c. 2024 Rod Ice
All Rights Reserved
(9-24)
When the wandering transport finally reached Mars, Kelly Strafe sighed heavily, feeling relieved. Though she never doubted her vessel’s ability to traverse the distance between Planet Earth and her own homeworld, lingering thoughts of some unexpected intervention made her anxious. She fretted over what reception might await her at the space dock. And, on the surface at New Cleveland.
Radio chatter echoed in her headset, as she swooped around the giant, red rock, and found an open lane toward the connecting bay. She slowed to a crawl, then let the silver spear guide itself by inertia. Clamps and seals did their work, automatically. Then, she opened the access hatch by remote control.
A station engineer greeted her with the professional monotone of a military conscript.
“Ibid-C, you are cleared to disembark. We have been expecting your return since being hailed, one month ago...”
Strafe gathered her few belongings in a mesh tote, and wiggled through the temporary corridor, onto a reception platform at the dock. Her longish, blonde hair had been pulled straight back, in a ponytail. She wore the tactical garb of a civilian contractor. But did her best to look properly groomed for a meeting with those in charge of the facility. She suspected that Commander Hornell Block might be the first to bid her welcome. But instead, the octagonal room was empty.
Admiral Corel Nauga appeared, as she was waiting. He had a severe facial expression that heightened her sense of uneasiness. When he spoke, a lilt in his voice reflected being raised on outer worlds where human contact was rare and cherished. He had the unconvincing appearance of an alien, mimicking a genuine member of their species, like an actor.
“Lieutenant, I am glad to see you back at this terminal. Your exit came too quickly. We never have enough skilled officers on hand. I regret that you resigned your commission...”
The former soldier was irritated by his diplomatic jargon.
“With all due respect sir, which is a quantity of zero, go screw yourself! I don’t have that rank any longer!”
The supreme official held his breath for a moment. Then nodded with understanding.
“You have been through a lot, Kelly. Bouncing back and forth between yesterday and today, in the context of human experience. That must have taken a toll on your mind. Indeed, doctors here have determined that they think your cognitive abilities were affected. Therefore, you will not be held responsible for jumping ship, and leaving for that blue ball between here and Venus...”
Strafe was confused by his cool demeanor, and cryptic observations.
“Doctors? What the hell does that mean? You did some kind of assessment after I left?”
Nauga smiled with feigned concern.
“It was unanimous among those on our medical staff that you needed treatment. I only wish it could have been done before you jetted off to find our meddling university professor, Dr. Baines. He couldn’t have helped to ease the maladies in your cerebrum...”
The former Space Force participant narrowed her eyes, and hissed.
“Maladies? What’s that horseshit? I’m not sick, you asshole! And I never got to see Judson, he’s stranded in what used to be Ohio, at the moment. That’s why I flew back here, this is my new mission. I need someone to provide a platform for his rescue. We can’t just leave him on that old world, to die!”
Admiral Nauga burst into a cacophonous explosion of laughter. His hands tightened, reflexively.
“Kelly, this wild request all but confirms your impairment. Forgive me for not noticing it before. Forgive us, we should have done better to meet your needs and offer protection...”
Strafe had turned oddly cold. Her mouth was dry and rough, like sandpaper.
“I’M NOT IMPAIRED, GAWDAMMIT! QUIT PLAYING GAMES, COREL!”
The military champion shrugged and bowed with a courteous gesture of surrender.
“Very well then, I’ll leave you on your own. Remember that I wanted to offer assistance. Remember also that those who spurn their commission still carry a stamp of service to the Mars colonies. It is in your DNA now, like a virtual tattoo. You can’t shed who and what you are, like a snake slipping out of its skin...”
Wall-plates situated along the corridor parted for long enough to let him leave, abruptly. Then, she was alone once more. A screeching pitch of electronic surveillance filled her ears, as she stood, silent and trembling. A pulsing cadence intensified, until the speed and volume made her temples throb. She held the sides of her face, as the synthetic din became unbearable.
“STOP IT YOU DICKHEAD! STOP TORTURING ME! I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE! STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!”
When Strafe awakened, she was at a clinic on the Red Planet. A team of physicians hovered around her body, which had been placed in the Velcro restraints of a Hideki Wellness Chair. Twin projectors cycled on each side of her skull.
A thin, balding fellow seemed to be guiding the group. He tapped at icons on a touchscreen array, which was connected to the hi-tech devices surrounding her seat. His white, laboratory coat indicated a supervisory position on the hospital crew
“Lieutenant, please relax. My procedures will be more successful if you do not offer resistance...”
She was angry and defiant, yet strangely weak and unable to move.
“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU ALL! FUCK THE ADMIRAL, AND COMMANDER BLOCK!”
Chief Healer Askan Bowles closed his eyes briefly. He was not accustomed to such verbal outbursts, in their restricted social setting. He fiddled with a wireless probe, that monitored patient life signs in real time.
“You heart rate is up, and your blood pressure. Please calm down! This does not help the healing regimen to take effect. I need you to breathe deeply and evenly. Fixate on a pleasant memory. Allow your consciousness to open, as if you are meditating. You will feel a series of negligible, electric shocks, from right and left. They are the signature of this machine...”
Strafe pulled hard against the straps that bound her arms and legs. The forked cap that surrounded her head had begun to glow with infrared heat. She could feel an emptiness engulfing her waking self. A vast sea of nothing. Black and gray, and smothering in its intensity. An invisible veil that soon separated her from clinging to any unique, human identity. Her name, her history, everything was now forgotten.
She was an empty jar. No longer serving any purpose with her own existence.
Bowles switched off the amplified chair, after it had finished running through the electronic sequence.
“Well done, Ms. Strafe. Your realignment is now complete. Rest is my prescription. Rest and heal, until tomorrow...”
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