by Liam Scott
“Helmets on.” Dr. Lee declared without looking. They obeyed, sliding the locking mechanism into place. Tepid air rushed through Atlas’ suit and he took a shallow breath. There was a low bleep as their communications systems came to life and synced together.
“Testing,” Atlas called. “Testing, testing, anyone there?”
Five suits stood around him, staring at him, unimpressed.
“We’re going to collect the specimens you’ll transport back to Earth,” Helene said as they unlatched the door. Atlas felt lighter as they made their way to one of the two research rovers that waited in the bay. “It’s not far, just outside the Colony.”
“What are they for?” Atlas asked. The rovers were big, sturdy looking vehicles with reinforced steel exteriors and thick wheels that moved on a continuous track, capable of navigating various terrains. There were small, broad windows with triple-paned glass located high up, and an interior capable of holding eight large adults comfortably in one sitting, complete with a/c and heating.
“An environmental impact study.” Helene said as they settled into their seats. She pulled her seatbelt across her body, latching it into place, and he did the same. “The Colony insists that it’s scientists complete one every year around the same time, just to observe any small changes in composition or mineral deposits on the planet’s surface.”
“So it’s not a big deal?”
“You’re not even supposed to be here,” one of the male scientists snapped. “Why do you care?”
“I like to know what it is that I’m transporting,” Atlas clarified.
“So some shabby pilot comes in, running his mouth, and suddenly he’s privy to all of our knowledge?”
“Shabby?!” Atlas cried indignantly.
“Marcus,” Dr. Lee chastened. He had climbed into the passenger seat. The other female scientist took the driver’s seat and he said, “Dr. Carson, take us out.”
The rover sped out of the bay, jolting over the lip of the exterior opening. The landscape was bright and dusty and Atlas watched from the rover window as the sprawling structure of the Colony grew smaller in the distance. From inside, the wind was especially loud as it whistled across the vehicle. For an hour, they drove, deeper into the rocky terrain. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Helene staring out of the window in confusion.
“I thought you said it wasn’t far,” Atlas said, looking out of her window as well.
“It’s not, I’ve been there before. I’m sure we’re just taking the long way around,” she assured.
Atlas wasn’t so sure. His suit was getting stuffy, though the climate switch had been activated, and he was ready to leave the rover. If the other members of their group were confused about their direction, they remained quiet about it, staring down at their tabs or looking dully out of their windows.
“Wait, what is this?” Helene demanded. Atlas turned to her side and through the dusty glass, an endless progression of canyons spread out below them, dark and imposing. The canyons where her parents were killed.
“Dr. Riley,” Dr. Lee said, attempting to calm her. She jerked around to him, betrayal spreading over her features.
“How could you bring me here? You, of all people, should understand what this place took from me.” Helene said hotly. Atlas could see the soft shaking of her hands inside her thick gloves. Without thinking, he reached over to grab her fingers, and when she didn’t pull away, he left them there.
“What are we doing out here, doc?” Atlas asked, though he wasn’t actually expecting a response.
“Collecting samples,” the scientist with the bad attitude, Marcus, said slowly, looking at Atlas like he was an idiot.
“Dr. Riley, this is an exploratory mission and you are a scientist. You will do as you are told.”
Helene stared back at Dr. Lee in utter disbelief.
“Helene-” he started again, sounding regretful. She turned away, pulling her hand from Atlas’ grip and staring forlornly out of the window.
Atlas looked around the vehicle at the other researchers, searching for any sign of agitation. The other scientists refused to make eye contact with him as the rover drew closer to the dark crevices of the canyons and a shred of doubt began to form in Atlas’ mind about what these soil samples actually were and whether anything about this expedition was what it seemed to be. As the rover came to a sharp stop, Atlas unlatched his seatbelt. Marcus pressed a hand to his chest.
“No way you’re going in there,” he said. “Experts only.”
Atlas grumbled under his breath, “expert assholes”.
Helene remained in her seat as the others left the vehicle, grabbing their gear and machinery from the rear of the rover. Dr. Lee hesitated for a moment, staring at her before he closed his door and he and the others took off across the sand, the sun glinting off their helmets in the bright morning.
“Guess I’ll keep you company,” Atlas offered.
“Like you have a choice.” Helene replied wryly.
“You do.”
Helene turned away from the window and her lovely face was pained, “does this make sense to you?”
“Well-”
“I mean this place has been off-limits ever since the accident and for over twenty years, no one has stepped foot inside the canyons.” Helene’s mouth twisted into a frown and he knew she was only thinking aloud but he decided to answer anyway.
“As far as we know,” said Atlas.
“What are you implying?”
“Look, your guys out there didn’t seem too surprised to be here, did they?” Helene shook her head slowly and he continued. “Which means you’re the only one who hasn’t been here before- well, other than me, of course.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Helene said, uncertain. “What could be so important down there that they’ve covered it up for twenty years?”
“Good question.”
After over an hour of waiting, the team finally returned, their suits stained a dusty red. Helene must have quietly decided to act as if everything was fine. She inquired about the soil density and the mineral deposits and received vague answers in return, as if her co-workers were making up their findings as they went. Atlas stayed silent, preferring to listen to their half-truths and fabrications as they drove back to the Colony through a swirling storm of dust.
The rover jolted up the ramp and into the bay. Atlas stepped out, glad to be able to move outside of the cramped interior. Helene wandered over to him as the other scientists followed Dr. Lee back to the laboratory, with samples in hand.
“You wanna grab something to eat?” She asked, looking uncertain.
“Are you asking me out?”
“I’m asking you in.” Helene replied, indicating with a waving hand that they had yet to move indoors.
Atlas snorted, raising his arm up in a bow and bringing it back down with a swoop.
“After you, m’lady.”
Chapter Six: The Constellation Cafe
T he Constellation Cafe was tiny, something almost akin to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant back on Earth. The whole aesthetic reminded Atlas of the photos his mother kept of old, 1950’s style diners, complete with cracked, red leather booths against one wall and smudged, checkered tiles lining the floors. The counter wrapped around one wall, and the stools there were filled with customers bent over their plates, enjoying the atmosphere. Atlas immediately liked the place. After he had gone back to his quarters and briefed Axel on where he was headed, Atlas had taken a quick shower, changed clothes, and hurried through the halls to the cafe.
A waitress in a yellow dress and stained apron raised an eyebrow at him in question and he mouthed coffee. She nodded and winked. Atlas squeezed around the small, packed tables closest to the door and moved by the counter, apologizing as he elbowed the other patrons in their various body parts in the cramped space. There was one window that looked out, in dull contrast to the lively diner, onto the bleak landscape. There Helene sat in the booth, curled around a steam
ing cup of synthetic coffee. She had a big, warm jacket wrapped around her shoulders and her pale hair was tucked beneath the collar.
“Mind if I sit?”
Helene looked up, unfocused. For a moment, it seemed she didn’t recognize him and then she smiled, soft and careful, nodding at the seat across from her, “it’s all yours.”
Atlas slid in beside her instead, reaching over to grab a menu. Helene snorted, looking unsurprised.
“You have a problem with following orders, huh?”
“Understatement,” Atlas replied, smirking into the menu. “But so do you.”
“That was different,” Helene insisted. She breathed in the smell of her coffee and closed her eyes briefly. “Being back there, it was like I was a child again and I was standing there, helpless, watching them die.”
The waitress clanked an empty cup down in front of Atlas and brought a hot carafe up, pouring steaming liquid into the ceramic cup. “Any cream? Sugar?”
“Two creams, eight sugars. Thanks,” Atlas replied. The waitress left and he realized Helene was staring at him, baffled and maybe a little disgusted, all traces of melancholy gone from her face. He raised his eyebrows at her. She pointed to his coffee cup.
“Eight sugars? Are you five?”
“At heart, maybe,” Atlas said, giving her a lopsided grin. He ran a hand through his dark hair, standing it on end. The din of noise from the diner was almost comforting; chattering people, clinking plates and the sizzle of cooking food as it was plopped down on the long grill. Atlas let it wash over him for a moment. Helene was warm beside him, staring out of the window. Her thoughts had carried outside of the Colony, he knew, out in the desert and down into the canyons. He bumped her shoulder lightly, bringing her attention back to him. She blinked at him and he had the bizarre urge to lean in. She broke away first, stabbing a finger onto the menu.
“The pancakes are good,” she blurted and then drew her hand back quickly. Atlas grinned at the side of her face that he could see.
“Pancakes it is, then.”
Their plates arrived, piping hot and topped with oily butter. Atlas drowned his pancakes in syrup, while Helene slathered hers in grape jelly. Atlas wrinkled his nose and she flicked a bite of pancake at him. He dodged it.
“For synth food,” he said appreciatively around a bite of pancake, “these aren't half bad.”
“They’re not synth,” said Helene. “They’re the only food on the menu that’s made from scratch. It’s their specialty.”
Atlas nodded appreciatively, taking another bite. He watched Helene out of the corner of his eye and every once in a while she would glance out of the window, a lost look on her face.
“Helene, look at me,” she raised her eyebrows at the command but did as he asked, staring at him, expectant. “Listen, I’m sorry about your mom and dad. And I’m sorry you basically had to go through it again earlier.”
“It’s just,” she started, haltingly. “Dr. Lee took me in, you know? He was my parent’s friend and then after, he was like a father. But out there, it was different. Almost like he didn’t care; like they meant nothing to him.”
“Yeah, I understand.” Atlas said, and then remembered something. “You didn’t happen to get a good look at those soil specimens, did you?”
“No, when I got back to the lab, they were stored in a locked refrigerator. Why?”
“I was serious about knowing what I’m transporting,” Atlas said, dropping his fork down onto his plate. “I think it’s odd that the Colony has kept this a secret for so long and I’d like to know why.”
A blur of dark colors slid into the booth across from them and Atlas looked up in surprise at Axel, sitting uncomfortably in the booth, watching the exits.
“This isn’t really your scene, is it big guy?” Atlas said.
Axel took a drink of the coffee that the waitress placed down in front of him and shook his head when she inquired about cream and sugar.
“Have you seen Grace?”
Atlas shook his head at him but the sergeant was looking at Helene.
“She left our quarters early this morning to work the hangar bay so she’s probably still out there.”
“No, she’s not,” called a familiar voice behind them. Grace was wearing a thick, grey sweater over what looked like her work pants and her Hangar Bay pullover. She made her way through the small crowd by the booths and slid in as close to she could to Axel. He held himself rigid next to her, a strange contrast to her languid poise. “So, when do you leave, big brother?”
Atlas glanced sidelong at Helene and shook his head. “When those samples are ready, we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Isn’t there any way you can stay just a little longer?” Grace said, pouting like she had when they were kids and she had failed to get what she wanted. She and the sergeant ordered a soy burger and chili cheese fries, respectively.
“It’s an assignment, Grace. I’m- we’re not here on vacation.” He replied, looking at Axel.
Grace sighed and turned to the man beside her, “so why didn’t I get a bodyguard?”
“You can have mine,” Atlas dead-panned.
“Your father believes Atlas is more likely to find trouble, and I agree.”
“Sarge, you wounded me,” Atlas cried, long-sufferingly. Their food arrived while the others were distracted with their plates, he turned to Helene. “Are you going to tell them?” Atlas said, under his breath.
Helene nodded and cleared her throat. Both Axel and Grace stared at her expectantly.
“Grace, are you aware that the scientists are conducting secret studies on the planet?”
“What kind of studies?” Grace asked, pulling a fry covered in cheese from her plate with a fork.
“Well, I’m not sure.” Helene looked to Atlas then.
“I was asked to join them on their mission this morning-”
“No, you weren’t,” Sarge interrupted dryly and Grace snorted. Atlas ignored him.
“- and as we were nearing the destination, Helene and I realized we weren’t heading to the dunes but instead, out into the canyons.” Atlas finished.
“I don’t think we should worry about this,” Sarge said, taking a big bite of his burger. “It’s none of our business how the researchers spend their time.”
Helene looked affronted, “I am a researcher so it is my business.”
“Yeah,” Atlas agreed. “And I’m researcher-adjacent so it’s my business too.”
“Maybe it’s nothing, Johnny,” Grace said around a yawn. There were more people crowding slowly into the diner, waiting on an empty booth.
“Maybe,” Atlas conceded. “But I don’t like being surprised.”
“We should go,” the sergeant said. He swiped his payment chip over the slot and then and pushed his plate in front of him, finishing his coffee. Grace shook her head.
“I’m only half-finished with my fries!”
“I’ll stay with you, Gracie,” Helene said, giving her a smile. Atlas brushed Helene’s shoulder as he slid out of the booth and she brushed her fingers over his in silent thanks.
Atlas looked back at them both chatting animatedly as Axel led the way out of the diner, and felt an ache in his chest, like longing. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Atlas missed the cafe as soon as they left, feeling bereft in the long, empty corridors. It took only a moment to reach their quarters and the sergeant slid his keycard over the access panel quietly. The inside of their room looked barely inhabited, though Axel’s bed didn’t even look slept in.
“I thought you came back here last night?”
“Some of us actually make up our beds,” Axel said, looking pointedly at Atlas’ clothes scattered over his own bed and the blanket skewed though he had barely slept at all.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Atlas said, “I'm just gonna get back in it anyway.”
Axel ignored him, packing away his things in the big bag he had brought. Atlas started stuffing his
clothes into his rucksack haphazardly. He wondered if the samples were ready yet and then an idea began to form in his mind.
“You know what?” Atlas said. He didn’t wait for the sergeant to answer him or to even look up. “What if those samples never reached the Alliance headquarters? What if I-”
“Kept them? No, Atlas,” Axel had stopped packing and was staring intensely at him. “You have an assignment.”
“They lied,” Atlas countered. “To Helene and me. No- it’s decided. We’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning, to the moon base, and then on to Earth to find someone trustworthy who can tell us what those specimens really are.”
Atlas knew the sergeant didn’t agree, but he wasn’t about to let the samples just fall into the hands of the Alliance, and his father, when he had no idea what the cost might be.
Before Axel could argue, Atlas threw his rucksack on the bed and left the room, headed in the direction of the labs. He would make sure the samples were completed and have one of the workers pack them away in his ship. Atlas knew what he was risking by taking them, but not knowing meant more to him than anything else.
Chapter Seven: The Emily Randall
T he morning dawned bright and cold and Atlas stuffed himself into three, thick coats while they waited inside the hangar deck. The noise from the other pilots, starting their ships, was deafening and Atlas struggled to hear what Grace was saying.
“You’ll be cleared to leave in a few minutes,” he thought she said. “Dad will be waiting for you on Earth, he wants to see the soil samples himself, before anyone else.”
“Of course he does,” Atlas replied, rolling his eyes.
Grace looked disappointed. “Johnny, you should give him more credit. He’s not as bad as you think.”
Atlas decided he wouldn't remind her of all of the times she should’ve gotten in trouble with their father, but didn’t, because he assumed whatever it was had been Atlas’s doing. He remembered watching her receive her very first shiny, new ship, before she even knew how to pilot it, while Atlas had been older and stuck on the ground, scraping up every last bit of money to afford a used clunker.
