Long: Well, something must be at work here; that is, unless my eyes deceive me.
Ghent: I suppose that this is probably a result of the combination of higher carbon dioxide levels in the air, and the constant water condensation that seems to be covering everything. Maybe, the soil has some nutritive value after all. The biggest problem is nitrogen; there must be some bacteria in the soil, introduced mechanically before the first team’s arrival.
Lawrence: Alright, I will let you two figure it all out while I go and take a look around those buildings over there.
Cardiff: What happened here? Nothing appears out of place, except the fact that there is not a soul in sight.
Lawrence, please locate the control center within the complex over there and see what you can find out. Dr. Ghent, go with him. Keep your eyes open over there; we cannot know where the first expedition is, or in what mental state they are in. They may be quite surprised to see anyone else, so just be cautious. Maybe knock first, Mr. Lawrence.
Lawrence: Right. Okay, grab that light and let’s go see what there is to see over there.
Long: This place looks pristine, home away from home.
While the presence of plant life inside the dome is indicative of oxygen in the air, no chances are taken before removing helmets. Captain Cardiff holds out her hand in a beckoning manner. A flare is handed over to her from one of the supply chests. With a quick tap of the flare against her thigh a bright green flame appears. The fact that the flare is burning confirms to her that the air within the dome contains enough oxygen to breathe.
Cardiff: Alright, it looks good. Remove your helmets.
Long: Wonderful! I have needed to scratch my nose all morning. You never have to scratch anything until you can’t reach it.
Mendez: That’s the truth.
Droplets of rain fall from the ceiling of the dome, where the water has been collecting. The faint light from the sun, broken into the varying colors of the rainbow by the glass dome, pass through the droplets as they fall. Grasses and vines cover the majority of the red Martian clay within the dome. The air has an odd, yet sweet smell and a familiar organic flavor.
The pathway becomes damp and even slightly soggy with the invading rain as the team makes their way up the path. Mendez, Long and Cardiff finish making the initial survey of the dome and then start the journey along the barren path from the airlock to the complex plaza. The sound of boots treading in damp sand has a regular pattern that becomes almost distracting for the team as they approach the first building on their right, the laboratory. Doctor Long pulls away from the path and approaches the door of the lab.
With helmet in hand, Long reaches for the door with his other hand. The stark darkness within seems to paralyze him as he can see it through a small crack of the ajar door. Skittishly, he withdraws his outstretched hand and steps backwards for a few steps until he is clear of the doorway.
Cardiff: What did you see Doctor?
Long: Uh, nothing really. The power must be out; I don’t see a light on anywhere.
Mendez watches Long’s intent facial expression as he squints to view the other doorways that have become visible by their arrival at the base of the plaza. His sudden wince draws her attention along the line of sight that he appears to be fixated upon.
Mendez: What did you see? I can’t see anything.
Long remains fixated upon the cracked opening of the doorway to the utility building, barely visible from the bottom of the plaza, where they are standing. Mendez cocks her head to the side to get a better look at Long’s entranced face.
Cardiff: What’s wrong!?… Long! What are you staring at?
Long shakes his head back and forth slightly to break his motionless gaze. He reaches for his forehead and presses in on his temples with his gloved fingers.
Mendez: Seriously, what’s…?
Long: I’m fine. I am just tired, that’s all.
Cardiff: Doctor Long, I need you to retrieve our gear that we left back at the airlock and join us in the mess hall. We seem to have lost the day in riding out here. Can you handle that?
Long: Sounds good Captain.
The day has passed slowly, but the end of the day has crept into thought. Cardiff still has a list of things that she wants to have taken care of before nightfall. As Long begins his trek back to the airlock doorway, the exterior lighting on some of the buildings begin to light up automatically.
His feet shuffle down the damp, yet dusty path. Long stops for a brief moment to look up at the ceiling of the dome. The reflection of the lights up on the ceiling is a sight unlike anything Long has seen before. As he continues walking up the path, all while looking out on the illusory sights around him, a small wooden object is kicked out from underneath his boot.
The small object tumbles along the surface of the sand and dust, until it comes to a stop a couple of meters in front of Long. He slowly approaches it. Long’s eyes squint in disbelief, and he warily picks up the item from the ground. Faded paint and chipped edges adorn the familiar object. He rubs his glove along the small wooden derby car. “How’d this get here?”
Long removes his glove, and rubs his bare hand along the roughly sanded surface. As his fingers touch the car, droplets of water continue to fall around him from the ceiling above. The sound of raindrops, splashing into the dusty ground, is the only sound that he can hear.
Movement out in the distance quickly draws his attention toward the airlock, where he had been instructed to go. The cloudy glass of the dome’s shell reveals an odd figure’s shadow moving slowly outside. The silhouette is very difficult to make out through the glass as it is only projected onto the wall from the outside by the fading light of the sun.
The pounding of his heart preoccupies his mind. His bare hand clutches at the small item, given to him long ago. A flash of light blinds him and his eyelids shut tightly. The car drops, as if in slow motion, to the dust from whence it had been picked up moments earlier. Long’s body limply falls to the ground in a similar manner; the light gravity pulls him slowly to the ground. His limp body stiffens suddenly, the rigidity of his muscles hold him captive on the ground. Gasping for air, Long struggles to remain conscious; bright flashing lights obscure everything else from view around him. He manages to roll himself over onto his back; the rigidity of his chest and stomach muscles precludes the stale air inside his lungs from escaping. Sensation fades from his mind slowly as he feels his conscious mind slipping into the nether reaches of the mind. A shadow approaches out of the corner of his eye.
The rest of the team has become preoccupied with locating their personal quarters within the dormitory. The inner hallway lighting had all come on with the setting of the sun several minutes earlier. Cardiff makes her way into the control room, and turns on the environmental monitoring systems and controls. “Oxygen levels are sufficient to support life. Pressure is sufficient to support life. Humidity is 83%” the system announces after system checks finish. The radio affixed in her suit picks up a loud, crackling static noise. She responds over the radio.
Cardiff: Long, are you back with the supplies? Where are you? Come in Doctor Zachary Long.
A disconcerting silence is the only thing that is heard back over the radio, broken up by the occasional bit of static. Cardiff waits a moment longer before she repeats her call over the radio. A throaty-sounding response is given a moment later. Cardiff cannot understand who, or what is speaking, and she certainly cannot understand what is being said.
Unknown: Ad fidens vida, ad metus vex.
Cardiff: Long… Come in Doctor Zachary Long… Mr. Lawrence, locate Long and help him get the equipment back here; do it now please.
Lawrence: Right.
Chapter 3
Year 15, Day 36
The luminescent stars above give the dust-laden ceiling of the dome a curious glow. Thousands of dust storms have coated the exterior of the dome in a light powder that gives the dome a uniformly lit feel under starlight. Under this dim light, Lawrence ma
kes his way over to the main airlock in a quick, yet cautious manner. He finds the gear, it is still where it was left earlier in the day, and there is no sign of Doctor Zachary Long anywhere.
Lawrence: Long! Where did you get off to?!
The recently fallen rain droplets have congealed in the Martian dust underfoot as he wanders up the path in search of the missing man. As he follows the meandering pathway, he stops in his tracks as a single oddity comes into view. A single dry patch, untouched by the rain, lay in front of him, about a meter off of the pathway. A deep reflexive breath fills his lungs, his eyes dilate and his heart jumps up into his throat as he looks just beyond the dry patch of dirt.
The wet dust on the other side of the patch reveals two deep lines in the dust; it appears as though there had been a body dragged out of the way. Lawrence looks left to right around the shadow-filled dome. His eyes return to the cryptic markings in the dust; the path seems to fade after a couple of meters without another clue. A flickering light fifteen meters ahead captures his vigilance, and he moves quickly up the pathway toward the source.
A lone glass panel, adjacent to the door, illuminates the otherwise dark corner of the dome. The small, handsized plate of glass protruding from the shell of the dome serves as a control for the airlock. Lawrence places his right hand on the pane, the control lights up brightly to confirm the request to open the door. He puts his glove on his hand, followed shortly by the locking of his helmet to the shoulders on his blue pressure suit. The door grinds open. The door stops moving just as Lawrence finishes suiting up to go outside.
A single flickering light, mounted on the ceiling in the airlock is the only means to see within its sealed interior. The inner door closes behind him. Following the routine flush of air out of the airlock, Lawrence takes a step out onto the starlit sand. Lawrence looks up; the stars shine brightly, with so much intensity that for a split-second Lawrence feels as if were looking out the window on the freighter into the vast void of empty space. He squeezes his eyes shut for a brief second to refresh his perception.
A small rock tumbles down the hillside to his left. “Long!”, Lawrence pulls his lamp from his belt. With a flick of his wrist, the lamp is focused upon the hill. The faint light is scattered along the hillside searching for the source of the movement. Rocks cast faint moving shadows along the hill as the light moves back and forth. Lawrence dashes up the hillside, careful to avoid the jagged rocks that could snag and rip his airtight suit. His lamp rushes left, and then right in his frantic search. Shadows of stealthy movement, barely visible along the edges of his light, taunt him as he pushes the light further and further out.
Lawrence stops before he ascends farther up the hill. A cold silence regains its hold on the hillside. He looks up the hill, he then looks over toward the dome, and then down the road. A single glowing ember slowly drifts down from somewhere above him, like a burning snow flake. The ember settles directly in front of Lawrence. The glowing orange color captures his attention completely as it comes to rest upon the large rock directly in front of him. The faint light pouring from the burning ember stands out against the stark black of the world around. “What the…”, Lawrence looks directly above him; only a star-filled sky can be seen above.
When he returns his curious gaze to the ember, which was lying upon the rock, there is no sign of the once hot ember anywhere. The cold night must have claimed the warmth of the ember, and laid waste to the solitary burning trace. A thin, cold breeze drifts down the hillside; grains of sand dance down the rugged decline, and slowly collect upon his boots.
Lawrence turns to find Long standing at an arm’s-length behind him. The brightly shining stars above reflect off of Long’s smooth visor; his face is clearly visible from behind this façade of night. His eyes are expressionless; his face is without conviction or elation.
Lawrence: So, what are you up to? Sight-seeing? Get it together and help me move the gear. Cardiff is waiting and could not get a hold of you on the radio… What have you been doing out here?
Long: Lawrence, we really ought to slow down and enjoy the beautiful night out here. I mean, have you ever seen the stars so bright?
Lawrence: Uh, yes. They were about that bright all of the way to here. Are you feeling okay?
Long: When you imagine the final moments of your life, what do you see?
Lawrence: Okay, you should just go back inside, and I will go ahead and get the gear myself. You definitely need to go and see Mendez.
Long: I always thought that I would end up living a little longer, but I guess everyone has to pay the piper at some point.
Lawrence: I already know that I am going to regret asking you this, but what are you talking about Long? Did you just find out life - changing news or something?
Long: Shadows from the past call out to us.
Lawrence: I don’t follow.
Long: In the end, what do your ambitions amount to in this life?
Lawrence: Did you get hit in the head? Why are you worried about dying all of a sudden? You didn’t cry this much all of the way out here, why start now?
Long draws a single sliver of glass from his utility pocket. The small shard, while shrouded in darkness, is ostentatious nonetheless. Lawrence squints to view the odd item that Long has retrieved; the shard is clearly covered in dried blood.
Long: She told me that you had unresolved penance. I am to use this shard of glass to puncture your suit.
Lawrence: What?! Who are you talking about?!
Long: I have never seen her before; she just told me to tear your pressure suit with this.
Lawrence: When? Before we left?
Long: No, about ten minutes ago.
Lawrence: I have no idea where you got that, or to whom you are referring to, but I will take that.
Long: Apparently, you must have blood on your hands.
Lawrence grabs Long’s arm as he tucks the shard away in his utility pocket. He holds Long’s arm tightly as he walks him down the hillside. The lights within the airlock begin to glow as the outer door opens slowly to allow them in. Flickering light surges out through the open doorway into the dark of night. Lawrence pushes Long in through the opened door as Lawrence holds his iron grasp on Long’s arm. Lawrence pauses only momentarily, a glimpse of motion to his right distracts him yet again. The absence of light outside the airlock, and the bright light within, work to obscure his view of the worn figure standing about ten meters away from the airlock. The figure does not move, and Lawrence leans his head forward, squinting, to ascertain the identity of the individual standing out in the darkness. With his free hand, he points his lamp out at the figure. Lawrence’s eyebrows crinkle in disbelief as the small embroidered lettering on the figure’s chest come into slight focus, “Lawrence”.
Lawrence: Impossible!
Long: What are you looking at? Is there someone out there?
Lawrence: Uh, no. Come on, we have a job to…um…
Long: Do?
Lawrence darts his head slightly to the right even further as he looks upon small rocks sliding down the hill behind the figure. Another smaller figure stands out in the darkness; while the presence of the figure is alarming, the stillness in which it stands on the hill is a relief as well. A quick survey of the dark hillside suggests to Lawrence that there are at least fifteen more figures standing out in the darkness, watching him. Could they simply be rocks?
Lawrence pushes on Long’s arm again as his attention remains fixed upon the dark figures. As he turns back to Long and steps inside the airlock, he can feel the weight of eyes staring at the back of his head. With his free hand he presses the airlock control, located inside the airlock, and the outer door begins to shut behind him. After the door seals behind him, Lawrence stands looking at one button on the control, “Lock”. Instinctively, he presses the button; the sound of pressurized air rushing into the airlock almost masks the sound of hands as they brush against the outside of the door behind him.
Long: So, Lawrence, who
do you think you will see just before you die?
Lawrence: Why would you bring that up?! I don’t want to hear anything else out of your mouth for the rest of the night.
A slight smirk on Long’s face appears as he twists his helmet off before going through the inner door. Long leaves Lawrence at the airlock as he makes his way to the plaza. Lawrence removes his own helmet and holds it between his hip and his arm next to him. The faint sound of banging at the outer door disrupts the silent thoughts of insanity and confusion racing through his mind.
Chapter 4
Heavy steel doors swing on their decrepit hinges, worn and rusted by the moist air. Cardiff searches each room in the dormitory, one at a time. All are furnished identically; a sink and a mirror sit on the wall adjacent to the door. The small bunk lay along the opposite wall with a footlocker underneath. A small hanging closet sits along the interior wall of each unit and a single window adorns the opposite wall. Plainly painted and decorated, each is white in color from ceiling to the masonry floor.
Deeper Into the Void Page 4
