\nAt first the disease seemed minor, no reason for fear. Cooper, the drilling superintendent, checked some dials and smiled. \u201cWe\u2019ve put your straw in Ganymede. Take a drink.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nNext to the pump, clear water from the moon\u2019s underground sea flowed into the sample containers. \u201cTesting before drinking, I want to see what\u2019s in it first.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAfraid you might not like the taste?\u201d He was joking as usual, but his voice sounded shaky. He sat on a rock to watch the samples being collected.\n<\/p>\n
\nWhen the containers were full, I turned to see Cooper clutching his stomach. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nGingerly he stood. His usually ruddy face was pale. \u201cStomachache.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWe\u2019re done for the day. Go see what the doc has for indigestion.\u201d Indigestion, no worries.\n<\/p>\n
\nNext morning in the lab, the base commander\u2019s voice came over the com. \u201cScott, go to sick bay. They need help with lab work.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThat was the medtechs\u2019 job. \u201cI\u2019m about to analyze our new samples, can\u2019t it wait?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cGo now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe sick bay door was locked\u2014why lock a door on Ganymede? I knocked and Dr. Susan Alidou, our chief medical officer, came out and quickly closed the door behind her. She wore a mask and a yellow protective garment that formed seals with her gloves and boots.\n<\/p>\n
\nI smiled. \u201cLooking sharp.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nShe didn\u2019t smile back as she handed me a second outfit. \u201cPut these on right away\u2014mask, gloves, everything. Make sure the seals are tight.\u201d A shout came from inside sick bay, and she ran to see what it was.\n<\/p>\n
\nAfter putting on the protective stuff, I went into sick bay. The acidic smell of vomit hung in the air. Every bed was full, some of the patients were softly moaning. Susan and her two medtechs were frantically working on Cooper. His eyes were wide open and unfocused. Yesterday morning, he\u2019d been healthy and fit. After a few minutes, Susan straightened up and pulled a sheet over his face. A cold wind of fear made my hands tremble.\n<\/p>\n
\nSusan led me to a small lab and pointed to a tray of blood and tissue samples. \u201cWe need to identify the illness right away. Analyze those and see if the AI-1070 can find anything in its libraries.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nI did a full chemical analysis of all the samples and took pictures at a level of magnification that would show every molecule. Susan came back as the AI processed the information. Its flat mechanical voice announced, \u201cTests detected no sign of any known pathogen or toxin.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nSusan snorted with impatience and told the communicator to open a link to the Byrd<\/em>, the ship that brought us here and still orbited above us.\n<\/p>\n \nIn a moment, the smiling face of Dr. Simpson, their chief medical officer, filled the com screen. \u201cMorning, Susan, how-\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nSusan cut him off. \u201cWe have a medical emergency. Twenty-five cases of an unknown illness that doesn\u2019t respond to medication, two fatalities so far, and more if we don\u2019t solve this fast. We\u2019ll uplink data on tissue, blood, and urine samples, and patient vital signs. Symptoms are nausea, rash mostly on the face and hands, fever, and in a few cases hallucinations. Send that information to Mars Base and Earth and tell them to figure out what it is ASAP.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nWe talked to Simpson again later that day. He sounded so very calm. \u201cThree of Earth\u2019s best labs have all the information you gave us and are working on the problem full time. But the symptoms are so general-.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nSusan\u2019s voice got loud. \u201cWe have ten more cases and more fatalities. My patients may not have much time.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nSimpson shook his head. \u201cYou\u2019re in a terrible situation. It almost makes me think of the Ganymede curse.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nSusan\u2019s eyes blazed. \u201cForget that garbage. Get me an answer.\u201d She hit a switch, and the screen went black.\n<\/p>\n \nSimpson\u2019s mention of the \u201ccurse\u201d got me mad too. When planning for our base started, they sent unmanned probes to orbit Ganymede. The first three crashed on the moon\u2019s surface. Two attempts to land personnel also crashed, with a loss of all 6 crew members. Exploring new worlds is hard and dangerous, and accidents are to be expected, but they still lead to stupid talk.\n<\/p>\n \nSusan lightly touched my arm. \u201cI hate to ask this, but could you dispose of the dead?\u201d She sighed. \u201cWe\u2019ll have memorial services later, but immediate cremation may help in infection control.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSure, I\u2019ll take care of them both.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cFour now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEach body was wrapped in a sheet, placed on a gurney, and wheeled to the plasma incinerator. I put the body in a chamber, closed the gate, and said a little prayer. Then the incinerator destroyed everything in the chamber, including the germs. That didn\u2019t help. Five more people died the next day.\n<\/p>\n \nOn the third day, the base commander staggered into sick bay, a sheen of perspiration on his forehead and a rash blooming on his cheeks. He shouted, \u201cI saw them, in my quarters, small and horrible.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBefore the plague, he had been a model of calm reason. Susan came up behind him with an injection to knock him out, then she laid his unconscious body on the nearest bed. He was dead in an hour.\n<\/p>\n \nSusan took her frustrations out on Simpson. \u201cI\u2019ve tried every antibiotic, every antiviral, and every antiprionic I\u2019ve got. No response to any of them. Fifty-six cases, ten deaths so far. We could lose every person on this base, and what are you doing?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nSimpson let out a deep breath. \u201cWe\u2019ve got lots of people working around the clock, on board, on Mars, on Earth. It\u2019s everyone\u2019s highest priority\u2014only priority. I have to go now.\u201d The screen went dark.\n<\/p>\n \nSusan shook her head. \u201cSo easy when you\u2019re orbiting above the problem.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nOn the fourth day after onset, twenty people were dead and eighty were dying. One group went into the auxiliary dome that held the hydroponics bays, barricaded the connecting corridor, and sent a message that they would kill anyone who tried to join them. Their next message was a despairing voice saying, \u201cThe plague is here.\u201d Then silence.\n<\/p>\n \nThe morning of the seventh day, we lost both medtechs. Susan walked with those bodies to the incinerator. Later, she came to the lab and stood by the door. \u201cA long time ago, I read a story about how a doctor in the early twentieth century treated pneumonia before antibiotics. He\u2019d take the patient\u2019s temperature, pat them on the shoulder, speak in a soothing tone, and listen to them talk while he hoped nature\u2019s healing power would work. That\u2019s what I\u2019ve been doing, and that\u2019s what you\u2019ll have to do.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m a research biologist, not a doctor.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThere\u2019ll be no one else.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI took a few steps toward her. Across the dark skin of her cheeks, the rash wrote its story of coming death. What was there to say but \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI have a few more hours, and I\u2019m going to use them.\u201d She worked with her patients until finally she called me to come. She died the next day.\n<\/p>\n \nI stripped off the germ proof clothing. It hadn\u2019t helped Susan or the medtechs. Each morning I went around the beds dispensing comfort and noting who was ready for cremation. Each afternoon Simpson told me how hard they were working to find an answer. No answer came. Soon every other living colonist was infected. There were fourteen patients, then eleven, then seven, then three, then none.\n<\/p>\n \nI asked Simpson why I was still alive.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIn almost every epidemic, some people don\u2019t succumb–like the hemorrhagic fever epidemics early in the last century. Some develop the disease but recover. Others don\u2019t get sick at all. Everyone\u2019s immune system is different. Usually the survival percentage isn\u2019t this small.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019ll have to abandon the base. I can\u2019t fly the shuttle by myself. Will you send one down for me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nSimpson disappeared, and the screen showed his captain. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Scott, but we can\u2019t do that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo how are you going to get me back?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cScott, we don\u2019t understand this plague. You may be a carrier. I can\u2019t risk my crew.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI can\u2019t stay down here!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe sent down rations for 147 people. Enough of the hydroponics farm and power plant were set up to let one person survive indefinitely.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nIndefinitely! \u201cDo you have any idea when you can bring me aboard?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe wouldn\u2019t look directly at the screen. \u201cWe don\u2019t have enough fuel and supplies to remain in orbit any longer.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo you\u2019re going to leave me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe have no choice but to return to Mars now. Another mission will be out here in about a year\u2014maybe then.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cA year alone!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019ll be in radio contact, and so will Mars Base. You have the AI-1070 and enough of an entertainment library to keep you occupied forever. I\u2019m sorry, Scott.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe communicator screen went dark. The screen that displayed the view from an external telescope showed the Byrd<\/em>, a glowing orb that burned brighter as it fired its engines to escape orbit then gradually grew smaller and dimmer until it looked like just another of the cold unfeeling stars.\n<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \nAs the Captain said, I could talk to the AI. \u201c1070, now what?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYour next scheduled activity is gravity replacement exercises.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat\u2019s the point of that, if I\u2019m stuck here forever?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cExercise is needed to keep your muscles from atrophying.\u201d Its voice lacked any inflection, like the humming of an electric motor.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAm I going to die here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe answer to that question is uncertain, but your last medical exam reveals no current life-threatening condition.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThat was true. The plague hadn\u2019t killed me. But it hadn\u2019t made me stronger.\n<\/p>\n \nThere wasn\u2019t much to do. The passage to the auxiliary dome had to be opened and the five bodies there cremated in that dome\u2019s plasma incinerator. I\u2019d expected more bodies, because eleven people had hidden with that group. Maybe the last victims cremated the first victims. I said no prayers over the dead, no one was listening. After the last cremation, I heard a sound like running feet. A delusion? Alien monsters haunted my dreams.\n<\/p>\n \nThe water we had drawn from Ganymede\u2019s underground sea showed no signs of microbial life. Once that would have been a disappointment, but now it was a relief. My drill hadn\u2019t brought up the plague. Surprisingly nothing else was in the water\u2014it was as pure as if it had been distilled.\n<\/p>\n \nSimpson contacted me every day on the communicator, but we didn\u2019t have much to talk about. On the third day, he arranged contact with two old friends of mine on Mars Base. We couldn\u2019t really talk much. It took over a half hour for my messages to go to them and another half hour for their response to get to me. Still, seeing their faces, even if only for a minute, was great, and later they sent texts with all the gossip from my old station.\n<\/p>\n \nNext day the off-world communicator failed. The 1070 ran system diagnostics and found that two components had burnt out due to \u201cunexplained overload.\u201d It told me what replacement parts were needed and where they were in the parts inventory shed. That shed had been a picture of order, with shelves neatly stacked with boxes in a set order. Now it was a picture of chaos. Boxes were strewn all over the floor, as if someone gone mad from the plague had ripped the place apart. The box with the needed parts wasn\u2019t there. My hands shook as I opened each box in the desperate hope that the parts had been mislabeled. They hadn\u2019t been.\n<\/p>\n \nMy only hope was the AI. \u201c1070, how can the off-world communicator be fixed without those parts.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThose parts are required for the repair\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCan replacements for those parts be made on Ganymede?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTheir manufacture is complex and requires equipment found only on Earth.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThere had to be another answer. \u201cHow about rigging a substitute or a bypass?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThose parts are required for any transmissions of over 18,000 kilometers.\u201d In other words, anything more distant than an orbiting ship.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou\u2019re supposed to be so smart, find me an alternative.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cReceiving replacement parts from Earth is the only alternative.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nNo one would be near here for a year. If then. Because my transmissions had ceased, they\u2019d think I was dead. The next mission was planned to explore other moons, and they might not come close enough for my com.\n<\/p>\n \nDeveloping a routine helped me keep my head together. Each day started with breakfast, then gravity replacement exercises. The rows of unused equipment in the gym made me feel sad and empty.\n<\/p>\n \nThen I would walk around the circumference of the main dome, breathe the odorless processed air, and look out at the frozen wastes of Ganymede. The light-colored surface was full of long deep grooves that made a pattern like a spider\u2019s web.\n<\/p>\n \nOften on those walks I would say something aloud, some comment on the scenery or a random thought. Talking to yourself isn\u2019t a good sign, but I told myself it was just to hear a human voice.\n<\/p>\n \nSometimes it seemed someone was watching me. People often claim they can sense if someone is watching them, glance detection they call it. But glance detection is a silly idea, like the Ganymede curse.\n<\/p>\n \nAfter lunch, reading an e-book would distract me for a while. Sometimes I\u2019d walk through the empty streets and silent buildings of the half-built colony, but that was usually too depressing. Then came dinner, with the AI for company.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201c1070, what do AI\u2019s do for fun?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cRequest not understood.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cArtificial intelligence has its limits, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDo you want to access the instruction module?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo. What game would you like to play?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cRequest not understood.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019ll pick.\u201d An hour or two of computer games, a movie, sleep. Next day it began all over.\n<\/p>\n \nAfter about a month, the AI actually started a conversation. \u201cYou should consider the causes of the plague. Your never getting sick may be a clue. Perhaps the plague started when a pathogen you brought to Ganymede mutated. You were immune because you had antibodies to it. You served as a carrier.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThat couldn\u2019t be. \u201cLab tests never found any Earth germ. The plague probably was here when we arrived. Some oxygen was on Ganymede\u2019s surface. Microscopic life could have been here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cExtensive tests found no such life.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThey had no experience with the organism. If you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re looking for, you won\u2019t find it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou may not find it. The pathogen wasn\u2019t on the surface. Do you think it\u2019s something you brought up with the drill? The plague started just after you took the first sample, didn\u2019t it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe samples were sealed.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSeals often aren\u2019t perfect, or microbes could migrate up the bore hole. Wasn\u2019t the first case on the drilling crew?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTests showed no microbial life in the samples. Besides I was closer to the samples than anyone, and I didn\u2019t get sick.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAs you said, tests could miss an organism that humans had no experience with. Do you ever ask yourself why you didn\u2019t get sick?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cConstantly. I\u2019m going to bed now.\u201d To bed and not to sleep as questions about the plague ran through my head.\n<\/p>\n \nThe feeling of being watched grew, as did the noises. Once I tripped over an abandoned piece of machinery and thought I heard someone laughing. My heart raced, and it was hard to breathe. Was I losing my mind?\n<\/p>\n \nA week later, I used the equipment in sick bay for my scheduled medical check. The AI gave me the results.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo infection has been detected, but you are under significant stress. A major concern is the long-term effects of solitude. Prisoners kept in solitary confinement for a long time sometimes develop a syndrome characterized by hallucinations and difficulties in thinking, concentration, and memory. You have been alone now for over 5 weeks\u2014long enough for onset of the syndrome. The high stress you were under previously increases your risk.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe AI had changed from using few words to being voluble, which made me like it even less. \u201cHow do you treat that syndrome?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe only way to stop the condition from worsening is returning the prisoner to the companionship of others. The effects, however, are often irreversible.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMadness might embrace me and never let me go. A cold sweat covered my body.\n<\/p>\n \n \nThe next day\u2019s walk took me into the auxiliary dome. A faint noise came from behind one of the buildings. And there in the shadows stood a short woman with brown eyes and raven black hair to her shoulders. Her jeans and blue cotton work shirt hung loosely on her, as if she had just lost weight. Her face was pale and had a number of scabs. I knew that face. \u201cYou\u2019re Vera, Vera Turner.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe took a few steps back, screamed, \u201cDon\u2019t come near me!\u201d, and disappeared around a corner.\n<\/p>\n \nMy hands shook. I might have finally found what I so desperately wanted, a companion. Searching for her would be fruitless, there were so many places to hide that she would only be found if she wanted to be. Instead I made a colony-wide announcement. \u201cVera, I\u2019m Scott Jensen. Come to the communications center, please?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nNothing but silence\u2014had I really seen her? Maybe the AI could help. \u201c1070, how many life forms are there in the colony?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe scanning system failed. The required replacement parts are not available.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI thought I saw a woman. Is she real?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe available data do not answer that question, but as noted in your physical, you are at risk for hallucinations.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nAll night I wondered if I would see her again. Then on my morning walk, there she was\u2014standing by the outer wall of the colony staring at Ganymede\u2019s surface. She must have heard my footsteps. \u201cDon\u2019t come any nearer!\u201d Her voice shook, maybe because of fear.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHow did you survive?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOur department head isolated us in the auxiliary dome, but we got sick anyway. I was delirious for days. Then I woke and found the others all dead. Is anyone else here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019re the only ones. Why didn\u2019t you say something to me before?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou might have the plague.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI don\u2019t. It\u2019s been weeks, and I don\u2019t have any symptoms.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy are you still here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe Byrd<\/em> abandoned me\u2014abandoned us. They were afraid I was a carrier.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMaybe you are.\u201d In an instant she was gone.\n<\/p>\n \nFinding Vera seemed like a dream come true\u2014too much like a dream come true. Back in the communications center, the questions came. Why had she and she alone recovered from the plague? The doctor said that usually some got sick but survived. Her recovery was possible, as my immunity was possible. When she found herself alone, why hadn\u2019t she come into the main dome? Maybe because she feared the plague, as she said.\n<\/p>\n \nOr she could be a delusion. What was more likely, that she spent over a month in hiding, or that loneliness had taken my mind? My mouth went dry and my hands shook.\n<\/p>\n \nAt dinner time, I made another announcement. \u201cVera, if the plague were going to kill us, it would have. It\u2019s safe now. Please come to the communications center. We can eat together.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe replied over the com. \u201cToo dangerous.\u201d Nothing else. I ate alone.\n<\/p>\n \nI tried again. \u201cTonight let\u2019s watch a movie in the main hall. I could sit in the front, and you could sit in the back.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe said nothing for a moment, then \u201cOK.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cGreat, see you there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nWould she come? I waited as nervous as a high school kid asking for his first date, but finally she stood in the back of the hall. \u201cWhat are you watching?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhatever you want.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe shrugged. \u201cYour pick.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMusicals are great, especially 21st century Bollywood. How about Bhaji\u2019s Wedding?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cFine.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEven though, or maybe because, it was over 100 years old, the movie provided a welcome escape. At the end, she got up to go. \u201cScott, great movie.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI called out to her, \u201cWait. Join me for breakfast tomorrow?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe shook her head no.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cExercises? We could use different ends of the gym?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot large enough, maybe you\u2019re a carrier.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe disappeared out the door. She blamed me for the plague. So did the 1070. Were they right?\n<\/p>\n \nOn my next morning walk, she appeared again. I needed more contact. \u201cVera, we\u2019re the only two people out here. We should get to know each other.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat do you want to know?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy did you come to Ganymede?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLike you, Earth wasn\u2019t enough for me. That was stupid of us, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo, don\u2019t think that. The drive to explore is part of being human.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAfter incinerating all those bodies, you still think you belong on Ganymede?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat is life without risks?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLonger. But if you think exploring is so important, there\u2019s no way to keep you away.\u201d Then she was gone, as quick as a ghost.\n<\/p>\n \nAfter dinner, I got on the public address system again and asked her to join me for another movie. She appeared in the back of the hall. \u201cYou can pick what we see tonight.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTime for another musical, this time 20th century Hollywood. For a while, the elegance of Top Hat blotted out all worries. As the last credit scrolled across the screen, Vera stayed in the back of the hall. \u201cYou really like old musicals.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMy favorites. What are your favorites?\u201d She fled out the door, and I was alone.\n<\/p>\n \nNext morning, Vera was in the same place as the day before. Her pallor was gone, and the last scabs had fallen from her face. She held up a hand to stop me about 10 feet away, but we could talk.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTell me about your life before Ganymede.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHer face was expressionless. \u201cStudied hydroponics, signed up for an adventure. How about you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI went on and on, telling all about my schooling, my first jobs as an Earth-bound biologist, my work at Mars base, and my eventual selection for the Ganymede colony. I finally realized I\u2019d gone on too long. \u201cVera tell me more about yourself?\u201d She shook her head and ran off again.\n<\/p>\n \nEven from a distance she looked so lovely. Did that prove she was a delusion? Wouldn\u2019t the sores have left scars on a real person? There was no way to tell, because there were no other survivors to compare her to. Having some company was so much nicer than loneliness that I tried to ignore my doubts\u2014tried and failed.\n<\/p>\n \nThat night, I asked Vera to join me and watch Jupiter rise. I stood alone, as the planet slowly climbed into the sky above the dome. Then came her voice, soft and lilting. \u201cWonderful, isn\u2019t it? The Red Spot looks like a sea of fire.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nVera stood about 10 feet away. Jupiter\u2019s reflected light lit her face. \u201cYou\u2019re beautiful.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThanks, I guess.\u201d She paused for a minute. \u201cDid you have a girlfriend back on Earth, or Mars maybe?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo, not in a relationship with anyone. How about you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo one serious. Were you ever in a relationship?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTelling this story still hurt. \u201cMy wife died when that rocket misfired on Mars Base.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDidn\u2019t that make you want to go back to Earth?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo, it made me more determined than ever to stay out here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe shrugged her shoulders. \u201cPeople are hard to understand.\u201d Then she was gone like a dream when you awaken.\n<\/p>\n \nOver the next few days, we watched more movies, and we talked. She always kept me at a distance, but I began to feel affection for her, like falling in love. Was that only because there was no one else? How could I be sure my feelings were real? I wasn\u2019t even sure she was real. Every night doubt, not sleep, filled my mind. Was she my protector from madness, or madness?\n<\/p>\n \nI tried the AI again. \u201c1070, how can I tell if Vera Turner is real or a delusion?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSeek a third party to confirm or deny what you see.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe AI was just full of great worthless advice. \u201cWhat if no third party is available?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOne possibility would be if she does things that no one else could do\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cShe does things around the colony, mostly she maintains the hydroponics bays.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCould you have done those things?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSure.\u201d We were all cross trained for various jobs.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cInsufficient. Perhaps you did them and deluded yourself into thinking that she had. Or perhaps you deluded yourself into thinking they had been done. Were they dramatic changes, ones that had a large effect on you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo, really for most of them there\u2019s only her word that they happened.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPhilosophers suggest the first thing you can be sure of is your own existence. You must exist to ask if something is a delusion. One possibility would be to create a situation where if she is a delusion, you don\u2019t exist.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nSuddenly my throat was dry, and my voice quavered. \u201cPlease explain.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPut yourself in a life-threatening situation, where only she can rescue you. If you remain alive, she is real. The risks of this approach are obvious. But every explorer knows learning the truth is worth risking your life.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI could do that. Every colonist had a space suit and dangling from its front was a cord with a safety key at the end. You could enter an airlock from outside only if someone put a safety key into a slot on the outer door or into a slot in the inner door. To ensure that a software glitch could never cause a breach in the dome, the AI could not open an airlock door.\n<\/p>\n \nIf I went outside the dome without a key, I could return only if someone inside the dome let me in. If Vera did that, it would prove that she was real. If she didn\u2019t, I would use up my suit\u2019s air supply and suffocate.\n<\/p>\n \nIf I couldn\u2019t trust my own mind, even such an agonizing death didn\u2019t seem so bad. The next morning, I called Vera on the com, \u201cI\u2019m going outside to collect surface samples. If I have a problem, I\u2019ll call you on the suit\u2019s com, and you can let me back in.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOK.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe door to the airlock slowly opened. Quickly, before fear could change my mind, I detached the key from my suit, dropped it on the ground, and went into the airlock. The inner door closed, the airlock depressurized, and the outer door opened. After a few steps, the outer door automatically closed behind me. I stood alone outside the dome\u2019s protection.\n<\/p>\n \nThe AI\u2019s voice came over my com. \u201cI have detected your safety key inside the dome in front of the airlock. Are you in distress?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nWhat was the answer? I called Vera. \u201cMy safety key fell off my suit. Could you let me back in?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cComing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nSuddenly a small figure appeared standing inside the dome, not Vera, not human. It was 4 feet tall with a tapering body, no discernable neck, hairless and faceless. Two long arms each ended in a webbed thing with claws. Its flesh was the shiny white of a dead fish floating on the surface of a pond. \u201cSmall and horrible,\u201d those were the commander\u2019s words, words taken as delirium.\n<\/p>\n \nIts voice was high and sharp. \u201cVera Turner was only a hologram. But we\u2019re real. The caverns surrounding the underground sea are our home. A home you drilled a hole in.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy not contact us, find a way to live with us?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTwo sentient races in the same solar system? We\u2019ve never seen that work.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo you caused the plague.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAfter we made your probes crash, we learned human biology from the bodies. We developed a way to eliminate most of your colony, but you were left.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy not just kill me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nIt waved a webbed clawed hand. The gesture looked dismissive\u2014no doubt it was meant to be. \u201cUnless your death looked like an accident, or suicide, the next mission would realize we were here. Ridding the system of your species requires help from our home planet, our existence must be secret until it arrives.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou got to the AI, didn\u2019t you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYour primitive AI was easy to reprogram. Guilt didn\u2019t work, but your fear of madness gave us another way. Goodbye Scott.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nIt was gone. As the air ran out, I turned on my suit\u2019s voice recorder and told this story. Maybe they\u2019ll find it and erase it. Maybe the next mission will find it and warn Earth. I\u2019ll never know. A minute of air is left, a minute to look at the beauties of Jupiter and the red spot, the color of fire and cold as hell.\n<\/p>\n Henry McFarland is an economist and part time short story writer. He has published stories in Brain Games: Stories to Astonish, and in After Dinner Conversation, the Starship Sofa podcast, Andromeda Spaceways, and Every Day Fiction.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" At first the disease seemed minor, no reason for fear. Cooper, the drilling superintendent, checked some dials and smiled. \u201cWe\u2019ve put your straw in Ganymede. Take a drink.\u201d Next to the pump, clear water from the moon\u2019s underground sea flowed into the sample containers. \u201cTesting before drinking, I want to see what\u2019s in it first.\u201d …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":107355,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,20083],"tags":[20084],"class_list":["post-138034","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-38-winter-2021","tag-the-colored-lens-38-winter-2021","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/138034","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/107355"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=138034"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/138034\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":138035,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/138034\/revisions\/138035"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=138034"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=138034"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=138034"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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