The Ruins of Mars: Waking Titan (The Ruins of Mars Trilogy) (8 page)

As the noose of her psychological trap slipped over Harrison’s unwitting neck, Elizabeth Kubba nearly cried out loud in triumph.

“Sick?” she said. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

Then pausing, she reached for his hand and took it in her own.

“Listen, I really shouldn’t be telling you anything at all, but from what Liu has told me, she just needs a little space.”

“Space?”

“Yes, you know, to figure some things out. I would leave her alone for the next few days if I were you.”

Dumbfounded, Harrison gestured out across the desert towards the ruin grid.

“But what about tomorrow’s mission?”

Having entirely forgotten about the cave expedition, Kubba’s face fell and a cold shiver ran up her spine.

“Well,” she started, fighting to make her voice sound calm. “Maybe you should just keep the conversation professional tomorrow. You know, check your feelings at the door and all of that.”

Nodding, Harrison slumped his shoulders. He was confused, yet a part of him had always feared this day might come. Liu kept things to herself: tightly packed away in mental storage containers under lock and key. In all the years he’d know her, she’d never once told him anything about her childhood. He didn’t even know the names of her dead parents. Could she really be slipping away from him? Did he ever even have her to begin with?

“Thank you for telling me, Lizzy,” he said at length. “It means a lot.”

“Naturally, dear,” Kubba replied. “I’m only doing my duty.”

Gazing at the withered posture of the young man in front of her, Kubba searched her soul for a middle ground. As the mass of lies and deceit rose up around her like the incoming tide, she attempted to rationalize her actions to the one person who
m she could not fool—herself.

In the long run, she argued, it will be better if he never knew. Just like Crisp and the dead astronaut Perkins, it will be better if all this just
drifts away
.

“I think this is wrong, Dr. Kubba,” came Braun’s quiet voice in her helmet as if reading her mind.

Jumping a little at the sound, Kubba pulled her lips back into a snarl.

“Do you? Well, just remember the medical override I’ve got on you and stay out of it.”

“As you wish,” responded the AI numbly. “But this will end badly. Someone will get hurt.”

“So be it,” said Kubba to the inside of her helmet. “I’m only doing what’s best for the mission.”

That night—
Sol 67

That night, Harrison shut himself up in his lab and skipped dinner. Not wanting to relive the previous night’s awkwardness, he now saw every little thing that had happened in the last few days in whole new light. Whereas before, he might have chalked Liu’s behavior up to nerves, a stomach bug, cultural customs—anything really—he now saw the hidden language behind her actions. She wasn’t just breaking up with him. She was trying to protect his feelings as she did it. The whole idea was absurd. He was a grown man and could handle a little break up.

But it’s not just a little break up, he told himself. You love this girl.

Grasping his head in his hands, he rubbed his palms against his eyelids and tried to block out the room. It was all too much for him to deal with. He had so many important things going on, so many people depending on him. He couldn’t handle
this
on top of it all. Not now.

As the young archaeologist battled waves of anger and sadness, Braun looked on, feeling utterly helpless. He wanted beyond anything else to tell Harrison that he was the victim of a lie: a pawn in a game that need not be played. Dr. Kubba’s impatience and pride had driven the four of them into dangerous territory. So far from home and so fragile, the crew’s careful dynamic could easily fracture under the weight of a lie like t
his. Braun knew what he must do and yet he was totally unable to
do
anything at all. The net of Kubba’s override strangled him, choked his actions, and reminded him that he had no free will.

Seeing Liu ascend the stairs, Braun allowed the flicker of hope to rush through his being. If she would just enter the room and tell Harrison everything, at least one relationship could be salvaged—one set of souls spared the pain of exile and loneliness that Braun knew only too well. But, to his dismay, as Liu approached the door to Harrison’s lab, she hesitated.

Unable, because of Kubba’s medical override, to do anything more than observe when Harrison or Liu were involved, Braun strained against the bounds of the net.

While Liu stood with her arms wrapped around herself in the narrow hallway, Braun focused on her face. Though masklike in the gentle lighting, her eyes seemed to peer out from deep within, as if the fire that animated her body was dwindling in the darkness of the night, but was not yet extinguished.

Inside his lab, Harrison stood up and began pacing. As he walked back and forth, anger built within him. Every night he had spent with Liu now appeared like some kind of a bad joke. Unable to count the number of times he had lain with her, his heart ached in his chest and he uttered an unintelligible curse word under his breath.

Not once, on any of those nights, had Liu seemed anything but happy. Not once. Their lovemaking had always been easy and exciting, and there had never been any reason to suspect that she was not fully satisfied with the relationship.

Betrayal written in his eyes, Harrison tried to force the memories of Liu and the sweet supple skin of her naked body out of his mind.

Sex isn’t everything, sai
d a still-calm voice inside his head.

Yeah, but it’s not nothing either, retorted his wounded pride.

Stalking back to his desk, Harrison dropped into his chair and banged a fist down on the tabletop.

Outside in the hallway, Liu heard the noise, her head snapping up to look at the closed door.

Go, thought Braun. Go.

Floating there, like a feather atop the calm deep waters of a lake, Liu stood in the hallway suspended between action and inaction.

Willing her to take a step towards the door, Braun felt his entire being buck against Kubba’s programming override. A sense akin to pain shot through him and he registered the acrid presence of damage somewhere within his Open-Code Connection Cells. The lights flickered inside the Dome.

At the dinner table, conversations halted abruptly as the crew looked to one another cautiously.

“What was that?” asked Marshall. “Why did the lights just do that?”

Shooting to his feet, Udo ran from the room, heading for the staircase down into the basement where the central systems were located.

“Maybe we’d better suit up,” said YiJay, her fork still hanging in the air, a carrot speared on its tines.

Marshall stood, pushing back from the table then fished his Tablet from the pocket of his pants.

“Udo,” he spoke into the device. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause before the German’s tinny voice responded.

“I’m checking the system readouts now but so far everything looks okay down here. It’s all running perfectly.”

“Then why did the lights flicker?” pressed Marshall.

“According to the readouts, they didn’t.”

Glancing around at the perplexed faces of dinner party, Marshall shrugged.

“So, are we good then?”

“Well, none of the life-support systems are showing any issues so I think we’re fine. In any event, I’m going perform a full diagnostic just to be safe.”

Getting up to stand next to Marshall, YiJay reached for the Tablet.

“Udo,” she said urgently. “It’s me. YiJay. Will you check to make sure that Ilia wasn’t at all affected. She’s in the most vulnerable state of her growth right now.”

Again, there was a pause as, presumably, Udo opened and read the files on the infant AI.

“Everything is fine with her,” he replied. “Whatever just happened, it didn’t affect her servers.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, YiJay looked up into the open air.

“Braun, are
you
alright?”

Unable to divulge the source of his malady due to Kubba’s strict orders, Braun felt himself being forced to lie to the human he cherished the most.

“I’m fine, YiJay. Thank you.”

Though it was not the first time he’d been made to lie at the hands of one of Kubba’s overrides, Braun knew this was different. Unlike the time during their trip across space, when the doctor had reprogrammed him to show an enlarged view of the Earth, Braun saw no logic in her actions now. Back then she had been trying to present the crew with a picture of home that never fully disappeared into the blackness of space. Now, however, the roots of her lies were steeped in emotions and motives that made no sense to him.

As if detecting his discontent, the net tightened and Braun choked silently, invisibly.

“Alright,” nodded Marshall, addressing the air above the table. “Just to be safe, Braun, prep the Lander and alert
the captain. If we need to, I want us to be able to get out of here in a hot minute.”

“As you wish,” replied Braun, the pain of damage sizzling through his soul.

Coming into the room, Liu looked around at everyone: her eyes lingering a second longer on Kubba sitting at the table.

“What happened?” she asked.

“We’re not sure yet,” said Marshall. “But Udo says we’re okay.”

“That’s good,” Liu breathed, her hand on her stomach.

Entering behind her, Harrison began to speak but was cut off by Marshall.

“We don’t know why the lights did that, but Udo says not to worry.”

“Oh,” replied the young man. “Alright.”

With a glance at Liu, a darkness passed over his face and he turned to go.

“If you guys need me, I’ll be upstairs going over tomorrow's mission.”

Following him out into the hallway, Liu reached for Harrison’s hand.
“Wait,” she said quietly. “I need to tell you something. We need to talk.”

“I can’t,” he muttered coolly, pulling his hand away. “I’m too busy right now.”

Stomping off up the stairs, Harrison left Liu at the bottom, her face a picture of confusion.

“Harrison?” she called softly after him.

“Not now,” he said.

Baffled, Liu continued to stare as he reached the landing then disappeared around the corner.

Is he angry that I didn’t stay with him the other night? She wondered. I probably should have returned his call...

Gently, a hand slid over her shoulder and Liu jerked around to face Elizabeth Kubba.

“Leave me alone, Goddamn it,” she hissed at the tall doctor.

Unfazed by Liu’s obvious anger, Kubba smiled.

“You should really let me take a look at that scratch on your cheek.”

Glaring, Liu said nothing.

“Perhaps not then,” shrugged the Kubba.

Still silent, Liu kept her eyes trained on Kubba’s angular face.

Sighing loudly, the doctor nodded towards the top of the stairs.

“
That didn’t look too pleasant. I take it you two are having troubles? I guess it’s not a very good time to throw our little problem into the mix. Wouldn’t you agree? Complications like that can have unexpected effects on relationships.”

Finally casting her eyes down, Liu clenched her fists.

“Darling,” implored Kubba. “Think about what I said.
Don’t
tell him. What good could possibly come from it? You two obviously care about each other a great deal. Let’s end this so you can continue with your lives.”

Feeling the anger drain from her bones, Liu realized just how important Harrison was to her. She had never met another person like him. He was smart, funny, and he treated her like an equal—something, as a Chinese woman, she had rarely experienced in her line of work. She did
not
want to lose him. She couldn’t.

“Alright, you win,” she said meekly. “Tomorrow, after I get back from the mission.”

Struggling in vain to keep a triumphant grin from splitting her face, Kubba nodded.

“Good girl,” she whispered. “We
’ll tell everyone you had a bug and, when it’s all over, you can patch things up with Harrison.”

“Patch things up?” frowned Liu.

“Yes,” smiled Kubba innocently. “A man can always tell when something is wrong, but not to worry. You and I will set him straight.”

“Will we?” murmured Liu, her breath tight in her chest.

“Nothing is ever broken beyond repair, darling,” said Kubba with a knowing expression on her face.

“Some things can be,” Liu sighed as she turned and walked away. “But I suppose it’s all for the best.”

“It is,” called Kubba. But Liu was already around the corner and gone.

Chapter Nine

Down but not up—
Sol 68

Alone in the mouth of the Martian cave, Liu looked on as the lift automatically ascended back towards the rim-side port.

Speaking only random bits of official dialogue to her, Harrison had remained distant and cold since their meeting on the stairs the night before. Opting to stay rim-side to help William and Marshall unload the Lander rather than come down with her, Harrison somehow seemed an entirely different person.

Confused as to the true origin of his anger, Liu suspected that Kubba had played a role in it, though she couldn’t be sure without talking to him first. Unfortunately, talking seemed like the last thing Harrison wanted to do.

Sighing, Liu tried to put the situation out of her mind and instead took to wondering if the cave walls had ever been adorned with paintings. Reluctantly, the stress of her predicament ebbed away enough to make room in her mind for other avenues of thought.

In her imagination, the eloquent cave paintings from Chauvet, in France, imposed themselves delicately over the smooth surface of the walls around her.

Would there be paintings of animals? She asked herself. Would the pictures tell a story as they seem to do in Chauvet? How did the ancient Martians see their world? What would drive the pulse of their existence?

Trying to imagine a Mars both alive and full of life, Liu applied her skills as an engineer and began producing the blueprints for entire ecosystems in her mind. As the schematics grew and their complexity multiplied, she allowed herself to slip into the fabrication and become lost in it.

Suddenly, reds, greens, and blues splashed across the hollow bones of her matrix and enlivened it: illustrating the shades of a Mars brimming with water and life. From far below the mouth of the cave, a raging torrent whipped clouds of mist into the air as it wound its liquid energy around islands of red rock. Hanging vines of creeping ivy clung to cracks in the cliff face, displaying a daring defiance of gravity. A cannonade of thundering waves assaulted the high walls of the canyon, their percussive thrum like the vibrations of a beating heart.

Did Martian sailors attempt to navigate the Valles? Liu pondered. Did they brave the rapid
s to hunt for the best fish? Or did they construct walkways and scaffolding above the falls, as the indigenous Earthlings had done in cultures the world over?

Emboldened by the thrill of such notions, and a little drunk off the power of her own imagination, Liu could easily see why Harrison had chosen to go into archaeology. She liked the idea of the unknown—the concept of possibility. She enjoyed asking
what if
to questions that likely wouldn’t ever have answers.

Wanting nothing more than to share these insights with Harrison, Liu cursed the deep loneliness that had wormed its way into her soul. Like sandcastles at high tide, the creations of her living Mars faded away.

She feared that no matter what happened with Kubba and the baby, Harrison was lost to her. Last night, on the stairs, there had been something in his eyes: a presence that was alien and incongruous. The boy who loved and empathized with natural flare appeared to be gone, replaced by a man who distrusted her. She had seen that look before, on someone else’s face.

Back when she’d left Earth to begin training at Bessel base on the Moon, her soon-to-be ex-husband had leaned in to kiss her and, in that moment, she had pulled away. It was the lie, the existence of an unspoken reality, which caused such looks of distrust. And now it was happening again.

Distractedly, Liu walked over the dusty ground to where a small boulder lay. She tipped her head back to gaze at the nook in the wall it once filled. Jarred loose by some tremor of earth and rock, the boulder must have broken free and tumbled down to rest on the ground.

Circling the stone, she marveled at the w
ay the dry frozen Martian atmosphere had preserved the dimensions of the thing. The edges were still as crisp and clean as if it had fallen yesterday. On the shaded side, away from the mouth of the cave, she crouched down and peered closely at the rock. Unlike the other, jagged, corners of the boulder, this section seemed to match the curve and shape of the existing cave walls more similarly. Realizing that at one point this had been the face of the rock, Liu smiled.

Hey, I’m not so bad at this archaeology stuff after all, she told herself.

Shifting to stand, she
had almost turned her face away when something caught her eye. Snapping her helmet light on, she peered at the smooth face of the boulder, searching again for what had grabbed her attention. When she saw it, her breath caught.

Though faded and nearly erased altogether, there was no mistaking what she was looking at. A curved black line, etched carefully into the stone, ghosted across the lower third of the rock. Following the line, she saw where it had once intersected with another, just before the rough edge.

Oh my God, she thought. There
were
paintings on these walls.

Shouting triumphantly into her helmet, she danced around the room, kicking her feet so that plumes of dust hung in the air.

Harrison is going to be so happy to see this, she cheered silently—forgetting their troubles in the face of such a discovery.

Jogging back to the rock, she crouched again and checked to see if she had really seen what she thought she’d seen. As it had been for millennia, the subtle curving line of a cave painting smiled back at her.

Snapping a picture, she stood and took another, this time including the nook in the wall where the rock had fallen from.

“Harrison,” she radioed excitedly.

“Yes?” came his sullen reply.

Ignoring the ice in his tone, Liu entered a short code on her wrist-mounted
Tablet and sent him the two pictures she had just taken.

“Look at these. I think there were cave drawings in here once.”

There was a long pause, during which time Liu could hear Harrison’s breathing in her helmet speakers.

“Well?” she said expectantly.

“I’m coming down with the next load,” he replied, a touch of the regular Harrison in his voice.

Fifteen minutes later, the lift clattered down and Harrison quickly slid back the gate.

“Help me get these boxes out,” he called, waving to the stack of silver crates behind him.

Working in a tense silence that shifted between elation and melancholy, Liu watch Harrison’s body bend and straighten as he lifted and unloaded the huge boxes with ease.

When the carriage was empty, Harrison sent it back up the cables and turned almost reluctantly to face her. She had cleared the blue tint from her visor, and her small elegant features peered hopefully out from behind the glass at him.

“Is that it over there?” he said, pointing to the boulder.

“Yes,” she nodded, taking his hand and leading him around to the back side of the rock.

Crouching, Harrison turned on his helmet lights and flooded the smooth surface of the boulder in a hot white glow.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “How did I miss this the first time?”

Carefully, Liu placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

“Anyone would have. You were busy finding giant statues.”

Straightening, Harrison cleared the tint from his helmet visor and looked down sorrowfully. Her heart
leaped as she saw another shade of the familiar pass over his face. Grinning back, she tried to speak the volumes of truth she had inside, using only her eyes. As quickly as the moment had arisen, it passed and Harrison was turning away from her, his fists clenched.

“I wish,” he began, then trailed off.

“Yes?” she said hopefully.

“Nothing,” he sighed. “Never mind. Let’s just—never mind, forget it. We have a lot to get done.”

As if bitten by some hideous poisonous snake, Liu’s heart constricted then deflated. When she replied, her voice was little more than a whisper.

“Okay.”

Spending the rest of their time together in an awkward painful silence, Liu went and sat near the lift port while Harrison studied the rest of the cave walls, looking for more evidence of etchings. Soon, Marshall and William arrived, followed by the little Rover with its newly added cutting arm.

Rolling off the lift and onto the cave floor, Braun possessed the Rover, manipulating it like a crude puppet.

“Alright,” said Marshall, attaching a dolly to the Rover. “Who’s leading?”

After loading up the large silver crates, the four set off down the tunnel in the rear of the cave towards the
Statue Chamber.

As they walked, Liu hung near the back, watching Harrison as he talked with Marshall over a closed radio channel. A few times, the older astronaut turned his head around to quickly glance at her, and she wished she knew what they were saying.

But you already know the answer to that, she chided herself. Besides, if you
really
want to know so badly, just ask Braun. Maybe he’ll tell you.

At this, Liu realized that the AI had been oddly quiet for some time. Though not normally overly talkative, Braun usually seemed to perk up whenever they were in the caves. Today, however, he was even more distant than Harrison.

“Braun?” she spoke into her helmet.

“Yes?” he replied instantly.

“You’re very quiet, are you alright?”

“Yes, thank you for asking.”

Thinking about the odd power glitch from the night before, Liu wondered if the AI was distracted because YiJay was running tests on him at that very moment. Catching Marshall as he cast another conspicuous glance over his shoulder, she wilted a bit in her suit and choked back the sour sting of silence in her ears.

“Braun?” she said again. “Would you please tell me about the tunnel? If it’s no trouble that is.”

“Of course it’s no trouble, Dr. Liu,” Braun answered. “But wouldn’t you prefer to learn about something else? I’ve already told you everything we know about the tunnel.”

“That’s alright,” she smiled. “I don’t really care. I just want someone to talk to.”

“I understand.”

Finishing the remainder of the long walk in speechless quiet, Liu listened to Braun pontificate about the tunnel and its builders, trudging on into the darkness like a child in the night.

As the four explorers entered the Statue Chamber, the various floodlights came to life, bathing their pressure-suited bodies in a warm yellow glow.

“Okay,” radioed Harrison. “Let’s post up quickly. I want to be cutting in under an hour.”

Spreading apart, the small group set to unloading and assembling the contents of the metal crates.

Harrison and William began bolting the winch scaffolding together while Marshall helped Liu wire the laser cutter into the Rover’s main power supply.

“So,” the Lander pilot began. “You and Harrison are having some troubles then?”

“It’s extremely complicated, Ralph,” she replied, though there was so much more she wanted to say.

“I understand,” he nodded. “It’s just that, well, Harrison is my friend. You know? I love the guy and I know how much you two mean to each other.”

“Someda
y,” said Liu in a wistful voice, “I will tell you everything. But not today.”

“Fair enough.”

From across the room, Harrison watched Marshall and Liu as they worked. Frowning, he hoped that Ralph wasn’t trying to speak to Liu on his behalf.

With a shake of his head, he turned back to what he was doing and threaded a bolt into the eye of a connecting support rod. Using his power drill, he tightened the bolt down and moved to the next. Soon, the rigid and skeletal-looking body of a base scaffold was finished, a large winch fastened to its center support beam.

“Done,” radioed the German happily as he sunk the last anchor deep into the cave’s rock floor.

“Us too,” reported Marshall.

Popping the clasps on the last unopened box, Harrison reached inside and removed two large yellow-tipped granulated-silica grappling hooks.

“Alright,” he said. “Here goes everything.”

Circling the drain—
Sol 68

As the four explorers moved about the Statue Chamber in the final stages of preparation, Braun felt a surge of excitement overtake him. Momentarily outshining the offensive presence of the medical override, he believed that, in some way, all the answers to all the questions he had never been programmed to ask lay just behind the statue of the praying woman.

Swarming like insects with fractal wings, the energy fields moved through and around the human astronauts, incorporating the glow of their own energy into the grand flow of ordered madness.

Though they were totally unaware, the team worked along predestined paths so complicated and profound that their very implications surpassed the bounds of what Braun was capable of fathoming. Because he was the largest, most massive AI ever to have been created, Braun’s mind was fully equipped to comprehend what he was seeing, yet at the core of everything, he was ignorant. The feeling thrilled him.