Tourism to Deimos (Halloween Special) - Alberto Jiménez

Translator: Luis Fernández.

—His fortune began with automobiles —explained the midday news anchorwoman with her usual forcefulness—, then he added telecommunications to his business conglomerate, and finally, what we are most passionate about, the space race. Korean tycoon and philanthropist Kim Sang-joon has finished the selection. The one we would all like to be in. Remember that two years ago he began the process of selecting the first space tourists for his company. Seven places, seven people were selected to accompany him on a journey available only to a privileged few. And, this time, it was not money that prevailed. In this case, the billionaire and his wife will be accompanied by some of the most privileged minds on our planet on the first trip into space of his megalomaniac project: Hallasan Space.

As you know, once all the tests have been passed and after years of preparations, Hallasan Space will make its maiden flight in a few days in what could be the first step towards a colonization of Mars.

The image on the screen and the voice of the announcer are distant in his memory. As distant as the earth, which looks tiny through the small skylight. A small blur that adds color to the black background. An enormous vertigo for the seven people who share a small space for months in the spaceship that takes them to one of the satellites of Mars.

—Of all the people in the world, and I must share space with this jerk.

—You know I'm not comfortable breathing the same air as you either. Why don't you shut up and let us enjoy this moment?

—Hey! Hey, Joon! —said Martin, getting his host's attention—. You'd better watch your ship here, your architect, he'll take over your project.

—Structural engineer and doctor of physics, if you don't mind —said Kasper, ducking his head and looking down at the ground, having had enough of the situation.

—I have a double degree in physics and mathematics, a PhD in both subjects, and I've been running the International Masters in Modelling and Analysis for years.

—Which means you don't know how to do anything but write on a sheet.

Martín and Kasper had become, if not friends, collaborators on a joint ESA-NASA project to design habitats with pressure cabins and water purification plants for a hypothetical human colonization of the surface of Mars. The project had to be abandoned due to ongoing disputes and mutual accusations of plagiarism between the two main directors: the American Dennis L. Kasper and the Spaniard Fernando Martín.

Imágen: Freepik

—Children, don't bother —said Isabella Finocchiaro, the Italian microbiologist, trying to keep things on peace—. This is not a war of university degrees. I think we know each other well enough to know that we are some of the smartest people on the planet.

Crack!

A panel from inside the ship came loose, levitating in the weightless interior. A handful of tools floated out of its compartment. Nadine, the youngest of the crew, had broken the door with one foot as she tried to propel herself through the interior.

—What I can't figure out —Martin continued—, is what you're doing here — addressing Nadine, who was trying to pick up the tools floating around her while sucking food from a tube.

Younger than her fellow travelers, Nadine, with her perpetual hermeticism, was almost more unpopular than the cocky Martin. She answered no one, adjusted the straps that held her to the seat, and resorted to what seemed to be her only activity: eating.

—Leave her alone —asked Mirta Fajardo, the expedition doctor, who sat next to her—. She is obviously still in shock from the episode we had before we left. Try to forget it, Nadine —she said to the girl, placing a hand on her knee—. The important thing is that we are all going through the greatest experience of our lives, and she has been through the same trials as all of us.

Nadine, at the contact, slumped further back in her seat with a blank stare.

—Thank you for reminding us that we're not flying with the most qualified systems engineer —Martin snorted, looking up at the second-in-command.

Next to Sang-joon, who was acting as mission commander, was his wife Jung Yi-Seo. That Jung had taken the position at the last minute, inside the aircraft that was taking them through space, had done nothing to calm the spirits of the space tourists. Their systems engineer and second-in-command had been found dead by Nadine when she opened her locker. The corpse fell on her, causing her to panic, which was the reason for her silence.

Photo by NASA on Unsplash

—Hey, Sang-joon! What's the girl doing here? What's her specialty?

—She's important —replied Sang-joon—. As important as any of you can be. Everyone on this ship passed the selection tests.

—Can you confirm that your wife went through the same selection process as us? —Martin wanted to know.

—Everything is planned, my friends. I have invested too much time and money to have to abort this project at the last minute. You all have, had, an understudy waiting in case, at the last moment, you failed. As happened to the late Mr. Carter, our systems engineer.

A tense silence followed Sang-joon's statement. A pen floated past Isabella as an allegory for how expendable they really were. It was true that most of them had studies, successful careers in science, engineering... Subjects related to the purpose of the trip: to evaluate the facilities Sang-joon had built on Deimos, one of Mars' moons as a platform to make the leap to the red planet. Phobos and Deimos. Fear and terror, named by their discoverer in memory of the two sons of Mars.

Many years of preparation and a great deal of work behind them. Realistically, they were not involved in all that, they were just space tourists. The companies or universities they worked for had put up a lot of money to buy them a place on that flight. I'm sure someone had paid a good amount of money for the weird girl's place, so she had the same right as everyone else to be there.

In Mirta's mind was the change that had taken place in the personalities of Sang-joon and his wife. On Earth they were two charming people, the prototypical oriental humility had turned to the smugness and authority that, she wanted to think, were necessary to lead the mission. The affable and charismatic salesman had become a sullen bus driver who wants to get to the destination station as quickly as possible. His technological developments halved the journey time, yet it was already three months of hermeticism and coldness on the part of the ship's crew. They only got laconic answers to their curiosity. The most common answer was always "they will understand everything when they get there".

Until the day finally came when they sighted Deimos. There was the terror, ready for them to set foot in the Sang-joon facility. They crowded in to take turns to view from the skylight two small structures on its surface. Questions remained unanswered: “Who had prepared their arrival? Why did they know nothing of the previous teams that had been responsible for erecting the complex that was to house them? Was it people, autonomous machines, or remotely guided; did they build it all?”

—One last test —announced Sang-joon´s wife, Yi-seo—. We need a blood sample from each of you. 

—What for?

—It's necessary to see how healthy you are before we go down to the satellite. We need to know how the trip has affected each of you.

—Nadine, are you all right, girl? —Mirta asked—. You look a little pale.

—Yes, it's not important —she replied—. I just don't like needles.

—Why do we need one more blood draw —Mirta asked—. As far as I know, I'm the only doctor in the group, and I can't see the logic of the test now.

Yi-seo held the tray with the material for the extraction and looked at Sang-joon asking for help to solve this situation.

—Dr. Fajardo —said Sang-joon, taking the floor—, I do not doubt your expertise in neuroscience, and we are all grateful for your team's advances in curing Alzheimer's disease. Here on my ship, let me be the judge of the appropriateness of the necessary tests. Perhaps it is time, though, to start answering some questions.

That statement caused the entire crew of the Hallasan Space to gather around him for some more information regarding his mysterious journey.

Photo by Manuel Will on Unsplash

—As you may recall, you all underwent, yes, underwent an extensive package of medical tests. Apart from the physical tests, aimed at proving that you could make the journey, it was all about finding out something about your past. Something that made you eligible for this journey. I imagine that some of them have been able to deduce that it is not their academic qualities that have brought them here.

—My academic qualities are more than outstanding. I'm not just a tourist who's come to get a ride in his little rocket.

—Do you remember when you were twelve years old —Sang-joon cut Martin short—. On the beach, on holiday. Your parents were looking for you for four days. He turned up in the rice fields of the Maresme.

He ignored Martín's astonished face and continued asking the rest.

—Mirta. She was supposedly lost in the jungle of Tortuguero in Costa Rica, and they found her four days later. What can you tell me about those days?

Isabella —he continued asking without waiting for answers—. They say that one night she was with her maternal grandmother, in the house in Montepulciano, right? An empty bed, a whole village looking for her, and she turned up four days later.

Dennis. You were, what were you?, ten years old when you got lost at the Amarillo Fair? The fair closed and you were still missing. All the fairgoers were questioned, you were searched all over the county to no avail until you turned up lost in Palo Duro Canyon four days later.

As Sang-joon had expected none of his guests said a word. Immersed in a fruitless search for memories that could answer Sang-joon's questions, they were like four teenagers who had just been caught copying: head down and looking for a credible excuse without finding one.

—They were all missing for the same period and at roughly the same age —Sang-joon continued—. I ask you to be aware of one last fact: their disappearances, unbeknownst to you, occurred in five-year cycles. First Mirta, Martin, Dennis, Isabella and finally Nadine.

The rest of the passengers turned their eyes towards her. Changing her usual way of behaving during the trip, this time she looked them in their eyes defiantly.

—Yes, I remember —she confirmed—. I remember everything. And that's why I've always been treated like a madwoman. Is that why we're here?”

Nadine looked at the host couple, leaving the rest of them as mere spectators of a foreign play, trying to understand the plot from the context. Sang-joon and Yi-seo left a moment for everyone to assimilate the situation and draw their conclusions.

—At the risk of sounding naïve —Isabella began—, are they somehow implying that we were all abducted at some point in our lives?

—Is there life on Mars? —Dennis wanted to know.

—That there are Martians? Come on, give me a break! And they're green with little antennae, aren't they?

—Are they here?

—Are we going to be able to see them?

—This is crazy.

—I can't stand this man.

—Extraterrestrial life...

The previous silence gave way to an uproar in which everyone had a theory or something to say, stepping on each other's toes. The Korean couple continued to watch their crew and Nadine, who said no more.

—Mirta, please —asked Yiseo—. Can you take over the blood draws? When we get the results, we can go down to Deimos.

—Given the prospect of life different from our own, I ask you to cooperate and take the sample so that we can narrow down any changes that may have occurred due to the voyage. We don't want there to be any contamination of any findings we might make, do we? Right. Well, if there is, we must be clear about the traceability of any data obtained.

They meekly lined up for Mirta to take a small sample of their blood, which Isabella took the opportunity to grab Nadine by the arm and pull her towards her:

-What do you remember? —she wants to know.

—Let me go —Nadine tried to struggle—. I don't have to tell you anything. I just want to know what's down there.

—It's true —Isabella continued—, I don't remember anything from when I disappeared. They say it's a way for the brain to protect itself from a traumatic event. And that's what I've thought all my life. Something so terrible happened to me that my mind has erased it.

—And knowing that it's bad, you still want to know? Listen, —said Nadine, violently letting go of the hand that gripped her arm with more fear than strength—, You might as well stay ignorant and thank your memory for erasing it.

Then he lifted his sleeve to offer his arm to the needle. Bluish fingers were tracing the outline of her forearm. Mirta cast a deeply reproachful glance over her patient's shoulder in the direction of Isabella, who was sweating profusely.

Isabella stared at her own hands, the ones that had been gripping a fellow traveller. She knew she was lying when she said she didn't remember anything. Not infrequently she woke with a start, dreaming that she was being held by her arms and legs.

Dennis decided to use the bathroom one more time before starting his descent. He closed the door to the narrow compartment they used as a bathroom. He relaxed, trying not to think about anything, for nothing was what he remembered. In fact, he wanted to forget that moment in his life that only brought him a sense of anguish. Sitting on the toilet he saw an eye on the wall in front of him, in the doorway. A myopic and spiteful eye. Surely it was Martin peeping again. He wanted to shout at it, but his mouth made no sound. He wanted to move, but his limbs did not respond. The eye in the door extended like a snail's horn telescoping towards him. Dennis's eyes widened in panic and, in a grimace that was meant to be a scream, he opened his mouth. The eye was thrust into it.

He smacked his face repeatedly and gasped for air. There was nothing. No tentacle, no eye, and, of course, no hole in the bathroom wall to spy on him.

From the main spacecraft, Hallasan Space, the approach module to the Deimos satellite detached, beginning its entry into the weak gravity field. With a diameter of just over 12 km and its constant trajectory, it was relatively easy to reach its surface without any problems. The tourists watched expectantly as they approached a platform with no other nearby structures visible. They soon realized that they were not landing on a platform. They were not going for a walk on the surface of Deimos. The module docked at an airlock that led them into the interior of the large rock.

—One second, please —Sang-joon requested—. We are equalizing the pressure on both sides.

—Now everyone must put on the respirator —Yi-seo instructed them—. The suit will protect you from the cold temperatures and the cave interior from radiation, but the air is not breathable. Check that the pressure is correct. One atmosphere. We don't want anyone to pass out, do we?

—Have they dug inside and put air pressure in? —Martin asked Yi-seo, who was leading the line—. That could compromise safety on such a small satellite.

—We've only conditioned the entrance —she replied—. The rift has been here forever. Please don't overwhelm me with more technical questions. See for yourselves the grandeur of Deimos.

As she said this, they emerged from the short corridor into an inner cavern. Beams and metal plates dotted the interior to maintain the integrity of the space gained from the satellite's interior. The brutality of the living rock contrasted with the perfect symmetry of a central structure. Something akin to a mound that seemed to be carved out of the rock itself. Seamless, polished and yet it seemed to catch the light. Four tombs surrounded a central sarcophagus.

—What is this place? Is it his construction or...?

—Explore. Investigate. That's the purpose of your visit. What do you think?

—But... But this is impossible.

Each of the tourists turned to the sarcophagi with curiosity. Touching their edges, caressing the smooth surface. With their will lost, one after the other they went into those ancestral capsules. The desire for research, the craving for knowledge, substance inhaled into the respirators, their motivation blinded by those impossible niches; exerted the power of attraction enough to fill the four outer sarcophagi with four human bodies arrived from Earth.

Nadine removed her respirator from her face.

—This is no longer necessary  —she said—. Are they ready?

—We will check immediately, my Queen —replied Sang-joon, who went to supervise each of the bodies lying there.

Sang-joon and Yi-seo removed their respirators. While Yi-seo walked over to some consoles and typed rapidly on them, Sang-joon visually monitored the four space tourists lying inside each of the sarcophagi.

—The blood samples are confirmed compatible.

—They are already submitted to the system, my queen —Sang-joon confirmed in Nadine's direction, who activated a spring in each of the sarcophagi. At her touch, the emptying body was absorbed by the stone and disappeared inside.

Nadine occupied the central platform. A perfect cube carved from the same stone. She inserted the four vials of blood into each of its sides. She climbed onto the platform and squatted on it. A viscous liquid emerged from each of the niches that housed the bodies of the passengers. The organic magma projected upwards, completely covering Nadine's figure. She was enveloped in a sort of placenta that transformed her body and mind with the capacities of those involuntary donors.

—Your Majesty, it will all be over in a moment —said Sang-joon as he caressed the surface of the throbbing fluid sac.

He embraced the huge placenta lovingly. Wanting to melt into an embrace with it, with what it contained, with devotion.

The throbbing of the placenta became more and more intense. It convulsed; cracks appeared on its surface from which fluid gushed. Uncaring of the fluid running down her arms, Sang-joon tried to make a hole with her hands. From within, a human form was trying to emerge.

Nadine, the girl who came from Earth, emerged transformed into something else. A beast that seized the absorbed Sang-joon, grabbed his head and cracked open his skull with its own hands. It fed on his brain and gazed at Yi-seo, who showed no emotion at the spectacle.

—Your Majesty —said Yi-seo—, it is time to return to Earth.

—Yes, it is time to awaken my entire kingdom.

💀Remenber: next Friday, a new story💀 

 

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For a bunch of likes - Luis Fernández