Deeper Into the Void (7 page)

Chapter 7

Year 15 Day 38

A
nother 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 for 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 bends over and retrieves an item from next to the counter. She holds it in her hands and gestures to it.

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.

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 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.

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.

Video Log
David James
Year 11, Day 97

Last night was another interesting night. I have had that dream again, and yet again I woke up, fully dressed in my pressure suit outside the dome; I found myself on the hill overlooking the dome. The odd thing is that I continue to find myself waking up in this spot. I have not found rest in my nightly attempt at sleep, despite the sedative that I have been taking.

I am concerned that the things that I have started to see are a result of my own sleep deprivation. As concerning as that is, it pales in comparison to the prospect that they might just be real. I have not spoken with any of the other members of the crew, the last thing I need to impede the mission here with the focus on my own problems.

I am still coping outwardly, and when the others ask why I am outside each morning I simply respond by telling them that I enjoy watching the sunrise unimpeded by the glass dome.

Today we are venturing out on the rig to search for mineral deposits down one of the local volcanic tubes. We shall see how fruitful this day proves to be despite my fatigue and unrest.

–End Entry–

A flash of light, emitted from the main screen, interrupts Doctor Mendez midsentence. The image on the screen begins to rewind from the ending frame. Cardiff looks down at her hands, and at Mendez’s; no hands are even close to the control pane. Without warning, the message begins to play from the middle of the video log. The figure in the video begins to move in the sequence, yet the words that he is saying do not appear to be coming out of his mouth, just as a poorly voiced over movie would look.

“Ad fidens vida, ad metus vex”, the video rewinds a few seconds and plays the same exact audio clip over again. After the third time, the video sequence pauses, and the face on the screen is paused as it looks out at those sitting dumbfounded in their chairs. Cardiff cocks her head slightly as she squints her eyes; her eyes seem to meet the eyes looking back at her through the screen. Mendez looks over at Cardiff, and her puzzled expression seems to mirror that of Cardiff’s as she looks back. The same bright flash of light signals the end of the anomaly that has sent the two deep into thought.

Outside the control room the plaza is quiet and tranquil. Doctor Ghent has finished collecting the rest of the samples, and his khaki canvas bag is filled with glass vials. He walks up toward the laboratory building. This time, upon entering he notices the light outside the door to the laboratory; the light has been shattered and the wall it is mounted on has a prominent crack running several centimeters down the wall from the light. The only thought currently in Ghent’s mind is a simple one: “What could cause such damage, and why?”

As Ghent continues through the entryway into the lab, he grabs a white coat hanging up on the wall, and swings it around his back to put it on. The remaining lights power on as he continues to step into the laboratory. The lab is properly setup for such an endeavor as he is currently set upon. The walls, ceiling, counters and even the floor are all back-lit by lights, providing a clean-looking and well-lit study area.

The lab reminds Ghent of the mess hall, minus the casual setting and the windows. The ceiling is made of frosted glass, meant to diffuse the intense lighting projected through it by the well-placed array of lighting arranged above it. The walls are also made of frosted glass, but are adorned with several blue glass control panels meant to provide an adaptive interface with the equipment lined up along the benches that surround the room. The only portal to the unrefined world outside is the heavy door at the end of the room, which he had entered through.

Lights arranged underneath the counters shine brightly down upon the floor, lending the floor the appearance of being back-lit, just like the ceiling and the walls. The room is filled with a variety of computer controlled instruments. This building certainly must have cost the company as much as it must have spent on all of the other buildings combined. Ghent studies the different machines as he walks through the room, most of them he has used at the university laboratory, some he has never seen before.

With samples in hand, Ghent drops one into the microscope. Putting his eye to the lens, Ghent looks first at the sample of algae that he had collected from the pond. Everything appears to be normal at first observation. What strikes Ghent as odd, though, is the rate at which the algae are reproducing under the intense light in the microscope. With a simple voice command, Ghent initiates a new audio entry into the computer.

Upon examination of the specimen in the microscope, Ghent notices that it too, is changing color. Ghent stands hunched over, staring into the microscope, taking photographs for the file. The vial upon the table begins to wobble, until it finally tips over. The containment lid on the vial slips off. The algae and water mixture spill out of the vial. The spilt liquid now begins to run toward the side of the table where Ghent now stands hunched over, completely unaware of the spilled water. Ghent moves the sample slightly with his right hand, and returns his hand to its resting place on the table.

He stands up straight, and looks at the palm of his hand with great interest. The sensation of liquid on his hand completely took Ghent by surprise. After a moment of the cool sensation, the liquid begins to burn his skin. He immediately turns to the sink. With an intensity that he has not experienced in recent years, Ghent scrubs the liquid off of his hand. Soap is added twice during the wash to cleanse his hand of the invasive water mixture. “Ouch!”, his hands are red and swollen from the vigorous washing.

Ghent grabs the heavy gloves from under the table and puts them on to prevent any further contact with the liquid on his skin. Ghent is truly baffled, amazed and disgusted, all at the same time, about the discovery he has just made about the algae. He resumes the audio log.

Ghent once again peers over the microscope and begins photographing the changing pigmentation. Behind him, the door becomes ajar, quietly at first and then the hinges give up their stealthy movement. The creaking of the door causes his heart to race, and his head to remain absolutely motionless, as if to blend into the background if there were something at the door.

He draws in a quick breath, his pupils dilate and his heart resonates in his ears. The vial in his other hand is suddenly freed from his grip, and embarks on its treacherous journey that ends with a shattering upon the floor.

The heavy door slams shut with an ear piercing thud that Ghent can feel in his ribcage. Ghent is still drawing himself back and away from the microscope, turning his head toward the door as if nothing else mattered in that millisecond. Ghent can see that the light inside the entry way now flickers as if it were damaged. The hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand on end, and chills set in upon his skin. An unfamiliar voice sounds plainly behind him, sounding as if someone were speaking directly into his ear. The feeling of a warm breath on the back of his neck paralyzes his every muscle.

As quickly as it had come, it had also ceased. Ghent remains completely motionless in his voluntary paralysis; the prospect of what he might find behind him in the back of the room is crippling. After several quiet moments, Ghent slowly turns around; his heart is still pounding in his throat. There is no one, nor anything behind him that was not there when he entered the room. A stark white room is all that lay before him. Ghent issues a voice command to have the computer repeat his audio log.

The computer complies with the voice command and begins to repeat his vocal transcript back to him. The audio file ends with a crash of glass upon the floor. His fingers and toes are icy cold and his vision somewhat blurred from the unverifiable discourse. Ghent turns to reach for the nearest control panel on the wall in an attempt to recall other video and infra-red heat signatures that are constantly monitored. The control panel closest to him flickers and the steam of breath begins to form on the glass surface. A simple hand-print becomes readily visible as it seems to be free from water vapor condensation on the glass.

Inside his mind the words spoken into his ear begin to play again, drowning out the internal mental discourse of his other thoughts. He places his right hand firmly upon the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes; focus does not reward him with the intended result: clarity of thought.