Terminus Project: Mars (Dystopian Child Prodigy SciFi)

by Casey Herzog

  “I am sorry. I simply wished to put my trust in her abilities and give her the chance to-”

  “-Is that really what you were trying to do?” Doctor Scott chimed in. She wore a smirk on her face that seemed designed to belittle. “Please remember, during all simulations we monitor private communications as well as all open channels. Do you know how many times you sent communications exclusively to crewman Gabell?”

  Peter pursed his lips and tried not to blush. Minerva seemed to be trying to do the same, but she was definitely failing.

  “In your time on the Unity you have shown a great fascination with your cohort's third, to the point that you seem to go out of your way to ensure his wellbeing over the rest of your cohort. Indeed, in some reports from chiefs, you have even been overheard to foster a belief that you and he are somehow bound in some special club of your own, putting each other’s needs over the good of the cohort.”

  Peter felt he should say something. He wanted to defend Min if he could. Still, to butt in now would only add credence to the chiefs' assumptions. She had to fight this fight alone.

  “I... I have nothing against the rest of Pluto Cohort. However, it has proven difficult to integrate with the unit owing to the fact that most of them have grown up together. Even Commander Armstrong knew them before I ever did.” She shifted her weight on the spot and intertwined her fingers together behind her back. “It is also hard to interact with them, being a Martian.”

  The chiefs looked at each other in that moment, their faces turned suddenly grave. It was as though Minerva had just casually mentioned there was a bomb on the ship that would blow in the next few moments. The eyes of all the officers turned to the Admiral, clearly unwilling to guess the appropriate action.

  “Miss Tharsis, do you feel your being born on Mars station is a limiting factor in your ability to work with your squad?”

  Minerva drew in an audible breath, but didn't give an answer.

  “Miss Tharsis. I would appreciate a candid response.”

  Peter braced himself, knowing this meeting would not end well for her, and maybe not for him either. “It is not my fault.”

  Admiral Gayle raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat. He took a long moment to stare at the Martian, his fingers tented as he pondered her answer. “This ship is called the Unity for a reason, Miss Tharsis. Far more than the first militarized space faring vessel to be commissioned, we are meant to represent the ability of humanity to tie itself together even across the vast reaches of our solar system. Promoting division between our own, creating groups, it is exactly the kind of thinking that leads to the development of a secessionist movement to begin with.”

  “I...I understand, Admiral.” Minerva lowered her head, the light dancing over her bald scalp. Peter felt sorry for her, but couldn't do anything. He was lucky not to have been singled out here for blame in this issue.

  “Miss Tharsis, it behooves me to remind you that we will be approaching Mars station within the month. I would suggest you take the time over these next few weeks to really consider just how you view you place on our great work. Gabell has shown tremendous gains in earning the respect of the cohort. Even before, he has demonstrated a definite desire to forge such bonds.”

  Minerva's eyes gravitated towards Peter. He tried to smile at her, but couldn't with so many eyes on them. She turned her gaze back to the chiefs. “I will bear it in mind. Thank you.”

  It was a curt answer and probably the wrong one. Peter feared what this would mean for her future on the project.

  CHAPTER 15

  There was no Christmas in space. There was no Easter, Divali or Valentine's Day either. Secularism ruled. Forgetting the fact that it was impossible to really celebrate festival days in any meaningful way, the social function was another way that division could be created between members of the Unity crew. It meant that only five days really mattered to the members of the Unity crew: destination days. Now, they were celebrating the first such day. The Unity had reached Mars.

  The Red Planet had continued to grow in the port windows of the Unity, gradually gaining in size as its twin moons and the Mars Station coming into view in orbit around it. Now, Mars Station floated in parallel with the Unity, a shuttle pushing off to the Unity, bearing the first fresh faces the team had seen in nearly a year of travel.

  For Mars Cohort, the mood was euphoric. They had reached their destination. Mars Station, the various bases, and mining operations on the planet and moons of Deimos and Phobos would now be their home. Their training complete, they would now become Mars' first peacekeeping presence, assuring the secessionists did not take hold of the planet, or threaten its population. And that presence was sorely needed. In the last months, it had been confirmed that the moon base of Phobos had sided with the secessionist movement.

  Mars Cohort were eager to accept the challenge put on them. Their commander, Joel Armstrong, seemed exceptionally keen to show what his team of thirty could do. Being the cohort to leave the Unity first, and in an area of space assumed free from the immediate threat of the secessionists, Joel and his team had been forced to come to terms with the fact that their names would only be footnotes in the Unity's legacy. Now though, with Phobos in secessionist hands, they had an opportunity to really contribute something meaningful to the mission.

  Seated in the mess hall, Peter was about the only person on ship not whipped into a frenzy by the approach of the shuttle from Mars Station. He sat by himself, picking at his breakfast as members of different cohorts moved about, eagerly discussing the shuttle’s arrival and the assignments they might find themselves given during the recapture of Phobos. He looked at them all, especially the members of his own cohort. He wished he could share in their eagerness and joy, but he simply couldn't.

  As he ate a little more of his porridge and sipped tentatively at the bitter black coffee he had poured himself, he noticed a figure coming toward him.

  “Commander.” Peter gave the greeting without passion, barely raising his eyes as Alphred took a seat beside him.

  “Peter, you seem rather less enthusiastic about the imminent arrival of new faces than the rest of the squad.” The commander had brought his own breakfast over and began to eat in a methodical, almost mechanical manner. The way he ate, Peter knew the commander would finish ahead of him.

  “Mars is going to be interesting, not just because of the news about Phobos. We have Min to think about too.”

  Alphred nodded and took a long gulp from his own cup of coffee, immediately following it with a sip of juice. “That is Tharsis' decision still to make. If it will help allay your concerns in any way, I can tell you she has put in no formal request with the chiefs to be dismissed from duty and join her parents on Mars Station.”

  Peter gave a grunt. “That doesn't mean much. If I wanted to quit this boat I'd stay quiet about it until the last possible second before getting off. Can you imagine the backlash she'd have from the others, not just our cohort, if she announced her intention to leave a whole month back?”

  Alphred held his coffee in both hands. He was midway to taking another sip, but Peter's words seemed to have set his mind to thought so that his breakfast was momentarily forgotten. “I suppose that would be a sensible way to take things if it were her plan. Have you talked to her? If she were to confide in anyone on the matter it would be you.”

  Peter shook his head, letting his spoon fall with a clang into his half-finished bowl. “Not for a few weeks now, at least not in any meaningful way. I can't blame her. The chiefs really chewed her out for spending so much of her attention on me.”

  Alphred turned, his eyes narrowing as if studying Peter's face for clues. “You know it was a valid call from the chief's though. Aside from her outstanding record regarding EVA, maintenance, and combat, she has not shown any willingness to bond with hardly any of the crew. You are the only exception.”

  “She must have improved in their eyes over the last weeks.” Peter was clutching at straws and knew
his defense was easy to counter.

  “Just because she is no longer dedicating so much attention exclusively toward you, it does not mean that she has made gains. In my private briefings with the chiefs, it's been suggested that she seems more distant than ever. Couple that with the fears they now have regarding her overall loyalty to our cause...” Alphred trailed off. He took a deep breath as he looked out over the other cohorts and crew, all excited having made it to Mars. “Why is it us Peter? I am not a superstitious person, and yet I can't help thinking our cohort is cursed.”

  “Maybe it's just me,” Peter answered grimly. “I'm going to find Minerva before the shuttle makes dock. Hopefully the chiefs will be too wrapped up with communications and organizing maneuvers that they won’t be scrutinizing our every move.”

  Alphred nodded. “I'd say that is a good idea. Do you want me to come with you?”

  Peter opened his mouth to say no, but thought better of it. “You know what, that might be a good idea. It'll be good for her to see there are others aside from me who want to see her remain on the Unity.”

  It was hard to move about the ship. The usual state of rest and activity periods for the cohorts usually assured only two cohorts were actively roaming the living rotundas at a time. The chiefs had relaxed protocol once reaching Mars, and now it seemed as though every square inch of the corridor was crowded with groups talking in huddles.

  Peter didn't need his com or luck to find Minerva though. He knew well enough where she would likely be. Leading Alphred through the packed throng, they slipped down the ladder into the Unity's main ship and floated along until they reached the combat room.

  “Min?” Peter called into the room before entering. If she were here, she wanted to be alone, and he did not want to intrude on it without courtesy.

  “I'm here, long time no...” the words caught in Minerva's throat as Peter came through the door, Alphred close behind. “Oh. Commander. How can I help you?” Her voice had turned in an instant, flat like a burst tire.

  “I wanted to see how you were doing.” Peter answered. “It's been awhile since we last talked and...I want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you after that mission. I don't want this to turn into bad blood between us, or for you to think I've been avoiding you to keep the chiefs happy.”

  Minerva floated in the far corner of the combat room, stretched out on her back as though lying on her cot. Peter could see the way her body seemed to tense as she gave a casual shrug. “It's fine. I deserved what the chiefs were saying. Especially when I think that I let something as stupid as jealousy influence my decisions in the field. When I told you to let Nisha make her own way back to the airlocks...that was bad. I don't like that it was my call.” She rolled her body and looked down. Her lip quivered, but otherwise her expression was stony. “Commander, are you here to ask if I've decided to step down from my role as your second?”

  Alphred used a section of wall and pushed upward, closing the gap with her. “It was not our sole intention in seeking you out, though I won't pretend it wasn't a factor.”

  “Practical as always.” Minerva put her hands behind her head, fingers splaying out over her smooth skull. “I haven't made up my mind on that point. The chiefs have had me attend private counseling sessions with Doctor Scott. She is a better physician than she is a therapist, but I guess it has been good to talk through my issues with her.”

  “I never guessed,” Peter said, feeling a little guilty for not having noticed her absences.

  “They were during the cohort’s rest period mostly, so you wouldn't have seen me sneak off. The meetings were meant to be secret, so I didn't think it wise to tell you about them. Didn't know if the chiefs were having me watched.”

  Peter nodded. He was just now floating past Minerva and angled his body so they now all appeared to be standing together in the space. “I understand. You do know that's been the only reason I've been keeping my distance too, right. I didn't want to make any trouble for you.”

  Minerva's forehead creased up, and he could tell she was skeptical. “I'm sure it was easier since your injury here. Seems the whole cohort is eager to stay on your good side these days.”

  Peter pursed his lips and tried to suppress a shudder as he thought back to the traumatic assault, the memory of being plunged into perfect darkness in this very space.

  “Would you say you are jealous of Peter's newfound acceptance within the cohort then? Why is that?” As ever Alphred's questioning had all the tact and subtlety of a hammer on an anvil.

  “I think it’s a stupid hypocrisy.” Minerva gave her answer sharply. “I have to say, I find it interesting how both of you and the chiefs seem to have brushed the incident aside to focus on the social gains it afforded. Or, does it not matter to you that there are essentially assassins among us?”

  Alphred turned to Peter, seeming as interested in his answer as Minerva was. The trouble was Peter had no answer for them. In the end, Minerva gave up on waiting.

  “Look, I know what you've come to ask, so I'll be clear with you. I haven't made a decision about what I'm doing here on the Unity, but the chiefs have given me leave to spend time on Mars Station with my parents while I make my decision.”

  Peter shared an uneasy glance with Alphred. “Really, the Admiral allowed that?”

  “Pluto Cohort are to play no part in the retaking of Phobos from the secessionists. The cohort will remain with the Unity alongside Uranus Cohort. So, it won't be too great a loss for them letting me spend a week or so on Mars station. Officially, my absence will be put down as a mission. I'll be seconded to the engineering department.”

  There was a long pause. Peter couldn't tell what Alphred was thinking, but he knew how the scenario looked to him. Giving Minerva time to leave, reconnect with her family; the chiefs were trying to push her to leave.

  “I need to go and have a word with the Admiral.” When Alphred spoke, there was a conviction to his voice that often wasn't there when dealing with his crew's personal issues.

  “What are you going to do?” Minerva watched as he began to float away. “Please remember, commander, I wasn't supposed to tell you about this.”

  “I'm your unit commander. If the Admiral asks, I will tell them I forced the information out of you.”

  “Lying to the chiefs, that's different for you.” Peter was impressed.

  Alphred gave no reply as he shot off through the door, leaving his second and third alone. Minerva took the opportunity at once, putting her attention fully to Peter. “I didn't want to say anything with the commander in the room, but I've been thinking for a while now. Do you remember what we suggested before...if I get off at Mars station, you could join me? There'd be a place for you there.”

  Peter sucked in a breath. “I don't know, Min.”

  “Why, because you’re suddenly making so many gains with the rest of the cohort. Is it because Nisha is now in your pocket since you became her savior?” Minerva's words were scathing.

  Peter frowned and took a deep breath. He didn't want to make this an argument. “Look Min, I'm not sure what you’re thinking right now, but staying on this mission is important to me.” He raised his hand, letting Minerva take in the sight of his fingers. They were slightly smaller than they should have been, a thin line stretched across them as permanent reminded of what had happened. “See this; you know this isn't the worst thing to happen to me.” Peter pointed to the scars on his face.

  “This was far worse. It became my strength though. When I was rescued from the mines, it was this scar that helped me become something new. It brought me here. My fingers are just the same. Someone tried to push me down, and I turned it into strength. I don't know who attacked me here. Hell, maybe it was Michael, maybe it was Colin, or some other guy I share a room with. It doesn't matter. If I make this my strength, I'm standing up to them. I had plenty of opportunities to quit the program. There were many times I could have walked out of my training before coming to the Unity. I knew what I
was getting into when I signed up...five years with people who hated my guts. But I wasn't going to let them bully me out.”

  “Peter...” Minerva whispered his name. Her differently colored eyes fled from him, turning to a far corner. She wrapped her arms around herself. Her chest heaved like she was struggling not to cry.

  Peter felt bad and relaxed his stance a little. “I'm sorry. Bottom line, I don't want you to give up on this. I don't care if the chiefs are trying to pressure you to step down and transfer to Mars Station. I want you here. Even if I am doing better with the rest of the cohort, you're still the one I know has my back at all times.”

  Minerva bit her lip. “Don't try and guilt me into staying Peter. I'm not here to prove anything to myself, or the others. And don't dismiss what I've been saying either. There could be a place for you on Mars Station. I don't want you to get to Pluto, realize you're stuck there, and never return.”