James Scotson - Planets Falling

When Adam was ten, she awoke to an anxious voice on a transmitter. A technician in the southern region reported a catastrophic failure of the regional power grid. An unanticipated meteor impact had incapacitated several colonies. They were evacuating. Unknown to the technician, the cavern of ghosts, of solace, of depths beyond understanding was in danger as well. Its energy source was linked to the grid and would have grown dark and cold. She quickly rushed to a shuttle, spending the tense minutes at the helm nursing the sinking feeling one must have when their child is drowning and help is too far away. When she arrived, light and heat were gone, except at the location of the pool in which the two springs fed. By headbeam, she stumbled to the site and tucked a little of the water into a stasis container. It glowed for a few hours but then dimmed and died out.

It took three months to restore power to the grid. When the plasma panels hummed and artificial sun rose again in her cavern, she was amazed at the grief she felt as she scanned the brown, shriveled world before her. In the years to come, she tried to restore life to that place. Vegetation returned. But the ghosts did not.

Adam and Maggie stood in the airlock where William Holst had taken his last breath of dry, artificial colony air. Adam fondled Heldren’s data puck in his hand. “Here we go,” he said as he placed his finger on the activation key. The puck became transparent. A small screen appeared on its surface indicating that the recording device was located and being accessed. Within a few moments, the accumulated images of thousands of lockages over decades were in his grasp. Somewhere within those digitized files were the final moments of Holst’s life.

They decompressed the files in Sarah’s lab. “I think I found it,” Sarah announced. “You all ready?”

Adam and Maggie nodded. And the imagery unfolded.

The camera faced the heavy airlock door. The panel that activated the lock was out of sight. Holst appeared in the video stepping backward — he was talking to someone, pleading. A small data pad sat loosely in his hand. He waved it, as if in offering to the unknown person.

“Maggie, was a data tablet found with Holst’s body or in the airlock?” Adam queried.

“No. But that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t overlooked out there. They were assuming a suicide, so no formal investigation occurred. They collected the stiff, dragged him inside, and that was the end of it. The death was caused by asphyxiation and decompression.”

In the shimmering scene, Holst’s shoulders slumped. He was resigned to his fate. He turned toward the airlock. Warning lights blinked, the doors opened, and the frail man walked into oblivion.

“Hm, wait a minute.” Sarah was pointing at a shadow on the wall to Holst’s left. “There’s a shadow when the light blinks. See?” She pointed at the screen’s grainy image.

The shadow was slim and unquestionably feminine in form.

“I think Holst had company,” Maggie muttered.

Adam knew the shadow belonged to his mother. “I need to go.”

Within moments, Adam powered up his shuttle and was en route to his mother’s most recent experiment — a patch of mosslands she was tending at the equator of the planet. His vessel settled near a tiny station, a shack really, where Pinchot and her staff were housed. Storage containers, all-terrain vehicles, canisters, and stray equipment littered the area. The air was balmy for mars, hovering just above freezing. Ferris and her crew would not be in the building. This time of day, high noon on mars, they were dispersed throughout the research zone collecting data, setting up experimental plots. Adam inspected his environmental suit. All colonists had a special relationship with their suits. The saying about babies on the planet was suit first, diaper second. The suit was the one assurance against a cold, unpleasant departure from life on the surface of mars.

Suit on, pressurized, and checked, Adam set out to find his mother. He followed a well-worn path between looming boulders and through deep crevasses until he came across a lean, lanky figure kneeling in the dust next to a path of emerald fuzz. The man stood. “Well, well, well. Adam Fuerst. What brings you here?” It was Henry Bodson, a close friend of his father and mother.

“Looking for mom. Is she near?”

“About a kilometer to the west.” He pointed down a rock shaded path.

“Thanks.” Adam began walking away.

“Congratulations on your promotion to Principal. You’ll be a great leader. I still can’t believe that little boy I used to swing around in the air is now the boss.”

“Thanks Henry.” Adam wondered whether Henry sensed the remorse and sadness in his voice over the communications line.

Adam marveled at the vast beauty of the terraformed mars landscape even as his life was spinning into confusion and disbelief. Life now adorned the rocks reflecting all colors of the rainbow. Signs of life on mars were far from a single shade of green. Rather, the lichens and algae were all colors — orange, purple, even maroon, accentuating the planet’s natural red dust. Given the time of day, there were few shadows and he was actually beginning to sweat. He adjusted the ventilation in his suit.

He shimmied around a boulder and there she was — Ferris Pinchot in her glory. Her hands rested on her hips as she stood surveying the landscape around her. Adam was dumbstruck. Before her stood a small plot of sturdy woody shrubs. “Vascular plants on mars?” The amazement was evident in his voice.

“Hello my boy.” She said without turning to him. “We may get these critters to stick. Did you know that the plants are starting to boost the local oxygen concentrations? We’re finally getting somewhere. Now if I can live another two centuries, I may get some satisfaction.” She laughed to herself. “I expect you’re not here to pay your old mother a social visit.”

Adam searched for the words. Was there a delicate way he could approach her? The little boy awed by his mother cowered in her shadow. Finally, the tension burst. The shadow fizzled.

“Were you with Holst the night he died?” Adam sat on a slab of basalt. There. It was done.

“Yes, Adam my dear, I was.” She walked toward him, brushed off dirt from the rock, and sat down next to her son. “You’re not the only one obsessed with those awful days before you were born. Strange how a horrible event could be filled with such opportunity. I guess that’s how it always goes.” She sighed. He did not look at her.

“Were you responsible?”

She seemed genuinely confused. “For the breach? Of course not. Your father and I could have easily died. And it interrupted our coffee break. We began to suspect Will early on though. He was very ambitious and a bit like me. Dreamed of turning this place into a garden. I think he was led astray by the company and was deluded into thinking the event would set us on a new, productive trajectory, which it did, even though there were unfortunate consequences.” She closed her eyes, chin lowered to her chest.

“So what happened the night he died?”

“It all started years ago. He confided in me. A deep, ugly secret. He had a weaponized version of the bacterial strain that caused the event. Something infinitely more dangerous to the colonies. In fact, he believed it could hobble entire civilizations. I spent years trying to guess where he kept it hidden. The solution was so obvious. But you know that already.” She touched his shoulder with her gloved hand.

Adam stiffened. “So you and Holst?”

“Years ago, Adam. Long ago, when I was young and lonely and so very sad and angry. Confused, really. I love your father, even if he was too willing to indulge me in my incessant tinkering. And in dragging you everywhere with me. I know that you feel so conflicted.” She paused, waiting for some response. Adam remained silent, hidden in his suit. “Well, back to your question about the night Will walked out onto the surface. He came to me with news that the vial was gone from his apartment and that we needed to get it back. I informed him that I had taken care of it.”