Cardiff: Sleeping on the job, huh?
Long jumps up out of his seat as he turns quickly to look at Cardiff. She stands in the open doorway, looking at him with her arms folded. His fist rushes up to mask his mouth as he coughs violently. His eyes become blood-shot from the massive force of the incessant coughing. The dry coughs are completely unsatisfactory to him and provide him no relief from the pervasive burning in his lungs and throat.
Cardiff: What is wrong with you? Do you need a drink or something?!
Long looks up at her through his excruciated eyes and can only nod as he leans on his other arm for support. Long stumbles to the floor as Cardiff rushes out the door to get him a drink. What seems like minutes pass as Long suffers through his tortuous coughing spell on the floor. Cardiff finally returns with a glass of water, and helps him to the seated position on the floor. With a vigor unmatched, he presses the glass to his lips. The thick taste of smoke washes away in the cleansing water. His itchy throat finds a small measure of relief in the drink.
Long removes the glass from his lips as he gasps for the cleansing air within the control room. The sound of boots running down the short hallway does not even distract Long from his focused breathing. Ghent enters the room, slightly short of breath, and makes a simple statement through his breaths, “The pond is at least 110 meters deep!”
Long hears none of this announcement, and quite frankly appears to be unfazed by Ghent’s presence at all. His eyes look at the wall behind the control computer. Terror and confusion fill every ounce of his body as he looks on at the ashen pile of wood that was once the toy car.
Dust swirls up from under the rolling wheels of the heavy rig as it slows its approach to the airlock. The red dust continues to swirl up into the air as boots kick it around. Lawrence and Mendez walk to the outer door of the airlock together. No discussion, no small talk; Mendez holds the old and heavily worn glass tablet that they had retrieved from the old ship. Lawrence stands outside the closed airlock door. His palm rests on the heavy metal door as he looks down at the small print on the door below his hand. Three streaks of what looks like dried blood appear as blemishes upon the heavy metal door. Mendez walks up to his left, and watches his careful study of the door.
Mendez: Is something wrong with the door?
Lawrence: I wonder where this bit of blood came from. Out here it would be difficult to get blood out of your suit without it evaporating or without dying in the process.
Mendez: Blood?
Lawrence: Yeah, this bit on the door here.
Mendez: Uh, the door is clean. I don’t see anything on the door at all, including blood. Are you okay?
Lawrence returns his gaze from Mendez to the door in front of him. His puzzled expression illustrates to Mendez that he can no longer see the blemish upon the door.
Lawrence: Hardly, our solar rig goes missing; there are skeletons in the closet everywhere you look around here. It is almost surreal.
Mendez: I don’t know about skeletons in the closets, mine was empty.
Lawrence: I guess I should just be grateful you’re not asking me about my childhood right now or something.
Mendez: Would you like me to?
Lawrence presses the control and the door begins to open before them. After a moment of repressurizing in the airlock, Mendez places her gloved hand on Lawrence’s shoulder. “I am sorry for your loss; you know that”, Mendez’s smile shines through her mask as she addresses the dejected Lawrence. The inner airlock door begins to groan as it slides away from the opening to the airlock. Doctor Mendez removes her helmet with her free hand and slowly walks over the door threshold. Lawrence remains in the airlock for another moment or so.
Mendez: I don’t know about you, but I am curious to see what might be on this tablet here. Let’s go, I am sure that the control center will have an interface for this thing.
Hesitantly, Lawrence steps over the threshold and joins Mendez as she starts up the pathway to the control center. The outer door to the control center is wide open as they approach the control center. Long, sitting on the floor, looks up from his fixation and looks upon the old tablet in Mendez’s hand. Cardiff looks on at the discovery and beckons for the relic with an extended hand. Mendez carefully hands it over to her. Cardiff sets it on the control panel in front of her.
The lights on the control panel change color, and a notice appears next to the tablet on the control panel, “Retrieving data”. Ghent leans away from the wall, where he had been for several minutes now, and looks on at the results of the retrieval with great anticipation. Only one file appears on the screen in front of Cardiff, she presses her finger upon the glass to start the video recording.
VIDEO LOG
CHARLES WINTERS
Well, it is official; everyone here has lost their minds. Hansen is still reciting the same thing over and over, “deeper, deeper, deeper”. He hasn’t eaten in days and just sits, staring out into the pond as if he is waiting for a long lost friend to appear out of it. James has become completely fixated upon the new planet that he found and is actually outside right now looking though his telescope at it. Yesterday, the Captain ventured out into a sandstorm and was nearly lost into a gaping hole in the wild desolate plain.
Our communications are still not working, the solar flares are apparently disrupting our radio transmissions back to Earth; either that or they are receiving our messages and we just can’t hear a response. This morning was colder than normal and the dome began to fill up with water vapor. We were besieged by a dense fog that you could not even see a meter out in.
My dreams have become difficult to bear; the others seem to have the same problem because no one is sleeping much at all anymore. The compulsion to drift down into the depths of the pond is almost overwhelming. “Deeper into the void”, the quiet voices press into my mind over and over and over again, always with a different end, “deeper into the void you will find solace”, “deeper into the void you will find a way”, and it just keeps going like that.
It seems that while here on Mars, each of us is on a separate quest. What drives us to our foolish desires and ends? I fear that no reason or want for reason will save us from ourselves now. As for my plans for the future, I am going to get that shuttle working and get off of the cursed rock. No one seems to want to leave at the moment, despite what has been happening.
The sun betrays us here in this forsaken place. Doors within the mind are opened and our sanity flees into the night. I know that this sounds crazy, but I feel as though someone is here and unseen, watchful and cunning. Deeper into the void of the mind we venture.
–Log End–
The simple, curious expressions on display as the video began to play, have now changed into that of fear and amazement; this is the first any of them have seen this type of message from the first expedition.
Chapter 7
Year 15 Day 38
Another sunrise crests over the behemoth Olympus, illuminating the dome, proliferating it with an awe-inspiring visual spectacle within. Vibrant violet, brazen blue, enchanting emerald, ostentatious orange and raging red all pierce the air within, covering each rock, each blade of grass and every leaf within the dome. The emboldening light paints a tantalizing backdrop for an otherwise simple morning meeting.
Apprehension crafts Long’s posture as he sits on the long bench in the mess hall. Cardiff is pacing back and forth as she recaps the events of the previous day and summarizes the day’s planned events. Malevolence enlists his secretive subconscious as images of tragic ends play out in his mind incessantly. The alternating colors shining into his eyes through the window at the back of the room each stir within him; his thoughts tune to the changing color and his eyes flinch with the flashing light as it passes through the window.
Seated next to him on the bench is Mendez, the slight twitching that she can observe through the veiled corner of her ever-watchful eye draws her attention away from the discussion. A glimpse of Long’s inner struggle is seen f
or a moment before he clenches his eyes closed. His nervous thumbs, rubbing tensely against his forefingers in tight fists, reveal the torment within.
Long’s focus wavers as he feels a hand on his shoulder. Momentarily, the thoughts that vie for his mind withdraw and leave him in peace. “Breathe Doctor Long.”
Cardiff: Doctor Long, you have been tasked with collecting samples higher up on the slopes. I am not comfortable with you going alone, so Lawrence is going with you to make sure it all goes according to plan.
Lawrence: Why don’t you send the shrink with him? It seems to me that someone qualified in babysitting crazy people should be out there with him. I have already had to subdue him once.
Mendez: I don’t babysit crazy people… Not that I think that you are crazy or anything Doctor Long.
Long: Lawrence, don’t worry, I am just as excited as you are to be going out together.
Cardiff bends over and retrieves an item from next to the counter. She holds it in her hands and gestures to it.
Cardiff: If you have a problem with your assignment, then go ahead and file some paperwork with the complaint department.
Long: You are holding a garbage can.
Lawrence: That is the whole point genius… Fine, I’ll go, but if he tries anything crazy, then I am leaving him out there.
Cardiff: Sounds great. Doctor Ghent, you have work to finish with your biological samples. I see that you are busy typing your daily entry, so when you finish, you can get to work, alright? Doctor Mendez, you and I are going to be reviewing some of the old footage from the first mission.
Ghent finishes tapping the clear glass tablet. He sets the clear glass tablet down on the table. He places his hands at rest on either side of the tablet. He shakes his head briefly and then taps the tablet a couple more times; he had forgotten to submit the entry.
Cardiff: You do know that those type for you? You don’t need to do the typing.
Ghent: Yeah, I guess I am just old fashioned like that.
Cardiff: As long as it gets done, I guess. You submitted it, so go ahead and get back to your samples.
Ghent: Oh, I ought to proofread it before I transmit it back home.
Ghent hurriedly grasps the tablet with both hands and holds it in front of his face to get a good angle to read it.
Journal Entry
Doctor William Ghent
Year 15, Day 38
If the worth of the venture can be based solely upon its difficulty, then it could be said that ours is a worthy one. We have come to find ourselves as aliens on this planet. We have only found one of the bodies from the former expedition, poor fellow. We have only been on the surface of Mars for a couple of days and I can already see a difference in the mannerisms of the rest of the crew. Aside from Mr. Lawrence’s short fuse, it seems as though his sense of humor might save him from the madness that fills the air like the morning fog.
Any general conversation had with him is noteworthy as he has a certain flare for the dramatic; not to mention that he has a tendency toward sarcasm. While his juvenile attitude clearly irritates the others, it also makes simple encounters with him light and boisterous. I do not mind his lack of general propriety or his general lack of respect of others; if he stops making jokes, and if he gets very serious, then I know that we are in trouble. Anyway, he makes for a nice alternative to the “all business” approach that is more common here. I suppose that day to day tasks are a matter of life and death, but I do not necessarily agree that the absence of humor in the process is requisite.
I have found my time here to be peaceful, the sun shines here all day, and the water is calm. I found the absence of mosquitos to be quite pleasant; I am used to swatting at them as they try to bite me. Sometimes it is too peaceful. There is no animal noise to be heard because they have not been introduced into the biosphere yet. The wind can be heard howling outside the dome occasionally, but it is peaceful and tranquil inside. While lying awake in my bunk at night, the sound of absolute silence can be heard; dead silence is a most uneasy sound. It is almost difficult to exist under such circumstances, having such a plain backdrop as we have. Having spent my entire life on Earth, I am accustomed to something making noise, crickets and birds, anything; here there is no such noise. The only sound in the night is the atmospheric compressor as it runs occasionally to maintain the right pressure.
On the occasions that I have taken to venture outside of the airlock, the horizon is flat almost all of the way around. Since we are at the base of the largest volcano in the galaxy, the curvature of the planet precludes many of the distant sites from view, even much of the volcano itself. I have thought it would be awe-inspiring to ascend to the top, just to look all the way around. Doctor Long has informed me that I would only be able to see the other side of the caldera at the summit. He also advised against it because at that altitude I would literally be standing in space, who would have thought?
Doctor Long is quite anxious to get his opportunity to venture deeper into the volcano to be able to collect samples. I really do not share his desire to venture down into the depths of Mars, so far away from the sustaining life within the dome, but I guess that this is why I am here as the biologist, and not the geologist.
Long seems pleasant enough, he is certainly vexed by some unknown malice. I respect the work that he has done to get himself this far, but I still feel as though he might be too young for the stresses of this mission. I cannot really understand the nature of his struggle, but I hope that whatever it is, that it will be over sooner than later. I hope that if the day comes that my continued existence rests squarely upon Doctor Long’s judgment then he will be of sound enough mind to save me. One cannot live in a place such as this, without having complete confidence in those around him or her.
I am hoping that the recruiting that Badlands had done for this mission is appropriate for our task here. I cannot help but to wonder if I have been sent all this way with fools. If I did indeed come all this way with fools, then I suppose that this makes our sojourn a fool’s errand; what does that make me then?
I do suppose, however, that when there is not enough information, a foolish person will think that they are wise enough to know what to do; conversely, a wise person will realize that he or she lacks the knowledge and will proceed cautiously. To know that one does not know everything is the purest wisdom; on this note I will submit that I do not know everything that I need to know while here, and I will be willing to yield to the expertise of the others from time to time.
As for what I know, I have collected a variety of differing samples from flora within the dome and some species of freshwater algae that can be found in the large pond. I am about to take these to the laboratory building here to see if all of the necessary equipment is in good working order. If the equipment is not in good condition, then my task here will be less interesting and much more difficult. Once I have determined that the plant life here is similar enough to what exists back on Earth, then I will set up the colonies of ants and bees to advance the ecosystem here.
The garden variety plants have not produced any yields because there is nothing to pollinate them, so hopefully the introduction of apis mellifera, or honey bees, will be able to progress according to the plan.
–End of Entry–
Cardiff: Alright, Doctor Mendez, you are with me.
Cardiff walks past the four crew members that are still seated on the bench. Her brazen glare catches each in the eyes as she walks past them. Mendez slaps her left hand on the table, and stands up and follows Cardiff as she exits into the hallway.
Mendez: The logs that we have already seen seem to indicate aversion and animosity among some of the crew. The source of this ill-will and anxiety is difficult for me to understand.
Cardiff: Everything that I watched before we arrived seems to have painted a pleasant and peaceful existence. I don’t understand it. Why is there such a stark difference between the video logs that I saw on Earth and the ones that we just saw yesterday
? Were they pre-screened so that we wouldn’t see anything that would dissuade us from coming?
Mendez: That is certainly a possibility. What interests me the most are these dreams that everyone seems to be talking about in their logs. If dreams are a window into the subconscious, what is it that you can see through this cracked window? They seem to be agitated and very nervous, but they never mention, or even allude to anything specific, which might be causing it. “They” and “it” are the only references that I have seen.
Cardiff: It makes me wonder what else has been withheld from us. It just seems odd that all of a sudden we stopped hearing from the team. Usually, the messages sent before would allude to something out of the ordinary.
The two round the corner, leading up into the control center. As Cardiff touches the clear glass control panel outside the control center, the door unlocks. After several steps down the hallway into the control room, Cardiff ushers Mendez to get comfortable in one of the two chairs. Cardiff reaches to the control panel and touches the next video log listing on the computer screen. The logs are displayed in groups of twenty on the screen, arranged in five columns and four rows. There appears to be about twenty screens worth of them overall. The current log comes up with the name David James. After only a brief second the video launches on the larger projection screen above.
Deeper Into the Void Page 7
