Leaving Mars

A Short Story.
By Adeena Mignogna (aka A. Francis Raymond)

My Dad’s a hugger. I’m not. That’s what I tell people when I explain our estranged relationship. I’ll deal with a handshake but would be fine with a simple nod or wave.

On the road the last two days, I’ve had a lot of time to think about our relationship over the last twenty years. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs, like the terrain we’ve been traveling over. Two days crossing the Martian countryside, watching its infinite hillsides, craters, and sand dunes pass by. One more day to go.

I finished typing up a message to Jenny, my sister back on Earth, and checked the time.  

“Hey, Ed,” I spoke into my helmet’s built in communicator.

“Yeah, boss,” he responded. Ed’s my companion on this journey. No, I’m not his boss. It was what he called everybody.

“Twelve minutes until Relay Three is in range. I have some messages to send out, and I’d like to get them transmitted before we hit the road again.”

“Sure thing, Rob. We have a fault light on the forward suspension. I need to get out and take a look at it, anyway. We’re at full power, and the batteries are in trickle charge. So I’m ready whenever you are.”

I closed the comm channel and stared at my computer. We already had laid out our navigation arrangements. It was a tricky thing. The planned satellite positioning system never got funded, so unlike those lucky bastards back on Earth, we had to do some real navigating, which included using the stars just before dawn and accurately tracking the Sun throughout the day.

Fun way to mark my tenth anniversary on the red planet. I was sure I’d also mark my 40th birthday here, but I’d have to settle for 37th.

I never had any particular interest in getting off of Earth, but it was also not easy to be a computer systems engineer these days. Our cold war with the Brazilian-Chino Empire put a heavy security burden on all computer systems, and it made any job a lot less fun. When a position became available for a computer and electrical systems engineer up here, I realized I liked the idea of living far away from everyone I knew. So I came and never looked back. Impulsive, yes, but it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone who knew me.

The real shocker was when my Dad decided to come up, too. It wasn’t such a shock from a career standpoint. He was a geologist, after all. But the position he’d signed up for two years ago put him in as a solitary occupant three days out from the base.

Dad’s a hugger, like I said, and he likes people. My sister messaged me from Earth to tell me the news. She asked if I could talk him out of it. I didn’t bother. It’s his business.

Jenny wanted to be up here herself. She’d wanted to come to Mars ever since we were little kids. But the company didn’t take anyone with dependents. Why include an added complication? She’d just have to wait until her kids were grown.

The base was folding up and headed back to Earth. Not our fault. The company simply wasn’t making enough money to sustain us, and we needed too many supplies from Earth. Sure, we were able to extract oxygen and water… but there was no salt, for one. Many of the other items we needed to make our equipment function also had to be brought here from Earth at significant expense. We’re decades away from having that kind of mining and manufacturing infrastructure here.

Which brings me to why Ed and I are in the middle of the Martian desert.

A couple of weeks ago, the news disseminated to everyone on Mars. There are about a dozen solitary outposts that needed to pack up and head back to base. All of them started once they got the message. All except for my Dad. He sent one simple message back to base:

“I’m staying put.”

So Ed and I are here to bring him back.

The company convinced me that I was the best person to convince my Dad, John, to come back. The company wouldn’t be able to leave a man up here, even if it was totally voluntary. Too many liability issues and no one back on Earth would understand that.

He’s been without human interaction for too long, the company told me. Human contact is necessary, they told me. You’re his son; they didn’t need to remind me, but did. He’ll listen to you. I tried to tell them that that man never listened to anything I’d said my entire life, but they thought I was being overly dramatic about my childhood.

But then Jenny sent a message.

“Please, Rob, please,” she had said to me. It wasn’t the kind of kid-speak we did when we were kids. Back then, there was always a whiny “puh-lease!” often with a shove. This one was different. This was all adult, all sincere.

“Please, Rob,” she pleaded. “The kids want to see their Grandpa. I want to see him again. I need to see him again.”

Fortunately or not, I have a soft spot for my baby sister. I just want to get this over with and get back to Earth.

~~

The drive into the Albor Tholus region was uneventful.

Periodically, we received status updates regarding the colony’s exodus. By the time we returned to the colony, everyone else would be off the planet. There would be one last liftoff vehicle that would take me, Ed, and my Dad to the orbiting Earth Return Vehicle.

The rover’s computer chimed when we crossed into the edge of Aldor Tholus.

I used my handheld computer to perform additional calculations based on the features in front of us and the Sun’s location in the sky.

“Turn 15 degrees south. We should pick up his site beacon shortly.”

We used site beacons as local navigation points along the way to the outposts. I hoped he didn’t turn it off. He probably thought that no one would come out looking for him and didn’t bother. Any attempt to disable the power supply would be reported back to the monitors.

After another hour, we picked up the beacon. We followed the signal to our final destination.

The landscape looked just like every other place I’d ever been on Mars: wind-swept and barren. I’d heard about some of the more interesting craters and canyons, but I didn’t come here to sight-see.

Another twenty minutes and the beacon tower came into view in the distance.

“Want to try calling him?” Ed asked.

I shook my head before I remembered that Ed couldn’t see that movement in my suit.

“No,” I responded over our comm link. “I’d rather surprise him. No sense in arguing over the link. I could have done that back at base.”

Another thirty minutes in silence until we saw the top of my father’s habitat. As we approached, details appeared. We saw his personal rover parked outside.

As we made our way even closer, something stood behind the edge of my father’s rover.

“You see that?” I asked Ed.

“Yes. There’s a second rover there.”

“Know any reason why he’d have two?”

Ed replied, “Nope. He’s only got one ass. No idea why he’d be issued a second rover. I checked over his property records before we left base . . . so I knew what we’d be bringing back. Only one vehicle was on the record.”

“It’s not like Property ever screwed up records before,” I sneered.

“Yeah,” Ed agreed, and I think I heard him chuckle. Making fun of property was all well and good when they couldn’t keep track of a bunch of towels, but a rover?

We parked in front of the two rovers. Ed confirmed with the computer link back to base that there were no unaccounted rovers. Odd.

“Well, time to call him up,” said Ed. “Or do we just walk in?”

I thought about it briefly.

“Let’s go in.”

We made sure our pressurization suits were functioning before leaving our rover. We’d stopped the day before to stretch out our legs, but every time you left the rover, a full systems check was in order. Mars was just as unforgiving as the days when humans first got here, and the slightest problem with the suit meant you weren’t leaving the rover.

As we walked past the rovers, I noticed something. To the average person who never lived on Mars, they looked identical. But to the people who just spent the last couple of days living and traveling in one … well, I saw that the solar cells weren’t right and the material was off color—not the kind of off color from taking a beating by sandstorms. The material truly wasn’t the same color.

These outposts, while typically manned by single individuals, were built to sustain several people for a long duration—there were all sorts of Martian emergencies that could pop up. That said, there were multiple airlocks around the habitat, but there was one that was considered the primary entrance. It was larger than the others, typically designed to accommodate multiple people at once, or, what was more typical of these solo outposts, one person and equipment.

Ed and I opened the hatch to the front door and stepped in. While we waited for the airlock to pressurize, I expected to see my Dad’s face through the window. I tried looking in, but all I saw was an empty habitat. I couldn’t get too good a look with my helmet on. It restricted my head’s range of motion and my vision.

A few minutes later there we were. Standing inside the first dome of Habitat S-17 with no sign of my father.

This dome of the habitat was the “work” dome. There were several benchtops set up as makeshift lab tables. There was some equipment. I recognized some of it as stuff a planetary geologist would use, but that’s about it. I’d calibrated some of it for my Dad before he came out here, but I was strictly following a known procedure. Anyone could have done it.

There were Martian rocks in what looked like an incubator. There was another incubator with more Martian dirt, dust, or whatever had something growing in it.

It looked as though my Dad really had no intention of leaving. This place was set up as if he was actively working.

On the opposite side of the dome from the front door was a curtain that led to the second dome—the inhabitant’s personal space. Nice of the company to separate work from personal life.

“Come on, let’s check back there,” said Ed.

I followed him into the second dome.

It only took me a millisecond to see him. My Dad, lying on the floor. His glassy eyes were open, looking at nothing.

But he wasn’t alone. There was a woman there too, and boy did she contrast with the surroundings with her dark hair and tanned skin. Even though I’d never met one of our enemies, I instantly suspected that she was a Brazilian.

She wasn’t shocked to see us. She had to have heard us come through the main airlock. Why didn’t she try to leave?

She stood up and put her hands in the air.

“I didn’t kill him,” she said.

Ed and I didn’t move. If this were a scene in a movie, we’d be drawing our guns, pointing them at her, yelling at her to get down, to freeze, or maybe even to shoot first and ask questions later.

But here in real life, guns weren’t standard issue. The thought passed, and I looked at my father. I wanted to hurl seeing him sprawled out in such an unbecoming way.

I was certain that Ed wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to do. I knew I absolutely did not have even a sliver of a clue.

“My name is Noma,” the woman said in an accent that I’d never heard before. Relations between the Brazilian-Chino Empire and the rest of the world deteriorated before I was born. I’d never met anyone from the Empire, and had no clue what they sounded like. Up until the moment she spoke, I never would have thought that they knew English.

“I can explain,” she continued.

Ed looked back at me with a “if-you’re-not-going-to-say-something-I-will” look, and I mentally gave him the go ahead.

He took a more aggressive stance, planted on both legs with arms crossed in front of his chest. “Look, we know exactly who you are, and we are going to take you back and turn you in to the authorities.”

She laughed.

I burst out, “What the fuck is so funny? You murdered my father!” I lunged, but Ed caught me. I’m glad he did because I had no idea what I was doing. Aside from knocking her down, I knew nothing about fighting anyone.

“What authorities?” she said. “I know you’re alone here. I know you’re the last two people on this planet from that doomed colony. I know you came here for John. And I know you’re heading back to Earth.”

It was obvious that yeah, we didn’t have a clue. She had the upper hand, at least when it came to information.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them, I said, “Fine. Why are you here? What did you do to my father?”

She looked down at him. “He was such a kind man,” she said. I believe I saw her eyes start to water. She quickly sucked back any dampness and continued: “I met John back on Earth. I am, I mean, I was, his handler.”

“His what?” I said.

“His handler,” Noma responded. “I was the one who received information…”

I cut her off. “I know what a handler is!” I shouted. “But what the hell do you mean you were his handler? Why would my Dad need a handler?”

I was starting to piece together some answers on my own. I paced back and forth around the small room.

“Hey Rob, calm down, OK?” said Ed. “Let her finish.”

“I work for BCI, Brazilian-Chino Intelligence. If you know what a handler is, I shouldn’t need to explain the rest of my job.”

“This?” I shot back, pointing at my father’s body.

“No,” she shook her head. “This was the work of one of my colleagues. I was hoping to get here before…”

She knelt down by my Dad and took his lifeless hand in hers. She performed all the actions of someone who cared for another, but yet… she was from the BCI.

“When we found out you were leaving the planet, well, my supervisors decided it would be too much of a risk to let John return to Earth. The chance that he would talk was too great. My organization, they, uh, well, the handler isn’t the cleaner, if you understand me.”

“So why are you here?” I asked.

“As I said, I wanted to warn John,” she continued. “And…”

She looked up at us with large, dark brown eyes. “And I want to go with you. Please understand me.”

I took Ed by the arm and pulled him to the furthest edge of the room and spoke in a whisper.

“What the…?” I started. “What do we do? Do we believe this? Do we call home now? What?”

“Look,” she called after us. “I can prove it.”

“How?”

“Your father,” she began. We turned our attention back to her and closed the distance. She looked as though she was struggling for words. She started making a sound, then stopped. Then started again and stopped. Finally, she blurted out, “Rob runs and Jenny jumps both juggling jiggly raspberry jelly ‘round the racetrack!”

My spine shuddered as my brain dug up old memories. When we were kids, Dad was usually overly playful. So the day he took a serious tone with us, I never forgot.

“Rob, Jenny – this is important. There might be a time in life where you’re going to have to trust someone and I won’t be around.”

“Like when Mrs. Kelly picks us up from school?” Jenny bounced.

“Exactly. But if she can’t pick you up either and I have to send someone else that you don’t know. They’ll know the key phrase.”

We looked at him with blank stares. We were very young.

“I’m going to give them a key, a password. I would only give this key to someone who was the most trustworthy person. And I’m going to tell it to you now, too. Always remember this, OK? You’ll be able to trust anyone who knows the key.”

I always remembered. I assumed Jenny did, too, although it’s never come up till now. This was the first time in more than thirty years it was used. The fact that this woman even knew we had a key was surprising. My Dad mentioned it a couple of times when we were young, but that was it. He told us how important it was never to tell it to anyone. And equally important, it was never to write it down.

“It proves that you knew my Dad,” I said, still remaining skeptical.

My brain was racing. I wished I had access to my comm archive. Did Dad ever hint about any of this? That he knew someone up here? That he was giving away information to our enemies? No. I shook my head. My Dad’s monthly messages, some of which I responded to, were the usual stuff asking me how I was doing, what I was working on, and something or other about Jenny.

Ed grabbed my arm and said softly, “This outpost is equipped with a med scanner that has an autopsy program. I could run it?”

I considered Ed’s offer. Did I need to know how my Dad died? I didn’t know if I was supposed to know the answer to that or not.

I nodded my head. “Yeah, go ahead,” I decided. “I’m going to access the computer. See what my Dad had in the computer. My Dad was many things, but traitor wasn’t one of them.”

Noma stayed next to my father’s body while Ed performed his scan, so I was free to turn my back and focus on the computers.

It proved to be quick work looking through my Dad’s computer system. It was structurally the same system as the home base system, simply scaled down since it had less data, less humans, less of everything to deal with. Finding my Dad’s logs, which was what I was looking for, took no time at all.

There was one labeled “README.” Good a place to start as any.

I opened the file. A video of my Dad came to life on the screen.

“If you’re seeing this,” his voice boomed from the speakers. I paused it and lowered the volume to a level where I had to strain to hear it, but the chance that Ed or that woman could overhear was minimized.

I resumed play. “… I’m dead.”

No shit.

“I don’t know who will find this, but whoever you are, you will no doubt find the circumstances of my death suspicious and no doubt figure out what I was up to.”

Duh.

“I’m sorry for that. A woman might come looking for me. Her name is Noma Moreno-Ling. Despite her unfortunate fact of citizenship and nationality, she should be trusted. By that, I mean, I’ve been trying to figure out how to assist her defection. If you’re seeing this, I didn’t get to complete that plan. She’s one of the good guys, if you’ll pardon the language, and desperately wants to get back to Earth. On our side. Help her.”

The video ended. I was left with more questions than my brain could process. I sat down on the sterile metal work chair and put my head in my hands.

There was a soft touch on my shoulder. Noma was there. Ed was still scanning my father.

“He told me about you, you know,” she offered.

“Well, he mentioned absolutely zippo about you,” I snorted.

“Of course. He wouldn’t reveal his work.”

“Which was what, exactly?”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

I stood up, unintentionally knocking down the chair I’d been sitting on. Noma jumped back, startled.

“Of course it fucking matters! My Dad is dead, he was selling secrets to our enemies, and now YOU, the one person who has any idea about this mess, wants to come back to Earth with us.”

I was inches from Noma. Ed stepped in between us and gently pushed me back a few feet.

“I need some alone time with my colleague,” he said to Noma.

Ed and I went to the far corner of the outpost. There was enough white noise generated by the equipment. She shouldn’t have been able to hear us, and we asked her to at least look away — asking her to completely turn around wouldn’t work. Why would she consent to turning her back to a couple of strangers? She wouldn’t.

Ed had his back to her. I could see her over his shoulder. He took out something from inside his glove and fidgeted a bit.

“It’s worse than we thought,” he said.

“What…?” I was slow to catch on. “You knew she would be here? What about my Dad?”

“Yes. We know about their base on Mars. Of course, the public doesn’t. I’m afraid I can’t get a definitive answer on your Dad. The scanner is telling me he had an aneurysm. I can’t tell if it was natural or caused by an external source.”

I wasn’t processing what he said about my Dad. Instead, I was focused on what Ed had in his hand. “What’s that?”

“Heavy sedative. I’m sorry about this, but we need to take her back.”

“Why are you sorry?” I asked. “Oh…” I looked down. There was only enough lift capability back on the craft for three people. My Dad would be remaining here.

“But you heard her; she wants to come with us willingly.”

“Yeah, we can’t take the chance that she’s lying. If she’s unconscious, she can’t harm us.”

When he was done fidgeting, he said: “Go to your Dad’s body. Talk to her. Say anything. Lie to her. Tell her we’ll take her back. I don’t care what you say, really. By the time she wakes up, she’ll be in custody. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I stared at Ed. Three days’ journey out here, and I had no idea he had his own agenda.

“Besides,” he added. “Can’t interrogate a dead guy, you know?”

No, I didn’t. Well, yes, I did, but interrogate my Dad? My Dad! I started to get a little light-headed—the feeling as if the oxygen had been turned up a little too high.

I walked over to my Dad’s body. I placed his hands on his chest in a fairly respectful pose. “If we take you back, I can’t take him. We’ll be over the weight limit, you know?” I said.

Noma nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Everything about her seemed sincere. I almost waved off Ed as he walked up behind her.

She didn’t see it coming. He quickly wrapped his left arm around her neck into a chokehold and stuck the needle into what I hoped was an artery in the other side of her neck. She didn’t have time to react. She was an agent, but in intelligence only—not well-trained in combat. She struggled, but it was wasted effort. I met her desperate eyes briefly when she gave up.

I looked up at Ed.

“Who are you exactly?”

He winked. “You’ve never heard of us. But rest assured, we’re working as hard as we can to break up the BCE.”

After a quiet moment he added: “Say your goodbyes and see if there are any personal items you might want to take. We have a ride to catch.”

I nodded and looked back at my Dad’s body. We had no choice but to leave it behind. I got down on my knees next to him and put my arms around his cold torso. I never thought I’d miss my Dad’s big bear hugs.

“Ready,” I said to Ed, this colleague who I really didn’t know at all. I’d have three days alone with him and an unconscious woman. Maybe he’d tell me who he really was. Maybe he’d help me figure out how to explain this all to my sister. Maybe we didn’t have to tell her the truth. It seemed like this was the new normal. Who ever said Mars had no more surprises in store for us was dead wrong.

~~~~~~

Adeena’s Author Notes:

This was a short story originally published in Unlocked: Short Stories from the Frederick Writers’ Salon under my former (and since abandoned) pen name, A. Francis Raymond. The Frederick Writers’ Salon has since produced two more anthologies of mixed genre short stories. Intersections: A short story anthology from the Frederick Writers’ Salon came out in 2018 and In the Shadow of the Spires: A Collection of Noir Tales from the Frederick Writers Salon was released in 2020.