Colony

by Leigh Matthews

  "So far, we've accounted for twelve crew, the two of you, and seventeen civilians," Hadley answered flatly. "If there are survivors from the east wing, the biodomes, or the quarry, they haven't reported in."

  "Hardeep?" Silver asked.

  "From the kitchen? No, sorry," Hadley said. "He might not be able to get here though, given the extent of the blast." He paused, talking to someone beside him. "We've lost contact with those left in the west wing. They should have been making their way here, but no one has arrived. Perhaps the explosions caused some issue with the internal doors and communications. You probably have a better view of the situation than we do right now, Chief. Could you take a look and send us some images? We might need you to transport people from the west wing if they can't get here by themselves."

  Aliyaah nodded to Silver, who started the SEV in the direction of the west wing.

  A few seconds later, Hadley's voice came back on the line. "Chief," he paused, then said, "Commander Marshall is dead."

  Eleven

  Silver first met the Commander at the academy, when he was teaching a class on microgravity. He was Lieutenant Commander Anthony Marshall then, and Silver found his teaching style brusque and confrontational. He seemed to want the AsCans, or Astronaut Candidates, to learn through fear and spent an inordinate amount of time slamming his fist on his lectern and eyeballing the students before sending them to the vomit comet.

  Over her years at NASA, Silver had cause to run into Marshall a few more times, but she was happy not to have been selected alongside him for a mission until Octavia. NASA put all potential officers through rigorous psychiatric evaluation and were painstaking about the make-up of every flight crew. Silver always figured that NASA didn't think she and Marshall would be a good fit to coexist in close quarters.

  When NASA announced that Marshall would be the Commander on Octavia, Silver had already been assigned to the mission. His posting was something of a surprise to her, especially as he would have been part of the selection committee that chose Silver, Aliyaah, Hadley, and other key personnel.

  Silver wondered if something had changed in her temperament, but when she met the Commander again he seemed to have mellowed with age. Perhaps the magnitude of the mission, one of the most historic space flights humanity had ever undertaken, was enough to humble him, or at least make him a little less bombastic.

  Silver didn't know if Marshall remembered her from his class a decade earlier. If anything, she had done her utmost to avoid his attention back then. She had done the work necessary to get a good grade, and held her stomach in microgravity. In general, Silver had tried not to draw attention to herself. Perhaps that had paid off years later.

  Like everyone on the crew of Octavia, the Commander would have had to pass a psych eval. He had years of experience in space, with nothing to suggest the kind of acute breakdown he seemed to have just suffered. Hadley had no explanation for the Commander's death either. He had simply stopped breathing and no one had been able to resuscitate him. Doctor Schiff was in the Civilian Wing with Hadley when the Commander collapsed, but she hadn't been able to revive the Commander, even after an adrenaline shot directly into his heart.

  No one had died at the station since they had arrived, and now there were mass casualties. They had all undergone training to help them handle a massive solar storm, mechanical failures, and viral outbreaks, as well as the loss of command personnel, but this was beyond any of their training.

  Silver and Aliyaah were guiding the SEV towards the west wing of the station to check for survivors. The SEV was big enough to comfortably carry four crew at a time, or six in an emergency, assuming no other cargo was on board.

  They were operating on the assumption that something was obstructing passage between the west wing and the civilian wing, and that the crew was trapped. It was strange that comms were down, but they could be malfunctioning due to the proximity of the blasts. Silver was painfully aware that there might be another explanation for the lack of movement, especially as comms had worked just after the explosions. So far, no one had made it to the civilian quarters.

  Aliyaah agreed with Hadley that she and Silver would assess the damage to the wing and see if there was a way to reconnect the parts of the station from the inside. As they drew nearer to the station, Silver's hope faded. The SEV began to encounter an increasing amount of debris, including what Silver could only assume were scattered personal effects from the crew's living quarters. A large, bright white shirt danced through the air toward the SEV, its sleeves flapping frantically as if to wave her and Aliyaah away. The howl of the dust storms was blocked by the SEV's dense shielding, making the silent motion even more eerie.

  "Take us over to the crosswalk. I want to take a quick look before we try to dock," Aliyaah said and pointed to a section where the west wing looked like it was still connected to the rest of the station. There were dents in the structure, but nothing that looked significant enough to indicate a major breach.

  "It seems intact," Silver said. "The debris must be from the east wing."

  "Unless there's a problem on the inner side of the west wing, where we can't see," Aliyaah said.

  The station had been designed in a candelabra shape, with exterior crosswalks between each candlestick. These were meant to be used in emergencies only. The rest of the time, everyone had to walk through the south side of the station, where the mess hall was located. The hangar was just underneath the mess hall, built into the slope of the planet's surface. The laboratory had been on the southern most exterior wall of the east wing. By blowing up the lab, the Commander had sheared off the east wing of the station.

  Silver had seen from the ridge that the hangar had suffered some external damage. That explained why they had felt both blasts as they detached the SEV from the south wall of the station. Whatever had happened in the hangar could also be causing a problem for the west wing.

  The civilian quarters formed the central column of the station, where there was the strongest protection from solar winds and galactic cosmic rays. Its position would have also shielded it from both blasts, but the explosions had damaged the station's magnetic shield, so if there was a severe or protracted solar storm they would all be in trouble.

  Silver guided the SEV to the docking station and backed it in. The Chief held up her hand to signal Silver to stay still as she connected with the station's computer network.

  "Looks like everything's working fine. I don't see a reason for comms to be down."

  Aliyaah looked at Silver and shrugged. "Let's suit up and take a look."

  Silver grimaced and recognised the irony of the situation. She was usually eager to explore the unknown, but all of the missions she had been on shared a common factor: she was heading away from civilisation and its problems, not towards them.

  twelve

  The west wing of the station was large enough to house a hundred personnel as well as the colony's main recreational facilities. Only a quarter of the bunks were occupied in the west wing, with this set to increase gradually as more personnel arrived on the planet. Octavia was the largest shuttle to travel to Mars so far, bringing fifty crew members and twenty-five civilians. With the crew at the refineries, the human population on Mars had stood at almost two hundred. Now, that number had been cut in half, at least. Depending on what was happening in the west wing, there could be fewer than fifty people left on the planet.

  Silver and Aliyaah stepped out of the SEV into the airlock at the dock, with no clear idea of what they would find inside the station. They sealed the hatch to the SEV and after going through decontamination in the airlock, Aliyaah pulled the lever to open the door to the west wing. The door slid open to reveal an empty corridor.

  Silver stepped out onto the metal lattice that formed the walkway and looked to her left and right. There was nothing unusual, just the same expanse of grey metal and uniform rows of doors to individual crew quarters.

  Aliyaah stepped into the corridor beside Silver and
said, "let's head east and see if there are any survivors trying to get through to the rest of the station."

  Silver nodded and reminded herself that the west wing comms and door mechanisms were out. The crew might be trying to follow Hadley's order but be dealing with an obstruction from the explosion, or a malfunction affecting the interior doors. The airlock door was on a separate system, designed to allow for emergency access to the SEV.

  Silver followed Aliyaah down the corridor, checking behind them every few steps. Their boots reverberated on the metal grates. Aside from that, the only other sound was of her breathing, and Aliyaah's.

  Silver felt a trickle of sweat between her shoulders. Even with adrenaline coursing through her body, and the effort of walking in artificial gravity, the climate controls in her suit should keep the internal temperature and humidity in check.

  Silver was about to check the diagnostic array on her suit when Aliyaah stopped suddenly. She put up her hand to signal Silver to stop and stay quiet. The slight curve of the wing meant that they had no clear view of what lay ahead. Silver listened, but heard nothing other than her ragged breath. After a moment, Silver asked, "did you hear something?"

  Aliyaah shook her head. "No. But look at your radiation strip."

  The strip on Silver's suit was rapidly turning black, like it had in the hangar just before Jaz vanished.

  "I don't like this, Chief," Silver said, thinking now about the intense heat rushing from the refiner and the blisters on her palm from the carabiner.

  Aliyaah stepped forward slowly, and Silver felt compelled to follow, drawing level with Aliyaah. As they rounded the bend, they were temporarily blinded by light.

  The soft white light of the station's halogen bulbs danced against a vast expanse of brilliant iridescent crystals that lined the walls and floor. Silver blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust. She could make out tiny flecks of colour in the crystals, imperfections where the light refracted at an unusual angle, creating the appearance of movement, slow and languid, like a thick liquid or vapour.

  The heat in this section of the station was intense, like they had walked into a blast furnace. It was clearly more than their suits could handle. The metal grating beneath Silver's feet seemed to hum, as if the atomic bonds of the material were at risk of being broken apart.

  There was no sign of the missing crew, but it was hard to see beyond the glowing light. The crystals grew larger and more dense, obstructing passage between the west wing and the rest of the station. Unlike the crystals in the refiner, these were several feet in length, and they grew from the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. Aliyaah stepped a little closer, spotting something amid the crystals.

  Seeing a tangle of belt buckles, jewellery, and other personal effects, Aliyaah began to back up, bumping into Silver. She turned as quickly as her suit would let her and began to retreat, back to the relative safety of the SEV.

  On the headset, the Chief sputtered, "It's alive, Sil. It's got to be. And whatever happened back there, I know a mass grave when I see one."

  Thirteen

  Aliyaah and Silver had met in their second year at the academy, when they were assigned as bunk mates on a week-long retreat designed to build leadership skills. Silver had arrived at their lodgings first and settled into the top bunk, wanting to give herself the option of hiding from whoever she had been quartered with.

  When Aliyaah introduced herself, she had thrown Silver off guard. Silver was twenty-eight and had already spent enough time at the academy to see that people typically fell into one of two categories: the militant careerist who would stop at nothing to be chosen first for a mission; and the smart, socially awkward academic who was in it for the sheer joy of science, but who had been blessed with excellent physical health.

  Aliyaah seemed neither militant nor awkward. She was smart, attractive in a classically feminine way, and downright friendly. Silver immediately felt uncomfortable. She was much more at home with people who laid out their agenda in plain terms and figured out how they could leverage whatever you brought to the table. She was used to people who were bullish, motivated, and who tolerated little interference with the pursuit of their goals. Aliyaah seemed to be genuinely interested in Silver's life and aspirations, and not for her own career progression.

  Silver asked where Aliyaah had originally trained and was relieved when she said Nigeria. The Nigerian space program had produced some of the world's finest astronauts and scientists in the last few years and had been a huge support to NASA after funding was cut by the US government in the late 2010s and early 2020s. Many of NASA's projects had been turned over to private companies that recruited Nigerian personnel. When NASA's funding had been restored, just a few years before Silver had applied, they had been hard pressed to recruit teachers back from the posts they had been occupying in Nigeria.

  Now, the US and Nigeria were close allies and shared their expertise. The teachers originally from Nigeria, and others who had taught there, tended to be more pragmatic, approachable, and engaging than the handful who had stayed in the US. The old guard at NASA, Commander Marshall included, had grown increasingly bitter while maintaining an undue sense of patriotism. Some of the newer cadets seemed to be vulnerable to this divisive spirit. She had been glad to be bunking with Aliyaah, especially as Aliyaah didn't seem to hold it against her that she was American.

  Silver was only on the leadership retreat to round out her course credits for the term. She didn't really want to manage people. She was too busy thinking up ways to extend the rovers' reach and improve their carrying capacity. Aliyaah was different. She had as much engineering expertise as Silver, but she excelled at finding a person's strengths and putting them to work.

  Over the course of the week, Silver wondered if Aliyaah was particularly gifted at identifying a person's weaknesses. Perhaps that was why Aliyaah hadn't asked Silver anything about her family or life before the academy. Aliyaah wore her wedding ring on a chain around her neck and had called her husband once, a couple of days after they had arrived. Silver had excused herself, saying she wanted to give them some privacy. While this was true, she had also found it difficult to hear such palpable love and respect, especially between a woman and a man.

  Aliyaah still wore the wedding ring on a chain around her neck. Silver had seen it a few times when they had been in their civilian clothes in the mess hall or rec room, but hadn't asked about it and had never heard Aliyaah mention her personal life. Still, it was common knowledge at NASA that Aliyaah's husband, a French politician, had been killed in the 2031 sarin gas attacks. Aliyaah had flown on her second Mars mission a year later, coming over in the first wave of engineers who would set up the biodomes in just a few sols before returning to Earth.

  The biodomes were Aliyaah's passion. She was a farmer's daughter, her mother having taught her how to test soil samples before she could even string together a sentence. In addition to overseeing the maintenance and operation of the SEVs, refiners, and rovers, Aliyaah was the station's Chief Botanist. She was tasked with biodome operations and the success of the small farm that provided food for the station.

  Building a colony on the red planet required most people to straddle multiple roles. Silver was a rarity in that her expertise and responsibilities were mostly limited to the rovers, refiners, SEVs, and rockets: basically, anything that had a guidance system and moving parts. Aliyaah was a polymath, a natural leader, and a good friend, even if Silver had deliberately kept her at a distance over the years.

  When Aliyaah had turned to run back to the SEV, Silver hadn't hesitated in following her. They needed to get as far away from those crystals as possible. The amount of radiation they seemed to be emitting was reason enough, but Silver knew there were bigger factors at play.

  Once they were back in the airlock, Silver turned and put her hand on Aliyaah's arm. They looked at each other for a few seconds, getting their breath back. Silver raised her eyebrows, asking Aliyaah to say what they both already knew.


  "It's some kind of life form, yes."

  "Any idea what kind?" Silver asked.

  "A chemotroph, most likely. Maybe a chemolithotroph. Either it emits or it needs massive amounts of heat and humidity."

  "So, the explosion could have been a catalyst."

  Aliyaah nodded. "It seems so."

  "Do you think," Silver began, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words.

  "It reconstituted all the organic material, yes." Aliyaah words were matter of fact, but she turned to look at the control panel as she spoke and there was no disguising the crackle of her voice. When she turned back to Silver to signal that they should enter the SEV, Silver could see tears on Aliyaah's face.

  As Silver climbed back into the SEV, she asked Aliyaah what they were going to do.

  "We have to inform Commander Hadley of the situation. And then," Aliyaah glanced across at Silver, "And then I think the two of us should head to Biodome Three."

  fourteen

  Biodome Three was located due west of the station, over the ridge of the Schiaparelli crater. It took seven minutes, and very little energy, to get there using the zipline system, thanks to the reduced gravity on Mars. Such journeys were only possible on clear sols, when crew would strap on a harness and hook themselves to the zipline, then fly high up away from the station, over the ridge of the crater, and down towards the biodome. Their suits protected them from normal atmospheric conditions, but the system was shut down during solar storms and only essential trips were undertaken using the SEV.

  While the SEV had significantly better shielding than an EV suit, the crater's steep slopes made for a treacherous journey. The rovers were much better equipped to navigate such terrain, but these weren't passenger vehicles and were typically several kilometres away exploring new areas of the planet.