Cardiff: Mr. Hansen, wow we really need to address this issue of yours with personal hygiene. I know that you are on Mars and everything, but your beard is so patchy.
Okay, here we go.
Mendez: Finally, this should be good.
Eyes of green appear as if to protrude from the glass, sharp and perceptive. After a moment of continued pause, the image begins to move.
Video Log
Year 11, Day 173
Hansen
The weeks of isolation on this world are definitely starting to have an odd effect upon everyone here. You are probably curious about what is happening around here. Well Doctor Mendez, you will see soon enough I think.
–End of Log–
Mendez: Did he just address me by name?
Cardiff: Oh good, you heard it too. It doesn’t seem possible though. He couldn’t have known what we were going to be reviewing his video, unless they knew that they were going to be disappearing.
Mendez: I was also added to the mission roster at the last minute, long after this was recorded. It just can’t be.
Cardiff: The computer is probably trying to dissuade us from accessing certain files by altering the original versions.
Mendez slowly sinks back into her chair, remaining completely fixated on the freeze-frame image of Hansen at the end of the clip. Cardiff holds her hands in front of her, with her elbows resting on the arm rests in her chair. Her fingers are clasped together in a contemplative fashion, revealing her depth in thought.
Mendez: So, what is it that we will be seeing, soon enough? What does that mean?
Cardiff: The best preparation is worthless if we don’t know what it is that we will be facing, or are facing.
Mendez: Accounts in these logs are only partially accurate, it is apparent that there are some problems with observation; hallucinations, delusions are a possibility that we have to consider when weighing what it is that we know.
Cardiff: Why don’t we take a look at the surveillance footage to see what was going on the day that Hansen logged that video? Please pull up the CCTV, so we can access the older footage.
With a few quick movements along the glass dashboard, Mendez pulls up the array of 22 cameras hidden within the dome, and outside looking outward. The small thumbnail versions of the video sit displayed on the dashboard panel in front of Mendez, awaiting the press of a finger to enlarge on the large monitor.
Instead of pulling the video for a single camera, Mendez selects them all to view on the large screen above. Cameras numbered 1 through 15 cover the various buildings within the dome, and the other areas as seen from the ceiling of the dome.
Mendez: Looks like number 12 is out of order, nothing is appearing on that screen.
Cardiff: That is not what is out of order. Take a look at 2.
Mendez quickly taps the feed from camera 2 and a video of the mess hall pulls up on the main screen.
Mendez: Okay, who are they? Is that the first expedition?
Cardiff: I know the first expedition; those men are not with the first expedition; they aren’t with us either.
The oddity of which Cardiff is referring to is the three figures, all seated at the bench in the mess hall. All of them are dressed in the grey mission jumpsuits. Every suit looks like the standard issue with the company logo on it, yet all of the letters on the name patches are mixed up. Jovial conversation seems to be the theme under which the figures are meeting.
Laughter and animated conversation take place for a moment as the two women study the image. Each of the figures is sitting at the table, both hands in front of them. The mug that one is holding drops to the floor and shatters. More surprising than this spectacle to the two women observers is that not a single eye followed the mug in its sure descent to the floor. As if cued, they stop conversing and begin to look up toward the camera that is watching them carefully.
Their gazes seem to be concentrated on those watching them, as if to look at the viewers, themselves, through the camera. The feeling one gets when they lock eyes with someone else, this same feeling pierces them both to the core. An overwhelming desire to remain clandestine combined with a terrible feeling of exposure rushes through every nerve in their bodies, right to their very fingertips.
Confusion and disarray flee before them as panic and terror take the recently vacated places in their hearts. Cardiff manages to utter a single question in the unfolding trepidation.
Cardiff: Is this feed still live, or have you accessed older footage?
Mendez: The timestamp shows this is a live feed. Look at that!
Cardiff: It’s displaying the current time. This can’t be live feed… it must be a system glitch. Switch to number 5 please.
The feed switches over to a section of the garden. The tomatoes, celery, carrots are all growing larger, and are distinguishable from a distance now. Oddly, in this particular feed there are four more people in jumpsuits working in the garden with tools.
Mendez: This is all just a bad dream. I’m going to wake up from this…
Cardiff: Pull yourself together! Look.
A moment after the feed was switched to show this scene, the people in the feed all stop working. They slowly turn around to look at the camera and stare blankly into it, just as the three in the mess hall had. All of the names printed on the patches are indistinguishable, just like the three before.
Mendez: This cannot be. I am just imaging this; it is all in my head. These people are not real; they are just a figment of my overworked mind.
Cardiff: You can tell yourself that, but I can see them too, so what are the odds that both of us are crazy enough to see the same exact thing at the same exact time?
Cardiff turns to the shelf behind the opened vault-like door. On the top shelf a single black polymer case sits. She reaches for it with haste; the case slides off of the shelf and is laid on the simple table in the middle of the room. With a touch of her bare finger against the latch, the case trim-work illuminates in blue.
The lid on the case pops open, still requiring Cardiff to open it all the way. Mendez sits in her chair watching her captain with great anticipation. Inside the case, a fitted foam bed cradles a matte black pistol and three shiny magazines.
Cardiff: Over the years I have been disappointed more times than I would like to admit. Ol’ five-seven has seen to it that these disappointments never go unanswered.
Mendez: Right… the old five-seven… Did you really think that you were going to be running into a hostile force out here or something?
I am just saying that if we are delusional, then carrying a loaded weapon may not be the best idea.
Cardiff: Relax Doctor; I know what I’m doing.
Mendez: You might know what you are doing, but the terrifying fact is that you might not understand why.
Cardiff reaches into the case and retrieves the polymer semi-automatic pistol from its resting place. The slide is locked back and the magazine well is empty. She carefully points it at the floor next to the door as she checks the weapon. She reaches for a loaded magazine and carefully slides it into the well. A distinctive click noise sounds out the proper loading. She depresses the slide stop lever, pulling a round into the chamber.
Cardiff: Get ready for this. It’s about to get real.
Mendez: As opposed to make believe?! What do you want me to do?!
Cardiff: Where is Ghent right now?
Mendez: He looked absolutely terrible when I saw him about an hour ago. I told him to go back to his dorm and get some sleep. Are there cameras in there?
Cardiff: Nope, just the hallway.
Mendez quickly switches to the feed covering the hallway in the dormitory. Ghent’s door is closed, after a few moments of looking into an empty windowed hallway through the video feed, the door to his room opens slowly. A single bloodied hand reaches through the opened door and comes into the view of the camera, followed shortly by a foot and leg.
Mendez: Ghent must be badly hurt. We need to find a way to ge
t past those others to get to him. How do they know that we are watching them anyway? Is there a light that comes on when the camera is being viewed remotely?
Cardiff: No, they don’t have any lights; no one is supposed to know that they are even installed at all. I am pulling all of them up again; they cannot possibly be in each one at the same time, can they?
The video screen is again subdivided into the 22-paned window that summarizes the feed from of all of them. Mendez’s eyes blaze past one onto the next. Every single feed has at least one or two figures actively engaged in something; that is until they all turn in unison to look through the cameras at them. Mendez can feel the gaze of every single eye that rests upon her through the screen. About twenty seconds pass as Mendez is reconciling her own perceptions with what she knows cannot possibly be.
Camera 10, which monitors the laboratory building, is the next to be blown up onto the main screen above. Mendez covers her mouth in surprise and disgust. Long is bent over looking through the microscope, and Lawrence is standing next to him, bending over as if to be able to see whatever Long is looking at.
Two figures enter the camera view from the bottom of the screen. Cardiff rushes forward out of her chair, and presses the announcement button on the console and yells into the microphone in front of her: “Heads up Lawrence! There are two guys right behind you”. Lawrence is quick to turn around. He is greeted promptly by a strange liquid tossed onto him by the figure on the right.
Lawrence drops to his knees and frantically rubs his eyes, obviously trying to clear his stinging eyes. Long looks up from his microscope to see his confederate’s commotion. The other figure quickly bounds over the table in the center of the room. An oversized plastic bag is produced from the figure’s right pocket and flung over Long’s head as he tries to assist his fallen comrade. A simple tug on the bag and Long writhes in panic as it goes tight around his neck.
Lawrence gets up from his crumpled position on the floor and rushes over to where Long stands with his head in a bag. The figure on the right quickly produces a lighter from his pocket. It is ignited and flung toward Lawrence. He never saw what was coming at him from behind as he erupts into a violent blaze. His flailing arms and legs knock the equipment off of the counters around the room.
Mendez misses the final scene as it unfolds on the screen in front of her, her hands cover her eyes tightly as if she were a small child. Long’s arms finally drop to his sides as he goes limp from the brutally delivered asphyxiation. Flame and cinder claim Lawrence, he flails one last time. He falls to the ground at Long’s side as he succumbs to the intense burning.
The figures, which are standing over their victims, turn and look up at the camera. A maniacal smile grows on their faces and they dash out of the door. The security footage returns to the split-screen arrangement on the overhead screen.
They watch each figure in every single feed begin to walk in the direction of the control room, where they are currently sitting. Mendez rushes to the door control. She presses on the door controls and the door begins to slide shut. The movement of the heavy door, and the motor driving it almost mask the unmistakable sound of footsteps as they clamor into the hallway just five meters away.
Cardiff draws her weapon. She adjusts her hold on the weapon while holding it tactically; she points it through the doorway as the door finally shuts and seals. The heavy metal levers that secure the door find their resting spots, giving off a heavy “thud” sound in unison.
The sound of steps outside the door prompts Cardiff to return her loaded weapon to its outstretched place. She pulls her left hand up to cradle her other hand, steadying it. Mendez stands just behind Cardiff as the sound of the air-tight seal breaking reverberates through the small room. The door begins its automated inward opening sequence.
A single, muscle-bound arm is flung through the widening crack of the heavy door. The individual, to whom the arm belongs, pushes frantically to get the door open posthaste. Cardiff draws in a quick breath through her flared nostrils and calmly squeezes the trigger. Just before the firing pin strikes the round in the chamber, a flailing hand swings away from the door and strikes the gun from the side.
A bright flash explodes out of the muzzle, following a single bullet as it spins out of the barrel. The small room seems to amplify the thunderous detonation. Mendez pulls her hands to her ears in a reflexive effort to calm the pain within. The whizzing fury of the bullet whips past a left ear and presses into the masonry wall in the hallway behind him. Fragments of stone and cement erupt from the craterous hole in the wall.
A terrified Lawrence stands in the doorway with his hand on Cardiff’s gun. He has enough sense to push the barrel up away from his head just after the slide recoils and reloads the weapon. His wide-eyed, slack-jawed gaze tells all. After a brief second, Cardiff presses the magazine release, sending the magazine in a free-fall toward the floor.
Lawrence: Don’t forget the one in the chamber, Captain!
Cardiff: Sorry about that Mr. Lawrence. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that unannounced.
Lawrence: Seriously?! I… What are you doing with a gun out here?! You just shot at me! Who’d you expect to see on the other side of that door? Oh, better yet, why would you shoot them?!
Cardiff: I guess it is a bad case of nerves or something.
Lawrence: Okay, you two, I think monster-piece theatre is over. You two have been cooped up in here a little too long I think. We heard you screaming over the PA, I thought you were in trouble in here. I guess it was really I that was in trouble, huh?
Mendez: Well, I think you are right about that one. I need to get out of here and get some fresh air. Come along Captain.
Lawrence: I think I will take that, thank you very much!
With his hand still wrapped over the barrel of the gun, Lawrence pulls the gun in closer at his side. The barrel is still pointed away from him as he prevents another close call. Long peers in through the doorway from his sheltered position in the hallway. He slowly turns his head to view the round lodged in the wall to the right of the door.
Long: Lawrence, I didn’t think you had it in you to be all serious like that. I think I like the other you better.
Lawrence: Amusing. Don’t ask for something if you don’t really want it. Maybe I’ll shoot you next and you can lecture me on how to behave then.
Long: I am only joking with you, relax.
Lawrence: Just got shot at! Not going to just relax! You relax!
Long: Hey! I didn’t shoot you! Why are you taking it out on me?!
Cardiff: I didn’t shoot him! I accidentally shot at him, that’s all.
Lawrence: I feel much better now. There are enough near accidents around here without livening things up with an awesome gun like this one.
Long: Hey! Let’s just get out of here, we should go and finish our site exploration, you know, the one we started yesterday.
Lawrence: Sounds good Long. Mendez, don’t let the captain get into any more trouble while I’m gone. I don’t want to have to come back here.
Long: Hate to dwell on technicalities, but we are going to have to come back here at some point if we want to continue to breathe.
Lawrence: Is this what it is like to talk to me? Wisecracks and stupid comments every two seconds?
Cardiff: Well, in a word, yes.
Lawrence: You can’t say anything, you just shot at me. Anyway, now I know why I don’t have any friends. Mendez, you can stop crying now, I didn’t get shot… I am a little deaf in my left ear, but I’ll live.
Mendez: Wasn’t crying.
Lawrence: Maybe you should have been. It is your job to make sure that crazy people don’t shoot other people with their gun, right?
Long starts walking back down the hallway, his bag of gear in hand. Lawrence starts to walk out as well, except that he walks backward to avoid turning his back on Cardiff and Mendez. He points at his eyes with two fingers and then points the same two fingers at Cardiff. He follows that gestur
e by mouthing: “watching you”. After stepping free of the plaza, Lawrence turns and jogs to catch up with Long as they head for the oxygen processor.
Lawrence: This place really sucks, I have only been here a couple of days, you almost killed me and now she is shooting at me. At this rate I won’t live through the day.
Long: Well, you never know what might happen out there. It is a wild and desolate place, you might just be right.
Deeper Into the Void Page 11
