The Ethics of Silence

by C. J. Nash

  “Okay. So, I take a few souvenirs back with me. What happens to the rest of the furnishings?”

  “Mars is a closed system. We recycle.”

  “You recycle?”

  “Yeah. Another tourist buys them at a ridiculously inflated price.”

  “And I’m paying the tourist rate.”

  “Of course, you are. And you are buying lots of stuff.”

  “Of course, I am.”

  “Well, not too much. I want your apartment tastefully decorated. After all, I’m planning on staying there for a month or two, and I don’t like living in any place that’s cluttered.”

  When the new furnishings were delivered later that day, Mason had to admit that the transformation was a vast improvement.

  ****

  Mason awoke early the next morning. He prepared two large omelets before rapping on Janet’s door. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Breakfast is ready.”

  In less than a minute, Janet padded barefoot into the kitchen. When she spied the omelets, she sniffed the air. “Smells delicious. Aren’t you having anything?”

  “One of these is supposed to be mine. But if you are hungry enough to eat them both, I can make me another.”

  “Oh. Just one for me?” Janet pouted and then the pout transformed into a smile. “Well that’s okay. I’ll just pick up a snack on the way.”

  “On the way to the morgue?”

  “We can’t go to the morgue today. Today is Sunday. I don’t work on Sunday, remember? Umm. This omelet is delicious.”

  Mason ticked off the days on his fingers. It was indeed Sunday. “Okay, no morgue today. Where are we going?”

  “Back to the farm. I want to soak up some sunshine and maybe do some reading—and relax. I really need to just lie down in the grass and relax. Are you going to eat all of your omelet?”

  “Do you want half? And should I pack a picnic?”

  Janet answered the first question by taking a knife to Mason’s breakfast and slicing it into unequal portions, the larger of which she slid onto her own plate. “Don’t bother packing lunch; we can pick up something on the way.”

  “Along with a snack to complete your breakfast?”

  “Of course.”

  ****

  The Farmer met them at the entrance to the farm. “I’ve got something I want to show you,” he said. He led them to the grassy meadow and then onward to the far end of the meadow. He pointed. A few meters beyond the grass was a very large hole with steeply slanted sides.

  “That is one big hole!” Mason pointed out the obvious.

  “Yeah,” the Farmer agreed. “That is one big hole. An entire year in the making, give or take.

  “A year?” Mason questioned. “That’s impossible. We were here just a week ago and there was no hole there.”

  “Oh, it was here. We just had a building over it. Started dismantling the building Monday morning. Just finished yesterday.”

  “That’s right. There was a building there. Why did you have a building covering this hole?”

  “The building was an airlock. You can’t just go around digging holes inside the colony. All the air would escape. We built this really big airlock and cut through the polymer floor. Then we started digging. It was all done with robots. Not a person inside the building until the new floor was poured.”

  “And you did this in a year?”

  “Local year. About two Earth years.”

  Mason pointed to the bottom of the pit. “Why are the bottom and the sides of the hole different colors?”

  “The bottom is made from the original polymer, the stuff Earth sent us when they were first setting up the colony. We cut it out and rolled it up before we started digging. The sides are made from a polymer that we developed using vegetable oils and chicken fat. The NAU made it clear that they would not send us any more of the polymer. They don’t want us to be able to expand the colony further. So we created our own. It’s not as pretty as what they sent us, but it is every bit as airtight and durable.”

  “Okay, you’ve got a really big hole. What’s it for?”

  “Apple trees, Johnnie.”

  Mason squinted at the hole. “I don’t get it. Why do you need a hole that deep to plant apple trees?”

  The Farmer laughed. “Roots. We’ve got to have room for the roots. Now that we’ve got our hole, we will build a support structure at the bottom. We want it tall enough for a maintenance person to walk around underneath the apple trees. We’ll have a system of pumping stations down there. When we water the trees, the excess will have to be recycled. On top of the structure will be a permeable membrane—a membrane that will allow water to get through and still hold back the soil. Then we fill it with Martian soil and plant our apple trees.”

  “I had no idea that it would be that complicated to plant a few apple trees. I had just pictured you planting the seeds in the grass.”

  Eddie shook his head. “Not deep enough for a healthy root system. But once the trees are established, we’ll be planting grass around them. Not much sense in having shade trees if you don’t have grass under them for people to play on.”

  “How long before you’re ready to plant the trees?”

  “I estimate that we will have all this ready in about six months. But we won’t be planting seeds. We will grow the trees in a nursery until this area is ready to plant. In fact, some of the seeds are already beginning to sprout. Can’t show you them, though. Totally climate controlled environment. Not letting anything happen to my apple trees.”

  “How long until you actually have apples on the trees?”

  “I figure about three years—well, six Earth years. But we’ll have to get some honey bees here before then. There are other insects that could pollinate the flowers, but honeybees are the best solution.”

  “How will you get the bees?”

  “Already worked out a deal to get them here.” The Farmer pointed to where Janet had set up their picnic and was sitting in the grass, reading. “Miss Edwards likes you, you know.”

  “What?”

  “Miss Edwards. Her first thought is always what is best for the colony. But she is lonely. She was married when she joined the colony, but she cancelled the contract immediately upon arrival. Just as well, I guess—he went to the farm shortly afterward.”

  “Went to the farm?” Mason questioned.

  “Polite way of saying that he died. Eventually, everybody goes to the farm to be recycled. Anyway, he went to the farm and Janet never remarried. I don’t think that she has ever seriously dated. Just not enough men to go around.”

  “Well, I like Janet—Miss Edwards, but…”

  “I just don’t want to see her get too attached to you. You are going to be on the next ship that lifts and she can’t go with you—and you can’t stay. And don’t get some romantic notion that, when you get back to Earth, you are going to convince the NAU to change the rules and allow you to join the colony. It ain’t going to happen.”

  “Okay. I get the message. I like her a lot, too. And I would never do anything to hurt her.”

  “Good enough, Johnnie. I’ve got to get back to work. Enjoy your picnic.”

  Mason joined Janet and picked up his notepad with the intention of reading.

  Janet set her notepad aside. “What were you two talking about?”

  “That big hole where he’s going to plant the apple trees. And honeybees.”

  “And me?”

  “Yeah, and you.”

  “What about me?”

  “Essentially, he wants me to keep our relationship on a business level. I guess that he’s afraid that I’ll try to seduce you and then leave on the next flight for home.”

  “Were you planning on trying to seduce me?”

  “Well, to be honest, the thought has crossed my mind. But the Farmer makes a good point.”

  “Does he not think that I can take care of myself?”

  “I think he just worries about you and doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

&
nbsp; “The Farmer worries about everything. It’s his job, really. He has to worry about the air and the water and the plants and the grass and the chickens. And he worries that some virus might mutate and wipe out the crops or the chickens or the colonists. He worries about the genetics not being diverse enough to sustain the colony for the next hundred years. And he worries about the colony thousands of years in the future. So yes, he worries about me. But I can take care of myself. I like the relationship we have, you and me. Just don’t get emotionally attached; I’m not going to. And I’ll let you know if you cross the line.”

  “He said that you were…He said that you always put the colony first.”

  “I’m sure he did. But that wasn’t what you were about to say. What did he say?”

  “Nothing, really.”

  “Tell me. What did he say?”

  Barely audibly Mason answered, “He said that you were lonely.”

  Janet’s laughter was stopped short when she clutched her bruised ribs. “How can I be lonely? I’m the governor’s personal assistant. Until I was given the job of accompanying you during your investigation, I had to deal with dozens of people every day.”

  “I thought you said that the governor wasn’t busy.”

  “He’s not busy. I handled most of the problems that people brought to his office. That was my job. Now the governor has to do all that. I bet he wishes he had never assigned me to you.”

  “Like you.”

  “What?”

  “Like you, wish he hadn’t forced you to babysit me.”

  “No, Mason. At first I thought that it was a real shit assignment, but I was wrong. Most people that come here from Earth are real assholes, but not you. You’re nice. I like talking to you. But before you came, was I lonely? I didn’t have time to be lonely.”

  “Then the Farmer was mistaken.”

  “Well maybe sometimes at the end of the day, when I watch a sad movie, alone in my apartment. Or there might be times when I sit in the restaurant with no one sitting across from me—someone that I can tell about my day. Or Sundays, sitting alone on the grass, watching families talking and laughing and playing together. Maybe sometimes I am lonely, but not often.”

  Mason could think of nothing to say and so he said nothing. He sat beside Janet and put his arm around her shoulder. He kissed her forehead. They sat in silence enjoying the warmth of the sun that always shines on Sunday. With the grass and the sun and the woman at his side, Mason wanted the day to never end.

  Chapter 10

  SCENE OF THE CRIME

  Monday morning. Janet looked up from her notepad. “Okay, Dr. Robert Norton said that he will meet us at the morgue at around thirteen hundred.”

  Mason glanced up. “I thought you said his name was Tony.”

  “I thought that Tony would be there but he wasn’t assigned to morgue duty when Mr. Echols was killed. Dr. Norton was. Too bad, too. Tony is easy to work with and Norton is…well he is just Norton. Do you want me to cook breakfast?”

  “No. I can cook something. Or, if you prefer, I can go to the cafeteria and bring something back.”

  “Yes, pick us up something. While you’re gone, I’m going to put some clothes through the LaundryMate. I don’t have anything clean that I want to wear to the morgue.”

  Mason mentally added four hours to the present time. “But they won’t be ready in time to meet Dr. Norton at thirteen hundred.”

  “I didn’t say we were meeting him at thirteen hundred.”

  “You said…”

  “He said that he would meet us around thirteen hundred. In actuality, he probably has no intention of showing up until, at the earliest, thirteen-thirty. I plan on taking a late lunch around thirteen hundred. Then we can come back here and change clothes. That way we can arrive at the morgue sometime after fourteen. Lesson number one.”

  ****

  Janet and Mason waited at the morgue for several minutes before Dr. Norton arrived. After introductions were made, Dr. Norton grumbled, “I’m really not supposed to be here. It’s Dr. Gardner’s month to be in charge of the morgue. There’s no real reason that I should have to let you in just to see a dead body.”

  Mason countered, “But weren’t you the doctor who examined the deceased?”

  “Yes, I was unlucky enough to have morgue duty that month. But anything I can tell you about Mr. Echols, you can read in my report. You’ve got my report, don’t you? I sent it to you after you arrived.”

  Mason accessed the report on his notepad. “Not a lot of detail here.”

  “There wasn’t much detail to report. He died from stab wounds. There are pictures of the wounds in the report. I pronounced him dead; I reported the cause of his death. My being here is a complete waste of my time.”

  Mason closed his notepad. “A lot of people say that my being on Mars is a complete waste of time, but…”

  Norton interjected, “And they are absolutely right.”

  Continued Mason, “But the governor brought me here to investigate Mr. Echols’ death and I’m going to do my best to see that justice is served.”

  “Just read the report. I’ve got important work to do.”

  Janet interrupted, “Dr. Norton, it really is necessary for you to answer Mr. Turner’s questions.”

  The doctor crossed his arms. “If you insist. I was called to Mr. Echols’ home to collect his body.”

  “So, you knew he was dead before you arrived?”

  “No, I didn’t know for sure until I examined him, but usually when I’m told that someone is dead, I accept that opinion.”

  “And who told you that Mr. Echols was dead?”

  “Well, it was Miss Edwards,” the doctor replied, pointing at Janet.

  Mason turned to Janet. “I haven’t heard this. You knew that Mr. Echols was dead? And you’re the one who called Dr. Norton?”

  “Yes, I called Dr. Norton. I didn’t know for a fact that he was dead. But his wife, Lisa, said that he was dead, so I called Dr. Norton.”

  “Why did his wife call you?”

  “I assume that she was calling the governor’s office. Remember, I screen all of his calls. So yes, she called me.”

  “Why didn’t she call the police?”

  “We’re not on Earth, we’re on Mars. We don’t have police. We don’t really have any crime. If someone dies, we usually just call the Farmer. But a violent death—I guess we call the governor.”

  “So, Ms. Echols…”

  “Mrs.” Janet corrected.

  “Mrs. Echols called you. What did she say?”

  “She said that her husband had been killed and she wanted to know what she should do. I told her that I would take care of it. And I did. I called Dr. Norton.”

  “What was her emotional state when she called?”

  “How am I supposed to know anyone’s emotional state?”

  “Did she sound hysterical?”

  “I don’t remember. Maybe.”

  “And then you called the doctor?

  “Yes, and Dr. Norton said that he would go to Mr. Echols’ apartment immediately after lunch.”

  “After lunch? What time did you call?”

  “A little after ten, I think.”

  Dr. Norton objected, “I saw no need to hurry. If I had been told that he was seriously wounded, of course I would have rushed right over. But he was dead. I didn’t think he was in any hurry to see me.”

  “You knew he was dead before you examined him?”

  “Miss Edwards said that he was dead; I trusted her judgment.”

  “But she’s not a doctor. Are you,” he directed at Janet. She shook her head and Mason continued, “And she wasn’t at the scene. Why would you trust her judgment that Mr. Echols was dead?”

  “You don’t understand the colonists, so I am assuming that you are asking out of ignorance. There are so few colonists that every life is sacred. If there had been any chance that he could have been revived, then every doctor would have been called. He would have been p
hysically carried to meet those doctors. There would have been panic in the attempt to save his life. Instead, I only received the call because I had morgue duty.”

  “Okay, you knew he was dead. What did you do?”

  “The colony is small, so most times when someone has morgue duty they never go near this place. I had patients to see. I finished with my morning patients, I cancelled my afternoon appointments and I went to lunch. After lunch I went to Mr. Echols’ house. Miss Edwards let me in.”

  “Was the wife there?”

  “No,” Janet answered. “I called some of her friends and had them take her away. I was there to let Dr. Norton into the apartment.”

  “Did you go inside?”

  “No, I didn’t. And I left as soon as Dr. Norton arrived.”

  “What did you find at the scene?” Mason directed at Dr. Norton.

  “Mr. Echols was lying in his bed, nude. Blood was all over the bed and some on the floor. There were three stab wounds in his chest. One of the wounds was superficial. The weapon had squarely struck a rib and had been deflected. A second wound was deeper, but probably not life threatening as it missed the heart. The third wound punctured the heart and certainly caused death within minutes.”

  “Were there any further findings during the autopsy?”

  “What autopsy? The cause of death was obvious. I wasn’t going to waste my time doing an autopsy. And I wish I hadn’t called the governor to tell him what I found.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I called the governor and he personally answered the phone. I guess Miss Edwards had not yet returned to the office. Anyway, when I told him about Mr. Echols he acted as if he knew nothing about it. Apparently, Miss Edwards hadn’t bothered to tell him why she had to leave the office. He told me to bring the body to the morgue pending an investigation.”