Note: This is a republication of a short story of mine that was originally published on Medium. Though more horror-inspired, I’m particularly fond of this piece, as I think it deals with some themes and ideas that have always and will continue to haunt us unless we learn to change our collective mindset and approach to the world around us.
“We’ve come a long way,” Dr. Vannevar said, his beady, sunken eyes fixated on the untamed bringer of war just beyond the viewport.
Iris didn’t turn her head to look at him, but she could picture Vannevar stroking his little gray beard as he spoke. It was his way of breaking the silence between them, disrupting the descent as their five-person crew approached Mars. Vannevar liked to hear himself talk, so he often made broad observations with an air of scientific inquiry and pretentiousness. Iris wondered if this was how Vannevar talked his way onto this mission, if his sweeping generalizations impressed the executives back home. He certainly hadn’t added anything to the crew since he had come aboard, and Iris wasn’t even sure of what he held a doctorate in.
As the finer details of Mars grew more pronounced, Iris searched its charmless surface. She wanted to size up the red menace, stare it down as fear settled into her stomach over what, if anything, they would find on the planet. Much like Vannevar’s pedigree, Mars was one giant question mark.
Members of the Demeter-6 mission were only the second group of scientists (read: “pioneers”) to colonize the planet. The first crew, Demeter-5, had been on Mars for two years now. As of the moment, Demeter-5’s mission status was unknown. Contact had not been made, nor had a signal of any kind been picked up on Demeter-6’s long voyage. For all the crew of Demeter-6 knew, the original colony could have vanished in Mars’ tumultuous desert storms.
“We’ve come a long way,” Vannevar repeated, this time louder. “From tribal warfare, cannibalism, disease… to this.”
Iris felt Vannevar’s eyes on her. His hunter’s gaze unsettled her, as if behind the aloof, broadstroke of a personality lie something sinister and predatory. A snake in the grass. Something wriggled beneath her skin, and she hurried to come up with a response that would satisfy Vannevar’s hungry, attention-seeking stare.
“Yes,” Iris said, tugging at the sleeves of her lab coat and hiding beneath loose strands of her wavy, brown hair.
Satiated by her response, Vannevar swiveled his head back toward the viewport. His mouth opened to speak again when a voice erupted through the ship’s intercom.
“We’ve picked up a signal. All crew report to the central command.”
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