Page 3 of Alone
Louise>>Fuck you.
***
“THEY WANT ME TO MAKEa vaccine,” I tell Will. He’s the best listener of the six. Of course, none of them can hear what I’m saying, but his face makes him look like a nice guy. Someone who would listen and then give advice, or a hug. “But they don’t know if it’s safe. It goes against my morals to make something that could hurt you. But they’re right, if I don’t give it to you, you may all die anyway.” I run my hand through my long hair. I stopped dyeing it months ago, it wasn’t worth the effort, but the ends are still an orangey red. My own brown colour is shining through more strongly now; maybe I should cut off the ends to have a uniform colour. When the men wake up, I might want to look a little more presentable than now. I look down on myself. My clothes are dirty and tattered, my hands are stained with black machine oil from the maintenance I did earlier and my shoes are covered in red Mars dust. I’ve had other priorities than worrying about my looks. And that won’t change any time soon. Even when the men wake up, they’ll need time to adjust to life on the station. They won’t be able to carry their weight immediately, and I’ll have to teach them a lot. Three of them are scientists, one is a mechanic, one a cook and Han is a doctor.
I step to Han’s pod. He’s the only Asian among the six. According to his file he was born in China but was adopted and grew up in Belgium, one of the countries that are pretty much gone now. I wonder if he lost any family in the Drowning. I’ll have to find a good moment to tell them about what transpired on Earth while they were asleep. It’s been hard for me to accept and I’ve been given updates about it at least once a week – it will be terrible for them. If I was them, I’d think the person telling them was crazy. Maybe I should let them get to know me first before I drop that bombshell on them.
I sigh and walk to the final pod. Jordan. At first glance, he looks a little dangerous with his shaved head and the tribal tattoos around his ears. They disappear behind his head and I wonder where they end. His dark skin stands out in the pale light of the lifepod. No idea why they spend energy on keeping a light on, it’s not as if the men in the cocoons would notice. They’re as fast asleep as anyone can be.
Jordan doesn’t look like a scientist, but looks can be deceiving. He’s got three PhDs and a long list of publications under his name and is probably the cleverest of them all. Me included. I’m looking forward to having some long talks with him. I’ve missed having stimulating conversations with others. No matter how much I play devil’s advocate with myself, it’s just not the same. Arguing with myself is no fun in the long run.
I wave them goodbye and leave the loading bay. I’ve not seen any point in spending time in moving them somewhere else. They won’t know where they are anyway.
Week 2
“Hey Bastian. It didn’twork and now I have to wait at least another week for them to figure out what went wrong.”
I lean onto the pod and look at his pretty sleeping face.
“The pH was too acidic and it would have killed you as soon as I’d injected it. Now we’re back to the drawing board and with one of their labs destroyed, it’s going to take them even longer to come up with a solution.”
I draw a finger over the glass as if to remove the stray lock of hair from his face. It’s still irritating me.
“Why couldn’t you brush your hair before you went to sleep?” I ask him sternly. “Now I have to fight the temptation to open your pod whenever I look at you.” I smile. “And I like looking at you. I like looking at you all. The more I look at you, the more it feels like I know you. By the time you wake up, we’ll be friends.”
I press a soft kiss on the glass and move on to Jim. He’s one of the scientists but his file isn’t very forthcoming with what he’s specialising in. I assume it’s something classified, but not knowing make me jittery. I want to get to know them all, learn anything about them I can find, and more. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with them and I don’t like surprises.
I stare at his scar, wondering if it will move when he talks. Does it hurt? Probably not, the scar tissue isn’t very thick and he got it over two decades ago. It takes away the symmetry of his otherwise flawless face, but it’s not as irritating as Bastian’s hair. Jim can’t do anything about his scar, it’s part of him.
“What kind of research do you do?” I ask him, calling up his file again. “Why doesn’t it say? What is so special about it? Will it be a danger to the station? Is it still relevant now that the Drowning has happened? People on Earth are no longer interested in science, all they want to do is survive. Unless you do climate science, they probably won’t care. Will that disappoint you? Will you be able to adapt?”
I search his face for any sign that he can hear me. It’s silly, I know he’s in a coma. I think I may slowly be losing my mind. It's probably time.
I should probably get some sleep, but instead I stay in the loading bay, staring at the six men.
Toby is a cook, but you wouldn't guess that from his slender frame. Not slender, really, just not big. I imagine cooks as having a large belly, rosy cheeks and not much hair. Total stereotype. In contrast, Toby looks more like an athlete, someone who runs marathons, not like someone who stands in a kitchen all day. I hope he's a good cook. My meals have consisted of quickly boiled vegetables from our green houses, devoured quickly while already rushing to the next task. I've not had time to sit down for dinner in ages. Hopefully that will change soon, once they're awake. We can all sit together, talk, enjoy the food that Toby has made for us. It will feel like life again, not like this strange existence I'm currently leading.
