Deeper Into the Void (5 page)

Chapter 4

H
eavy steel doors swing on their decrepit hinges, worn and rusted by the moist air. Cardiff searches each room in the dormitory, one at a time. All are furnished identically; a sink and a mirror sit on the wall adjacent to the door. The small bunk lay along the opposite wall with a footlocker underneath. A small hanging closet sits along the interior wall of each unit and a single window adorns the opposite wall. Plainly painted and decorated, each is white in color from ceiling to the masonry floor.

A light layer of dust coats each handle before she grasps them and presses the doors inward. Ten doors are all opened, the last of which reveals the items that she has been looking for. Starting at the back and working toward the unit closest to the door seems to have been the reverse order to the order in which she should have been searching.

Standing in the doorway for only a moment, Cardiff walks carefully toward the bunk and the opened footlocker underneath it. After sitting down on the bunk and reaching through the contents of the locker, she looks up and notices a small photograph in the low light. Taped up to the mirror, a worn photograph captivates her attention. After pulling it from its place upon the mirror she looks on in deep sentiment, the sight overwhelms her with a sense of nostalgia.

Disturbed from her moment of reflection, Cardiff leans forward off of the bunk, where she has been against the wall with the photo in hand. The outer door swings into the hallway, Long casually wanders into the dormitory building. Doctors Mendez and Ghent are talking down the hallway as he walks by her door. Mendez and Ghent look up at their bewildered team mate, both wonder what may have happened during the simple task given to him.

Long stares blankly at Doctor Mendez for a moment, and then proceeds to walk between her and Doctor Ghent as he makes his way to the seventh door in the hallway. A simple push on the door sees him disappear into the dark dorm room. After the door shuts behind him, Mendez and Ghent both look at each other in bewilderment.

Lawrence walks into the hallway, joined shortly by Cardiff as she walks out of the dark dorm. Cardiff stands just behind Lawrence as he looks on with a bewildered expression.

Lawrence grabs his large flashlight out of his canvas bag. With a single push on the handle, the outer dormitory door swings out into the night. He takes a brief moment to survey the surrounding alleys and shadows before he takes the first step down the stairs. The utility control building appears plainly two dozen meters away. His feet tread softly on the hard surface of the plaza. His hands and even his breath become shaky as he approaches the door to the utility room. His heart beats loudly in his ears, long deep breaths do not seem enough to stay his nerves.

With an iron resolve, he grasps the handle firmly and opens the door quickly. He steps across the threshold of the doorway just as rapidly, and his flashlight rushes around the large single-room interior of the building. Dozens of machines and large pieces of hardware are arranged, single-file, in rows in the darkness. Shadows move along the back wall to match the movement of his lamp. A silent absence fills the musty air inside the small building. He draws in another quick breath and turns his flashlight, as well as his attention, down the walkway to his right. The gentle humming sound of the power storage gyros spinning behind him masks the sound of his heavy breathing as he walks down the walkway, one step at a time.

His feet stop as he nears the large water filtration machine. Light dust covers the pipes leading in and out of the machine. The pipes leading into the machine are plainly painted white. The pipes leading from one part of the machine to another are all painted blue, and the pipes leading from the machine back into the floor below are painted red and blue, designating hot and cold. A worn piece of paper, taped on the side of the machine, provides a list of detailed instructions on the startup of the machine.

His bare left hand rests just below the instructions, his right hand holding the light to focus upon it. A simple wire tool hangs from a thin chain from the side of the instruction. He follows the chain with the light down the side of the machine until his view comes to rest on the small wrench. His left hand braces him in the same place it was moments earlier as he leans over to grab the tool. His right hand grasps at the cool metal tool. His flashlight canvases the machine, until he notices a large arrow sticker pointing to a small set screw. He inserts the tool into the screw and rotates it according to the instruction posted above. His left hand, still resting by the paper, can feel the machine come to life within. The rushing of water can be felt through the metal casing.

A cool, wet object slaps down gently on the back of his left hand. Sheer reflex causes him to jump away from the machine. His hands are shaking wildly as his right hand feverishly directs the light around in the pitch black room, searching for the object that had brushed him so deliberately. Lawrence backs up quickly toward the door, the light never resting in a single spot, not even for a split-second. Nothing out of the ordinary comes into view as the light tours the entire building.

He finds his back pressed up against the door; he moves his assaulted hand to find the handle. A second later, he finds himself freed by the opening door. Only seconds after being touched, he stands outside the doorway, with both hands pulling the door shut. The door slams shut, and he turns the lamp to his left hand; the cool sensation on the back of his hand indicates to him that it is wet. The bold crimson color, familiar yet foreign, makes him feel unnerved and his knees begin to tremble beneath him. The mark upon the back of his hand is easily recognizable; a single bloody hand-print.

A single light in the mess hall casts its welcoming light down its hallway into the plaza. Instinctively, Lawrence bolts across the darkened plaza and finds himself ascending the steps into the mess hall in a single bound. A couple of steps later, he finds himself with his hands in the sink under the running water. His right hand scrubs feverishly to remove the malicious stain from his left hand.

Lawrence interrupts his frantic cleaning to look over his right shoulder; Mendez, Cardiff and Ghent are all seated at the long table just watching him with great interest. Cardiff springs from her seat and joins him by the sink.

He looks back at the back of his hand, his facial expression changes from horror to that of confusion in the blink of an eye. He slowly removes his right hand from its place on the left hand.

Chapter 5

Year 15, Day 37

T
he fog of night creeps underneath the closed dormitory building door from the plaza, covering the floor of the dormitory hallway in a heavy mist. Faint traces of starlight shining into the dome, and through the hallway arcade of windows cast the shallow fog into consternation and guise as it moves along the painted floor.

The mist-laden air pours through the small space beneath Long’s dormitory door. Long sits silently on his bed, cross-legged. Apprehensive fingers curl in loosely-formed fists as he watches the fog; it seems to be reaching up for him from the floor. Heavy fists slam against the outer door, loudly enough to awaken the others from their light slumber.

The banging in the hallway is followed, quite shortly, by the outer door opening and slamming. Long remains still and silent on his bunk. His attention is fixated upon the fog that has inundated the floor of his room. The fog rushes toward the opening under his door rapidly; twice as quickly as it had come; the fog leaves his room in a coordinated flight out into the hallway. The dry floor is cold, yet it hastens to Long as he cautiously places his bare feet on it. A single wooden car is left alone on the bunk.

Long reaches for the handle on his door; he is greeted by icy metal as he places his hand upon the handle. With a twist of the handle, the door is freed from its captivity within the door frame. Once again, the thick fog rolls past Long. The fog sits waist-high as he walks into the hallway. The numb sensation in his feet and legs causes Long to look down into the corralled sea of mist. He can see no further than his own waist as he peers down.

A door opens down the hallway, the sound of the latch releasing draws Long’s attention up from the fog below. Cardiff stands in her own doorway, rubbing her eyes.

Cardiff stands in her doorway, fixated on Long’s apathetic expression. The rising sun looks as if it were rising for the first time. Rays of light begin to pour into the dome from behind the dorm building. The fog begins to evaporate into thin air outside. The thick fog inside the hallway begins to wane in the morning light. Long stands still in his doorway, just watching the fog disappearing before his eyes.

The hallway fills again, this time with footsteps as the others have finished readying themselves for the day. The early hour precludes the customary morning greetings as they stumble around in the hallway. The hallway empties again as they all leave Doctor Long alone in his doorway.

Several minutes later, Long walks into the mess hall and sits down next to Ghent. From the look in his eyes, Long hasn’t slept all that much the night before. Mendez is quietly eating her own eggs, carefully watching Long.

Ghent looks up at Long, a subtle shake of the head back and forth warns Long to avoid the eggs. Long continues to serve up his breakfast, avoiding the reconstituted eggs. Mendez sits across the long table from Lawrence; her eyes are casually placed on him as he quietly eats.

Cardiff looks on at Lawrence and Mendez; back and forth she watches them. A small devious smile crosses her face; a simple idea begins to work within her mind.

Metal forks come to rest on the accompanying white composite plates one at a time as the crew finish breakfast. Silent conversation, carried on only in body language, pervades the meal. When the last fork is set at the side of Long’s plate, Cardiff stands with her empty plate in hand and nods to the rest of the crew. Each team member leaves the mess hall to begin the day’s assigned tasks given them; all except for Doctor Long, who continues to sit quietly on the bench looking out the window in silence. Cardiff is standing in the doorway, just watching him, she is clearly becoming annoyed with him, yet she remains relatively calm enough to hide this from him.

Long’s gaze slowly moves from the window to meet Cardiff’s fixated gaze. His facial expression is plain and fixed. No emotion can be seen on his complexion. He begins to rub his palms together, and then he begins to fidget with his fingers.

She turns and leaves him sitting on the bench in a contemplative manner. The sound of her footsteps as they fade into silence lulls Long into a daydream-like state. His eyelids grow heavy and he leans forward on the table for support.

Sand scatters underfoot as Ghent’s heavy boots arrive at the shore of the large pond. He stands, with both hands on his hips, and surveys the still water. The surface of the water is completely undisturbed, appearing like a perfect mirror. Ghent stoops down and grabs a small black rock from its resting place on the shore. The coarse surface of the light rock feels abrasive as he grasps it tightly in his fist. Ghent holds the rock for several moments before he looks again to the glass-like surface of the pond.

A faint whistle sounds as he flings the rock out toward the center of the pond. Ghent flinches as he watches the rock sail out over the surface of the pond; he failed to account for the reduced gravity. The rock finally meets the surface well past the center of the pond. A large ripple erupts from the pond as the rock continues to skip along the surface. The large mirror seems to flex and then shatter under the impact of the rock. Droplets of water, flung high into the air by the spinning rock, begin to descend back to the distressed body of water from whence they had come.

Crimson blood runs down Ghent’s flaccid hand, dripping from his finger as drops of morning dew fall from a heavy-laden leaf. These droplets of blood rush to the ground and splash on the border of the water. The cool sensation of the blood as it flees from the scrape on his palm draws Ghent to look down at his palm. He lifts his hand to look upon it. Without any measure of distress or alarm he presses the small wound to his lips to slow the dripping blood. He pulls the palm away from his face and waves it through the air, back and forth, as if to nurse the cut by shaking it about.

A mouthful of blood sours his expression, and he leans over the surface of the water and spits the foul taste from his mouth. The splash of water rushes outward from the point of gathering, the pond seems to press back against the intruding blood and saliva, and then draws back to its resting place.

A change of color erupts from the surface of the water at the point of impact. A bright orange color seems to boil up from just under the surface of the water. The greenish color of the rest of the pond seems as a drab background in stark contrast with the water at his feet. A surge of brown rushes out into the reaches of the pond in front of him, the immense change draws Ghent’s attention from his bloody palm.

Lawrence and Mendez turn back up the pathway, leaving Ghent in his contemplative stupor. Ghent looks out over the pond again; the color appears to have returned to the pond-scum color that was prevalent before. Ghent reaches into his pocket to retrieve a tubular glass vial. He gingerly removes the cap with his afflicted hand, and dips the vial into the cool water at his feet.

Satisfied with his sample, Ghent retrieves a large plastic glow stick from his belt, breaks it to mix it and throws it out a few of meters. The glow stick floats for a moment and then begins to slip away under the surface of the water. For a moment or two the stick can be seen readily from the surface as it sinks slowly, then it fades into the absolute darkness below. “Looks like I’m going to have to do this the hard way.”

Mendez finishes putting her pressure suit on, just in time to catch up to Lawrence as he enters the airlock. As they are waiting in the airlock, Mendez notices that Lawrence has now folded his arms and anxiously stands, awaiting the completion of the airlock procedures.

The outer airlock door releases with a faint yet distinct banging noise. As they walk out of the airlock, they both pause and look skyward. The golden sky above lends the rust-colored landscape an air of brilliance and wonder.