Mother of Mars (Whispers of A Planet Book 1)

by Sean Clark

  Cecil picks himself up against the wall, a sudden wave of discomfort coming over him as he hears Agrippa speak his name. There are more murmurs seeming to be directed at him. “Ruiz here is familiar with the system you’re working on. For now, that’s all you need to know about him. Aetius will hold back those who are coming with us. The rest of you go with Martin and Ruiz.”

  Cecil remains still, listening to the men shuffle about the room. Alongside the earthy smell of the room, he can sense the oil and sweat lingering on the men, working hard. Footsteps approached him, and he perks up.

  “Cecil?” The voice seems to question him. “I hardly recognize you.”

  “Martin.” Cecil acknowledges the man.

  “Listen.” Martin sighs. “I know what I said over the radio, but I wasn’t aware of your condition.”

  “I’m more surprised up stood up to Cassius like that.” Cecil adds.

  “We’re all stressed out… trying to get this thing to work. I have to take out my frustration somehow. Besides, he can’t touch me over here.” Martin lets out a small laugh which Cecil reciprocates. “I’m glad you’re here, but to be honest, we’ve been wracking our brains over this. Do you think you can help us?”

  “Lead me there, and we’ll see.” Cecil says confidently.

  Martin grabs Cecil by the shoulder, and starts to pull him along. They exit out of the room and down a cold tunnel. “How long have you been up?” Martin asks, pushing him along.

  “A few days.” Cecil says breathily. “Most of them in med bay still, trying to sort out my feelings.”

  Martin hesitates, and starts walking slower. Cecil matches his pace. The warmth of the tunnel begins to climb, and the pores on Cecil’s skin start to spit out droplets of sweat.

  “When I heard about your accident, I couldn’t believe it was true.” Martin anguishes. “I didn’t want to go to med bay and confirm for myself either… I was too afraid. When you never reported back to me, I knew what I had heard was right. A few people who stopped by the med bay mentioned someone unconscious in bed, covered in bandages… unrecognizable. That was… you. You know, we’ve been down here for weeks now, so keeping up with your condition has been impossible. Now, having you here… in front of me, it’s… weird. I’d say it’s like seeing a ghost.”

  “You’re not the first person to say that… I can’t be put out of commission that easily. You should know that.” Cecil jokes.

  “I want to believe that… but… look at you.” Martin stops him. Cecil catches his breath. His lungs strain in the humid air. A pair of arms spin him around. “Agrippa whispered to me to keep an eye on you. I understand why he would be worried. I’m sorry I got you into this mess.” Martin says solemnly.

  “Agrippa seems to be the doting father type.” Cecil says sternly. “He can’t help it. You… you know me better than that, don’t you?” He asks, hopefully. “Let me do my thing.”

  “If you really think you can help us here, be my guest. I just don’t…”

  “It’s my only wish to be useful.” Cecil stops him. “Don’t take that away from me. Just a couple days ago, I could barely stand on my own. Cassius told me I was going to be shipped off. If anything, you saved me from that.”

  “There’s no stopping you, is there? Come on, let’s go then.” Martin turns him back around, and they continue on.

  Cecil’s legs begin to ache, the installation seeming to stretch on forever. A couple silent minutes passed when Martin finally slows down. The tunnel is stifling. Cecil wafts the collar of his coveralls back and forth. It cools him down a bit, but the area is still the hottest he has encountered.

  “We’re passing the condenser… as of now it’s doing nothing though.” Marin explains. “We’ve also got the wellhead sealed and the valves installed, but in between the two we have a dead freaking turbine generator just sitting here. I’ll try to explain what we’ve been trying.”

  Cecil steps carefully around the rough ground. There are patches where concrete had been laid, but the rest is bare rock. He hears the clamor of others working. There is a faint whistle of a pressure release valve venting. Someone brushes against his shoulders to squeeze beside him. The room smells of grease, sweat, and the burning of metal from welding.

  “We’re here.” Martin announces. “Do you happen to remember anything about when the turbine came in?”

  “I do… it got shipped from Earth, in pieces no less.” Cecil reminisces. “I was there when we got it assembled. We had thought we were closer to finding a permanent installment for it, but it just sat there for months. Let me guess, you got to work on it after it came over here and you got nothing?”

  “That’s right.” Martin confirms. “The bearings are probably all frozen, that’s what we’re thinking.” There are a few sounds of agreement from around him.

  “Then let’s open it up, then.” says Cecil, matter-of-factly. Drifting away from Martin, he walks forwards carefully. His outstretched hands make contact with the bare metal, cold to the touch. He feels the massive casted housing, rugged and heavy.

  “That’s the problem. It came down here in one big piece, and we expected it to be ready to have the rest of the system built around it. Well, you know how that turned out.”

  Cecil draws on his memory to when he studied the plans, so many nights before he fell asleep. He remembers each part, numbered, tumbling out of big aluminum crates. He remembers tightening bolts until his arm was sore, and nearly cutting himself on rotor blades multiple times trying to get deep into the machinery. Cecil takes a deep breath before finally speaking up.

  “Alright everyone, we need to get this thing stripped down and find out what our issue is. This is a two-flow rotor if I remember correctly, right? I assume everyone knows what bearings might look like on a machine like this. There are two rings of them on either side. Start by removing the casing on one side. It’s symmetrical, so either way will work.”

  Cecil feels a few people gathered around him, listening. He feels awkward delivering orders, especially with no way to judge how they are being received. “Um, go!” He cheers half-heartedly before stepping back.

  There is a lot of commotion of people banging away and giving out directions. Cecil tries his best describing how he remembers parts going on and fitting together, guiding the workers to the panels and finding that they need to get at. Cecil twiddles his thumbs, imagining himself with a tool in his hands. He stands against the wall to try to get out of the way.

  Martin comes to his side. “We’re down to the inner frame around the main shaft on one side. We were right… the bearings are all gummed up and the grease has all gathered at the bottom.”

  “Good. Well, not in that sense.” Cecil stammers. “Make sure the other side gets help getting it stripped down as well.”

  “Right.” Martin agrees. “What do you suppose we do about getting the bearings cleaned off? It’s not like we can just hoist a thousand-pound turbine drum off the bearings and clean them.”

  “Get a propane torch. We can melt off the old grease. It’s something I learned from my father in his shop.” Cecil tries to hide his grin.

  Shortly after, Cecil hears the striking of flint and the distinct sound of a torch catching fire. The room starts to fill with the smell of burning machine grease. Cecil holds his sleeve to his face. Shortly, Cecil is updated that both sides had been cleaned out.

  “Good, now smear them with new grease the best you can.” Cecil confidently shouted out the orders. “Anyone who can get their hands on some gloves, get ready to attempt to spin the whole drum. Don’t get cut by the blades.”

  Cecil feels the energy in the room shift as the men rattle off a series of orders. There is a loud ‘heave-ho’ as the group of men attempt to spin the turbine with manpower alone. “Get more grease in those bearings, it’s not spread evenly enough.” Cecil shouts.

  There is more commotion, and another countdown followed by grunts and shouts. Cecil hears the loud rumbling of bearings and feels the light
breeze of the turbine blades.

  “We did it, Cecil!” shouts Martin. He comes close and pats Cecil on the shoulder.

  “You guys did it… not me. What’s next?” Cecil says breathily, the heat getting to him.

  “We can put the turbine back together, but other than that and a few plumbing things, this baby is good to go.”

  Cecil smiles sheepishly. Sweat pools on his forehead, and his entire body feels warm. Martin passes something into his hand and Cecil wrapped his fingers around it.

  “Tell the guys on the radio that we did it.” Martin encourages him.

  Cecil clicks in the talk button before taking a deep breath. “This is Ruiz. We’ve got the turbine up and running.” The button clicks loudly as he lets go. The silence persists for a few seconds.

  “Copy. Good job everyone. Good job, Cecil. Feel free to call it a day, kid.” The voice comes from the radio.

  Pride swells in Cecil’s heart, beating fast. He tries again to suppress his grin. Martin jabs him with his elbow playfully. “I’m glad we’re done with that.” Cecil sighs. “It feels good being back at work.”

  “It never gets old, does it? You look exhausted, though.” Martin observes. “I’ll take you back to the quarters.”

  “I can stay here and help.” Cecil protests.

  “There’s no sense in having you here exhausting yourself. These guys can manage reassembling this without us.” Martin explains.

  “But… fine.” Cecil catches himself breathing heavily. Martin gives him a push on the back, and they move out into the tunnel away from the machine. “So, you guys don’t sleep in shifts here? How many men do we have?” Cecil asked as they walk down the quiet tunnel.

  “There’s about thirty of us. Some come and go as needed, but the majority of us are always working as a team.” Martin explains. “Back over there, having everyone awake and trying to accomplish all their duties at the same time would just cause a huge mess. Tensions get high enough. With our small groups down here, we’ve learned to mesh pretty well. You could say everyone depends on everybody else all the time. That means you shouldn’t feel bad that you need help from somebody to help you get around. After all, you’ve helped us so much in the short time you’ve been here.”

  “Thanks, I guess. I know the atmosphere you’re talking about back at the station. Everyone is supposed to work as a group but we’re all kind of disconnected based on what we do. It’s like I don’t know anybody.” Cecil says in a melancholy manner. The far end of the tunnel becomes cooler and Cecil becomes aware of the fatigue in his limbs. Martin eventually pulls him to a stop.

  “Well, also unlike that place, we have plenty of time to sit back and nurture proper relationships.” Martin speaks optimistically. “We turn off the lights for a good portion of the night to save energy, so people often stay up and chat in the dark. I can’t imagine the lack of light would bother you though. Anyways, here’s the sleeping quarters.” Martin leads him in from the tunnel. “Let’s hope someone thought far enough ahead to arrange a cot for you and the other guy.”

  The two enter the small room and a few others file in after. One of the voices Cecil had heard working on the turbine speaks up. “Ruiz is cool with me. He can have my spot if there’s no space. He looks like he’s been through enough hell.” The man laughs loudly.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it. I guess.” Cecil says tiredly. The man responds with another laugh.

  Cecil eventually finds his way to a makeshift bed and lays down. His head hits the pillow with a soft thump. It smells dirty and musky, and Cecil rolls over to his back. A small packet is tossed, landing onto his stomach, surprising him. Cecil takes it in his hand, feeling the smooth foil packaging.

  “Eat up.” He hears Agrippa’s voice.

  “Thank you.” Cecil grabs at the packaging, tearing the top off. He slides the contents out and bites into the chewy substance.

  “How do you feel?” Agrippa asks as Cecil begins to chew it down.

  “I did it, didn’t you hear?” Cecil says arrogantly. “We got the turbine going.”

  “You all did it.” Agrippa corrects him. “Not that I’m ignoring you and progress you’ve made. Listen… I’m sure Martin… probably Cassius too… knows that remaining down here probably isn’t in your best interest. Are you sure you want to stay here?”

  “What are you saying now, Agrippa?” Cecil retorts.

  “I still think you should consider heading back to Earth.”

  “Stop it with this bullshit.” Cecil grumbles, gritting his teeth.

  “Are you really only pretending to be okay… thinking that you can handle this? I can tell that somewhere in the back of your mind you’re still trying to justify to yourself that you should still be here.” Agrippa goes on calmly.

  “Look what happened today… without me, they would still be at a standstill.”

  “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t be here.” Agrippa raises his voice, though still calm. “I just think being back on Earth would be better overall. How long do you think you can continue being useful as-is? You can’t rely on muscle memory to work through each problem you come across. If you go home, you can get help.”

  “There’s nothing back there for me Agrippa.” Cecil says indignantly. “When I get back to Earth, the first thing I’m faced with is having to bury my mother.”

  “Shit.” Agrippa exclaimed, disappointed. “Who told you about that? Was it Cassius?”

  “Did you know this whole time?” Cecil accuses him. “I had a note delivered to me, neatly folded up on my bunk, telling me in the least words possible that she had passed. You could have spared me that, Agrippa.”

  “This is what I was afraid of.” Agrippa broods. “I knew that if you were told, you would just want to stay up here… and hide away from your problems. I’ve had to bury loved ones too, Cecil. It brings closure, both for them and for yourself.”

  “It was my mother who convinced me to come here… to just leave everything behind. I never once looked back, wishing I could find myself there on Earth… even knowing she would be there for me, saying prayers every night for me to be safe. I guess none of those things mattered in the end.”

  “Those things do matter, Cecil. Don’t lie to yourself.” Agrippa contests.

  “You don’t know me, old man.”

  “Exactly. That’s why I can’t make this decision for you. But I want you to at least give it thought.” Agrippa concludes, taking a place on the cot next to Cecil.

  “Whatever.” Cecil rolls over, facing the wall as he shuts his eyes tight.

  Contact

  Cecil.

  Cecil stirs. His eyelids feel heavy, and exhaustion still holds on to his body. He sits up, listening for the whisper of a voice that had called out his name. Was it a dream?

  His mouth is parched. The room is sweltering and he is covered once again in sweat. In the darkness, he can hear Agrippa snoring lightly beside him.

  He sits up carefully, desperate to escape the clutches of the room. Sliding between the cots, Cecil guides himself carefully, wary of the beds full of sleeping people around him. He makes his way to the side of the room, meeting the bare rock. Tracing his way along around the wall he finds the doorway the men had come in through. Outside, the relief of the cool air hits him. He unzips his coveralls down to his waist and slides his arms out of the sleeves. The undershirt clings to his back, moist from sweat.

  In the stillness of the tunnel he can feel a gentle hum permeating the air, between the sound of each of his slow footsteps on the floor grate. Its familiar tone resonates in Cecil’s mind. He can’t tell if it is his imagination or not. The sound is much more calm and faint than he had felt previously. His boots trace the parallel lines of the struts in the floor grate, leading aimlessly down the hallway.

  He holds his arm out to drag his fingers across the wall, the sensation guiding him deeper. The temperature continues to drop. The wall he follows seems to bow out into a larger room. He feels the same strange sensa
tion as he did when he arrived down in the tunnels. The hairs on his arms stand on end, and he stops dead in his tracks. He knows where he is… right beside the pool.

  Allowing himself to stray from the false sense of security the wall provided, he drifts towards the center of the room. A hand railing meets him, which he feels continue around in a circle. Cecil takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the painful feelings still in his mind. A feeling of vertigo creeps upon him once again as he remembers plunging into the pool. His hands grasp tightly on the railing as if out of reflex. Releasing his grasp, he takes a few steps back, his legs shaky. He sits down on the grated floor cross-legged and takes a deep breath.

  His nostrils flare as the cool air enters his body. He quickly becomes aware of the calm humming that continues to ring in his ears. For the moment, he is at peace.

  For the first time since being discharged from the medical bay he feels like he can sit and think about everything that he has gone through. His thoughts return to his mother.

  He faintly remembers her olive skin and the fine lines of her face, smiling as if to bid him farewell before being prepped for cryo-sleep- the last steps before departing the planet. It was then over two-hundred days of suspended animation later that he would arrive on Mars. It was two-hundred days of her waiting on some sort of news to inform her that the ship had made its long trip safely. His first contact from Mars took fifteen minutes, waiting in agony for his few lines of text to reach back to Earth over radio waves.

  Any personal responses from Earth were few and far between. Cecil wonders how long it was into his coma that she had passed… if she knew she was dying… and if she ever tied to let him know personally. In the low hum, Cecil attempts to conjure up the sound of her voice in his mind. He remembers the things she used to say, but they remain nothing more than words. He cannot remember her voice.