by A. L. Mengel
She pulled the sheets down and reached outwards, away from the bed she was lying in. She turned to the side and felt around the darkness, but there was just a stark, cold plastic table on the edge of the bed.
And silence.
The room was black as night, as quiet as a grave, and there was a slight, deep hum which she could not quite place, but appeared to be emanating from the floor.
It might have been still in the early morning, perhaps?
And the sun had yet to rise.
But what had happened last night?
She closed her eyes again as she pushed the covers down with her feet. She tried, but couldn’t remember anything from the previous night. She couldn’t even remember going to bed.
She swung her legs out and over the side of the bed and placed her feet on the floor. It felt like cold linoleum. She saw the shadow of what looked like a snake lamp on the bedside table. It came on, by itself, with a snap and light bathed the room.
It seemed skinny yet long, stark white, and there were matching drapes hanging on the far wall. Furnishings were plain and also white. She turned around and looked back down at the bed, there were sheets, a blanket.
All white.
Had she been injured?
Was this a hospital room?
She fumbled through the sheets.
And then lifted the blanket up. No remotes, no call buttons. No televisions. No beeping machines next to her bed.
Just a plain, stark white room, sparsely furnished.
She sat up and swung her legs over the side. There was no emotion. No feeling. No sense of wonder as to where she was or how she got there. Just the simple hum that emitted from the floor.
A slight drone.
Deep, methodical, yet smooth.
Like a distant cello playing a single, solitary note; a piece of music which deemed itself eternal, with no rest, no pause at the end of the stanza.
The floor felt stark and cold and her knees sodden.
As she stood, she wobbled a bit, bending forward and grasping her knees with her hands, and startled at the soft feel around her bone. She steadied herself on the bedside table and saw a bag marked “Drainage”.
Was there some significance to this plain room?
Some secret foundation?
She walked over to the window and parted the curtains.
She gasped as it opened to a sea of stars. Tiny, pinpoint white dots in a black, motionless sky.
Nothing more.
Just the silence of the cosmos.
And then there was a knock on the door.
Three quiet raps.
And then the patience of silence.
She turned her head. The door seemed far across the room. It was just as white as the rest of the room. There was a tiny peep hole in the center.
But she waited.
The room was long, which to her seemed undeniably vast, like the heavens on the other side of the hull; and the door was too far to explore or travel to.
Three more raps came again, breaking the silence.
And then a muffled female voice. “Counselor Abagail? Are you awake? It is nearly time for the group.”
The group?
She took a step closer towards the door, and then took a second step, never taking her eyes off of it.
And that small peep hole.
As she approached the side of the room, she looked over and saw the mess of covers on the small bed; the shining lamp on the bedside table; the white, barren chairs.
“Are you coming, Counselor Abagail?”
She moved a few feet towards the door.
The small peephole seemed larger now. She thought she could see the shadow of someone standing in the middle of the circle. She leaned forward, but she could not see who was standing outside.
Just a shadow.
Bits and pieces.
The image was inverted and curved.
She turned around once again. Looked back at the stars. This had to be a hospital room. She had to have been injured. On a ship?
Maybe that could explain the amnesia.
She swung the door open, looked down and saw a petite, smiling olive-skinned woman; her black hair was tied behind her face neatly and wearing a pants suit that was as stark white as the room.
The woman smiled and spoke softly.
“Have you drained the fluid in your knees?”
She shifted her face. “I…”
The woman entered and nodded.
“I see. I understand. Sit on the bed and we will take care of it.” The woman guided Counselor Abagail to the bed and ushered her to sit. The woman picked up a small bag from the small, plastic nightstand and opened the drawer with her free hand. There was a plastic container of wrapped needles in the front corner; she fished one out and held it out to Counselor Abagail who looked at it with a look of bewilderment.
“You must take care of this each time you wake,” the woman said, looking directly in her eyes. She explained the importance of knee fluid drainage as she pressed the needle into the side Counselor Abagail’s leg.
She winced as the sharp needle pierced her skin.
She watched the woman attach the bag and tubing to the needle with precision as her knees felt lighter. Blood tinged fluid slowly filled the clear, plastic bag. She looked up as the woman made eye contact with her and smiled.
She smiled back.
The woman’s teeth were a brilliant white contrast against her olive skin and dark hair.
“So…I…am here for a long time? How long have I been here?”
The woman removed the bag, stood and nodded as she went over to the bathroom and snapped on a bright, florescent light. Counselor Abagail could hear fluid draining into water.
“Yes, you have been here,” the woman said softly. “But each morning you ask me the same questions. And we go through the same routine. Especially with your knees. And we go over the same procedure.”
“What is wrong with my knees?”
The woman returned and fished the needle from the side of her knee seamlessly and without pain, and wrapped the tubing around the filled bag. There was the striking smell of alcohol, just for a moment, as she cleaned the skin.
As she rose and placed the unused items on the nightstand, she looked at her directly in the eyes, and started to apply a small, white, cylindrical object to the wound.
It looked like it could be a writing utensil.
She held it close to the side of her knee as a pinpoint blue light circled around the spot. “We are taking care of you,” she said. “We are seeing that you are nourished. And later, in group, we will continue to explore your mind. But we do seem like we have been spinning our wheels lately.”
“So I do not remember anything? I have trouble with my mind?”
She stood and looked down at her. She nodded. “Yes. This is the same conversation we have each morning, Abagail. The same exact one. And I would imagine you also had the same dream.”
Her face shifted as she leaned back. “The same…dream?”
The woman turned and pressed a small, dark panel on the wall, as a large section retracted and gathered some white folded clothes. She stood before Counselor Abagail, her hands clasped in front of her. “That will be more of what we explore in group today,” she said. “Now please, Ms. Abagail. There are facilities in that room. I will wait for you just outside the bathroom door as you ready yourself. Your clothes are laid out for you on the dresser.” She gestured to a small box across from the bed. “Please hurry, they are waiting for you.”
*****
Counselor Abagail emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a white robe and her head wrapped in a matching towel. The woman in white held some folded dark clothes up for her. “Put these on,” she said.
There was an announcement on the public address system which sounded throughout the ship. Counselor Abagail looked up towards the ceiling as a tinny, female voice filled the room:
ALL PERSONNEL TO ORIENTATION CHAMBER AT ONCE
!
The woman in white packed up the syringes and placed them in the top dresser drawer. “We must go,” she said. “That announcement is for you and the others.”
She stood slowly, dressed completely in black. She tied her red hair back behind her head. “Which…others?”
The woman in white placed her hand gently on Counselor Abagail’s back and ushered her out to a barren, stark white corridor. There were others shuffling through the hallway – women in white, other women in black, dressed exactly like she was.
ALL PERSONNEL TO ORIENTATION CHAMBER AT ONCE!
The message repeated, again and again, as they hurried together down towards the other end of the ship. The corridor was lengthy, and after a rushed walk, they reached a station with several pods where others were gathered.
“We will catch the hover tram,” she said. “Take it to Borderline. From there, it’s a short walk from the station.” Counselor Abagail looked at the others standing at the pods. They stood in groups in black and white clothes. Perhaps uniforms? Most were silent. A few others chatted quietly among themselves. And most were asking questions to those in white. After a few minutes, there was a hum, and a train, or perhaps a tram, appeared from a long, dark tube on the opposite end of the terminal. It stopped in front of those gathered at the pods with a slight hiss, but overall it was nearly silent. Doors opened outwards in front of each pod, as those in white ushered the others inside.
As the tram started moving, the woman in white leaned in towards her ear. “The ship is very large,” she said. “It would take too long to walk to borderline, so we take the tram.”
Counselor Abagail nodded and leaned her head against the cool glass, watching the ship pass before their eyes. The transport tube lined the edge of the ship.
Counselor Abagail looked to her left and her mouth dropped open. The hull of the ship was entirely clear; through it, she saw the vastness of the stars.
The tube reached across the entire span of the corridor offering a stark contrast of the plain white walls, flooring and doors, on one side. On the other side, the black vast galaxy.
She turned her head to the side and stared at the red sphere that hovered in close proximity to their ship; she ignored the message which sounded an additional time as she looked at the fiery red globe, covered in the orange terrains, mountains and moving clouds.
“Is that?” She turned towards the nurse who nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “That is the basis of your current mission. You will be going there.” She grabbed Counselor Abagail’s arm and urged her ahead.
“We must not be late,” she said. “Please, let’s move forward.”
“I am going there?” she asked. “To Mars?”
“All will be explained in the chamber,” she said as the tram pulled to a stop. “We’re at borderline,” she said as the doors opened. They headed down another corridor. As they reached the atrium of the orientation chambers, there were people scurrying about. Their white uniforms matched the interior.
The woman in white pointed Counselor Abagail to a large set of doors, which opened to rising chairs, in a darkened amphitheater.
“Go join them,” she said. “I will speak with you later in group.”
COUNSELOR ABAGAIL SLOWLY TURNED towards the doorway. Across the threshold, she saw the slant of the seats rising upwards. The entrance appeared to be mid-way up the rising seats, and when she paused on the verge of entering, she scanned the room.
As she looked up and to the left, and people filled the seats, a few were chatting among themselves quietly, but most were sitting, looking around the room with wide eyes. All were dressed in solid black, just as she was. As she paused for a moment, looking straight ahead, she focused on a man, a young brown-skinned man, sitting in a nearby seat, tapping his foot. He occasionally hooked his long bangs up and around his right ear, but it shortly fell just moments later.
And he would repeat the process.
He alternated between leaning forward, hunching over his knees, and then sitting back. He looked around the room nervously.
As she approached him, he looked up at her as she stood right next to his chair.
“Are you nervous?” she asked. She cracked a smile as she gestured to the empty chair. “Is that seat taken?”
He shook his head. “No, go ahead and sit.”
For a few minutes, they sat next to each other in silence as they each watched the room with others who were in similar dress, who seemed equally confused and who slowly populated the seats. As Counselor Abagail studied the group of people, she looked over at the young man.
He was still fidgeting.
After a moment, he snapped his head towards her. “Yeah…you know why we’re here?”
Counselor Abagail shook her head and sighed as she eased herself into the small, plastic chair. “Actually, I don’t. I just woke up on this big ship. Don’t remember anything else.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t even know how I got here.”
“Me neither. I woke up and this guy was in my room. All dressed in white. He said I had to drain my knees…I was like…am I in the hospital?”
“I don’t think so, but I had the same thoughts. And I asked the same questions,” she said. “But it seems to be a huge ship. Unless it’s some sort of space station. But it feels like we’re on a ship. Hovering. Or moving. Can’t really tell.”
“I don’t get any of this,” he said, looking forward and shaking his head back and forth. “I just find this all quite…strange.”
Counselor Abagail chuckled softly. “I had the same thoughts. And a similar experience.” She turned and faced the man, and extended her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Abagail. I’ve been called Counselor by the woman who helped me. But I’m not sure of the origin.”
The man nodded as he shook her hand. “I’m a bit blurry myself. But at least I know my name!”
He smiled. “Eli DeJesus.”
She nodded as she heard an audible tone sound from the ceiling.
All of the chairs which rose from a small, presentation area were now full of people. Everyone in deep black. Some wandered through the doors and quickly rushed to seats. Those had appeared to be among the last to arrive. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.
The tone sounded again.
A hush fell across the room as a small man wearing stark white appeared from a doorway just to the right of a presentation screen. He walked to a lectern in the center of the room and cleared his throat as Counselor Abagail raised her head and looked down at the lectern.
He appeared young, with dark hair.
“I have been sent by the Vegans, and I wanted to be clear why we have gathered you here,” he said. He moved away from the lectern as he walked across the small presentation area, back and forth, as he spoke. “Like you, I am human. But those who I am working for are not.”
There was a gasp from the audience.
The man nodded. “Do any of you remember how you got here?”
There was silence.
Counselor Abagail tried to remember. She remembered visions of what she thought had been the planet Mars, but before that, her mind drew a blank.
“My name is Moses. Nelson Moses. I have encountered and spoken with each and every one of you, although you may not remember it now. Now that we are millions of miles from your home planet.”
Moses walked towards front row of seats, where a young man with close cropped hair had been sitting, watching him. Counselor Abagail watched Moses approach the man, look down at him, and smile. He then looked up at everyone. “Do any of you remember planet Earth?”
A blue sphere appeared above them, and levitated over the group. Heads turned upwards as Moses continued. “This planet had been your home for millennia. Many years you existed on this planet. Earth. The third planet from the sun. Covered mostly by water. In the goldilocks zone from your sun, at a perfect distance for habitation. Unlike other planets, either too close, and too hot,
or too far away from the sun, and far too cold.”
The hologram turned and they saw a single, giant land mass in the center. “They called that giant land mass Pangea. But, eventually, over millions of years, Pangea broke apart. The land mass split up, as large pieces of the land drifted apart, creating the oceans and continents you once knew, in some of your lifetimes. And others only know the more recent topography of the planet.” As he spoke, the continents formed on the graphic.
He sighed, looking up at the hologram, his hands clasped behind his back, as the planet slowly stopped rotating. “And, as you see, this is what created your current predicament.”
Counselor Abagail’s mouth dropped open as she saw the water shifting, flooding the poles of Earth, as the planet again terraformed itself.
“We’re not here today to explore the questions of why that happened to your planet,” Moses said, returning to the lectern. “We are here today to address you directly. As I said before, I am a representative of the Vegans. But, like you, I am a human being.”
A man a few rows up from the presentation area raised his hand as Moses nodded to him. The man stood. “Why Mars? Why are we at Mars? If we are looking to set up colony, hasn’t it been determined in the past that Mars was a dead planet?”
Moses nodded. “Mars holds many mysteries,” he said. “We are at a brief stop to obtain resources left at a research facility known as the Red Outpost. But Mars is not our destination.”
Counselor Abagail stood. Moses looked up to her. “Yes, Abagail?”
She cleared her throat. “I need some explanation here. Because my mind is drawing a complete blank. I appear to be suffering from some version of short term memory loss.” Some of the others spoke up, agreeing that they had the same condition.
“I only remember waking up today,” she said. “A woman in white came into my room. She hooked me up to a drainage bag…what is happening?!”
The crowd swelled in agreement.
Moses raised his hands. “Please, everyone! Please. I must have your silence. I must have your attention.”
Counselor Abagail called down to Moses. “How did we get here?”