Trapped on Venus

by Carl Conrad

  “There’s got to be a way. We can’t just give up without trying!”

  They were both aware of that one, cold, unwavering fact – they had to find a way to

  get back to the ship. The bulbous lumps of gelatin continued to throb in the pools, looming ominously like great quagmires of sludge as they blocked all hope of escape. Marty and Scott were without ideas, without comprehension of these mysterious creatures, yet felt the breathless tick of each second as it swept by.

  Scott looked out at the three creatures again, then glanced down at his watch – nine and a half minutes left....

  “What about sound, Marty? Maybe they communicate by sound – some kind of ultrasonic vibrations, something they don’t need vocal chords for.”

  “But, the atmosphere isn’t dense enough to transmit sound, Scott. I’ve checked it out. There isn’t any....”

  “The ground! What about the ground? Vibrations travel through anything solid. Maybe we can get through to them by stomping on the surface. It might scare them off or at least make them move! Let’s try it, Marty. Let’s try it! We’ve got nothing to lose.”

  The astronauts pounded their feet as vigorously as they could on the dusty crust, watching to see if there was any response from the creatures – a sudden change of color, a pause in their rhythm, even a stray ripple through the pool. But, nothing changed. The creatures remained as unresponsive, as ever-impending, as before.

  “We’ve got a little less than eight minutes left, Scott,” Marty said, a painful tinge of fear in his voice. “Maybe we should just make a run for it.”

  The idea had possibilities. Scott knew that it would be difficult to move with any speed or precision over the bleak, powdery terrain in their space suits, but time for caution was rapidly disappearing.

  “All right,” he agreed. “Let’s try it. You go to the right, and I’ll take off to the left. Maybe we can confuse them enough to get by.”

  “Roger,” was Marty’s tentative reply.

  In no longer than it took to agree upon the plan of action, Scott and Marty were off in opposite directions. Their movements were sluggish, cumbersome in the bulky suits, but the pressing danger of rapidly diminishing oxygen levels spurred them to a swiftness they had never before realized. They scuffed through the soil in determined strides, bucking forward in short hops that splayed the dusty Venusian crust like the wake of a boat plowing through the water. Their breathing increased. Grunts and gasps echoed through their helmets in a pugilistic battle for more oxygen. They labored forward – hurrying.

  But, as they approached the perimeter of the pools, the creatures darkened even more until they became almost black in color. The tempo of their undulations increased and the masses of jelly-like sludge puffed even larger in size. Then, the ground in front of both astronauts cracked sharply, splitting as if an earthquake had trembled beneath, leaving gaping holes in the crust. Again they were blocked from advancing.

  “It’s no use, Scott!” Marty cried out, almost hysterical. “We’ve had it! They’re not going to let us get by!”

  Scott knew what the tone in Marty’s voice indicated as he felt the same tremor of panic explode inside himself: they were trapped. Still, he fought for self-control.

  “We can’t give up yet, Marty. We just can’t! There’s still time left. We’ve got time.” He glanced down at his oxygen level, seeing that the needle had slipped into the red zone, the area designating less than five minutes of oxygen left. “We have to communicate with them, we just have to! We’ve got to make them understand that we can’t survive out here without oxygen! Think, Marty! Think!”

  The creatures remained throbbing in the pools, almost defiantly challenging their escape. What is it they want? Scott thought. Why are they keeping us here? What will happen to us now? Marty thought. What will they do to us?

  The questions seemed to come faster than the answers. Their path was blocked, and all advances were thwarted by the primitive beings in front of them. They were trapped, stranded, cut off from their one means of survival – the ship. Are they holding us captive to study us, or kill us? Marty asked himself. Do they know the consequences, to us, of what they’re doing? Scott thought. Are they even intelligent enough to know? If they know what they’re doing, this could be murder!

  Scott looked down at the creatures again. He watched the massive glob in the center undulate in that slow, torturous rhythm that was now so familiar to him; pulsing, throbbing, growing outward and in with each passing second. He watched the creature change color, its hues going from a light gray to an almost deep and violent black. He watched the roll, the constant metamorphosis from one shape and size to another, the tempo, unwavering as it oozed forward then back; and he watched the gelatinous layers of the pool grow thicker then thin, seeming almost to harden at times from the intense heat of the Sun. These things all mean something, Scott thought to himself. They’re clues, answers. All the explanations are right there. But, what? What does it all mean?

  Marty interrupted his thoughts.

  “How much time have you got left, Scott?” There was a dismal, sad, defeated tone to his words. It was as if he had given up.

  “About four minutes,” Scott answered, hastily.

  Marty’s own oxygen level had dipped to three and a half minutes. Apparently, because of his now excited pulse rate, he was consuming oxygen at a much faster pace than Scott. He was rapidly running out of the precious substance.

  “Scott, do something! We’ve got to get back to the ship!”

  “Calm down, Marty. Calm down! The more excited we get, the more oxy...”

  “I don’t care, Scott! I don’t care anymore! We’ve got to get out of here! I don’t want to die here! I don’t want to die without even having a chance to fight back. Do something! We’ve got to do something!”

  “Snap out of it!” Scott snarled. “Snap out of it, Marty! Don’t give up. There’s a way out of this, I know there is! We’ve just got to use our heads. We’re overlooking something because we aren’t trying hard enough, aren’t looking at the right things. We’ve just got to...” He paused, struck by an idea. “Marty... Marty! I think I’ve got it!”

  Marty froze. The conviction in Scott’s voice stirred hope in him. He turned.

  “It’s got to work, Marty. It’s just got to... We’ll use fire!” He was already reaching behind him as he spoke. “We know things will burn out here because of what happened in the ship. So, all we have to do is use it. I think we can scare them off with it!”

  “But, how?” Marty stammered. “How are we going to start a fire out here? We haven’t got time! We haven’t got anything to burn, nothing to use!”

  “With this – the lens from the camera!” Scott answered. He wrenched the camera out in front of him where he could work with it, then snapped it off the extension rod that attached it to his cooling unit. It was a very expensive piece of equipment – with its elaborate focusing mechanism and zoom attachments, and its ability to withstand these brutal conditions – but, it would now have to serve as their last hope for survival.

  “If I can... just... get this lens off,” he said, struggling to twist it, “I think we can use it... to focus the Sun on them. We can use it... like... a magnifying glass – focus it on them until they heat up... until they can’t stand it.”

  He twisted the lens again, frantically trying to break it free from the camera body. “I think the Sun’s the reason they have to keep moving. If they didn’t, it’d probably dry them out like the rest of the planet. So, if we can increase the heat on them, focus the Sun more directly on them, I don’t think they’ll be able to take it. They’ll have to... Here! Give me a hand, Marty. I... I can’t get it by myself. I can’t get a good enough grip on it.”

  Marty was already shuffling across the surface, filled with new enthusiasm. It’s a possibility, he thought. It just might work! He stopped within arm’s reach of Scott, taking a quick glance at his watch. Two and a half minutes remaining.

  “I can�
��t... seem to get a good... grip on it. It... it’s on there too... tight,” Scott gasped as he struggled desperately to get the lens off. “It... it’s too...”

  “Wait a minute, Scott. Try prying it off on my converter unit. Maybe you can get some leverage on it.”

  “We can’t Marty! It might tear a hole in your suit.”

  “Forget about the suit! We haven’t got enough time left to worry about it. It’s not going to do me any good, anyway, if we can’t get back to the ship!”

  Scott ceased his struggling. “All right. Turn around!”

  Marty turned and Scott worked the camera in between the metal oxygen transfer unit and the suit mount. There was just enough room for it. Then, using it like a bottle opener, Scott jerked back with all the strength he could muster. The lens snapped free. But, there was a dent in Marty’s converter.

  “Are you all right?” Scott asked. “There’s a....”

  “Forget about it! Get the lens, Scott! Yes, I’m all right. There’s nothing we can do, anyway! Just get the lens!”

  Scott stooped to pick the lens up from between them. It was difficult to bend in the stiff suit, but he was able to reach it. He smudged his glove across the face of the lens, dusting it clean, then tried to focus the thin, blinding beam of light emanating from it onto the creature in the center pool. The harsh, white light narrowed on the creature’s pulsing form, looking almost like a rod of solid glass stretching between the two. But, there was no change.

  “It’s not working, Scott! It’s not doing anything!”

  “Maybe I’ll have to move closer,” he said, continuing to focus the light on the same spot as he advanced. “It has to work. It just has to.” His words were as much a prayer as they were an attempt to concentrate all his energies on the creature in front of him.

  “Move closer, Scott! Keep moving!” Marty cried hysterically. “You’ve got to get closer!”

  Chapter 7 – Finding A Solution

  Scott was less than ten feet from the creature now, but still continued to advance. The monstrous glob of pulsating jelly loomed like a cliff wall in front of him; moving, rolling, swaying malevolently in an undiminished tempo. Slowly he edged his way forward, concentrating every instinct, every thought, on the organism which stood between them and the ship. Then, he stopped.

  The creature yawned upward, then began to turn darker and slowed its undulations, deepening more and more until it was nearly the color of charcoal. Scott steadied the beam even more, watching as the creature withered smaller and smaller, slowly dissipating into the pool. Then, like a pond quickly drying up, the surface of the pool crusted over. It was as if the creature was forced to seek refuge, relief from the Sun, beneath the surface. Then, the brilliance of the Sun quickly baked the no longer moving pool into a wafer hard crust. All that remained was a ruffled blanket of powder.

  Scott turned the beam toward the other two, aiming the Sun’s beastly white heat at their mushrooming shapes. They bloated, blackened, then oozed into the pools, leaving behind only a sedimentary topsoil of bleak terrain. The way was clear!

  Scott stepped to where the rim of the pool had been, tested it cautiously, then continued on toward the ship. Marty needed no coaxing to follow.

  Their oxygen levels had dipped dangerously low, leaving them with less than a minute before they completely exhausted their supplies. They drew their breaths sparingly, at times even gasping for more oxygen as they made their way quickly toward the ship. It was only a little farther. Just a few breaths away. Stay calm, they thought. Stay calm. You’ll make it. Just another step or two...

  They reached the ladder of the ship not a second too soon.

  “Scott... My unit just went dead.”

  The deathly calm in Marty’s voice froze Scott on the first rung of the ladder. His unit was dead. That meant that Marty was no longer having oxygen pumped into his suit, that the cooling unit would now rapidly begin to heat up, leaving him without protection from the searing Sun. Only the oxygen left in his suit could keep him alive, and yet, the more of it he used, the greater would become the pressure of the atmosphere on his body.

  Scott wasted no time sorting through the avalanche of alternatives which flashed through his mind. He acted blindly, instinctively, stepping from the rung to allow Marty to go first. Marty grabbed the ladder, but knew that he wouldn’t have enough strength to open the craft door.

  “No,” was all he said.

  Scott understood the cryptic message and clamored up the ladder with a speed inspired by urgency. Rung after rung he groped his way toward the hatch, feeling Marty’s faltering movements behind him, but not hesitating to look back. Just hang on, he pleaded. Just hang on a few more seconds. Just a little farther...

  His hand reached for the wheel of the outer door, wavering slightly as he extended his reach, finally grabbing it firmly and twisting it with abnormal strength. The wheel rotated once, and the hatch broke free. He swung the door back, and hoisted himself through the passageway, breathing hard from the strain and exertion.

  “Scott, I...”

  Scott barely heard the weak gasp and choking which followed. He knew Marty was in trouble. He pivoted in the craft with as much haste as the small area would allow, and caught a glimpse of Marty’s hand trembling only a few inches from the hatch. He lunged for it.

  His own strength was leaving him now, and the bulky gloves on his hands prevented him from squeezing as tightly as his panic demanded, but he grabbed and held on. Marty’s suit sagged under the grip, slowly and steadily collapsing from the atmospheric pressure. Scott pulled with all his strength, straining, clenching his teeth, tensing every fiber of his body until he thought he would burst from the effort, trying desperately to pull his friend inside the craft.

  Marty’s body was limp, but he strained to help – choking, wheezing, gasping until only a hush of silence flowed eerily through Scott’s helmet. Was he dead? Had he been crushed by the tremendous pressure of the atmosphere? Inch by inch, Scott dragged him the last few feet into the cabin.

  Quickly, he grabbed the hose from the ship’s oxygen exchange system and forced it into Marty’s adapter. He twisted the seal and watched anxiously as the needle of the gauge creeped upward, pressurizing then maintaining the flow of oxygen. Then, as quickly, he attached a second hose to his own unit and breathed deeply as the cool air filtered through his suite. It was as if an air conditioner had suddenly been turned on, blowing the air sweetly and refreshingly through his lungs. But, there was little more he could do. He would have to hope that the oxygen would be enough to revive Marty.

  Scott leaned over him, and swung the cabin door closed. He twisted the thick wheel with tired, exhausted hands, feeling as if the weight of the world had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. They were safe. At last, they were safe from the perilous, unpredictable world of Venus outside; protected and secure. Scott slumped back against the cabin wall.

  So much has happened, he thought. So many inconceivable things had taken place, things that we couldn’t have prepared for or been expected to understand. It’s so different out there, so unlike anything I’ve ever seen or experienced before. So strange... so alien... so incomprehensible. Everything that happened – the fire, the plant, the pools, the radio failure, the tests, experiments, struggles, fears, panic, solitude, beauty, haste, apprehension – everything that happened, everything we felt and did, so unexplainable, so – he struggled for a word – so, unnatural, unreal. And, so many billions of dollars were spent to get us here, he went on, billions so that we could study and learn from this planet. But we’ve barely scratched the surface. We have no way of understanding it, no way of explaining or rationalizing what goes on. How can we explain fires without oxygen, or life without water? The strange behavior of the soil, the way it cracks and splinters then seems to weld itself back together again? And, the creatures... How do they survive? What, or how, do they eat and nourish themselves? Do they reproduce, or is death an unknown element here, non-existent and unnecess
ary?

  It’s more than merely a mystery, he thought, it’s a challenge to our very sense of understanding. There’s so much more to the universe, so many intricacies and contradictions that we don’t even know about, that understanding it is beyond our comprehension. We’re so small, so young and insignificant in the scope of things, that we aren’t even capable of considering life other than our own. We breathe, so we assume that everything else must also breathe in order to survive. We talk and walk, build factories, submarines, automobiles, spaceships, hotels, resorts – so many millions of things – always assuming that to be our purpose, our goal, our reason for living without ever assessing the alternatives, without ever considering other means of existence.

  Why do we live as we do? Why do we continue in the same directions with the same unwavering goals, year after year, always building more without understanding why, or for what purpose? Could the Earth – could we, the human race – be the only planet in the solar system to insist upon laboring in the shadows of our own productivity; hoarding this, owning that, perpetually struggling between ourselves over what belongs to who, and who belongs to what? Our own kind – people – fighting, killing, cheating, lying, stealing from one another, destroying one another in a senseless onslaught toward extinction. All this, all this to learn from and understand; yet, how often do we even appreciate the things we have?

  Scott’s mind sagged under the burden of questions. His own experience, the frustration and inadequacy of his knowledge when called upon to reevaluate, reappraise everything he had ever known or learned, was like a sudden jolt to his system. It left him fatigued, confused, awed and overwhelmed in the same moment.

  He tugged the liner from across the cabin interior, folded it, tucked it away, and sank back into the contours of his chair. He was tired, but thoughtful – confused. There’s so much to know, so much yet to learn, he thought as his eyes slowly began to close. So much to do, to find out, so many things still a mystery, still... Scott’s eyelids fell heavily together. Still... still.... His eyes closed, and he slept.