The Ethics of Silence

by C. J. Nash

  “Not too much, yet,” Mason replied. “But I’ll continue to work on it.”

  “You can’t. I’ve locked the files.”

  “You can’t do that. The governor will hear about your noncooperation.”

  “Who do you think asked me to lock those files? Besides, I didn’t lock them to keep you out. I locked them to prevent any of the colonists from finding them. They will need to know eventually, but now is not the time.”

  “So, you’ve destroyed all the remaining evidence and locked me out of the files that I need to complete my investigation. I guess I was wrong about you.”

  “Destroyed the evidence? What are you talking about?”

  “I suppose that you wasted no time in recycling Mr. Echols’ body.”

  “It’s still in the desiccation chamber. You can see it if you like. Just don’t let anyone shut you in there; I don’t want to have to rescue you again.”

  “I want to know what is in the Lazarus files.”

  “So do I,” said Janet.

  The Farmer was silent.

  “I’m curious,” said Mason. “With which wave of colonists did you arrive?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Mason opened his notepad. “I’ve got the manifests for both colony ships. It’s not a passenger list, it’s a manifest. The colonists were treated like cargo.”

  “Yes,” said the Farmer. “All inside little boxes that look like high-tech coffins. The colonist’s name on the outside and a body on the inside. Drug induced hibernation. You can sleep like that for a hundred years and only age a single day. Your body sleeps but your mind still dreams. It would be a horrible way to spend eternity.”

  Mason tapped his ‘pad. “I can’t find your name on either of the manifests.”

  “MacDonald’s not the name I was born with. I became Old MacDonald after they gave me the farm.”

  “I know. But neither was Edward Brannon on either of the lists.”

  The Farmer whispered almost inaudibly, “Secrets…” and then aloud, “I’m so damned tired of keeping this secret. You want to know about Lazarus? If I tell you, then you will have to share the responsibility. You’ve got to promise that you will keep the secret until there is a solution to the problem.”

  “I will keep the secret,” said Janet.

  “I can’t promise until I know what I am committing to,” replied Mason.

  “Mason will keep the secret,” said Janet.

  Mason opened his mouth but the daggers in Janet’s glare silenced his protest. “I will keep your secret.”

  The Farmer stood. “After today it will be your secret, too. Find a way to resolve my problem, and there will no longer be a need to keep Lazarus a secret. It would be best if I show you Lazarus.”

  The Farmer mounted his bicycle and Mason helped Janet onto the transport.

  “Where are we going?” asked Janet.

  “To cavern number zero,” replied the Farmer.

  “There is no cavern zero,” Janet protested.

  “Not officially, but it exists.”

  They rode through cavern after cavern until they reached the one that served as the spaceport. Lighting was dim. It would be many months before passengers and cargo would be loaded aboard the shuttle that lay silent far above this cavern. At the far end, were the elevators that carried people and freight between this cavern and the bowels of the shuttle. Behind the bank of elevators the Farmer rode his bicycle. In the near darkness, he pressed his hand against a wall. The wall slid aside revealing nothing but more darkness.

  Once the three had crossed the threshold, the wall slid silently shut leaving them in darkness so thick that they could feel it. “The lights should come on in a few seconds.” As the Farmer said it, dim lights began to appear marking a path through a tunnel. At the end of the tunnel was a door which the Farmer opened. Once again, they had to wait until the door had shut them into total darkness before the space was illuminated.

  They were inside a cavern filled with row upon row of boxes. The Farmer waved expansively. “Lazarus.”

  “It’s a storage facility?” asked Mason. “What’s in the boxes, or are they all empty.”

  “Read the labels,” said the Farmer.

  Mason read aloud, “Gerard Abrams.”

  “And this one is Donald Adams,” said Janet.

  “This one is my favorite,” said the Farmer. He pointed to a box at the center of the front row. “Edward Brannon. This one is mine. There are three hundred coffins here. One hundred brought the first wave of colonists. Another hundred brought the second wave of colonists.”

  Mason waited for the Farmer to continue. Finally, he broke the silence. “You said three hundred coffins. But the colonists only account for two hundred. What was in the other one hundred?”

  The Farmer laughed. “First a little history lesson. Did you know that the present colonists were not the first to establish a colony here?”

  Mason nodded. “I’ve read about it. The first manned missions discovered a sort of a fungus living on the surface of Mars. Samples were brought back to Earth and those samples turned out to be the basis for all kinds of wonder drugs. They couldn’t make the fungus grow on Earth so they finally set up a colony to farm the fungus. I’m not sure what happened after that. I think they found a way to grow the fungus on Earth and closed the colony down.”

  “You’ve got most of it right,” the Farmer agreed. “One hundred men and zero women were sent to farm the fungus. The colony was funded by the government, but it was just one Drug Company that benefited— well, one drug company and the politicians that were in the pockets of that company. General Pharmaceuticals was sitting on a gold mine. The wonder drugs were worth a fortune but they weren’t even a drop in the ocean compared to the money that could be made by processing the fungus into the illegal drug, smash.”

  Realization struck Mason. “The reason your name isn’t listed on those manifests is that you were part of the original farming colony.”

  “Yes, I was one of the original one hundred. We came here with a promise of an easy job and more money than we could ever spend in a lifetime when we returned to Earth. There was no easy job. We had to construct living quarters for ourselves at the same time we were cultivating and collecting the fungus. The farming had to be done on the surface; construction of cavern number one began underground.

  “They just left us here. It would be two years before the ship lifted for Earth and sometimes, I wonder how we managed to survive. Easy job, my ass! Rarely did we have a day when we worked less than sixteen hours. Farming the fungus actually was an easy job, but they didn’t tell us that we would have to work our asses off just to survive. That is something we learned after we got here.

  “They didn’t take us home after two years like they promised. They said that the ship was damaged and could no longer be pressurized. I can’t prove it but that was probably a fabrication just to keep us here. They shipped the fungus back to Earth and left us here. When the next ship arrived, it hadn’t been designed to carry the coffins, so the four years would have to be extended to six. Then the original ship returned. The damage, if there had actually been any damage, had been repaired. Robotic vehicles were on board that would load the coffins when it came time for the ship to lift. We were all counting down the days until our departure. Four hundred forty-two long days we would have to wait—we had already begun to think in Mars days by then.

  “Shortly before that ship arrived, we had stopped farming the fungus. Someone had figured out how to synthesize smash and there wasn’t enough of a profit margin in making the legal drugs. The colony would be permanently dismantled and there wasn’t a man among us that regretted its passing.”

  “We followed the news stories, and heard about the riots in Chicago.”

  “My parents were killed during those riots,” said Janet. “Children were evacuated. Then President Banner dropped the bomb.”

  “That’s right,” agreed the Farmer. “President Banner. Hi
story will always remember him as Brainless Banner. How could anyone be so evil that he would drop a nuclear weapon on his own people? The NAU executed Banner—the only official execution by that government—and they annexed the United States of America.

  “We didn’t know it at the time, but the dissolution of the United States was a problem for us. General Pharmaceuticals never gave a damn about us. We were just here to make them money. We were sent here at the expense of the government and General Pharmaceuticals gained all the profit. The government that had sent us here no longer existed.

  “The time came for us to enter our coffins for the voyage home. One hundred coffins, eighty-four men. Sixteen had died during the six years—three years?—that we were here. The hibernation drug entered our veins and we slept.”

  “But you’re still here,” observed Mason.

  “Did you know that you still dream even though you are in hibernation? I’m sure Janet remembers. The dreams seemed to continue for an eternity. I thought the trip to Earth would never end. Then one day the drug stopped flowing into my veins and I awoke. I thought that it was the happiest day of my life; I was finally home. But I wasn’t home. I still weighed only sixty pounds. I was still on Mars and I was alone.”

  “So, you never left?” asked Mason.

  “No. The NAU had no intention of bringing us home. But when they decided to put a permanent colony on the red planet, they needed someone who had the house keys to open the place up. I don’t know if there was a specific reason that I was chosen or if it was entirely at random. I just know that I was told to prepare the colony for occupancy.”

  “So, all these boxes contain people?”

  “No. There are three hundred coffins. Only eighty-four are occupied.”

  “Eighty-four? You said that of the original hundred, sixteen had died. And you were released to prepare for the permanent colonists. That only leaves Eighty-three.”

  “No it makes eighty-four if you include Mr. Vronsky. I told you that I had a safe place to keep him.”

  “So, what about the others? Why haven’t you awakened them?”

  “Until recently the colony just did not have the resources to support another eighty-three people. We are nearing self-sufficiency and I had believed that the time was near. But the political pendulum of the NAU swings between indifference and hatred when it makes decisions concerning the colony. The latest swing brought a request from the governor to have us prepare to return to Earth.”

  “Janet says that you can’t return to Earth. You would all become invalids because of the increased gravity.”

  “And Miss Edwards is correct as far as the adult population goes. The children, especially the very young, could go to Earth and live a normal life.”

  “And what happens to the adults?”

  “I don’t know. The colony could be completely self-sufficient if the children were gone, but I doubt that any of us would give a damn about the colony if they took our children away. Maybe they expect us to climb back into our coffins and wait for the day that another colony is established. That way we could sleep beside these eighty-three men for eternity.”

  “Are the children going to be sent to Earth?”

  Janet answered, “Hell no! There is no way in hell that we’re going to let them shut down this colony. Holy Shit, Eddie! When the hell were you planning on letting us know what the NAU was trying to do to us? Were we going to just wake up one morning and find out that all the children were missing?”

  “It hasn’t reached that point yet. Currently, the popular opinion on Earth is that all these poor children need a home where they can run and play outside in the sunshine and fresh air. That is the lie that the NAU is spreading. But I have a list of officials that are probably corrupt. If Mr. Turner can prove the corruption, he can reveal that proof to the news media, anonymously of course.”

  “Why anonymously?”

  “Because, Mr. Turner, if you release that list and then return to Earth, you will probably not survive a single day. Corrupt officials will get their revenge. But, as I was saying, if we can get the news media to not only cover the corruption but also tell about life here in the colony, public opinion can be turned. Instead of poor children who can never play under an open sky, we have lucky children who don’t live with pollution and crime. Spin the story correctly and people will begin to wish that their children could live here.”

  “Once the news is broken, my superiors will certainly know who gave the information to the news media.”

  “Not if you remain dead, Johnnie my boy.”

  “Where are you going with this?”

  “I was hoping that you might just want to stay with the colony. Mr. Vronsky has already told them that you are dead. When he returns to Earth, I am sure the details of your demise will be related to those who ordered your elimination. Desiccation makes a person almost unrecognizable. Mr. Vronsky believed that Mr. Echols was you, I’d be willing to bet that if Mr. Echols were to use your ticket home, no one would give him a second glance.”

  “I thought Mr. Echols was needed on the farm.”

  “You can take his place. I’m not really in that big of a hurry to recycle him. You will recycle eventually—if you stay.”

  “But people will recognize me here in the colony. I can’t pretend to be dead until the next ship lifts.”

  “Spend as much time as possible on the farm. Except for Mr. Vronsky, only the colonists ever come here and they can be trusted to keep your secret. Well, they will keep your secret if you give up your stupid investigation—dead men don’t investigate murders. And grow a beard. They might think you look familiar, but they won’t recognize you. Nobody expects a dead man to grow a beard.”

  Chapter 24

  THE SILENCE IS BROKEN

  The Farmer’s notepad chimed. He opened the pad and pressed answer. “Good afternoon Mrs. Ward. You’ve got the DNA results?”

  “Yes”

  “In that case, you will probably want to speak to Mr. Turner.” The Farmer passed the ‘pad to Mason.

  “Hello, Mrs. Ward.” For once, Mason remembered to use the correct title.

  “Hello, Mr. Turner. I’m surprised to hear from you. Rumor has it that you are dead.”

  “Well, the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.”

  “If you are quoting Twain, I believe he actually said, ‘The report of my death was an exaggeration.’”

  “You could be right. You surprise me. It’s rare to meet anyone who reads the old classics. I don’t know anyone on Earth that even knows who Mark Twain was.”

  “I can’t really blame them, Mr. Turner. I’ve seen the edited versions of his works that are available on Earth. We have the original texts here on Mars. While you’re here, you should read them. But just be prepared, these aren’t the scrubbed clean, watered down versions you’re probably used to. Just remember, the language wasn’t offensive when the books were written.”

  “You’ve got the results from the DNA that Mr. MacDonald gave you?”

  “Yes, Eddie brought me a hairbrush. I found three sets of DNA on that brush, none of which match anyone in the colony database. One of the samples, however, does match the unknown sample from the letter opener.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ward. Now I believe I know who killed Mr. Echols. I was actually hoping that you wouldn’t be able to link his DNA to the murder weapon.”

  “His DNA? I don’t understand.”

  “I’m sorry; I can’t tell you who the suspect is.”

  “Didn’t I tell you? The DNA on the letter opener was from a woman.”

  “A woman? Are you sure?”

  “I’m a geneticist. I know the difference between an ex and a wye chromosome. Two exes. Definitely female.”

  “Holy shit!” Mason whispered, and then aloud, “Okay. Thank you.” He handed the ‘pad back to the Farmer and turned to Janet. “Janet, I need you to ask Beth Richards to come and see me.”

  Janet’s eyes were on the floor. “I can’
t.”

  “She can come here or I can go there.”

  Tears welled in Janet’s eyes. “You can’t do this to her.”

  “If I can’t talk to her, I will have to make public what I know.”

  “You don’t know anything!”

  “I know that her DNA is on the weapon that was used to murder Mr. Echols.”

  “It was her letter opener, but I’m the one who stabbed him.”

  “I don’t believe you. What I do believe is that you already knew that she was the one who killed Mr. Echols. If you are covering for her and, especially, if you are willing to admit to a crime that you didn’t commit, you must believe that she had a very good reason for doing what she did. Why did she kill him?”

  “I can’t tell you why he is dead. And I swear Beth didn’t kill him.”

  “I know you can’t tell. It’s because of that damned Day of Secrets. But ask her to come here so that she can tell me what happened.”

  “It’s not only because of The Day of Secrets that I must keep silent. There are secrets that are not mine to tell. Please believe me. Beth is innocent.”

  “Bring her here or I begin my report to the governor, now.”

  Janet slammed the heel of her fist into Mason’s chest. Mason wrapped his arms around the most beautiful woman of two worlds and held her close as her tears ran, unchecked. He kissed her cheek and stroked her hair.

  Janet looked up into Mason’s eyes. “You said you love me.”

  “I do love you.”

  “But you won’t do this for me?”

  “I want to, but I can’t. Let her convince me of her innocence.”

  “And if you’re not convinced?”

  “Call her. I don’t want to write this report without hearing what she has to say.”

  ****

  Beth sat opposite Mason. At her insistence, there were no others present.

  Mason began, “Ms. Richards, why did you kill Mr. Echols?”

  Beth did not flinch at the accusation. “Because I could see no other option.”

  “What had he done to you?”

  “He had done nothing to me.”