by Vincent Pet
10. Area 51
Countdown to the End of the World
Written by Vincent Pet
Copyright © 2011 by Vincent Pet.
All rights reserved. Published at Smashword.
The characters in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons is coincidental and not intended by the author.
A Bray & Bentley eBook Publication
Brad Walsh wanted more from life. He should have been content with his accomplishments. He had good health, a beautiful family, an enviable house, and a very rewarding career. These were all tangibles most people lived and aspired for during their lifetime. Was it just a question of fate, though? Did life just happen because people didn’t really try to do anything else but settled with whatever fate tossed at them? He had been fortunate. He had been dealt a good hand but he was certain he would have been just as accepting in many other circumstance and this irritated him greatly.
Brad sighed as he looked at his watch and mechanically sipped his coffee. He noticed he always took two consecutive sips before resting his cup back on the table. It was a habit he had developed at work and he had carried the reflex home. Brad, just relax, he told himself. A part of his mind, the organized and structured part, told him that the quietude he sought was impossible. His responsibilities did not permit him to be any different than whom he was. He had obligations at work, obligations to his family, and obligations to the lifestyle he had created for himself after many arduous years spent building it all up. There was little time to be creative when so much mental maintenance was involved on being accountable. There was little time to risk the impossible when the impossible rarely paid back. Every thought had to be planned out and followed on cue. Every action had to lead to a concrete purpose...
…and Brad missed that creative spark. He missed that wild rush of bold, irrational and irresponsible thoughts from where crazy ideas bubbled. He craved that unbound, naive freedom of believing that he could actually change the world with a single thought. What happens to that freedom? When did he realize he was just a drop in the ocean and that a drop cannot dictate the flow of an ocean? How did he become like everyone he knew when he swore to himself that he would be different? He had stopped struggling, stopped swimming against the current of complacency. He had become…so realistic.
Jessica Walsh groaned as her four-year old son grinned mischievously back at her.
"I said put your socks on!"
The child wasn’t listening at all. He had found something else that had grabbed his attention. He jumped from his chair and bolted into the adjacent room. A few seconds later, the dog came barking back into the kitchen with the boy chasing after him. Melissa, their seven-year old daughter, started shrieking as the dog poked his nose over the table trying to get at her bagel.
Exasperated, Jessica turned to her husband. She was worried. Brad had become ever increasingly quiet during the last few months as the mission to Mars approached the red planet. Lately though, it was worse. He had become notably absent in their everyday life. Now that someone had finally landed on Mars, he seemed even more somber, as if he wanted to seclude himself from the world with his unexplainable pain.
"Brad," she said in a soft but demanding voice. "Brad, is everything OK?"
Her calm tone was in such contrast to the loud noises around them that its whisper grabbed Brad's mind instantly and pulled him back to reality. In just a few minutes, Brad's household returned to a more manageable state as he helped his wife with the children and dog. Soon afterwards, he was on the highway.
It was a bright morning, and traffic was rather scarce as Brad made his way to the office. An awful lot of people, he mused, must have taken the day off to follow the first steps of the Mars mission. He had deliberately asked his wife not to turn on the TV, explicitly not looked at his text messages, nor glanced at his pad…no, today he just wanted peace and quiet. He even resisted the urge to turn on the radio even if a part of him was overly excited about the mission. There was a better part of him, though, that he could not ignore. It ached so deeply that he didn't know how to climb out of the grief he carried.
Try as he might, he couldn't fully grasp why he felt this way. Was it envy? Did he actually feel, now that man had finally made it to Mars, that he should have been the one walking on its surface today? Or was it that he feared of getting old, of having lost so much time doing nothing really special with his life? All that he knew was that somehow, somewhere, he had lost an opportunity to be much more in life than who he was. Deep inside him, he had started to question the life he had been leading. Was this really him? He didn't feel fulfilled. Was it fair to his family, to feel like this, though? Of course it wasn't. Yet, all he yearned for at that very moment was to be in Bob Ross's shoes.
His mind flashed back to his last year of high school as he thought about Bob Ross. It was curious how vivid those memories were lately all coming back. He thought that those days had been buried away forever inside of him, but Bob Ross's journey to the red planet had brought them all back. Bob never forgave him for having stolen Jessica away and Brad never fully explained himself. Brad thought of how foolish the whole situation had been. He should have handled things differently. He should have tried to recuperate the friendship he had with Bob. He had been his childhood friend, his best friend, the brother he never had and the only person he would have gone to the end of the world with. They had both fantasized of being astronauts. In the end, Bob had pursued their dream. He hadn’t.
Brad turned into the parking lot and made his way to his reserved parking space in front of the company's entrance. He frowned, not believing how empty the parking lot was. He could have easily counted the cars! Where was everyone? He must have greatly underestimated the impact the Mars event would have. As he was about to close the car's door, he turned on his cellular and the messages started pouring in. There was a ring. It was Jessica and she was clearly agitated. Her voice broke often as she described the events of what had happened. Brad opened his mouth in astonishment and leaned against his car, hardly believing what Jessica was telling him. He looked up, in the direction where Mars would be and despite the warmth of the sun, a chill went through him, so cold it seemed to have frozen his heart. It couldn’t be, he kept repeating to himself. It was impossible.
***
Bob Ross paused for a split second. His six-wheeler Scorpion was having a rougher time than anticipated rolling over the rocky terrain of Mars. He slammed his foot down on the pedal and accelerated with all that the little engine could muster.
"Slow down, Robert Ross."
Bob cracked a smile. He was having so much fun that at times he thought it was all a dream. He had waited a lifetime for these moments and there was no way anyone was going to wake him up and tell him what he could or could not do. If this were a dream, he would keep on dreaming it his way.
"I don't see any cops around, Ted. Do you?"
Ted Louis was the second member of the crew. He had remained in the orbiter, circling high above Mars as he collected and monitored the data received from the ground.
"Just to remind you Bob that if anything happens, you're too far away from the lander for anyone to come and haul that heavy ass of yours back. You wouldn't want to miss the welcome back party on Earth now, would you?"
They heard a chuckle. The third and final member of the crew, Samantha Mikado, was back at the Mars landing module carrying out various soil analyses near the landing site. She had been unusually quiet since they had touched down, thought Bob and it was good to hear her finally participating.
"I wouldn't mind at all, Ted," she said. "Just the thought of all that extra leg room on the long journey home…"
She didn't finish her sentence as Bob laughed out loud and drowned out her voice.<
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"Tell you what. If I did have extra oxygen and food and a nice Martian girl to keep me company, I wouldn't mind at all waiting around for the next crew to arrive!"
"O.K. down there," interrupted Ted. "Let's get our minds back to business please."
The next few minutes passed by in silence. Bob looked back at the trail of dust the buggy lifted high in the air. The reddish dust seemed momentarily suspended in the air, sparkling before falling back to the ground like a slow, rolling fog. It was simply beautiful.
"Distance, Ted."
"About two and a half kilometers Bob, straight north."
"Acknowledged."
Bob narrowed his eyes and peered as far as he could ahead of him. He should be able to see it soon, he told himself while hardly containing his excitement. He had been only a boy when Spirit had landed on Mars and sent back those stunning pictures of the red planet. From that day, he knew that there was nothing else in the world he'd rather do but become an astronaut and go to Mars. He had done it.
A brief shadow crossed Bob's mind as Brad suddenly appeared in his thoughts. It was impossible for him to separate his boyhood memories from Brad. They had been inseparable. He thought back at all those days spent at Brad's place going over every magazine, browsing the net, and collecting every image they could get their hands on about Mars. He remembered how they had dreamt of both setting foot on Mars together. Now that he had made it, he wished that Brad could be there with him. He wished he could turn back time and somehow make things different between them. He wondered if Brad was following the mission. He would bring him back a soil sample, he thought impulsively, as if he had to come as far away as Mars to find a solution to mend their friendship. The time had finally come to put an end to years of hurt and indifference between them. He even imagined the scene, the first words he would tell Brad…I’ve come to take Jessica back; and by the way, here’s a soil sample from Mars!
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Samantha's voice.
"Ted…there's something….Ted, how long until Mission Control joins in?"
Ted's puzzled voice came back.
"There's about fifteen more minutes left until we go live. Why?"
There was a long pause. Bob slowed down his vehicle as he called out to Samantha. There was another moment of hesitation before Samantha reluctantly responded.
"I don't know. I don't really know how to say this. You will probably think I'm crazy. I'm about a thousand feet from the landing module."
Samantha paused again, taking a deep breath before continuing.
"There’s something strange here."
Again, Samantha stopped talking, deliberating within her mind how to reveal what she had found. Bob heard Ted's concerned voice come in.
"Samantha, can you be more specific? Is there something wrong? Do you need assistance?"
Samantha's reply was prompt as she reassured them that her life was not in any danger.
"No! I don't need assistance! I am fine. It's just that….how can I say this? There's something on the ground which shouldn't be here..."
Bob relaxed as Samantha's voice came back, reassuring them that she was not in danger. He could hardly contain himself, though, as he interjected.
"Samantha what is it, you found a little green Martian girl for me?"
Samantha sighed in frustration. Bob was simply being himself again. She knew though, that one of the reasons Bob was chosen as commander for the mission was because of his personality. Bob never panicked. He had no concept of stress. He was the same quick, intelligent humorous self in any situation. He never seemed to take anything seriously even if he was the most serious person she knew.
"Bob, I don't know what color Martians are supposed to be, but it seems that one of them left footprints behind."
There was a dead silence between the three of them. Ted was the first to speak out.
"Are you certain? It has to be something else, like some unexplained natural phenomenon that may look like a footprint perhaps?"
Samantha had expected the question.
"Impossible. These are regular patterns, each roughly five feet apart. They indicate normal bipedal motion. They proceed in a straight line until they reach an obstacle and then shift to the left to go around the boulder before reassuming their initial trajectory. There's more, though. The imprints indicate a highly specialized foot or footwear that adapts to the terrain. They seem to have three toes in the front and four in the back that leave behind impressions of uneven depth from one step to the other, possibly indicating that they have the capacity to vary pressure on each point as they walk or run."
Bob regained his voice. He had been thinking quickly while Samantha explained her observations.
"Samantha, return to the ship now. It’s an order. Do not take any more samples. Leave everything as is."
"Yes." Then it hit her too. “Oh my god! The sandstorm! Two days ago!”
"Yes…the tracks should have been covered up! The prints are not more than forty-eight hours old. I am turning around and coming back to the landing module. Samantha, prepare module for take-off. Ted, activate emergency escape procedures. Inform Mission Control on secure line and ask for guidance. Over."
There was a stealthy silence as Ted failed to reply. When he finally did, his voice was as unflinching as cold steel.
"Hold everything Bob."
Surely, thought Bob, Ted had misinterpreted him.
"Ted? Did you just say no? This is not for discussion!"
"Bob I am truly sorry, but I am taking control of this mission."
For a second, Bob was caught off balance. This was so unexpected. He heard Samantha's voice tainted with anxiety calling out to them.
"What's happening here? Ted, what are you doing?"
"I am taking control of this mission. Bob, code gamma dash six nine green twenty three. Proceed as normal towards Spirit. Samantha, step away from the footprints and continue sampling the soil. It is strictly forbidden to say anything about this find. As far as we are concerned, this never happened and you are both prohibited to ever talk about this again. Our very lives depend on it."
A few doubts that Bob had on Ted from the very beginning were starting to click into place. Ted had not been part of the space agency but had been imposed by the military to be part of the mission even if there were much better candidates available. He had always suspected that there must have been an ulterior motive that he was unaware of if the military wanted an inexperienced astronaut to be part of such a delicate mission. The gamma code that Ted had just invoked was intended to relieve Bob of command in case Mission Control found him incapable of making sound decisions or if he became psychologically unstable during the long voyage. He had been instructed to obey without question the person uttering the command if the code was ever evoked. As far as he knew, only four people possessed the code. He had just discovered that Ted was one of the four.
Samantha was demanding for an explanation from Ted, but it was in vain. Bob interrupted.
"Ted, listen to me. Get Samantha out of there."
"Bob, you know your oath and duty. Don't make this more difficult than it is. Remember that the whole world will soon be watching. We only have minutes left until contact is established again with Mission Control and we go live around the world. I want you both to proceed as established by protocol with your tasks. I will explain as much as I can when you both get back to the orbiter."
"Damn it Ted! What are you up to?"
Bob surprised himself. For the first time ever, he felt helpless. He really wanted Samantha out of there but was obligated to obey. It crossed his mind to disregard the order, but it might put the mission in peril. Experience had taught him that disregarding field rules usually meant worsening a situation. He didn’t understand the motives behind the code, other than Ted had uttered it as soon as Samantha had detected, what seemed, an alien presence. If he didn't understand what had pushed Ted to take command, he could not envision the consequences a refu
sal to obey might have on the mission. Unless otherwise warranted, it was better to be cautious and obey Ted's orders for the time being.
"Samantha, Ted's in command, for now. Follow his orders."
Samantha's reply sent a chill up Bob's spine. He could sense a desperate urgency in her voice.
"I hear you Bob. Just come back as soon as you are able to. I want to get out of here. Fast"
Bob had to focus with all his concentration to keep his vehicle on target. He knew that the right thing to do would be to return back to Samantha's location. He knew Samantha well. She did not say things lightly and she would not have revealed her find as being alien if she was not convinced of this. He only hoped that whatever had left the footprints was no longer on the planet. Even if he had always taken an avid interest in the debate over extraterrestrial life, he was not prepared to encounter an alien species. He did not want to risk misinterpreting any peaceful gesture that might lead to grave consequences for humanity. On the other hand, if ever the alien intentions were hostile there was not much they could do to counter back. If the latter was the case, Samantha and him had no chance of coming out of a hostile alien encounter alive.
Yet, he understood the peculiarity of the moment. Man had finally reached Mars. The eyes of the world were riveted on them. They were pioneers to a better humanity, to one that was able to look past their immediate problems on Earth and use their mind to accomplish together what had once seemed impossible. If man could dream about going to Mars and make it come true, then they could dream about ending war, they could dream about ending famine, and they could dream about conquering the stars and make it come true too. In a certain way, Ted was right. They couldn’t abandon their mission. They had to stay and show the world that dreams were worth pursuing.
A few moments later, the astronauts heard a sharp tone indicating that they had reestablished contact with Earth. Ted’s voice was hard and crisp.
“Mission Control, this is Oasis Orbiter. Gamma procedures are in place. All is functioning smoothly. Over.”