Authors: Nolan Oreno
Saul achingly sat up and watched as his icon returned to a healthy golden glow, still in shock of the unexpected altercation that began as quickly as it ended.
“Why was the Commander was trying to kill you?" Franco asked in his high voice, cautiously approaching Saul. “I mean, shit, I knew you two hated each other, but I never thought it would go this far."
Franco Anton was an annoying man to most. His big ego sometimes made people overlook at how small he really was. As the employee of the United Nations from a very young age, Franco was taught to have a mind for confidence, if not arrogantly at times. He was groomed by the elites to observe the colonists of Mars and report any mission deviance to the United Nations officers back on Earth. He was a spy, and everyone on Mars knew this. Few liked him but respected that he did not care much about this fact.
Saul shook his throbbing head. “No, no it’s not like that," he sputtered. “No, listen Franco. I did nothing to him. I don't know what just happened."
“Well, something you did pissed him off.”
Saul staggered to his feet and looked at the Commander sleeping on the floor, impressed that Franco had it in him to put him there.
“Apparently my speech during the meeting made a bigger impact for him than I thought. And you would follow this guy? He’s not in the right mind to lead anyone," Saul said, taking advantage of the situation.
Franco glanced back to the Commander. “He just attacked you?"
“That’s right. Out of nowhere. I don’t know if I can trust a guy like this. He needs help.”
“I always thought he was taking it better than most," Franco interrupted. “He’s been hiding from us, sure, but I never thought he was losing it. Maybe that’s why he locked himself away."
Saul straightened his sore back. “Sad to say it, Franco, but I saw this coming. I did. He hasn’t been well and he’s been convincing all of you otherwise. I know it’s hard to admit, but the pressure of everything that has happened has finally gotten to him. He’s been strong for us, that is certain, but perhaps he needs to rest. We need to relieve him of his position, at least until he gets better. It’s just too much responsibility for one man to share alone."
Franco’s reluctantly agreed. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. We should go get the others."
“Of course," Saul nodded.
The two lifted the Commander and balanced him between their shoulders, slowly leaving the locker room and exiting into the hall. Before they reached the more populated areas of the Hub, Franco’s energy drained, and he halted.
“Come on, we’re almost there," Saul huffed. “Lift him back up."
Franco leaned up against a nearby wall, leaving Saul to support the Commander. “He’s too heavy. Must weigh at least two-hundred pounds. We need more help," said Franco.
Saul sighed, propping the Commander in a seated position. “Fine. Go find someone to help us. Hurry."
As Franco ran off, Saul inspected the cuts and bruises from the battle. The Commander did a fair amount of damage to his body, but not as much damage as he would do to him. This was the moment he had been waiting for. The moment when Saul could show the colony who the Commander really was and humanize him by putting his insanity on display. Once the Commander had lost the respect of everyone, Saul could finally take his place and return the colony to full operation. Everything was falling into place.
A moan came from the side of Saul, and he followed it to see the Commander rolled over. He was waking up from his slumber.
No. No
, thought Saul.
Not now.
He needed the others to see the Commander as he was: weak and helpless. He could not get away this time. He could not lock himself away from this truth. Saul rapidly mulled over a plan of action, looking back and forth down the hallway expecting the others, but they did not come. A ways down the hall Saul saw a door. Without further thought or wait, Saul began to drag the Commander by his legs towards it, feeling spasms in the man’s muscles as his body rebooted. He grew closer to the door but could feel stronger resistance from the Commander as his arms flailed at his sides, grappling at objects they passed.
“I want to go home, with the other children," the Commander said. “I don’t want to go back to the forest."
Saul hurried, and the vault door coming into sight. He could see now that it was one of the Decompression Rooms that laid ahead.
“I’m a boy, not a monster," the Commander coughed.
Saul let go of the Commanders legs and frantically inputted the code to the Decompression Room hatch:
ERROR. INCORRECT CODE.
He did not have the time to make the mistake again. Saul re-entered the code, slower this time, and the door successfully unlocked. He turned back to see the Commander sliding away from him.
“A boy. Not a beast. A boy," he moaned, crawling on all fours.
Saul leaped after him, grabbing at his ankles, and knocked him flat onto the floor with a hard yank.
“No!" cried the Commander. “You can’t make me go back!"
In a flash of adrenaline, Saul fought against the Commander, pulling him the rest of the way into the Decompression Room, and he threw him down hard in an attempt to have enough time to exit the room. Once safely out, Saul quickly locked the vault door behind him, effectively locking the Commander inside. It was at the end of this, in a long sigh of relief, that he could hear the groupings of footfalls echoing down the hall towards him.
“What’s happening here?!" hollered Hollis from down the hall. At his sides were Maven Atoll and engineer Colleen Ralph. Falling behind in a tired sprint was Franco.
“The Commander-" Saul started and took a breath. “He’s lost his mind."
The three gazed into the small window on the hatch door and witnessed the Commander as he leaped about the small chamber, crazed and incoherent.
“My God, you weren’t lying," whispered Hollis.
“I’m not a monster!" roared the Commander from behind the locked door.
“When did this start? What does he mean that he’s not a monster? Did you provoke him in any way?" Hollis asked.
Saul shook his head. “I did nothing. I was in the locker room changing and he just attacked me. That’s when Franco found me. The man has officially lost it."
Maven pushed against the door. “It looks like the hatch will hold until we figure out what's happening to him. Maybe Saul’s right and the stress of all this caught up to him. We really can’t say right now, we just need to wait for this fit to run its course."
Hollis was quick to interject. “But is the Decompression Room really the best place we can hold him? Sure, it’s got breathable air right now, but with just a press of a button we could vent him into Mars without as much as a helmet to protect him. This can’t be safe. It can’t be ethical to hold a human in here like this."
Saul began banging on the door like a child at the zoo, trying to provoke the creature within to do something unexpected and worth the overpriced admission ticket.
“But you’re not human, are you, Richard?!" Saul yelled through. “There’s nothing unethical when it comes to locking a beast in a cage."
Inside the chamber, the Commanders cries continued. “I’m not a beast! Not a beast! A boy!"
Hollis yanked Saul away from the door. “Stop it, your jokes aren’t helping the situation. The Commander is clearly in some delusional state right now, so let's not test his limits. Is there nowhere else we can contain him? What about getting Novak to sedate him and put him in a personal cabin under lock and key?"
Saul clenched his jaw at Hollis, clearly not liking the reaction to his joke.
“No, you’re right. You’re right. Our history aside, I should act professional-" Saul gave a look back to the Decompression Room. “The problem, right now, is that Novak’s location is currently unknown. We obviously can’t lead Richard to any other room without putting him under with Novak’s sedatives. I barely got him in here without getting myself killed, and I can’t risk the wellbeing of anyone else here by letting him out. So until we find Novak, we need to leave him right there."
Colleen jumped into the conversation. “What do you mean Novak’s location is
unknown
? The Hub is only so big, where could he go?"
“It seems that way," Saul agreed. "But nobody’s seen Novak for a day now. So that leaves one of two options: he’s either outside the Hub or he’s somewhere really well hidden inside it.”
"What the hell is going on?" Hollis mumbled, feeling the colony crumble around him.
The discussion was interrupted by a loud scraping sound coming from the Decompression Room. The five quickly rushed back to the window on the hatch and peeked in with urgent curiosity. Together they witnessed a gruesome scene.
“What’s he doing?" shuddered Franco. "Clawing at himself? Jesus, he’s tearing through his suit! He’s digging into his skin!”
Maven turned from the window in horror. “We need to find Novak, as soon as possible. He’s the only person who knows the whereabouts of the tranquilizers."
Saul nodded, entranced by the running red beyond the window.
“I’ll wait here," Saul muttered. "I’ll make sure Richard doesn’t do any irreparable harm to himself. As much as I may disagree with this man he’s still my colleague and my friend. Colleen and Franco, go check the infirmary to see if any sedatives are lying around. Hollis and Maven, I need you two to cover as much area of the Hub as possible until you find Novak. Hurry, all of you."
Hollis, Maven, Colleen, and Franco did not second-guess the logic. Logic took time, and time they did not have. As more and more blood was drawn from the Commanders self-laceration, Hollis and the others sprinted in opposite directions to find sedatives or the doctor- whichever came first. Hollis had an idea of where to find the drunk better than anyone else did. It was Novak’s character flaw that held the clue to where he could find the man. Hollis broke away from Maven and ran through an off-shoot corridor, sharply rounding corners and dodging aside doors too slow to open. He darted into the Mess Hall, sending its few lethargic inhabitants in different directions to aid in the hunt, and then he continued on. He had a hunch: no animal strays too far from the watering hole.
Hollis trampled through the main kitchen, passing many aisles of discarded dried nutrient-bricks and water canteens, and entered into the Ration Room. The Ration Room was the main hold for the colony’s food supply, and it was intended to be restocked every year by airdrops from funding corporations. The supply appeared to be bountiful and endless, a tactic to provide the illusion that the colonist would never be threatened by starvation and are being cared for by their benefactors on Earth. It was because of this that the Ration Room was never intended to be rationed and instead serve as a decoration to sedate fears. However, without the hope of a future refill, the colonists were now urged to consider the Ration Room as their food source. Hollis had already calculated that living off their current food supply they had over six years of full bellies if they were to carefully consume the food supply, beginning first with the dreaded nutrient-bricks. It would be after this time that his research would need to be completed so the lifeless atmosphere and soil of Mars would be altered in such a way that crop growing could be possible. In his garden, Hollis had his own oversupply of farmer seeds just waiting to be used on fertile ground. He could begin an agricultural revolution on the dead planet, and they would never need to fear starvation again.
Once inside the oversized refrigerator that was the Ration Room, being nearly the size of a small barn, Hollis searched across the high shelves for the last breadcrumb to find Novak. Up and down he looked, tensions rising, and he knew he was closing in on the prize with each shift of his sight. He found what he was searching for but was quite disappointed in what it showed. There were only a few bottles of liquor left on the shelving where there were once tens of dozens. It looked ransacked, bottles tossed throughout and scattered on the ground, completely emptied dry. The alcohol stash was gone as was Novak with it. Where had he taken it all? Surely it had been in the span of the last week that Novak moved the load, little by little, without the notice of anyone in the colony. Few rarely partook in the colony’s supply as it was usually saved for holidays, so it was not surprising that no one noticed it missing. But where could Novak be storing such a large supply of liquor now? Hollis did not have the time to play detective. He did not have the time for any of it. He should be at the garden, saving not the Commander, but the fragile remains of the human race.
In a sudden burst of anger, Hollis hollered at the top of his lungs. “Novak!" The empty bottles shook. “Dammit, Novak!"
Hollis shuddered at the end of the frustrated wail and shook his head in fury. He failed. He failed his Commander. Just when he found himself back on track, he was feeling himself lose it again. Still, he could not shake the feeling that there was still a way to save him. Something he knew, something that he had, could save the Commander and end this nightmare. But what was it?
His hand met his forehead in an instant epiphany. He had his own organic sedative. The herb he had used nearly every night to help him fall asleep. The yellow herb, in the wicker box in his bedside table, tucked away with all the other drugs he had taken from the garden. It might be possible to light the herb on fire and toss it into the locked room, smoking the Commander to a deep sleep. From there they could safely move and secure him. Hollis was the fool to forget. The garden was too far a journey to make, an hour at its quickest, but to the sleeping quarters, maybe there was still time. Maybe he could hold back the last grain of the hourglass for just a little while longer.