day Two Hundred and Six
Lennon carefully examined the bare back of Dish, moving her hand up and down his spine. He was lying on his stomach, trying not to move at all.
He had made an amazing recovery, and retained full sensation in all of his extremities. With the brace on, he had managed to move both legs and wiggle all of his toes. As far as Lennon could tell, there was no permanent damage to his spine, only impairment due to swelling. Still, she did not want to take chances.
“You still need to wear the brace,” she said.
“Why? I can move.”
“Your muscles are weak and I don’t know what kind of damage has been done to your system. I don’t want to risk injury by rushing things. For now, I will let you try to move—with the brace on—just to see how things go. After another week or two, we will start removing the brace for small periods so that you can start very small movements to build up the muscles in your back. For day to day activities, you’ll still be wearing the brace for some time.”
He grumbled under his breath, but did not argue as she strapped the brace back on. She helped him sit up.
“I think I could walk with crutches,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows.
“I’m serious, Lennon, don’t give me that look.”
“Let’s see if you can stand, first.” She had helped him, supporting his weight, as he moved onto the table, and he used enough of his own muscles that she did not doubt his ability to put weight on his legs. What she did doubt was his ability to know his own limits.
Without waiting for her to change her mind, he slid towards the edge of the table.
“Easy, tiger,” she chided. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” She helped him off the table while he supported his weight with an arm around her shoulders. Slowly, he eased his weight onto his own feet. For a second, he supported his own weight before latching onto her for support.
“Eh?” he said, raising his eyebrows. He grinned expectantly.
“Small periods of time only,” she ordered. “With crutches. You’ll have to make some, I think.”
He grabbed her face and kissed her firmly on the cheek. “Love ya, doc,” he beamed.
“Get out of here,” she teased. “Small periods of time only!” she reminded him as he pushed himself out of the room on his rolling chair, probably off to go find materials to build crutches. Knowing him, he would be walking in a week.
Day Two Hundred and Eleven
The smell of coffee woke Lennon. Angry, she charged out of the sleeping area. Parker stood by the small cooking area, tending to a new cup of instant coffee.
“What are you doing?” Lennon asked.
“Coffee,” she replied, without looking up. “Want some?”
“Parker, we are almost out of coffee. We should be saving it,” she explained.
“I made some for everyone, what’s the big deal?”
Dish shuffled into the room on newly made crutches, rubbing his eyes. When he saw the coffee, his face went red. “The big deal is that it is for all of us! It’s almost gone! You should have asked!”
“Matthews made it without asking,” she protested.
“Matthews made some for us out of his personal share, Parker. The remaining coffee is for the crew. It should have been used to celebrate something, or, I don’t know, the point is that you should have asked.”
“Well I’m sorry, Dish, I thought I would do something nice for the crew. Here’s your stupid coffee.” She handed him a cup. Steam rose from the top. “Enjoy it.”
“I better,” he said as she stomped away, “’cause there won’t be much more!” He lifted it to his mouth, and then cursed because he could not reach it with his mouth while holding himself up on the crutches. Lennon helped him carry it to his sleeping area.
It looked like Parker had intended to make coffee for everyone. It was a good thought, but Dish was right. She should have asked. Lennon picked up the remaining empty cups and stored them as Matthews came into the room.
“What’s all the yelling about,” he yawned.
“Parker tried to make us all coffee. Dish was mad because he feels like she’s wasting it.”
“I’m glad he stopped her. We should save it for something special.”
Lennon thought for a minute. “Are we still going out later?”
“After breakfast. We need the last canister. Dish is moving around now, so he can tend camp. I want to take you and Parker.”
“Do you know where the canister is?”
“Sure, about two kilometers northeast. Trip shouldn’t be too bad, that direction is mostly flat.”
“How long?”
“Couple hours, maybe.”
“We should get moving, then.”
“Right. Let’s get the crew together for breakfast.”
They assembled the crew, but Parker was on edge and not talkative. After breakfast, she talked to Lennon and Matthews alone.
“I think that it would be better if you two went this time. I should stay back,” she began.
“Why would you think that?” asked Lennon, surprised.
“As the geologist, I will have plenty of time outside. Probably more than anyone.” She took a moment to let her words sink in. Lennon wondered, briefly, if she knew that the crew had come to almost the exact same conclusion eleven days ago.
Parker continued. “I still haven’t finished the analysis of the last sample I obtained. I would like to work on it for a little bit and give you guys a chance to get out. Retrieving the water canister, honestly, would hold me up from my work. If you really need me, I’ll go, but otherwise I will be happy to let you have some fun.”
“Thanks, Maria, I appreciate the offer,” said Matthews, “but you know it’s not an issue of seats. We have a spot for you if you really want to go.”
She sighed and lowered her voice. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Sur
e.”
“It’s Dish. I feel really badly for him. He is the only one who hasn’t gone out yet—I think if I stay back it will be easier on him. At least, I feel I shouldn’t go out so often until he gets a chance to go out himself.”
“That’s sweet of you, Parker,” Lennon said. “That is very considerate. I think Dish will be back to full health much sooner than I initially thought—but if you want to stay, that’s ok. Just know that you are welcome to come.”
“Ok,” she smiled. “Say, Lennon, if you think of it, could you just collect a rock for me? Anything you think looks interesting. Surprise me.”
“Sure, Parker, I’ll do that.”
“Thanks,” she said cordially, and returned to her work.
The wind was howling again. Lennon wondered if it was ever calm on Mars. She held her hand over the lens on her helmet, but it made no difference. The sand was the problem with visibility, not the sun.
She took a moment to glance at the Sun. The dust partially obscured it, making it a dull orange color. For a moment, she was in awe—this was the same Sun that was at this moment warming the Earth. She wondered if somewhere, thousands of miles away, this Sun was shining on her mother’s skin. It was a fantastic thing, really, that she did not even know if it was day or night in West Virginia. Perhaps instead, it sent sunlight that reflected off the Moon and spread a comforting glow into the room where her mother slept. If her mother was even alive still, she thought sadly. She was here, on Mars, in the middle of a sandstorm, while the world continued without her on Earth. Somewhere, she was sure, there was a woman giving birth, and at this very moment, a new soul was seeing the Earth for the very first time. Somewhere, possibly, a pitcher was formulating the next pitch that would seal the fate of a baseball game. An executive might be celebrating a major gain, while another might be mourning a tremendous financial loss. A new couple might be falling in love, and another might be breaking up. Somewhere, someone might be fighting for his or her life. Somewhere, a poor soul’s life was ending. She felt a tinge of sadness and lowered her arm, but was unable to ignore the fiery orb hovering in the Martian sky.
She brought her arms in to her chest, despite the bulky suit. She could feel the tears as they overcame the capacity of her eyes to retain and flowed down her cheeks, leaving tracks as they moved down her face. Unable to remove them because of the helmet, she stood, exposed and vulnerable. She lowered the sun visor so Matthews could not see her face.
As if he could sense her pain, he came and stood in front of her, face to face, and touched her shoulder. They stood in a light embrace for a moment, and then he moved his hand to her helmet. She knew what he was asking, and made no move to stop him.
He slowly lifted the mirrored sun visor. They stood—their faces less than a foot apart—and he touched the glass of her helmet with his glove. The world around them froze, and she felt closer to him than she had felt with anyone other than her mother. Never had she experienced anything like this, even with her fiancé.
He leaned in until the front of his helmet lightly tapped hers. Their hands connected and they simply stared, ignoring the world for each other’s eyes.
She did not know how long they stood. It did not matter. She did not know it was possible to feel this much of a bond without physical touch—but they had. His eyes moved down, following the drying tracks of the tears on her cheeks. The moment ended, neither of them having spoken a single word.
They found the last water canister and loaded it without incident. After moving the canister, Lennon saw a rock exposed by the removal of the canister. It was unusual, in the sense that it was bright green and smooth. It was too large to take the whole thing, so she took some tools to it and chipped off a small section. She set it in her bag and they headed back to the camp.
Matthews pushed the buzzer impatiently. “Come on, Parker, it’s freezing out here,” he said, more for himself than to anyone else. Parker would not be listening to the radios anyway, because she should be cycling the airlock to let them come in.
“Where is she?” he asked, pushing the button again.
“Maybe the buzzer’s broken,” Lennon offered.
“We just talked on the radio,” Matthews argued. “She knows we’re here.”
“Maybe there is some other problem.”
“Well, I wish she would get on the radio and tell us. Our air is low. It’s not going to last more than thirty minutes.”
“Easy, Matthews. It won’t take thirty minutes.”
There was movement in the window to the inner door, but the lighting was too dark to see what was going on. The movement stopped, but Lennon could see someone standing in front of the door. Are the lights off in there? She wondered. She did not remember it being so dark in there.
“Come on, Parker,” Matthews said, and mashed the buzzer. There was no movement.
“Calm down, Matthews,” Lennon said, and put her hand on his.
“I can’t see,” he said, and flipped on the mounted lights on the sides of his helmet. They shone into the airlock, and as he moved his body to aim the lights, the figure in the window was briefly illuminated.
It was Parker. She stood centered in front of the window, hands hanging down to her sides. Her eyes were open wide, unblinking, and staring forward. The light moved away and Lennon lost sight of her.
“What in the—” Matthews mused, but Lennon was feeling a growing apprehension. Matthews twisted his body again to illuminate Parker.
The light struck her again, and her face showed no reaction to the stimulus. Even from the distance across the airlock, Lennon could see that her eyes did not move. She did not blink, and her pupils were fully open and did not constrict with the changing light.
Matthews banged on the door with his hand. Parker’s body did not move, but her mouth turned up slightly at the corners to reveal an amused and sadistic smile.
“Oh, no,” Lennon whispered.
Matthews turned and walked away.
“Where are you going?” Lennon called.
“I’m getting some tools. I’m going to break down that door if I have to. If I only have thirty minutes of air, every last breath is going to be spent tearing that door down.”
Lennon turned back to the window and switched on her own lights. Parker was in the same position. As the light struck her, her eyes moved to Lennon and she looked her in the eyes with an empty gaze. The strange grin remained. Lennon was ready to turn to help Matthews when Parker’s head moved quickly forward, bounced off the glass, and went downwards as her body collapsed. Dish suddenly appeared in the window, holding his makeshift crutch like a baseball bat. He glanced at Lennon, hit a few buttons on the wall, and the door hissed open.
“She tried to poison me,” Dish explained as they stood over Parker, who Dish and Matthews had restrained to a chair with cinch straps. She moaned softly. Dish ignored her. “It was the coffee she gave me.”
“How do you know?” Lennon asked.
“I gave some to Rocky. He collapsed within minutes.”
“You WHAT?” Lennon was outraged.
“Oh, your poor, stupid rat,” teased Parker, with a slurred voice. “What about me, Lennon? Dish bashed my head in.”
“Shut up, Parker,” commanded Matthews. His voice was grave. “I don’t think you realize how dire your situation is right now.”
She did not reply. She let her head drop down so that her chin rested on her chest. Her head rose and fell with each breath that she took. The back of her head had an open gash; her skin had split open and blood soaked into her hair.
“She’s going to need stitches,” Lennon noted.
Dish ignored the comment. “The rat’s ok,” Dish said. “Or at least I think it will be. It was breathing last time I checked.”
“You shouldn’t have tested it on him,” Lennon continued, hurt that he would do such a thing.
“Who else was I going to test it on? You? I don’t think so, Lennon.”
“What made you even think to g
ive it to the rat?” Lennon shouted, accusingly.
“Hold on,” Matthews interjected. “Stop it, both of you. Whether or not it was right to test it on the rat, the truth remains that something was in the coffee that shouldn’t have been. In the coffee, that Parker made. Tell us what happened, Dish.”
“Well, she gave it to me, an’ I thought, why would she do something so boneheaded, just makin’ the last ’a the coffee like that. And I know she’s plum’ crazy—”
“I’m not crazy,” hissed Parker.
“Completely out to lunch,” continued Dish, “so I decided to give some to Rocky and see what happened. Sure ’nuff, he passes out. Boom! Right there in the middle of the cage, all four nubs a-stickin’ out like a chubby starfish.
“So I figger she’s up to sump’n, so I pour it out and lie on my bed as if I’m sleepin’, just keepin’ my crutch nearby so I can whack ’er if she start’s sump’n. Lo and behold, I actually fall asleep. I woke with a start, angry with myself, and went out to see what was goin’ on. There she was, leavin’ you all out to die.”
“We don’t know that,” Lennon countered, unconvincingly.
“What else was she doing, Lennon?”
“Don’t you think knocking her out was a little excessive?”
He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. “Whose side are you on?” He shook his crutch at her. “It took us all to hold her down the first time she acted up. This time, she tried to poison me. She tried to leave you out there to die. I wasn’t takin’ any chances.”
Parker chuckled. “You can’t stop me.”
Dish raised his crutch. “You just watch me, sweetheart.”
“Ok, hold on,” Matthews interjected. We need to calm down and discuss this. Is she secure?”
“I used lockdown straps,” Dish explained. “She ain’t gonna break ’em, but…”
“We can lock the door to Crew Quarters, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose. There’s not too much she could get into if she managed to escape the restraints. She could go outside, I suppose, but we could move the suits further into the camp.”
Single Event Upset Page 19
