Sand and Shadow

by Laurisa White Reyes

  Amen.

  Posted by Reverend Lucas T. Bigelow

  Fess’s pant leg had been sliced from hip to knee. Dema pulled the fabric back to expose a matching red gash underneath.

  “What the hell did that?” Fess squealed.

  Adán came around the shelter and found him holding tight to Dema’s arm like a scared little boy who’d had a nightmare. On seeing Fess’s bloody leg, a rush of alarm momentarily immobilized him. Whatever had slashed the shelter could easily have killed Fess or any of them, but he couldn’t say that, couldn’t cause a panic.

  “I don’t know,” said Dema, examining the wound. “Didn’t you see anything?”

  “No!” cried Fess. “I was asleep, then something just cut me!”

  By now Jonah had finished vomiting and had half crawled, half dragged himself to collapse on the ground beside Fess. He lay on his side with his head resting on his arm, his eyes closed.

  Dema’s eyes met Adán’s, her expression fierce. She wanted the first aid kit.

  “Tink,” said Adán, “grab the kit off the rover, will you?”

  Tink stood back staring at the gaping wound in Fess’s leg. He didn’t respond at first, like he hadn’t heard Adán, but then he ran for the rover, snatched the kit’s handle, and was back seconds later. By now, Dema had torn away the shredded fabric of Fess’s uniform.

  “You were still awake, weren’t you, Jonah?” she asked. “What did you see?”

  “Nothing,” he said weakly.

  Dema unlatched the kit’s cover and rummaged through it with her clean hand. The other was smeared with Fess’s blood. She found what she wanted: a surgical needle and thread.

  “Tink, would you mind finding the antiseptic? It’s in a brown vial.” Dema carefully spread open Fess’s wound and checked for debris. Tink dug in the kit for the bottle while Fess groaned.

  “There’s dust in here, and fibers from your uniform,” continued Dema. “If I stitch you up without cleaning it properly, it could get infected. We don’t know what sort of bacteria exist here. Adán?” Dema looked up at him again, and he made a conscientious effort to pull himself together. “I need to get him inside to the showers. I’ve got to rinse this out.”

  Fess cowered, his eyes squeezed shut. “No, Dema. It’s gonna hurt.”

  Adán knelt beside Fess and patted his shoulder. “It’ll be all right, kid. Dema’s got a gentle touch.”

  Dema cast him a curious glance and gave him a little smile. Then she returned her focus to Fess.

  “I’ll try to be quick about it, okay?” she said. “In the shuttle, I’ve got some lidocaine. It’ll numb you right up, I promise.”

  Adán started to slide his hand under Fess’s arm to help lift him, but Dema stopped him. “Tink and I can manage,” she said. “I need someone to stay with Jonah. Bring him in when he’s strong enough to stand.”

  After Dema secured a couple of compresses around Fess’s thigh to stem the bleeding, Adán helped Fess onto his feet, or at least to one foot. Then Fess put one arm around Dema’s shoulders and the other around Tink. The going was awkward, but they managed to make it to the shuttle hatch without too much trouble.

  Once they’d gone, Adán turned his attention to Jonah who hadn’t shifted an inch from his spot in the sand. Adán was beginning to feel the bite of subzero through his suit. Jonah wasn’t wearing his helmet and now risked getting frostbite without it.

  “Jonah, I need to get you inside, buddy,” Adán said. “It’s too cold to stay out here for long.”

  Jonah didn’t move. Adán patted his shoulder. Even through his own visor, the smell of vomit on Jonah’s breath turned his stomach.

  “At least let me get you back into the shelter,” he added. “You can rest in there until you’re up to walking back to the shuttle.”

  “I’m not going back in there!” The sudden urgency of Jonah’s protest took Adán by surprise. Jonah peeled open his eyes. The desperate, confused look in them gave Adán chills. “There was nothing there,” Jonah hissed, forcing out each syllable. “There was nothing there.”

  Adán broke away from Jonah’s piercing gaze and scanned the horizon. If there had been something, someone should have seen it, shouldn’t they? The shuttle’s readings said it was more than a hundred miles to the nearest mountain. Except for the canyon a mile to the west, the remaining landscape was nearly flat in every direction. There was nowhere for an animal to hide, no way to sneak up on them unseen.

  The attack had come from the far side of the shelter, away from the shuttle. He and Dema had been distracted, talking. And they were closer to the shuttle than the shelter. And Tink was in front near the door. So, it could be possible that something might have approached . . .

  But from the size of the tears in the shelter wall, it was something big. Shouldn’t they have seen it run off, at least? There was nothing around them but open terrain. Nowhere to hide.

  There was nothing there?

  “C’mon, Jonah, I’m getting you to the shuttle. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

  The intensity of Jonah’s stare relaxed slightly, and the corners of his lips lifted. “You’re going to need those eventually,” he said, his voice trembling. “I mean, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To colonize a new world?”

  “Yeah, but don’t remind Dema and Lainie, all right? With five of us guys and only two of them, it’ll go to their heads.”

  “I don’t like those odds either,” said Jonah, managing a forced chuckle. With some effort, he raised both arms, his hands drooping forward like wilted flower petals. Adán took them both in a firm grip and hoisted him to his feet. Jonah wobbled a bit and welcomed Adán’s steadying arm around him. They started forward slowly.

  “Jonah,” said Adán cautiously, “you said you didn’t see what attacked the shelter. Were you facing away from it? Were you asleep?”

  Jonah moaned. “Sorry,” he said, leaning more heavily against Adán. “I feel a little dizzy. No, I wasn’t asleep. I was sitting at the table reading the greenhouse specs. The sooner we can grow our own food, the sooner we can stop eating that dehydrated crap.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Jonah paused as if trying to assemble his thoughts. “Fess was out like a light,” he began. “At least I thought he was, but then he suddenly sat straight up. It startled me, so I turned to see what had happened. There was this look in his eyes—a mix of confusion and fear—you know, like someone who wakes up all disoriented. I think maybe he heard something I hadn’t. He was right next to the wall. Anyway, this was all in half a second, and then there was this tearing sound, and these three rips just appeared, and Fess’s leg opened up. And then he was screaming.”

  “What was it?” asked Adán.

  “I don’t know. Like I said, there was nothing there.” Jonah looked at Adán as if pleading with him to confirm what he had just said, like he wasn’t exactly sure about it himself. When Adán didn’t say anything, Jonah continued. “I was so scared, it was all I could do to get myself out of there.”

  They were within two yards of the shuttle hatch now, and the closer they got the more relieved Adán felt. Once inside, maybe he could talk to Fess again. Maybe once he’d calmed down a bit, he would be able to think more clearly, tell Adán what he’d seen—or heard.

  Just then, Tink appeared at the shuttle hatch. “Hey, Lainie sent me to tell you the good news,” he said, though his eyes looked more worried than relieved. “Commander Dryker’s awake.”

  Adán found Dema, Lainie, and Tink in the Quarters gathered around his cryo unit. Dema was intent on the monitor, while Lainie and Tink stood back a little, allowing her room to maneuver as necessary.

  “How is he?” asked Adán. He came around the opposite side of the unit to face Dema. The first thing he noticed was Scott’s color. His skin was no longer sallow but had some pink in it.

  “His brain functions appear to have stabilized,” said Dema. “His heart rate’s good. A moment ago, I detected movement
in the fingers.”

  Lainie spoke up from behind Adán. “I was watching him for Dema,” she said, “and he moved. His hands twitched, and his mouth opened a little.”

  “When did that happen?” asked Adán.

  “About ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago. I would have told you right away, but Dema asked me not to leave him alone for a moment. I let her know as soon as she came back.”

  “I saw Fess out cold on the common room floor,” said Adán. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “He’ll be fine,” said Dema. “I cleaned his wound and stitched him up. I gave him a pretty strong sedative. In fact, I was going to send Tink back out to fetch his bedding. Fess will be out for at least eight hours. After that, he’ll need to remain in bed for a few days. The wound’s pretty deep.”

  “I’ll go right now for the bedding,” said Tink.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” asked Lainie, sincere concern in her voice.

  Tink gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. If something sneaks up on me, I’ve got the moves.” He took a couple of awkward karate chops at the air, and Lainie laughed a little. Then he left.

  “Did you bring Jonah inside?” Dema asked Adán.

  “Yeah, but the guy’s confused. I mean, he described what happened, but it doesn’t make sense. Anyway, I left him on a bench near Fess.”

  In the cryo unit, Scott Dryker’s body jerked.

  Dema peered at her E-Tab, now synced to the monitor. “I think he’s coming around,” she said.

  As if responding on command, Scott swiveled his head from side to side, and a soft, low moan escaped his mouth. A moment later, his eyelids fluttered open. His unfocused gaze wandered aimlessly. Then he fixated on the flickering overhead light. Adán watched the recognition dawn in Scott’s face as he slowly came to understand where he was. Then his eyes darted from the light to Dema’s face.

  “Scott, are you all right?” she asked him. “Can you hear me?”

  The commander’s eyes widened in astonishment. He blinked hard, and on seeing Dema once more, his expression froze. He shifted his face to the side and found Adán. When he saw Lainie, a look Adán couldn’t quite describe came over him. Was it disbelief? Or panic? Maybe a little of both.

  Scott’s body jerked again. His arms began flailing, and he shouted incoherently. Adán grabbed one of his arms, trying to hold him still, but Scott thrashed too violently to control, like some wild animal trapped in a cage. Dema reacted quickly. She keyed in a sequence of numbers on the monitor and almost immediately Scott’s body relaxed. His eyes, however, remained fearful. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but all that came out was a series of inarticulate sounds.

  “You’re okay, Scott,” Dema said. “I’ve just given you a small dose of Demerol. You had a rough time coming out of cryo, but there have been no other complications. You’ll feel some muscle cramping and a little disorientation at first, but it’ll pass. You’re all right, Scott. You’re alive.”

  Scott squeezed his eyes shut. His lips quivered as he tried to speak again. “H-how m-many—”

  Dema slid her hand up to Scott’s forehead, smoothing his hair back from his face. “How many?” she asked. “How many what?”

  Scott swallowed. Adán noticed how dry his lips looked.

  “He’s thirsty,” said Adán. Rather than ask Lainie to go for water, he went himself. In the common room, Tink had returned and was gently rolling the sleeping Fess onto one of the mattresses from the shelter.

  “How is he?” asked Adán, filling a cup at the aqua mixer.

  “Heavy.” Tink grunted as he shifted Fess into place and pulled a blanket over him. Then he grabbed a second blanket and draped it over Jonah, who had laid his head on the table and fallen asleep.

  Adán wondered again at the strange circumstances of Fess’s injury, how something big enough to cause it could attack and retreat without being seen. He wondered, too, if the attack on the shelter was related to the damage on the shuttle.

  The cup filled too quickly, and he poured a little out.

  “How’s Dryker?” asked Tink.

  “Awake now,” said Adán. “Trying to talk.”

  “Good.”

  “Did you see anything out there just now?”

  “No. Course, I didn’t really want to. I got Fess’s stuff as quick as I could and hustled right back.” Tink sat down at one of the tables. “What do you think did it?”

  Adán still held the cup beneath the faucet. A single drop fell into it, sending tiny ripples across its surface. “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Do you think—” Tink rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip. “Do you think maybe it was the same thing that damaged the shuttle?”

  “Maybe.”

  Adán waited for Tink to say something else, but instead he laid back on the bench, stuffing a rolled-up towel beneath his head, and turned on his tablet.

  When Adán returned to the Quarters with the water, Scott’s eyes were closed again.

  “He fell asleep,” Dema said, looking up with an uneasy smile. “Don’t worry. He’s really weak and needs to rest. He’ll probably wake up starving in a few hours.”

  “Jonah’s out, too. Maybe we should all get some sleep.”

  Lainie stood nearby, arms folded defensively across her chest. She looked on the verge of tears. Dema must have noticed, too, because she slid a comforting arm around her shoulder.

  “You’re exhausted, Lainie,” she said. “I think we should all stay in the shuttle tonight. We’ll make room.”

  “Agreed,” said Adán. “I’ll have Tink remove another table.”

  “Tink’s back?” asked Lainie, hope in her voice.

  “Yeah.”

  Lainie looked at Dema as if asking permission. Dema nodded. “Go on. Get some sleep.”

  Adán sensed something lingering underneath Dema’s usual confidence. After what happened in the shelter, she was afraid—and Adán couldn’t blame her. They were all afraid.

  “So, where the hell are we?” Fess hobbled to a bench and lowered himself onto it, his injured leg jutting out in front of him, stiff from the layers of bandages Dema had wrapped around it. He accepted a steaming paper cup from Lainie, sipping it cautiously.

  They’d all slept surprisingly well despite the events of the previous day. Even Adán had passed out the moment his head hit his pillow. Now the Carpathia’s crew sat around one of the tables eating rehydrated scrambled eggs and drinking cocoa. Even Dema had momentarily left Dryker to join them.

  Jonah stroked the cross around his neck. “We know this isn’t Europa. So, how hard could it be to figure out what planet this is?”

  They all looked to Tink, who had spent his three-hour watch isolated in the shuttle cabin studying data and records the rest of them could hardly decipher. He slid his tablet to the center of the table and switched it on.

  “Computer, display image.”

  A three-dimensional holo of the planet appeared, rotating a foot above the tablet, a floating ginger-colored orb with dark jagged lines across its surface.

  “This image is being projected from the shuttle’s sensors and data banks,” Tink explained, “in a holographic form intended to give us a realistic impression of what this planet looks like.”

  Adán stood back from the table, letting the steam from his cup warm his face. From this vantage point, he could see the holo and the faces of most of the crew. They looked worried but hopeful.

  “It kind of looks like Mars,” said Lainie. “Are we on Mars?”

  “Naw, man. It looks more like Io, one of Jupiter’s other moons.” Fess set down his drink. The brown liquid sloshed, and a little spilled over the rim onto the table. “Maybe we just landed on the wrong moon?”

  Jonah retrieved a cloth rag from a drawer and handed it to Fess, who used it to swipe up the spill. “We couldn’t survive on Io,” said Jonah. “Its atmosphere is mostly sulfur dioxide. If we’d landed there, we’d all be dead.”

  Tink pressed a fingerti
p against his tablet screen, and the holo enlarged, the landscape details becoming clearer. “We’re not on Mars or Io, or any planet in our solar system,” he said.

  Everyone shifted uncomfortably.

  Out of the solar system? Impossible, thought Adán. The program they’d all been a part of for two years specifically stated that they would be colonizing Europa. A coalition of international governmental space agencies had established the Europa Project to train and transport a team of qualified colonists to Jupiter’s moon to dig wells, build greenhouses and power sources, in essence, lay the foundation of a society where humans could exist. It was Star Trek in real life, humans boldly going where no one had gone before.

  But they hadn’t landed on Europa or any planet anywhere near Earth. So, where were they—and how did they get there?

  Tink pulled up a long list of running data beside the planet’s image, pointing out various equations and numbers.

  “The planet we’re on now is, as you already know, tidal locked. It has a similar atmosphere, temperature, and gravitational pull to Earth and occupies the same habitable distance from its sun as Earth does to ours. It has water, though whatever liquid water exists here is likely located beneath a frozen crust. That’s what these dark spots might be.” He pointed out several shaded areas on the holo.

  “What about those lines?” Fess said.

  “Fissures in the planet surface, some several miles deep.”

  “Rivers?” asked Lainie.

  “Maybe at one time,” replied Tink. “Or they could have resulted from massive quakes. The rest of the planet is pretty much desert.”

  “Duh,” said Jonah. “As if we didn’t already know that.”

  Dema hadn’t said anything yet. She stood near the open door to the Quarters, keeping an eye on Scott who had been sound asleep in Adán’s cryo unit since the previous night.

  “If we’re not in our solar system,” she ventured, “then are you saying we don’t know where we are?”

  Tink released a slow breath as if preparing to deliver bad news. “We’re on Gliese 581g.”