Precipice: The Beginning (7 page)

13

T
he darkness began to play with his mind. Shadows moving within the dark, looking like people passing by when he knew no one was there. Travis supposed their station’s psychologist would say his mind was trying to cope with the isolation, something that sounded smart and involved several long words. Travis rolled onto his back and looked up, assuming there was an up. Fifteen days had passed. He’d counted the number of times they brought him food, once in the morning and then again at night, thirty meals total. Travis has spilt his food numerous times, reaching out without sight, knocking over the glass of water with misguided fingers. He’d finished his breakfast about an hour ago, his clothes caked with fallen food and his fingers sticky.

The door to his cell opened, pushing back the dark interior with the blinding halogens from the hall. Travis rolled onto his side and shielded his vision, instantly harboring a massive headache.

“We need you to drive a loader.”

Travis recognized Alvin’s voice. “Would you ask such a task of a blind man?” Travis smiled, not yet daring to turn toward the light. Black, silver and white swirls filled his vision, dancing about each other like fish in a bowl that’s far too small.

“Well if it were up to Andrews I wouldn’t be asking you at all. But I pointed out that you hold a class four rating on operating the loader. Therefore you don’t have a choice.” Alvin couldn’t keep the pleasantness from his voice, but it was short lived. Seeing Travis on the floor like some kind of POW brought a sick taste to his stomach.

Travis rolled onto his back, letting his arms fall limply to the side. He let out a grunt as he moved into a seated position, his eyes still tightly shut. Slowly, like a sensitive skinned man easing into a hot tub, he opened them. The white blur took shape, focusing in on the man waiting patiently in the hallway. The expression on Alvin’s face was one of compassion.

“Do I look that bad?” Travis joked, holding out his hands to Alvin.

“Not your best, that’s for damn sure.” Alvin stepped into the small cell and took his hands, pulling until Travis stood. He kept a tight grip on his arms as it looked like his legs may buckle, but they held.

“Pins and needles.” Travis pounded a fist into his thigh, wincing from the sleeping numbness as it faded. “You’d think your legs would have the decency of staying awake with the rest of your body. But no, they have to be all special.” Travis released Alvin’s hands to grip the wall. He looked up into the corner of the cell and saw the small camera. He didn’t want Alvin’s generosity and good spirits to drive a wedge between him and the other guards, thus removing the only kind man in authority from their presence. “Thank you.”

“Sorry about this,” Alvin frowned, shaking his head at the sight or Travis’ pain. “Afraid we don’t really have a choice when it comes to severity.”

“Yeah. I heard you get your balls cut off if you miss the toilet.” Travis pushed off the wall, feeling confident in his stance.

Travis stepped out into the hall, taking a moment to enjoy the recycled air, that familiar stale aroma drifting up his nostrils. The hall light filled the cell and showed the messes made from inmates past. Blood and feces stained the four walls. Filthy words written in uneven sizes and spacing from blind authors. Travis shook his head at the smeared food he’d left behind, embarrassed by the many puddles of urine at the base of the toilet, but it was clear by the stained floor that he hadn’t been the first messy inmate.

The cells for solitary confinement were synonymous with the name, located at the farthest corner of the facility, opposite of the living quarters. The basic idea was to keep it as quiet and dark as possible. As if they didn’t already feel completely alone and isolated being trapped in a massive structure on a distant planet. Travis walked slightly ahead of Alvin, providing the cameras all throughout the facility the impression that he was being transferred rather than accompanied.

“They don’t have audio do they?” Travis motioned to a camera as they passed beneath it.

“No, these ones don’t. Only the solitary cells, living quarters and public rooms.” Alvin let out a small laugh. “Not that any of us actually watch them that closely.”

“What about Christina’s living quarters? Who’s watching that footage?”

“Not us,” Alvin answered quickly, wanting to smooth over any possible discomfort. “It was decided by home office that Christina’s video feed should only be accessible by Dr. Hoffman for psychological evaluation.”

“That sounds decent enough,” Travis stated, knowing it was better than having that creep Andrews drooling over her as she slept. Christina, just like the rest of his unit, was there solely because of the deal he’d made. So therefore it was his duty to make sure all of them were taken care of and protected. That included Sean Jefferies. Hence the reason he could not bring himself to turn him in for a get out of jail free card. “What about Sean?”

“Sean…” Alvin shook his head. “That little pisser is one angry bastard.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware.”

“He was released three days ago.”

“Before me?” Travis was caught off guard, wondering if maybe he’d heard him wrong.

“Afraid so. Andrews thinks you’re very dangerous.” Alvin gave him a wink.

They stopped before the elevator doors at the end of the hall. Alvin swiped his security badge and entered the four-digit code, the last four of his social security number. He’d been told not to pick such an obvious code, but he felt his credit score would be secure enough out here on the red rock.

“Who designed the landing platform?” Travis asked as they stepped into the elevator.

“Someone that never had to visit,” Alvin said with a hint of envy.

The elevator only went up and down between two floors, taking them from the main level of the facility to the only sublevel that led to the landing platform. The elevator doors opened and they stepped out into a small room called the “staging room.” The wall ahead of them was floor to ceiling glass, very thick. Beyond the glass wall was an enormous hangar measuring the length of two football fields. Sealed off from the atmosphere of Mars by two of the largest steel doors Travis had ever seen. The kind of doors you might expect to see in some kind of fantasy movie where a large monster is released upon the village below. A red light began pulsing through the hangar’s interior, accompanied by an ear piercing alarm.

“Couldn’t they have gone that extra step and made this room soundproof?” Travis clasped his hands to his ears.

“That would have made too much sense,” Alvin yelled, covering his own ears. “Besides, what if one of our many blind miners were to wander down here and couldn’t see the light?” Alvin didn’t know if Travis heard him or not over the excruciating and annoyingly repetitious siren, but he laughed anyway.

The large doors slowly slid along the wall, exposing the darkness of the canyon. The opposite wall could faintly be seen if you were close enough to the large doors to squint. A metallic bang ripped through the cavernous interior of the hangar as the doors stopped. A moment passed and the bottom of the ship came into view, bobbing up and down like a tree branch in a storm. Then the entire vessel became visible, cautiously maneuvered through the opening that was slightly larger. Travis couldn’t see the faces of the men in the control room located directly above them, all of them looking down from a similar room made of glass, their faces assumedly tense and sweaty as they auto-piloted the heavy beast in safely. Any damage to the outer hull could cause damage beyond their abilities to fix and might prevent take off. Or worse, cause the contents inside to shift and possibly break, things they needed here and now on the facility and it would take far too long to wait for a new shipment. The ground trembled as the large ship set down, the vibration tingling the bottoms of their feet.

“We have touchdown,” Alvin announced with relief.

The large metal doors of the hangar slid shut, rumbling closed like a hungry giant’s stomach. The doors connected and hissed with a rush of air. The red light and the siren shut down.

“Room has been sealed.” Alvin opened the door to their left and entered the hangar, approaching the loaders set up against the wall. “You’re up cowboy.”

There were five loaders standing stiff and alert like five robotic soldiers. They were of equal size and shape, all of them eight feet tall with the ability to lift two tons; each with a thick reinforced steel outer frame controlled by a single operator, securely fastened inside the machines center.

“I would think you’d know how to operate one of these bad boys.” Travis stepped onto the steel arm of the loader and pulled himself into the seat located dead center of the machine. He strapped himself in with the thick harness and powered it up. “One of these babies could do some damage.” Travis raised his arm, thus lifting the mechanical arm of the loader to mimic his movement, and waved to Andrews in the control room.

“He could shut you down with the kill switch, you know that right?” Alvin smiled, not wanting to look up at Andrews but dying to see the annoyance across his face. “Or if he really wanted to, he could open the outer door and have us sucked out into the canyon. So long Charlie!” Alvin’s good humor faltered as the thought struck up some bad visuals.

“What egghead decided to put the hangar in the side of the canyon wall and not on the surface? You know, let the ship come straight down and then lower it in or something.”

“Not that I can speak for all eggheads, but I think it was decided that with all the sandstorms it would be safer to drop the ship into the canyon to cut down on the wind resistance. To avoid crashes or having the ship topple over.”

“You really think a gust of wind could knock this puppy over? That’s like a mosquito ramming a brontosaurus.” Travis pressed his thumb to the ignition, pausing a brief moment for his thumbprint to be accepted by the loader’s control consul. The loader hummed loudly, stepping forward in synch with Travis’ feet. Travis looked down to Alvin as he walked beside him, feeling like a parent walking his toddler to school due to the difference in size. Travis stopped as two security personnel operating loaders entered the ship, exiting a moment later with crates secured between their loader’s hands.

Travis left Alvin behind and stepped up the long ramp to the ship’s upper cargo hold. This was the smallest of the two, still able hold over three hundred crates of supplies and atmospheric equipment. Many times he’d wondered why they would pack the ship to the gills and make one long trip rather than waste the fuel. Morgan had stated that it was most likely a security measure. Six months worth of supplies meant that if a group of miners went insane they couldn’t hold up for three years and completely destroy the place. If everything is reported as ship shape then they get the next six months worth. Checks and balances set up by home office. Travis figured that was as good of an explanation as any.

Very cautiously, Travis reached out with his giant arms and gently gripped the first crates by the sides with the rubber fingertips. The crate lifted into the air as if it were made of feathers. With his first load secured between his powerful grip, Travis stomped down the ramp and set the crate on the transport shuttle. It looked like a golf cart pulling a flat wagon, but it got the job done.

14

R
onald and Lori Anderson had been planning this fabulous family vacation since their first child had been born. Ben was now six years old and his little brother Jonas was three. Their friends thought it would be a waste of time taking a small child like Jonas to Disneyland. “He won’t remember a thing,” Jillian had told Lori. But then again, everything Jillian told Lori was in the negative. Jillian had been their neighbor for eight years, introducing herself the minute they exited the moving van, telling them all the downfalls of living in Cleveland. Lori took it with a grain of salt, just glad to have someone to talk to. She’d left her friends and family behind in New York for this big opportunity of Ron’s. Pack it up and move it out. One minute they had their shit together, the next they were packing up their cozy apartment on the East side, the one her best friend Veronica had described as a “cottage on the thirtieth floor,” then they’re driving halfway across the country because Ron got offered a director position in a billing office. So she’d said yes, leaving her close and comfortable life behind to meet Jillian and the rest of the old shills on their block. The first few years were impossible, mixed with depressing loneliness and intense fighting. They were on the verge of a divorce when she’d been blessed with Ben. Life, for a while, had been wonderful.

Lori spent the next few years living for her son, filling her long and lonely days at the park or at the mall. Ron was working fifty to sixty hour weeks and they never saw each other. Lori began to sink back into a deep depression. Her thirty-three year old body moving from perky to soft, wrinkles caused by stress began to form around her mouth and eyes. Then came the announcement of a second child. Lori would admit this to no one, not even herself, but Jonas wasn’t wanted. She knew it would only prolong the inevitable split between her and Ron. But when she’d seen his sweet face for the first time her troubles were once again put on hold. Her depression stuffed in the diaper bag until she could find a moment to herself to revisit it.

Now they had finally pulled together as the family they’d always pretended to be and drove across the country to California. The children had been excited the entire trip, despite the long hours they’d been cooped up in the backseat. They had their portable video players and their communication units, holographic game consul and 3D-Wand to keep them busy. Lori and Ron mostly sat in silence, asking each other every so often if they needed to pull over and switch seats. This wasn’t the trip for confrontation or yelling, not when they were stuck together for days with the children sitting behind them. So they drove on in silence and played nice; both of them letting out a long sigh of relief when they’d reached the park.

That had been five days ago and it had been a wonderful time. Lori now sat in the passenger seat with the window down, taking a long sniff of the California air. The smell of the coast made her happy. They had departed Disneyland to spend three days at the ocean. The kids had never seen a real ocean before. Not one with tide pools and warm sand. But surprisingly their trip, weather wise at least, has slightly soured on their third day. Dark clouds had rolled in and turned from a sad grey to pure black. They’d remained above them, like a black cloth thrown over a bird’s cage. Thankfully no rain—until this moment.

“Figures,” Lori sighed, sticking her hand out the window to catch the big drops.

“The beach will still be beautiful,” Ron said with a little more pep to his step than normal. He knew his usual comments would only take away from their family fun, so he pushed himself. This trip was not about him. “I bet they’ll have tons of starfish in the tide pools.” Ron looked up into the rearview, smiling at two boys that were not paying attention. Ron turned back to the road, forcing a smile.

They sat in silence as they drove through the Laguna Beach Canyon, looking up at the rich houses sprinkled along the hillside.

“Do you know how many of those fall from mudslides?” Lori stated, nodding as if they’d all answered in unison.

“Or to fire.” Ron looked back to the rearview. “Every year there are fires in this canyon.”

“Why don’t they just move?” Ben asked, never taking his attention away from his 3D-Wand. He was currently playing against his friend Simon. Holding a flute-like instrument in his hands while two holographic figures fought each other in mid air.

“I guess it’s worth the risk to live in such a sought after place.”

“Pretty stupid,” Ben said absently, trying to set up a punch-kick combination.

Ron didn’t approve of the word stupid, but he nodded in agreement. He himself didn’t feel too sorry for the people that always settled down in the most dangerous places. Lessons to be learned from those that perished so long ago in the city of Pompeii. Still, they sure had some lovely homes.

Ron exited the canyon and took them along the beach, parking in a lot a few blocks from the ocean. He figured it was worth the walk if it saved them money. The entire walk from the car to the beach Ron had expected several digs from Lori about how cheap he was, but she’d kept quiet. Maybe this trip was what they needed. Like a refresher course on why they’d gotten married in the first place.

“What’s going on, dad?” Ben asked, standing on his tiptoes at the crosswalk to try and see over the large group of onlookers standing shoulder to shoulder on the sidewalk, looking motionless toward the ocean.

Ron just shook his head. He took hold of Jonas’ hand and hurried across the street, pulling them through the crowd. Ron’s face took on the same stunned expression of the other onlookers as he stepped onto the sand, looking out at an endless stretch of damp earth. He’d forgotten about the rain as he stood there.

“Where’s the ocean?” Jonas asked with his voice small.

“I don’t know.” Ron shook his head.

Police sirens were closing the distance, some units driving down the sand. Lifeguards were standing all over the beach, looking down at thousands of dead fish and other marine life as they flopped helplessly on the shore.

“Look daddy!” Jonas pointed off to their left. “It’s a whale.”

Ron saw the great beast in the distance, laying there in pain.

“What is this? Pollution or the moon?” Lori placed a hand to her mouth.

“God only knows.”