Ghosts of Ceres

L ooking out through the reinforced polymer window, Nick watched the second sunrise of the day. At first, there was only darkness, and then a heartbeat later, there was light. A single, bright point of light that shone over the top of the mountains that marked the rim of the giant Piazzi crater. All other stars faded into oblivion, reduced to nothingness by the harsh naked glare of the distant sun. He lowered his eyes, wanting more than anything to gaze out on a particular point of light, blue green in colour, but Earth, too, was obscured by the glare. He would have to wait until the sun set, four and a half hours from now, when his home would briefly hang over the horizon before it too dropped from sight. Then, night would begin, and through the darkness, they would return.

Nick turned away from the window. There was too much to do. There was always too much to do, but first he must sleep.

He brushed his hand against an anodised recessed plate, and the door slid noiselessly open, admitting him to a long, gently curving corridor beyond. His footsteps echoed hollowly as he made his way tiredly to the habitation wing, stopping outside the door to his sleeping chamber. Should he enter? What did it matter? They always found him. The dead were drawn to the living.

His lips tightened into a thin line as he entered the room.

#

Nick awoke shivering, knowing at once that he had overslept, a knowledge that was quickly confirmed by a glance towards the red blinking digits of the wall display. Soon it would begin.

He crossed the darkened room, activating the small basin, splashing precious water on his face.

"Lights."

Two small globes embedded within the ceiling began to glow, illuminating the chamber with a soft golden light.

"I've been waiting for you."

Nick turned at the sound of Annabel's voice. It had begun. She lay outstretched upon the small bed, her posture clearly an invitation.

"Please Annabel, no..."

"You used to like me like this."

It was true. He had often found her ready to commence another bout of low gravity lust, but that was before. That was when she was still alive.

"Annabel, please."

"Don't you want me anymore, Nick?" In one fluid motion, she threw the covers back, revealing the pale, alabaster body that he had spent so many hours exploring.

"Nick. Look at me." She lowered a small hand to her breast.

He closed his eyes. The pale body that he knew so well was outside, exposed to the airless night. She wasn't here. She couldn't be.

"Nick."

He opened his eyes and looked at the woman before him.

Her hand ceased its circular motion and she sat up, bringing her face into the soft light. The wound was still there, just as it had been two weeks before when a pea-sized meteorite had burrowed its way through both her helmet and skull, killing her instantly.

"Nick, I said, don't you want me anymore?"

Her voice was firm now, becoming angry. As he shook his head, he felt fresh tears begin to form.

"Annabel, why?" he choked.

Her face softened for a moment, and she shook her head sadly, dislodging a lock of raven-black hair that fell over the side of her face, mercifully obscuring her fatal wound.

"I'm sorry, Nick; I just want to be with you."

Nick closed his eyes as his emotions overwhelmed him. A sob managed to escape as he fell to his knees. He opened his eyes a moment later as he felt a small breeze of sterile, recycled air move across his cheek, but Annabel was gone.

#

He'd been here on Ceres for a little over a year, an Earth year. A barren rock six hundred miles in diameter, named after the Roman earth goddess of agriculture and fertility.

In hindsight, it was hard to believe that he had actually wanted to come here, to escape the pressures of living on an overpopulated, troubled world. One Ceres year, four point six Earth years. At the time it seemed like an escape, not a sentence. He could still remember the lightness in his step as he passed through the airlock that first time, a lightness that was not entirely due to the low gravity. He'd stepped into the facility like a child, eyes wide in wonder and excitement, attempting to memorize every detail of this place. That was when he had seen her for the first time.

She was leaning against one of the impossibly tall supporting pillars, long black hair framing her pale face, watching him with an amused smile.

"Hi, there. You must be Nickolai."

"Please, call me Nick." He lowered his eyes and extended his hand, embarrassed that he had been staring.

"Nick." She took his hand. "I'm Annabel. Welcome to Ceres."

On the whirlwind tour that followed, Nick was sure that he had memorized nothing of the facility - only details of his beautiful guide. He'd found himself turning to face her as she pointed towards some section of the base, following the slender hand backwards toward her shoulder instead of the direction of her finger.

"No, over there," she had said with a smile, as she caught the direction of his gaze.

Embarrassed, he had turned away.

The tour had ended at the door to his quarters.

"Nick, there's something perhaps you should know."

The door slid silently open behind him. Annabel led him into the room.

"Including you, there are now four people living on Ceres. The other two are both male. This can cause certain tensions."

Nick cast his eyes towards the floor, as she continued.

"There are certain standards of behaviour we all have to live by. I've seen the way you've been looking at me. And there's something you have to understand."

She stood and walked to the far wall, leaving Nick facing her back.

"There is no place in this facility for jealous relationships. I'm my own person, and I sleep with whom I choose." She turned to face him. "I'm sorry but it had to be said."

Nick stepped close. "I'm sorry. I should've realised."

She smiled.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Leaning closer, she kissed him gently upon his lips. "Lights."

The room plunged into darkness.

#

"It's all your fault Nick, you do realise that, don't you?" The reverie was broken by the harsh words.

"Martin."

"You killed me! You and her, you left me to die."

Nick turned to face the man who was once his friend. "I didn't know until it was too late."

It was hard to ignore the crimson stains on the arms of the otherwise spotless overalls that Martin wore. It was even harder to ignore the accusation in his voice.

"I'd changed my mind. I wanted to live. I tried calling but there was no answer. You could've saved me."

Nick had nothing to say. It was true. He turned away, facing instead the neutral grey of the corridor walls, wishing for the return of the sun.

"I thought we were friends."

Nick felt a short rush of air, and knew without turning, that once again, he was alone. "We were friends," he whispered into the silence.

With his head lowered, he began the long, slow walk to the observation room.

#

Of all the others, Martin's death had troubled him the most. He was the one that had found the body, lying prone on the floor beside the intercom. A trail of blood led from his bed. It was everywhere. Smeared on the walls, soaked into the thin mattress. Nick couldn't believe that there could have been so much blood in one body. On a small table beside the bed, he found the note. Two words carefully penned in the middle of the paper. "I'm sorry." No explanation, only the apology.

Everything was vague after that. Nick remembered the room beginning to spin, the voice yelling for help that sounded so much like his own, the bitter taste of bile in his throat. But after that, nothing. Nothing until he woke up on a single bed in a brightly lit room that smelt strongly of antiseptic, looking up into Annabel's brown, tear-stained eyes.

"Why did he do it?" he had asked, but there was no answer. Not then.

"I've already told you why." Connor's voice echoed around him.

"Because you drove him to it." Nick tried to keep the accusation from his voice.

"He killed me. I had every right."

Nick whirled around, angrily searching for the source of the voice. "Nobody has that right."

"You think I didn't see you? The way that you both were with her, like one big, happy family? You, Martin, and Annabel, my wife."

Nick turned towards the sudden blast of cold air to see Connor standing before him, blood and malice dripping from his damaged eyes.

"You don't know how cold it gets in space." Connor's face twisted into a sneer. "But you will. Soon."

"Just leave me alone."

"But Nick, who else is there? There's nobody else left, and there's nowhere for us to go."

Nick began running, desperate to escape the mocking voice. He charged into the observation room, bruising his shoulder on the hard steel of the door. The laughter followed him, taunting him.

"Come on, Nick, why don't you join us, join the family?"

"Please, Nick," Annabel's voice joined in, "I need you. It's so lonely here."

"We can be friends again," Martin added to the chorus.

Nick raised his hands to his ears, a vain attempt to block out the voices. "Please, leave me alone," he whispered.

"I love you, Nick," Annabel's voice whispered, accompanied by the soft scent of flowers she always wore.

"I'll forgive you Nick, just come with us." Martin's voice was plaintive, cajoling.

"It's so easy." Connor's voice this time.

It would be too, Nick realised. There was the emergency airlock. All he had to do was type in the three-digit override code, pull the handle, and it would all end. He would join his friends, his love. He knew at that moment that this is what he wanted, and he reached for the pad, keying the first digit.

"That's it, come to me my love."

He pushed the second button.

"We'll be friends again."

With the third digit entered, a red warning light began to flash over the released handle.

"Join us. Pull the handle."

"Be with me, Nick."

"Join us."

Nick's hand inched forward, his fingertips brushing against the release mechanism. His hand shook violently as a last reserve of willpower began to resist.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Nick tore his hand away and as the echoes of his scream died, the distant sun burst over the crater rim. Light flooded into the room. A sudden gust of air blew over his face, as he spun around. He was alone again. Pulling himself to his feet, he stared out of the window, drawing in deep breaths of the tasteless air. It had been close this time. The closest it had ever been. In fifteen days, the re-supply ship was due to dock. If he survived that long, he could go home. Fifteen Earth days, forty Ceres nights. It was a long time, and it was getting harder to resist. All he could do was try.

© 2004 P.D. Stevenson