by Sean Clark
“I… I can’t. This is putting too much strain on me. I’m coming up.” Markus speaks through heavy breaths.
Cecil feels a weird tingling come over him. Grabbing at the rope, he starts to pull up the slack on the tether.
“Oh god.” Markus struggles. Cecil can hear the surface of the pool being disturbed, water sloshing against the sides. Markus continues to breathe harder.
“Markus, can you find your way up?” Cecil still holds onto the radio with his free hand.
“It’s… really hard to swim in this.” He wheezes. “I can’t see the lights… above me ether.”
“I’m going to start pulling you out.” Cecil’s heart begins to race.
“This… doesn’t make… sense. Jesus Christ… pull me out of this.”
Cecil drops the radio and lets it clatter to the floor. He stands up and grabs the tether between both of his hands. Draping the excess over his shoulder, he starts to transfer it hand over hand towards him. The sound of Markus sputtering loudly comes through the radio, his voice mixing with the sound of sharp breaths. The rope grates against Cecil’s palms as he pulls as hard as he can. The surface of the water breaks as Markus comes up. Cecil continues pulling until he can feel Markus touch the side of the pool surface. Bending down, he stretches out his arm, allowing Markus to grab onto it, helping him scramble up under the railing and onto the grate. Markus rips off his helmet and starts grasping for air.
“I think… I think my ribs are cracked.” He moans painfully, as he makes gulping sounds with his mouth.
Cecil falls to his knees. His fingers ache, trying to clench his hands down. The palms of his hands burn with deep cuts and tatters of skin. The hot sensation of rope burn and the sting of blood and grime mix together in the wound.
Coldness
Cecil winces as peroxide runs over his palms, trickling over onto the floor and streaking down his wrists. It bubbles, making contact with the sticky blood covering his hands. A large roll of gauze is wound around the gashes, constricting the movement of his hand.
“We should call them back.” Agrippa speaks seriously.
“They’re not… going to have enough power to get back… to the base if they turn around right now.” Markus explains through strained breaths. “By the time they arrive at base and get a recharge, it will already be nightfall. We can get them to bring me back tomorrow morning.”
“You two both need to go back. This place isn’t where you need to be right now.” Agrippa is uncharacteristically temperamental. “We don’t have the means to deal with shit like this.”
“I don’t have any objections here.” Markus shifts in the cot uncomfortably, groaning along with the sound of squeaking springs
“Cecil, let’s talk.” Agrippa says gruffly. He pulls Cecil away from where Markus lay. Speaking in a low tone, Agrippa starts his interrogation. “What were you thinking? You of all people should know that the pool isn’t something that we should be messing with.”
“I just got pulled up in his pace.” Cecil tries deflecting Agrippa’s confrontation.
Agrippa breaths heavily out of his nose, his tone changing back to normal. “I should have known with Markus. You also should’ve called me… anyone for that matter. I’m just upset because I’m going to be held responsible for this. Did you feel nothing… hear nothing from it? Did it not try to warn you, like it was doing before?”
“There was nothing.” Cecil shakes his head. “I tried to convey my feelings to Mother. It’s like she wasn’t there… wasn’t listening. She didn’t give me any response. Maybe… she wasn’t involved at all.”
“You know that’s not the case. Each time something goes wrong down here the pool is involved. That means her… it. I know I’ve told you… even though you don’t want to hear it. It’s shouldn’t be trusted that easily.”
“You’re right, Agrippa.” Cecil sighs, defeated.
“I can’t even begin to list my misgivings about that thing.” Agrippa continues. “From what you’ve told me, I don’t believe it trying to empathize, it’s just internalizing things… much like you. It may present itself like its intelligent, curious… but it’s probably running on reflex and instincts, if you even want to call it that. You want to connect with it and tell it everything you know, but in truth we barely know what it is or how it works. It’s dangerous.”
“I know!” Cecil raises his voice, echoing around the room.
“Tomorrow you and Markus are heading back to the station and never coming back here. If you want to make your peace, tonight is the time.” Agrippa steps away. Cecil slides down to the floor and puts his head down to his knees. Markus coughs sharply in the background, the springs on his cot creaking slightly. Cecil broods.
__
The hair on Cecil’s neck bristles, a mixture of coldness and chagrin. “Mother!” He shouts. His voice echoes around the cold chamber walls. Each of his heavy footsteps clang against the grated floor as he paces around the room heatedly.
Cecil.
“You hurt him. You could have ended his life.”
I am incapable of such things.
“What about me?” Cecil gestures at the dark emptiness of the room. “When we first made contact, you said you were startled. I understand that my injuries were not out of any malice on your part. I tried to warn you this time. I know you’re always listening to us, to our every word.”
I feel, that is all. My control is… limited.
“What do you feel? Could you feel the pain that Markus experienced then? Do you feel any remorse at all about what’s happened? Everything?”
I feel the ground being permeated, saturated. The substance is enveloping the land.
“That’s the CO2 for the system that is going to generate power for us. Does it cause you pain?” Cecil purses his lips sadistically.
I feel no pain. However, it is hindering the way I sense, overwhelming. Markus was both a victim of his own weakness and a reflex, unintended.
“Don’t you have any feelings on this matter? Or have you decided that we need to be resisted… us humans? Do you want to kill us?”
Human kind is killing itself and its home slowly. That is what you have explained to me. Their only feelings are of themselves. This is also what you have told me.
“Humans have a feeling called empathy... we can attempt to imagine the pain of others. That’s what separates us from you apparently. You don’t feel anything, do you?”
Not in the way humans do… I feel as if it is built into my consciousness, it is a reflex.
“You always said you wanted to understand, but in my recklessness, I never stopped to try and understand how you work. It makes sense to me now. The way you feel is vastly different from the way humans feel. When my father was stabbed in prison, it was caused by somebody’s strong feeling. When I got news of his death, I felt sad… no, I was devastated. My mother too. Don’t believe for one second that life and death don’t matter to humans.”
I don’t understand life and death. I don’t understand the feeling of sadness. I wish to understand.
“I don’t think you ever could.” Cecil stops, his hands throbbing in pain from being clenched into fists around the fresh wounds.
“For as long as man has looked to space, they’ve asked themselves if there was intelligent life out there in the cosmos. When I first made contact with you, I thought that time had come. I thought that I had become a link to what would be mankind’s first discovery of so-called intelligent extra-terrestrial life. Moreover, you connected with me on a level that no other human had. I could not only communicate, but speak as if you were my equal.
I’ve realized now that I’m wrong… I was wrong. There is no trace of intelligence in you. You’re simply there… mirroring what I say and what I think. Perhaps in the first place I only heard you because I wanted to hear a voice of reason in this chaotic situation I’ve been through. Maybe I knew all along that I was just hearing my own words, simply in a different voice. Maybe I heard t
he words I wanted to hear because they were inside of me the whole time. That’s why I felt a connection.
I understand now what I wanted all along. I just wanted some control in my life. It doesn’t matter… all the pain and torment I’ve been through… because it helped me realize that I do have control over my life… I made these decisions and have dealt with the consequences they’ve created because as a human I have free will of my own. That’s what makes it all worth it. Even if there are things I can’t decide on, knowing I have the opportunity to do so is what counts. Tomorrow the steam turbines will be turned on, powering our whole installation here on Mars. Humanity will soon make a new home here, and there is little force that can stand in its way.”
Cecil feels his throat become hoarse as he ends his speech which had grown loud enough to resonate a small echo against the rock walls around him. The sound of a sharp cough comes down the tunnel.
“There’s something about you, Cecil.” Markus shouts painfully.
“How… long have you been there?” Cecil turns around in surprise, walking in the direction of Markus’s voice.
“Not long. I just… came outside for some cool air, and heard shouting.”
“I was… kind of getting something off my chest.” Cecil sighs.
“This isn’t the kind of place I would imagine myself feeling enough at ease to do so.” Markus lets out a groan. Cecil feels his way towards Markus, moving to support him under his arm.
“Perhaps I just want to forget all the bad things about this place, especially now that it’s over.” Cecil props Markus up against him. He can feel shallow breathing against his side.
“This time I want you to carry me out of this place.” Markus teases.
“Come on, let’s get you back to bed. You shouldn’t be straining yourself like this.”
The Weight
Cecil takes careful steps as he follows the front end of the stretcher out through the hall and eventually into the lift. The fresh wounds in his hands cry out in agony from his tight grip around the handles. Cecil winces slightly with each step he takes. Breathing in one final deep breath of the cool air, he nudges the ascend button with his shoulder, shifting the stretcher to one side.
“Whoa, watch it!” Markus exclaims as he is shifted around on the stretcher. His cries are followed by a loud cough and a groan.
“You said I would be the one to carry you out. I’m finally able to return the favor from way back then.” Cecil announces.
The lift reaches its highest point, allowing them to exit. Cecil and the other man set Markus down on the ground before preparing their suits. Cecil calls out to Agrippa, still hanging out in the lift. “Agrippa, take good care of this place. Good luck with the turbines today too… don’t hesitate to contact me if you need help with something.”
“We still have more than enough good hands down here, Cecil.” Agrippa assures him.
“I’m sure everything will go just fine. Aetius, bring them back home safe.”
Aetius grumbles as he helps Cecil lift the stretcher once again. Leaving Agrippa behind, they head out the airlock and carefully lift Markus up into the back of the carrier.
Cecil jumps in as well, taking a place in the back. The cushioned seats are much more comfortable than those of a rover. The once bumpy ride he knew is now smooth, and his is able to slouch into the soft padding.
The long downhill journey is quiet, save the occasion strained wheezes coming from Markus, who eventually breaks the silence. “So… what do you plan to do when you get back?”
“Probably take a shower. I’ll be in there until they force me to get out.” Cecil jokes.
“Yeah, I’d say you need it.”
“What about you, Markus?”
“You mean besides lay in bed and deal with cracked ribs? Well, at least I’ll get to talk to that hot nurse.” Markus laughs, before stopping to groan.
Cecil chuckles with him. The carrier goes back to being silent, and Cecil becomes aware of a pounding in his head, which he chooses to ignore. Popping the joints in his neck, he hangs his head down, trying to push the sensation out of his mind. The pounding grows until he can no longer ignore it. Placing his head down between his knees, he feels a sweat break over his body, underneath the layers of the suit.
“You okay?” Asks Markus, concerned.
“We’ll see.”
The carrier pulls into the hangar what seems like ages later. Cecil’s whole head is pounding. He attempts to roll out of the back of the vehicle and lands half-crumpled on the ground. Aetius jumps out of the driver’s seat and calls out. “Hey, we need to get these two to med bay, right now. Move, people!”
Cecil is delirious from the pain as he is loaded onto a stretcher himself, being wheeled into med bay once again. The dim light he can make out is suddenly painfully bright. Someone shakes him. “Cecil, how are you feeling? On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is it?” The nurse sounds like she is shouting at him.
“Pthhh.” Cecil sputters as he fails to make words. He feels an IV being jabbed into his arm which he half-heartedly tries to resist. Several sets of arms hold him back. His strength fails him as he collapses back on the familiar hospital bed.
Anguishing, Cecil tosses around until he exhausts himself. The pounding in his head slowly dies down to a bearable level. The sound of Markus complaining from the other side of the room comes to his ears. “That’s enough. You’re just going to make it worse. Leave it, I said!”
Cecil hears the nurse stomp off in a huff. The footsteps stop by his bed. “Are you awake Cecil?”
Cecil lets out a groan. “Unfortunately.”
“Are the painkillers working?” The nurse asks.
“Somewhat.”
The side of the bed creaks as a weight is placed down upon it. A pair of hands reach out and grab his, still wrapped in gauze. He tries to retract them reflexively.
“Hey, I need to properly treat your wounds now, Cecil. Markus is fine, and isn’t going anywhere for now.” The nurse’s comforting voice picks away at Cecil’s guard, and he relents. As she undoes the tightly-wound dressings, Cecil feels his lacerations start to sting. “As I thought… there are at risk of becoming infected. Let me grab some disinfectant and fresh bandages.”
Her weight leaves the side of the bed. Cecil lay his hands flat, opening up his palms to the cool air. The nurse’s light footsteps return, and she takes a seat once again on the bed, slightly closer to him. “This might hurt a bit, but please bear with it. Let me know if you need more painkillers.”
Cecil winces as the damp clump of cotton touches his palm, introducing a fresh burning sensation. Her soft, yet strong grip on his wrist holds him steady.
“Thank you.” Cecil mutters through the pain.
“I’m just doing my job.”
“No… for before.” Cecil reminisces. “When I came out of my coma… you were there for me. You even took down the letter for me that was meant for my mother.”
Her hands stop moving for a brief second. “I’m sorry.” She says softly. “Right after you were discharged… I went to communications to have it sent off, but instead I heard that she had passed. I wish you could have learned about it under more pleasant circumstances.”
“I don’t think anything could have softened the blow anyways. By the way, I never got your name.” Cecil trembles slightly.
“It’s Maria.” The nurse announces nonchalantly.
“Thank you, Maria. Thank you for making me feel at home here, in the med bay of all places.” He lets out a small chuckle, trying to cover up the lump in his throat.
“You told me before you weren’t going to get yourself hurt again.” She releases her grip on his wrist and moves her hand up to his forehead. Her touch is cool against his scarred flesh.
“I guess I lied.” Cecil jokes. “Ugh.” Cecil cries out as her touch reaches his temple, sending a jolt of pain through his skull.
“I’m sorry.” She pulls her hand away quickly. “You keep having headaches, do
n’t you?”
“I feel as if every waking hour my head is throbbing to some extent. It’s just a part of my life now, I guess.”
“You’ve been nauseated too, haven’t you?” The nurse continues.
“A bit… why?”
“I’m… going to grab something.” Her voice is cold. She quickly jumps away the bed.
A few minutes later Cecil hears her return, along with the rattling of wheels rolling on the hard floor. “I need to cut your hair back again for this to work.” The nurse explains. “I’m sorry if this hurts a bit.”
Cecil tries to respond but is interrupted by the loud buzzing of the trimmer. The sound comes close up to his face and he feels the teeth glide across his scalp. Bits of hair drift down onto his face. His head throbs as the whirring instrument passes over his head again and again. Finally stopping, the trimmer is pulled away from his head and he can feel her hands brushing off the clippings.
“I’m afraid of what you’re getting at, nurse.” Cecil finally gets the chance to reply. A cold glob of gel is placed on his now bald scalp and is smeared about.
“This is just a hunch… but I want to check it out nonetheless.” The nurse responds. “Early on, I think we ruled out you having any head trauma, so we never did any tests. Now… I’m not so sure. The headaches, the issues with you keeping down food… that’s not natural. Agrippa has also told me sometimes your sleep was erratic.”
“Sometimes when I wake up it doesn’t feel like I had slept at all.”
“Cecil, you need as much sleep as you can get to help yourself get better.”
“I just… can’t.” Cecil whimpers. “After I woke up from the coma, I was terrified. I was afraid that if I fell asleep, I wouldn’t wake up again. Being here, the sound of the heart rate monitor, having you by my side… it made those feelings go away.” Cecil swallows heavily. “When I left, only in exhaustion could I allow myself to drift off. At one point, I thought I found comfort, but that disappeared from me too.”
“I want to help you, Cecil. Will you allow me that?” The nurse asks softly. Cecil takes a long, wavering breath before nodding his head.