The following is a short story I wrote last year for my fiction writing class. It's definitely my favorite complete story, and one I'd like to write a sequel to. I hope you enjoy it!
Contact
Tom Howley
The sun felt warm and relaxing. Obvious? Yes. Still, it should’ve brought some comfort, a bit of familiarity in an entirely unfamiliar landscape. Colonel Kara Wilson knew it wasn’t really the sun that was keeping her warm. Her suit took care of that for her. Even so, she allowed herself, for just a moment, to imagine a day on the beach. The freedom to run along the shoreline, the cool water gently lapping at her heels. The tan she’d develop the longer she stayed under the sun. She imagined the smell of the saltwater, and the boardwalk businesses offering overpriced foods and trinkets. Colonel Wilson loved the beach. She wasn’t deluding herself, though. Right now, she was further away from any beach than anyone at any point in history. Neither the sun nor the thoughts of the ocean gave her any comfort here.
No, Kara Wilson and her team were in a desert. A vast, lifeless waste. Water was scarce, and sandstorms were far too frequent for her liking, and were completely incapacitating. Sensors and radio communications would cut out, leaving anyone caught in them blind and deaf. Anyone who didn’t have advanced training would’ve surely died out here, but the team was filled with specialists, masters of their professions. There were 16 on the ground, including Colonel Wilson. Elite soldiers and scientists from different fields. There were also four pilots who were assisting from the sky, bringing the total to 20. Overall, they were a highly advanced team, working together with a singular purpose. Despite the conditions, everyone had been happy to be here. Until this morning, the team thought the sandstorms were the worst part. Now they weren’t so sure.
Since the dawn of civilization, humanity has looked up at the night sky, yearning to explore the black depths of the cosmos. Mars had always been thought of as a stepping stone on that journey, just another milestone to surpass in pursuit of a much grander goal. For Colonel Wilson’s team, however, Mars was the goal. It was a new frontier, entirely unexplored. In July 1969, humanity celebrated when Neil Armstrong jumped from Apollo 11’s lunar lander and touched down on the moon. The U.S. had beaten the Soviets, a much-needed win in the Space Race after the USSR put Yuri Gagarin in orbit around the Earth, the first man in space. Imagining the reaction back home when NASA announced the successful landing of the Planetary Expedition Team, or the PET, had brought a smile to the Colonel’s face every day since liftoff six years before. But now, face to face with the most shocking discovery made on this trip, she wasn’t smiling. She was simply filled with dread.
Until minutes ago, the journey had found a typical level of success. Beyond the initial amazement of being the first ones to touch down on an alien world, the PET had a job to do. The team’s cartographers mapped out sections of the land in fine detail. Rock samples and ice cores were collected for carbon dating and to test plant life viability on the planet, though the Colonel didn’t know much about that. She had been more interested in hunting the elusive “Martian Life Forms,” that had been the monstrous villains in so many science fiction stories. As far as Martians were concerned, the team found nothing, but the Colonel hadn’t given up hope. The PET’s supplies would last for another three weeks before they had to return to the shuttle, the first-of-its-kind Olympia carrier, which was waiting in orbit around the red planet. After that, they'd start the long journey back home.
The Colonel's hopes hadn’t diminished. In fact, she’d started the day more excited for long patrols and dust-filled boots than any other since she’d gotten here. Olympia’s pilots had identified a location that looked like ruins of some kind, so that’s where the PET had gone. If there were ruins there, it would confirm that, at some point in the past, Mars did indeed host alien life.
She had been so eager to find proof of life outside of Earth. But now, that excitement had turned to shock, and an overwhelming sense of foreboding. Colonel Wilson simply couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She had been a soldier her entire adult life. She’d done things that haunted her, and she’d sent friends to their deaths. After 17 years of dedicated service to the United States Marine Corps, she thought nothing could surprise her. Yet, there it was, right in front of her. She didn’t know how it got here or when. Her thoughts of the warm sun and the cool ocean gave her no comfort here. This was, quite simply, the most disturbing thing she had ever seen.
“This… isn’t possible,” said one of the scientists, with a hint of quiet amazement in his voice.
“Why the hell is this here? How long has this been here?!” yelled another. Colonel Wilson had to act fast. She couldn't afford a panic right now.
“Security team, ready up! We have no idea what’s in here, prepare for Contact! Eyes and ears! If you see something, take it down! Science team, lock it down. We're leading this mission now.” she barked out, now on full alert. Her troops fanned out and formed a defensive wall around the scientists, who huddled together.
It didn’t seem real, it shouldn't be real, yet here it was, as real as anything else on Mars’ desolate surface. It sat in front of a large grey building with airlock doors, though the building looked blasted to hell. The building seemed like an entrance to a larger complex. What shocked them was a lone statue, sporting a red paint more vibrant than anything else on the red planet. There was a good layer of dust covering it, but it did nothing to hide the statue’s unmistakable profile: The hammer and sickle of the Soviet Union. On the building itself, there was a sign, worn-out and difficult to read. Марсское командование Союза Советских Социалистических Республик. One of the scientists happened to speak Russian as a second language. Even so, the Colonel hardly needed a translation to understand what this meant.
“It says… Mars Command of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics,” the scientist said, in an unbelieving whisper.
The Colonel felt like she was going to faint. America had lost the Space Race decades ago without even knowing it. Mars was colonized long before NASA had even begun to consider it. As the PET entered the ruined complex, a million questions were running through Colonel Wilson’s mind. How long has this been here? How long was it operational? How advanced is Russian technology?
But there was one question in particular that she dreaded, a question she was likely going to find an answer to inside. The cracked walls and ruined hallways only worsened her fears. She wondered if the PET would be going home after all. She wondered if they’d be able to leave this place. They walked through the dark, unlit halls with rifles at the ready, moving at a snail’s pace.
Colonel Kara Wilson felt as if the complex was swallowing them up, never to be seen again. She didn’t want to know what lay at the heart of this empty shell. Off in the distance, she thought she heard old Soviet music echoing through the empty halls, but it was warped, distorted. Even as these thoughts and many more ran through her head, there was still that one little question, which made her want to turn around and run away.
Why did they abandon this place, and why did they cover it up?
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