Mars Station Alpha

by Stephen Penner

  Stanton smiled at Gold, glad to share the moment, then he remembered where he was, and why.

  "We should get back," he gruffed. "Help me find Mtumbe's antibiotics."

  Gold nodded and they did a sweep of the sickbay. "Here they are," announced Gold holding up a bottle of pills from the counter. "Did he have more?"

  "No, just those from the ship," Stanton answered. "The sick bay was all out, remember?"

  "Right," said Gold, and she dropped the pill bottle into her suit's pouch. "I guess we can go now."

  Stanton was standing in the middle of the room, doing his best, within the constraints of the suit, to look up at the ceiling.

  "What is it?" Gold asked.

  "Just looking for the hull breech," Stanton answered. "I don't see anything."

  "Oh," said Gold.

  "It's probably just too small to see," Stanton went on. "Maybe a tear at a seam or something. Too bad almost."

  "Why too bad?" asked Gold.

  "If it were a hole in the roof, at least we'd know right away and could fix it quickly," Stanton explained. "If it's just a tiny tear in some coupling, it's going to take forever to find it. I don't think we'll have enough time to fix it. That means we've lost the sick bay."

  Gold considered the captain's comment. "How much time do you think we have?"

  "If the first crew had been here," he started, "if this all had just been a simple communications issue, we would have had eighteen months, like the original plan. But now..."

  He raised his space-suited arms and motioned at the sickbay and the station beyond. "Now we know we're going back to Earth. The only question is how long we stay while we try to figure out what happened to the first crew. We've lost one of our crew already. Another is injured and sick. Another is losing his mind. And we haven't even been here two days yet."

  "So why don't we just head home now?" Gold suggested.

  "Because that's not our mission," Stanton was ready with his reply. He'd been thinking about it already. "Our mission was either to relieve the first crew if they were okay, or, if they weren't, to find out why. They aren't, so our mission is to find out why."

  Gold nodded inside her helmet. "Agreed. But you haven't answered the question. How much time do you think we have?"

  "Ordinarily we would have had about ten days before Mars and Earth started to get too far apart to be able to get back home again," Stanton answered. "That's what I had in my head when we landed. Ten days, and we could stretch it to twelve or thirteen if we really had to."

  He threw his arms wide again. "But with everything that's happening, I don't think we'll last ten days. How can we keep Petrov under guard for eight more days without a brig? How can we treat Mtumbe's infection for eight more days without a sick bay? How can we live eight more days in a haunted space station?"

  Gold was struck by the word. "Haunted? Did you really just say the station is haunted?"

  Stanton shrugged in his suit. "It's built on some ancient Martian burial ground or something. We've been inundated with unexplainable mishap after unexplainable mishap, and the psychic cosmonaut from the haunted Russian village is hearing spirit voices and having visions."

  Gold just looked at him through her helmet.

  "Or else it's all just a coincidence," Stanton laughed. "And a whole lot of bad luck."

  It took a moment for Gold to formulate her response.

  "I would think the captain of a space ship would be a scientist above all," she said, "and would draw conclusions based on facts and observations, not superstitions and fears."

  Stanton figured she expected him to respond negatively. Instead, he smiled.

  "Facts, huh?" he asked.

  "Yes," Gold affirmed.

  "Then why don't you stop lying to me?"

  Chapter 40

  "Lying to you?" stammered Gold. "I don't know what you mean."

  "I mean," grinned Stanton. "That I know you didn't carve 'Croatoan' in the corridor wall. And until you admit that and tell me why you lied to the entire crew, it's going to be hard to trust you, let alone explain my decisions."

  Gold looked at him, apparently unsure what to say.

  "In fact," he went on, "as long as you lie and mislead, it's impossible for me to have the information I need to make the right decisions for our team."

  Gold's expression changed slightly, from no expression at all to one of the slightest consideration.

  "One person is already dead, Gold. How many more need to die before you'll actually be part of this team?"

  "You can't lay Dekker's death at my feet, Captain."

  "I can and I will," Stanton replied. "Part of the reason we even went out there was because Dekker saw the stone formation and told Petrov. That convinced Petrov there were ghosts on Mars and he started freaking out. So we went to see what it really was. I was expecting an interesting, but natural rock formation. Not Mars Henge."

  Gold stared Stanton in the eyes, her own hardening into tight slits. "You told me you were looking for the missing comm equipment."

  Stanton paused. Finally he said, "Hm. How about that?"

  "So you lied to me too."

  "I don't know who I can trust," Stanton explained.

  "You mean you don't trust me."

  "I want to trust you," Stanton said, "but you're giving me reasons not to."

  "Well, then let's get back into the station," Gold grumbled. "If you can't trust me with simple information, you certainly can't trust me with your life, which is exactly what we're doing out here together."

  Stanton nodded. He'd accomplished his goal. It hadn't escaped his notice that Gold had said, 'You lied to me too,' thereby confirming her own lie.

  He knew some of Gold's protest was just show to get him to stop pressing her. He also knew some of it was a genuine sense of betrayal. He knew it because he had felt it too when Lin explained that Gold had lied to him.

  He was irritated that it bothered him so much. But he was glad to see it irritated her just as much, maybe more.

  "All right," Stanton replied. "Let's go."

  They made their way back up the emergency ladder and out onto the roof. Stanton poked his helmeted head down for one more look. No sign of Dekker's body, or how it came to be moved. No sign of the hull breech. At least they got the antibiotics.

  The walk back was uneventful. He didn't try to talk to Gold because he knew she wouldn't talk back. They just walked past the ruins under the space station. The sun was starting to set and it would soon be pitch black and deathly cold.

  When they reached the airlock, Stanton commed inside and Lin opened the doors for them.

  "Welcome back," Lin said. "How did it go?"

  Stanton disconnected his helmet with a whoosh, then lifted it off and looked at Gold. She did the same.

  "We got the antibiotics," Gold announced as she extracted the pill bottle from her suit pouch.

  Lin was visibly relieved. "Daniel, er, Commander Mtumbe will be glad to hear that," she said. Then she added, "He seems a little weak."

  Before Stanton could do much more than nod, Rusakova came running in. "What of Nils's body?" she practically pleaded. "Were you able to move it?"

  Stanton looked at Gold, and Gold at him. If Rusakova had moved the body, Stanton thought, she was doing a hell of an acting job.

  "Nils's remains are fine, Oksana," Gold assured her. "The breech in the sickbay hull was big enough to totally replace the station air with Martian atmosphere. It's cold and dry. He'll be fine till we can give him a proper burial tomorrow. Isn't that right, Captain?"

  Rusakova looked at Stanton, hope clear on her face. "Is that all true, Captain?"

  Stanton looked into her eyes and just couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth. "Uh, sure. Yes. Yes, what Gold said."

  Rusakova finally exhaled and managed a weak, but genuine smile. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you, Captain. And thank you, Agent Gold."

  She walked off back toward the commissary.

  Lin nodded to Stanto
n and Gold. "I'm glad you're back safely," she said, then she turned back to the control glass across the small room.

  Gold leaned onto Stanton's shoulder and put her full lips right next to Stanton's ear, her soft blonde hair falling against his cheek.

  "Now we're in a lie together, Johnny," she whispered.

  Then she patted him on the butt and sauntered off toward the entry bay to return her suit.

  Chapter 41

  Dinner was a quiet affair. Petrov ate in his room with Rusakova. Mtumbe took his antibiotics then ate in the commissary with Stanton and Lin. Gold said she wasn't hungry and wanted to lie down. By the time lights-out came around, everyone was glad for the opportunity to put the long, terrible day behind them.

  As they readied themselves for lights out, Stanton pulled Mtumbe aside.

  "I need your help with something tonight," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

  "Well enough," Mtumbe answered. "Probably a little more tired than I'd like, but that should go away now that I took my antibiotics. What do you need?"

  Stanton looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then he lowered his voice even more.

  "We need to send word back to Command," he whispered, so low Mtumbe could barely hear it. "About Dekker's death, and about the damage to the station from the sandstorm."

  Mtumbe nodded. "Agreed," he whispered back. "But why is it a secret?"

  "Gold." Answered Stanton. "I don't want her to know we're going to do this."

  "We?" joked Mtumbe. "Sounds like it's you who's doing this."

  Stanton smiled. "Yeah, but you agreed to help, remember?"

  Mtumbe nodded. "I should have known better. But why don't you want Gold to know? Do you really think she didn’t comm back to Earth?"

  "Well, she said she did," answered Stanton, "but I know she's lied to me before, so I can't necessarily believe she really did it."

  "Fair enough," said Mtumbe. "So what's the plan? You want me to lock her in her cabin while you go comm Command?"

  "Kind of the opposite," answered Stanton. "I'm going to go to her cabin and distract her while you sneak onto the ship and comm Earth."

  "Distract, huh?" Mtumbe elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "Her cabin, huh? Sounds dangerous."

  Stanton frowned. "Come on, Daniel, this is serious."

  "Not that I blame you," Mtumbe went on. "She's a fine looking woman. A little cold, if you ask me, but I'm not a captain. She might be perfect First Mate material, if you know what I mean."

  "Daniel?" said Stanton.

  "Yes, Captain?"

  "Shut up," Stanton smiled. "And that's an order."

  Mtumbe returned Stanton's smile. "Aye aye, Cap'n."

  Chapter 42

  "Knock, knock," said Stanton as he rapped on the doorframe of Gold's cabin. The door was ajar a few inches. Enough for Stanton to see that Gold had stripped down to her bra and shortpants.

  She turned to see Stanton, but didn't seem to care that she was in a state of undress. She also didn't say anything, but instead returned to what she was doing, namely pulling the sheet back to get into bed.

  "Agent Gold?" Stanton pressed. "Do you have a moment?"

  "For you, Captain?" she replied with a cold smile over her smooth shoulder. "Of course. Please enter my bed chamber."

  The bed chamber comment sent Stanton's heart racing for a moment. Or if not racing, at least it picked up from a walk to a light jog.

  "Thanks, Gold." He pushed the door open and walked in a few steps. "I thought maybe we should talk about what happened today."

  Gold shrugged and sat on her bed. She let her thin, muscular arms hang between her knees. Stanton tried not to stare at how it accentuated her breasts. He was pretty sure he failed.

  "So what happened today?" Gold asked. When Stanton didn't immediately reply, she added, "What happened that we need to talk about?"

  "Well, the whole honesty and trust thing, I guess."

  Gold nodded. "Yeah I figured that was it." She grimaced in thought. "I'm not sure we really need to talk about it. Seems pretty settled to me."

  Stanton was surprised. "Settled?" he asked. "It seems totally unsettled to me. That's what we should talk about."

  Gold shrugged and raised her palms. "Fine, if you want to be a girl about it."

  This wasn't going at all like Stanton expected. He really couldn’t figure her out. "A girl about it? What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means you want to talk about your feelings," Gold explained. "And you want everything 'out in the open' and 'on the table.'" She raised her fingers to make air quotes to emphasize the phrases. "And you just won't be able to 'move on' until we've said out loud all the things we're thinking inside."

  Stanton thought for a moment. "That's not what I want."

  Gold smiled. "It's not?"

  "No," Stanton answered. "I just wanted to make sure we have an understanding, especially about Dekker."

  "Good," said Gold. "I didn't want to have to stop liking you."

  She smiled sideways at him, a smile both cold and inviting, approving and defiant, reassuring and challenging.

  That sent his heart racing again, although in part because he remembered why he was really there and what he was really doing. How much would she hate him if she knew his real plan? Mtumbe hadn't made up his comments out of whole cloth. There was a reason he wanted to spend time and talk with Gold and it wasn't just to make sure she didn't interfere with Mtumbe's efforts to comm back to Command.

  "Glad to hear it," he said. Not a perfect reply, but good enough. He wasn't in high school and this wasn't the cute girl from his homeroom class. Still, it kind of felt a little like that anyway.

  Gold stared at him, but Stanton didn't say anything more, so she swung her hands together. "So," she emphasized the word with a quiet clap. "What's our understanding? You called this meeting, so I figure you've got something in mind."

  "Uh, right," said Stanton. "Well, I figure we should make sure we're on the same page when it comes to Dekker’s body."

  "Agreed," said Gold. She leaned back against the wall and crossed her legs. She had really nice legs. "We told Rusakova that we moved the body to a safe location."

  "I thought we told her it was safe inside the sick bay." Stanton countered.

  "Right, right," agreed Gold. "I just meant that we moved it from sitting there on the examining table or something. But we did tell her the room was breeched and so it was the same as if we'd taken it outside. That's what I meant."

  "So the body is still in sick bay, but we moved it to the floor, maybe a corner? And covered it?"

  "Right," said Gold.

  "Of course we also said we'd do the burial tomorrow," Stanton pointed out. "I'm not sure how we do that without a body."

  Gold smiled. "See, that's why it's good you came to talk to me. That problem goes away as long as you can think of a reason we can't get around to the funeral tomorrow."

  "But he deserves a decent burial," Stanton protested.

  Gold just stared at him for a moment. Then she shook her head slightly as she said, like a kindergarten teacher to the kid who eats paste, "We don't have a body, Captain. What are we going to bury?"

  Stanton nodded and raised an index finger. "Ah. Good point."

  He thought it over. "Then we'll need something else to explain the delay. I mean, we can't stall forever."

  "We don't have to stall forever," Gold explained. "We just have to stall until we leave this godforsaken rock. What did you say that'd be, maybe a day or two before we can leave? So we stall until then, lament our inability to give him a proper burial, then salute his memory to Deimos, Phobos, and the stars."

  Stanton was a bit taken aback. "Wow, I'm impressed. You've thought this all out, I see."

  "Not really," Gold smiled. "I've been doing this since I was a kid. With parents like I had you learned how to lie and keep the lie alive. This is nothing."

  Stanton wasn't sure what to say. He suddenly felt deeply ashamed that she had ope
ned up to him even as he was essentially deceiving her. He just hoped it would end up being worth it.

  He also wasn't sure whether he should ask what she meant by parents like she had. It wasn't the first time she had made a veiled reference to some trouble growing up. It seemed like an invitation to inquire, but he wasn't sure she really wanted that, or that he really wanted to know. That might be a one-way road to some place he'd rather just know existed without having to take the full tour.

  Still, he was flattered, and tempted, that she seemed to be opening just a crack for him at least to peer inside. He leaned forward to ask her.

  And that's when Mtumbe came smashing into the room.

  "Captain! Captain!"

  He looked like hell. He was out of breath and sweat was beading on his forehead. Plus his eyes were red rimmed and he was obviously favoring his injured leg again.

  Stanton's jaw dropped. What was Mtumbe doing? Didn't he know enough not to come find him while he was still talking to Gold?

  "Uh, Daniel?" he said. "Kinda busy here."

  Gold narrowed her eyes and looked at the two men.

  Mtumbe either ignored or didn't understand Stanton's message. "It's the comm system on the ship, Captain."

  Gold threw an icy stare at Stanton. "You bastard."

  Oblivious, Mtumbe repeated, "The ship's comm system, Captain. It's totally destroyed!"

  Chapter 43

  "You bastard," Gold repeated. "You lied to me. You tricked me."

  "I talked with you," Stanton asserted. "We can talk about who's been lying to who if you want."

  "Whom," said Gold.

  Stanton shook his head. "What?"

  "Who's been lying to whom," Gold corrected. "So you're a bastard with bad grammar."

  Just then Rusakova came rushing in. She too was dressed for sleep. She grabbed Mtumbe. "Did you say the ship's comm equipment is destroyed?"

  Lin walked up behind her, calmly, but listening intently. Petrov stood in the doorway of his cabin, close enough to hear.

  "Yes," answered Mtumbe. "It doesn't work at all."