Before Mars

by Emma Newman

  Elvan nods. “Half a dozen. All dormant.”

  “This would have cost millions . . . no, billions,” Banks says, heading back to us. “It’s . . . insane.”

  “Maybe Gabor’s mining asteroids,” Elvan says. “I saw something about that on one of the feeds, years ago, talking about how Mars could be a good place to run a mining operation from. Considering the scarcity of various minerals on Earth, maybe it makes sense, economically.”

  Petranek looks unconvinced. “I never bought into that idea. So you can mine stuff from asteroids—big deal; you need to build a refinery here so you’re not shipping back crap, and the cost to get those refined materials back to Earth kills the profit. It’s cheaper to use molecular printers for the super-rare stuff and take the hit on the time it takes to produce what you need.”

  “And why keep a mining operation secret?” Banks says. “Whatever they were building here, they didn’t want it to be known about. What would that be? Androids?”

  “Again, why do that?” Petranek replies. “Why make something you can’t use on Earth? No profit. Besides, it’s a type of ship they were building, and I reckon they left on it.”

  “But why?” I ask. “Why come all the way to Mars in secret to build a ship, only to go home on it?”

  “Maybe they haven’t gone home,” Elvan says. “Oh . . . shit . . . what if this has something to do with Atlas?”

  “Gabor thinks the Pathfinder was a lunatic,” Petranek says. “He didn’t have any fucks to give about that suicide mission. You must have seen the interview with him and that Alejandro Casales—you know, the one who started that Circle cult? It was years ago. Anyway, Gabor wiped the floor with him. Said the Pathfinder was just another one of those doomsday-cult leaders who kill all their members. She just did it with more style.”

  “Maybe he said that so no one would think he was interested in following her,” Banks suggests, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

  “He doesn’t have the tech to build a ship anything like Atlas was.” Petranek picks up another piece of junk, the frown now set in. “The Pathfinder may have been insane, but she was one hell of a scientist and she wouldn’t let that Mackensie guy sell any of their advances. We just haven’t built anything that could make that kind of trip in a human lifetime. And I’m not even convinced they did.”

  “But what if she left the knowledge in that capsule?” Elvan says. “The one they’re opening soon. What if there was a copy? What if Gabor got hold of it?”

  Petranek laughs. “There is no way they left blueprints for building another Atlas. Why would they do that? They wanted to leave everyone else behind. Why give them a way to let the unchosen masses follow them? The only thing in that capsule will be some boring memoir or a collection of poetry or some sentimental bullshit to placate the abandoned. You know, the whole ‘Hey, you can forge your own paths to God’ shit they spout in the States.”

  Banks is staring at Petranek. “I had no idea you were so jaded about Atlas.”

  Petranek shrugs. “One of my brothers got all nerdy about it one summer. Drove us all crazy.” Ze nudges at another piece with hir foot. “Maybe there’s another base on Mars. Maybe they went on a test flight.” Before any of us can respond, ze says, “Nah. You don’t take a crew of twenty-one on a test flight.”

  “If they all left on it,” I say. “And there aren’t nineteen bodies buried somewhere.” A deathly silence falls and I take in their horrified faces. “Oh. I shouldn’t have said that out loud, should I?”

  “I bet Arnolfi knows what they were building,” Elvan says. “I’ve been thinking about this. Did you see the footprints when we arrived? They came from her rover, went to the launchpad, then went round to the ramp entrance. She was concussed, had a broken arm and yet she still climbed out and did all that before I had to shut her down. She was motivated.”

  “Like she was scared of being left behind,” Banks says. “The question is why, considering she’s contracted to be here until next year. You need to wake her up,” he says to Elvan.

  Elvan sighs, looks down and then nods. “Yeah. I think I do.”

  We all go to the medlab in silence. I wonder if the others are feeling the same sense of dread that has settled over me, but I don’t want to ask them. I can’t help but feel that if Arnolfi was scared of being left behind, there’s a reason why that’s more than just wanting to go wherever that ship has gone. What if there is something on Mars she wants to get away from?

  What if it is me?

  No, that’s just paranoia. If I was that much of a problem for her, she could easily have done that psych assessment straightaway, declared me unfit for duty and confined me to quarters. She could have drugged me up and made me incapable of being any sort of problem. If she was the one who wiped my memory, why not do it again? I shiver at the thought of it. It feels like I’ve been violated, but it’s such a nebulous feeling. Not like someone breaking into your room and stealing things. I have no idea what she has taken, aside from the memory of painting those canvases. And why do that?

  The fact that she came here as soon as I made the claim about a second base bothers me too. If she hadn’t done that, it would still be a secret. She must have panicked. But why?

  The endless questions are doing nothing but making me feel more stressed. I grasp for something else to think about and find myself wondering what Mia is doing now. There’s another pang of missing her, but this time I don’t push it away. I savor it, letting myself wish I could hold her. I always think about the bad times, about the nights I couldn’t sleep because I was too busy listening to her breathing. But there were special moments too, and now, when I expect it least, I remember her first laugh. I sneezed, that was all, the sort of sneeze that comes out like a squeak that usually irritates the hell out of Charlie. But it made her giggle. And then I laughed and made another squeak and she laughed again.

  Suddenly she was more than just a demanding biological machine. She was a little person. A person I had neglected. Oh, I kept her clean and talked to her and made sure she had everything she needed in the moment, but I didn’t give her myself. Not like those other parents did. There was always something in the way, like I was stuck behind a pane of glass, watching her through it, wishing I didn’t have to keep looking. When tears well in my eyes I push that thought away. Better to think about that laugh. I must have a recording of it somewhere, in a mersive. I’ll find it later. Once all this is done. And it will be, by the time the day is out; it will all be out in the open. I have the feeling I will need something made of pure joy when that happens.

  I can see how upset Elvan is, and how he tries to hide it with silence as Petranek fills the channel with speculation about the clean room. Most of it goes over my head, giving me the mental space to think about Elvan instead. He’s close to Arnolfi and he feels betrayed. All of them are shaken by finding this base, but it has been a relief for me. Now there are others banging themselves against Principia’s walls too, puzzling it out with me. I take what little comfort I can in the fact that I don’t feel alone here.

  When we reach the medlab and gather around Arnolfi’s bed, Elvan hesitates. “She’s going to be disoriented. Maybe I should wake her alone.”

  “No,” Banks says without a beat. “We stay together.”

  “Don’t you trust me?” Elvan asks.

  “I don’t trust her,” Banks says.

  “We’ll stand back.” Petranek takes a few steps back until ze reaches the wall and leans against it. “Then she won’t feel crowded. How about that?”

  Elvan agrees and takes off his helmet and gloves, gesturing for us to do the same. I do it for him, not to make Arnolfi feel more at ease when she wakes. “It will take a couple of minutes for this to wake her,” he says, preparing a pen syringe from his medkit. “I suggest that I speak first, just until she’s fully back with us. An interrogation as soon as she opens her eyes isn’t goin
g to do anything except distress her.”

  When the others nod, he injects her and then taps at something in his visual field. He’s probably monitoring her vitals. He replaces the syringe and then rests a hand over hers. He is such a gentle man, so caring. I look away.

  I glance back only when a little moan comes from Arnolfi and then I turn away again, not wanting to witness her distress. Not wanting to witness his kindness toward her either. He talks to her in his soft voice, soothing her, telling her about her injuries and then where she was found.

  “Is this Principia?” she asks. I look at her then, as Elvan tells her where we are.

  Her face crumples. “Oh God. Oh God, it’s all gone wrong,” she croaks and starts to cry.

  Banks and Petranek exchange a look as Elvan holds Arnolfi’s hand and tries to comfort her. They are impatient, but their care for their colleague is still there. I have none of that care and have to fight the urge to just grab hold of her and bombard her with questions.

  “Did you know about this base before today?” Elvan asks as she settles into a silent weeping.

  She nods, her face a portrait in shame as she tilts away from him to notice the rest of us here. She blinks at me and then returns her gaze to Elvan. “What must you think of me?”

  “Well, we’re not really sure what’s going on, to be honest,” he says. “But I’m upset you hid this from me. Was it a corp order?”

  She nods, then shakes her head, the tears flowing more freely now. “I wish it was. There’s no point lying to you anymore. It’s all over now. They left.”

  “Look, what the fuck is going on?” Petranek blurts out, shooting forward to lean over Arnolfi. “What were they building here? A ship?” When Arnolfi nods, Petranek leans closer. “Why are you so upset? Because they left you behind? Why did you want to go with them so much?”

  “Because we’re all going to die here,” she sobs. “They left us all to die!”

  “What is this bullshit?” Petranek yells. “Why are you saying this?”

  With her good hand, Arnolfi covers her face, inconsolable. Banks puts a hand on Petranek’s shoulder and gently pulls ze back. “Has she had some sort of breakdown?” he asks Elvan.

  “It’s difficult to say,” he begins, but Arnolfi scrapes her hand down her face and seems to rally herself.

  “I’ll tell you everything. There’s no point hiding it now. But you have to know, before I tell you, that you all agreed to this.”

  In the stunned silence she looks at me again and I know she is lying. There’s too much guilt in her eyes, in the way she cannot hold my gaze. She swallows and looks at the others again. “You all agreed to stay behind and die. You just can’t remember.”

  20

  ELVAN ADJUSTS THE bed so she’s sitting up and gets her a glass of water. “I’m sorry,” she croaks before taking a sip. “I’m not quite myself.”

  “It’s perfectly natural after a neural shutdown,” Elvan says as Petranek shrugs off Banks’s hand and goes back to leaning against the wall, arms crossed, frown back in place.

  I watch Arnolfi gather her wits, like she’s putting her armor back on, fixing her face and taking deep breaths. Like someone about to go onstage. “What exactly did everyone consent to?” I ask, not wanting to give her another moment to build those walls back up. I know how much can be hidden behind them.

  She swallows, unable to look any of us in the eye for a moment. “This place had to stay a secret. The order came from the top.”

  “So now you’re saying there was an order to keep this place secret?” Petranek says, and Elvan holds up a hand.

  “We can’t trust anything she said in the first couple of minutes of waking up,” he says.

  “Including the part about us being left here to die?” Petranek asks.

  “Especially that,” Elvan replies evenly. “Let’s start again.”

  I press my lips together in frustration. She never answered my question and Elvan isn’t helping. He’s too trusting, but I can see I have an ally in Petranek; ze doesn’t seem to be buying into Elvan’s excuse either.

  “I knew about it. It was part of my job to make sure that it never got leaked through the show. And most of the time I never even thought about it. I focused on my own work. I didn’t like you all being kept in the dark and I tried not to dwell upon it.”

  “Why not tell us?” Banks says. “We’re all locked into contracts. We’ve all signed NDAs, for all sorts of stuff.”

  She shrugs. “That’s what Gabor wanted. Strictly need to know.”

  “What did everyone consent to?” I ask again.

  She bites her lower lip. “I want you all to know that I had no choice in this.”

  “Shit, this is bad, then,” Petranek mutters.

  “Everything was spiraling out of control and I had to make sure that the primary mission wasn’t jeopardized, so . . .” She puts the cup down and presses her shaking palms together. “So I had to dial back. I had to perform a neurophysiological procedure to . . . to help you all to forget about this base.”

  “What. The. Fuck?” Petranek says and Banks puts his hand on hir shoulder again. “Are you saying we all knew about this place too at one point, and you made us forget about it?”

  She nods and winces at the expletives that burst from Petranek. Banks seems strangely calm and Elvan looks at me. We stare at each other for a few moments, both of us processing what she said.

  “So that is how I found this place, then,” I say, feeling strangely reassured. “Some part of me must have made me head in this direction subconsciously. I guess you didn’t do a good enough job of scrubbing my brain.”

  “It was all your fault!” Arnolfi blurts out, then reaches for the water again.

  “My fault?” I ball my fists. “What, my fault that you lied to your colleagues, that you tried to make out that I was having a fucking psychotic break? That was my fault?”

  “You found this place, about a month after you arrived,” she says through her teeth, barely able to hide her anger now. “You wouldn’t let it go.”

  A month after I arrived? It’s so chilling, hearing her speak of something I did and have no recollection of. She may as well be describing a parallel universe. Now I know why she looked so angry when I went outside during the fake storm and reported what I’d seen. It was because I was doing it all over again.

  “You placed me in an impossible situation.” She looks away from me, trying to suppress that rage at me again. “I didn’t want any of you to get into trouble!” she says to the others. “It was the simplest, cleanest solution.”

  “And we consented?” Banks asks. When she nods, he says, “Do you have something we signed?”

  “Fuck whether we signed anything!” Petranek says. “You scrubbed our memories? I mean, how does that even work? It’s not like we’re computers! Elvan, you said yourself it was only theoretical, and potentially dangerous!”

  Arnolfi looks at him in confusion. “Why were you talking about it?” she asks.

  “Because of the paintings,” he says.

  “Did you bring them here?” I ask. She nods. “So you’ve scrubbed out, what, a month of our memories? What have you told our friends and families back home?”

  “The comms blackout.” Petranek snaps hir fingers. “That’s to cover all this up, isn’t it? JeeMuh, that is some fucked-up shit right there.”

  Arnolfi doesn’t reply. She looks at me. “I couldn’t dispose of the paintings back at Principia. The material isn’t degradable enough for the waste processor. I couldn’t risk burying them, not with you likely to use ground scanners and being so”—her lip curls—“so curious about everything. So I brought them here.”

  “This is unbelievable,” Petranek says. “I mean, literally unbelievable. Are you seriously telling us that you thought that a risky, potentially dangerous neurophys procedure was the b
est option? Seriously?”

  “Would you have preferred me to report the security breach? To potentially—”

  “Yes!” Petranek cuts her off. “Yes, I would have preferred that, like any sane person would. People find shit out that’s above their pay grade all the fucking time, and I bet they don’t get scrubbed. I would have preferred an adult conversation in which we all agreed to sign an NDA. Was that not an option?”

  Arnolfi squeezes the cup, her knuckles white. “Not at the time, no. It wasn’t.”

  “Why?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “So, you’ve altered all the time stamps,” Banks says, still unemotional. “To make us think Kubrin just arrived a few days ago? Why wipe a whole month though? Why not just from the day we learned about the base?”

  “Kubrin made it all very difficult. If she wasn’t here, it would have been far easier, and not just because she found Segundus.” Arnolfi waves a hand at the room. “That’s what this place is called.”

  “Easier because of our routines?” Elvan asks.

  “Yes. I could have taken a day of memories, no problem. But Kubrin is an oddity for us all. And we all encode memories on multiple levels in multiple parts of the brain. I had to dial you all back to the day she arrived, so I could be certain I took out—”

  “What else did you take?” Petranek yells. “Can you cherry-pick?” Ze glares at Elvan and Banks. “Why are you both so fucking calm about this? She fucked with our heads! I would never consent to that! Never!”

  “Petranek,” Banks says, putting himself between Arnolfi’s bed and his friend. “Lynn. We’re all shocked here, and we’re all upset. But we have to keep calm. Okay?”

  Petranek searches his eyes. “Why aren’t you angry?”

  “I am,” Banks says. “I really am, but right now, I’m keeping it under control. And you need to do the same; otherwise, this could escalate into something we can’t take back. Okay?”

  I find myself admiring his self-control at the same time I’m wondering whether he’s honed it over the years of his indenture. Constantly holding back his anger has become second nature to him. The thought is sobering.