Page 7 of Alone
I never cursed as much while there were still other settlers living here. Now that I'm alone, my filter has gone. Not that anyone could hear it and complain.
I lean against Will's pod, my cheek warm against the metal. It's vibrating gently, a soft humming that signals that life is still in there. In two weeks' time, that humming will stop. By then, my men need to be ready for the Martian experience.
I chuckle humourlessly. I imagined Mars to be less deadly. And it was okay, for the first years, until that virus came. It's hard to remember now, but I did have some good times here. I set a new marathon record when I first came here, taking advantage of the lesser gravity. Of course, it didn't count on Earth, but it was fun to do nonetheless, beating all those athletes back home.
And the parties we used to have... I sigh at the memory. Dancing, having fun, drinking the home brew we technically weren't allowed to make. But who could stop us, ground control? They didn't have a clue about half the stuff going on here. And until the Drowning happened, I'd have said that they also didn't know about the hardships we faced... now, they probably know. Their people are dying, just like mine did.
"What the fuck is this world coming to?" I ask the guys but they don't reply. They never do.
***
OVER THE PAST FEW DAYS, the lab has become my second home. Again. In between, I'd moved back into my old room, not wanting to be reminded of my failure, but now the mattress is back in its old spot in the corner. It's not being used a lot, not since I discovered that I could reprogramme our coffee machine to increase the caffeine per cup. To a lot. I definitely won't tell ground control about that. And the palpitations I feel from time to time... who cares. My men are depending on me, all six of them.
They tell me how grateful they are, how they appreciate me working day and night. It makes me like them even more. Soon, I'll be able to take them into my arms. I'll hug them and tell them how much they mean to me. Maybe we'll even kiss... a girl can dream.
The machine in front of me has spat out the latest vaccine. This is supposed to be the one. All I've had to do is feed it my blood and other substances I found around the lab. The scientists sound confident this time, but it's hard to tell the truth from a lie if you only see lines of text on a screen.
They could just be stalling for time. They have bigger problems down on Earth than a few settlers on Mars. Maybe they want us all to die so they can focus on the real problems.
No, those are bad thoughts. I need to believe that there's hope. Otherwise I'll give up and so will the guys. I tell them every day that I believe in them, believe in us. That soon we'll be all together, happily living as a family.
Up here, there are no conventions. If I want to live with six men, who's to say that's wrong. And they don't have any problem with it, I'm sure. They've not said it in as many words, but they look like they're open to such a relationship.
I smile as I imagine our first kiss. All of us together, our bodies entwined, our tongues dancing, our breaths ragged. Their hands on my skin. I shiver with excitement. Soon. This time it has to work.
Reinvigorated, I take the vaccine and a syringe and make my way into the loading bay. Maybe I should put the pods somewhere else, somewhere more welcoming. When they wake up, they might want to see something that looks like home. The loading bay is all metal and functional, not beautiful at all. It's built for purpose, and usually new arrivals don't spend much time in here before being ushered into the main part of the station. There are not even windows in here through which they could see the beautiful barren Mars landscape outside. It's a harsh land, but it does have its own sparse beauty. The sunsets are spectacular when the red dust is lit up by orange light. After the sun has set, a gentle twilight glow usually stays for a sol or two, making the transition from day to night more gentle than on Earth.
Recently, I've not had time to admire the sunset. I should really do so again, even if I take just a few minutes. Life without beauty is hardly worth living.
The men look as peaceful as always. Even Toby is sleeping with a half smile on his face. It's barely visible, but I see it. He's forgiven me for his injured arm, he understands that it wasn't my fault. Now I only need to forgive myself.
"Hey boys," I greet them, "today's the day. Who wants to go first?"
None of them volunteer.
"Okay, shall we do eeny-meeny-miny-moe?" I ask but they stay silent. They're going to make me decide. Again. It's not fair. Children's rhyme it is.
"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,
Catch a rocket by the toe.
If it explodes, let it go,
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe."
My shaking finger is pointing at Bastian. At the beginning, I saw him as my favourite, but now they're all equally mine. If he doesn't have a reaction to the vaccine, I'll finally be able to brush that stray lock of hair out of his face. It's going to be the best thing I've done for weeks. Not opening the pod to do so has been an exercise in patience unlike anything I've ever done.
"Bastian, are you ready?" I ask him, but he's too nervous to reply.
Strangely enough, I'm not as shaky as I was the first time. It's already gone wrong before, so maybe I'll be lucky this time? It's really time for Lady Luck to travel to Mars and spend some time with me. I think I deserve it after all the misery of the past months.
I check his vitals, just in case, but everything is as it should be. With a deep breath, I enter the code that will open his pod. Better do this quickly, before the nerves set in.
"Everything is going to be okay," I tell him. "This will work, and you'll be able to wake up and spend some time with me. We'll wake up all of the others and we'll be happy together. Would you like that?”
They all agree with me. And why wouldn't they? We'll have a wonderful life together, here on Mars.
A beep alerts me that the pod is going to open any second now. I grip the syringe tightly and wait for the hiss and the steam that always accompanies the opening.
