The Chronicles of Monster Planet

“Ah?” she shuddered. “Everything's fine.”

She picked up the bracelet and hurried after Sheila to the mess hall. But it made me think. The unbalanced and overly suspicious Russian is one thing, but the extremely preoccupied Chinese astrophysicist is something completely different – I have never seen such strong emotion on her face before. That's something to consider.

“If you're going to the mess hall, I can keep you company,” Anna distracted me from my confused thoughts again.

The mess hall was a fairly large room, which could easily accommodate at least a hundred people. Now it seemed empty. As we entered, I caught several curious looks from a few people sitting there. No wonder, I thought. We are probably the most interesting event in their lives. But, then again, maybe not, recalling what Trevor had said about the local species. It would be interesting to see them. Besides, what are we supposed to do now? Our mission has lost its purpose.

A dark-skinned man, whose appearance evoked thoughts of vegetarian cuisine, came to serve us food. His black eyes with bright whites, which created a stark contrast with his dark skin, shifted from one crew member to another.

“This is our cook, Raheem Khaji,” Dr. Hill said.

“I hope his meals aren’t quite as sour as his face,” another attempt of mine to lighten the mood with a joke, again failed, inevitably triggering Sheila's displeased stare.

Despite expectations, our lunch, dinner, or whatever meal of the day it was, included meat. We had chicken. Just a small portion, accompanied with some sort of boiled grass. In addition, we had porridge and tea, which, judging by the particles floating in it, had been made from the same grass as the side dish. Well, Terra Nova is anything but a gourmet paradise, I thought, picking at the gelatinous puree with a spoon. Anna came over with her tray and took a seat opposite me.

“Do you find our food unusual?”

“Compared to the nutrient solution pumped into my body for the last two hundred years, it's just ambrosia,” I replied and recklessly put a spoonful of the puree in my mouth.

The puree was expectedly tasteless, but it made the girl smile.

“What was the food like back on Earth?” she asked. “I heard there was some sort of a delicacy, oyster. Obviously, I've never tried it.”

“Well, it’s something like a sea worm in a shell. I've never liked oysters, they are highly overrated. I'd rather have a well-done steak with a glass of chilled wine.”

“A worm? Yuck!” Anna looked at me incredulously. “You are kidding, aren't you?”

“No. Why is he following us?” I pointed my spoon at Werner, who stayed at the entrance.

“Trevor probably asked him to keep an eye on you to prevent accidents. You're new to the base and MP.”

“What's MP?”

“You are definitely new here. It's what we call this world. Monster Planet, MP for short.”

“And the locals, what are they like?” I asked, sipping the unexpectedly good tea.

The girl closed up at once.

“Is something wrong?” I was already sorry that I had asked the question. Our relationship with this lovely girl was off to a good start and might blossom into something bigger. Although two hundred years in a capsule could have a negative effect on my body, I thought uneasily.

“They are aggressive, bad,” Anna replied. “They kill us. They must be exterminated.”

“Wow, such thirst for blood!” I pointedly raised my eyebrow in surprise.

“When your friends are murdered, the blood of your enemies seems – how did you put it? – like ambrosia.”

I chose not to say anything. Perhaps she had the right to say that, who knows.

“Are they really intelligent?” I asked instead.

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?”

“They are organized, social, but at the same time incapable of creative thinking. Many of their actions are instinctive, genetically coded, I believe. Like ants. I can't provide more details, I'm not a biologist.”

“But have you seen them?”

“Yes, unfortunately,” a grimace of disgust distorted Anna's pretty features. “I hope never to see them again.”

It was Finn who distracted me from the conversation.

“Max, get up. We have to get together and discuss the situation.”

“Anna, excuse me. It was very nice talking to you,” I said to the girl, standing up, “I hope we'll continue next time?”

“Absolutely,” the girl smiled, leaving her seat.

“You, French folks, just never change,” Finn commented, watching her go. “But we do have a lot to discuss, so let's meet at my place.”

A quarter of an hour later, after a short stay in my own compartment, I arrived at the commander's room. I came second after Boris and perched on the bed. Finn took a stool, while Leonov was sitting on a chair next to him. They looked like conspirators. The Russian astronaut was saying something, but stopped as I entered.

“I think we should present your theory to Max,” the commander told the biologist.

“What theory?” I asked, looking at my crew-mates.

“Boris thinks we haven't left Earth,” John continued.

“An interesting idea,” I remarked, looking at the frowning biologist. “Are there any arguments to support it?”

“Just open your eyes! Does it look like a space base to you?” Leonov rattled on. “And this tall story about new drives just doesn't hold water. Only a naive Asian could fall for such nonsense.”

He was obviously referring to Ji Cheng.

“Well, everything seems logical,” I noted, standing up for our astrophysicist.

“Oh, really?” the biologist threw up his hands, his sunken eyes darting nervously from me to Finn and back again. “I'm telling you, they're doing an experiment on us. Just like the flight to Mars! Do you remember? When they just locked up the crew on Earth.”

“But the participants knew it was staged,” the commander intervened.

“That's it. That's right,” Leonov quickly interrupted him. “They knew it, but we don't. Why? We've got to find an answer to this question. Why are they experimenting on us?”

“I think you're crazy,” I told him bluntly. “Some side effect of the conservation maybe.”

Leonov paused and looked at us. The commander's face showed doubt and pity. It was obvious that he agreed with me completely. The Russian got really worked up.

“I know better! I'm a doctor and a biologist, not you! What is it, do you think?” he asked, raising his hand.

“It's your right hand,” Lisa replied, entering the compartment.

“No,” Boris said after a solemn pause, “This is a bracelet they use to track us and take readings.”

“What's going on?” Lisa asked, perplexed. “Did I miss something?”

“Yep,” I said. “Our learned friend has put forward a conspiracy theory. He believes that there was no flight at all. Instead, we are a part of some experiment on Earth.”

Lisa eyed the biologist suspiciously for a moment, then turned to Finn.

“You know what? I do believe that something is wrong here,” she said.

“And not you alone,” John replied, “which is why we are here. By the way, where's Cheng?

“Powdering her nose maybe. I'll go get her,” Lisa went out.

“Listen, Boris. We readily support your point that this place is weird. But it's quite easy to check your theory. Why don't we…” I stopped mid-sentence, interrupted by a scream from the corridor.

“It's Lisa,” Finn said, as we rushed outside. The door to Cheng's compartment was open. I saw the ubiquitous Werner quickly entering the room. We hurried after him.

Lisa was standing there with her back to us. Cheng was on the bed, dead. Her eyes were rolled back, tongue out. Leonov elbowed his way to the body and felt for a pulse.

“She's dead,” he stated dryly. “Undoubtedly strangled, there are traces on her neck,” the biologist turned and looked at us, as if trying to say, “See? I told you.”

Lisa just stood there, her eyes wide with horror, hands pressed to her mouth. I glanced at Werner, but failed to read anything on his stone face. Not a single emotion. Although, maybe there was just a tiny flash of bewilderment. Or maybe I misread the expression. Anyway, his face showed no sympathy, he was absolutely calm. Could he be observing his own doing? I shifted my gaze to his powerful biceps and knobby hands and easily imagined him strangling Ji Cheng.

“That's enough,” John broke the silence. “Werner, take us to Trevor, we want to know what's going on. Boris, please stay here.”

Werner nodded calmly and went out into the corridor. He waited until we left the room, then took us to the base commandant.

Nobody spoke while we walked along the corridor. Anger raged inside me. Who could do this to our astrophysicist and why? At the same time, I had a feeling that everything happening to us was unreal. We didn’t have enough time to get familiar with the situation around us. We did not understand it. The murder was like a bucket of cold water. Cheng. I looked at Werner's broad back. I was growing increasingly convinced that it was this creepy Bosch who killed my crew-mate. Anger was rising along with confidence. But why? Why would he do that?

Soon we reached the compartment door. There was an intercom on the right. Werner pressed the button. Trevor's voice came from the device, he could probably see us via the camera.

“What happened, why are you here?”

“Emergency situation,” Werner replied. “Murder.”

“Come in.”

A pneumatic actuator hissed, the door split in two, disappearing into the wall. We followed Werner into a large office. There was a table and a dozen chairs in the center. Next to the large metal table, there was a small desk made of plastic or wood, supporting two transparent three-dimensional displays. The office was devoid of any decorations. It was obviously used for meetings only. A door opened on the other side of the room and Trevor came in. He was wearing a black sweater and light-colored uniform pants. His face looked worried. Trevor invited us to sit down with a gesture and took a chair at the small table.

“Report,” he looked at Werner.

The latter was about to speak, but John Finn beat him to it.

“Someone killed a member of my crew. We must find out who did it and why. What is going on here?”

Edward Trevor pressed a button and gave an order into the intercom, addressing the security service chief.

“Vincent, you there? Come here now, we have a murder.”

“This is a very unpleasant incident, Mr. Finn,” he continued, looking straight into our commander's eyes. “It has never happened here before. And I want to understand what happened as much as you do. Werner, are you sure this is a murder, not an accident?” Trevor asked.

“Yes. Definitely. She was strangled,” he replied calmly.

“Where were you when it happened? I asked you to help our guests.”

“I was literally five minutes late. Just exchanged a few words with someone. I could not have possibly imagined such a thing happening inside their compartments,” Werner blurted defensively.

Maybe it wasn't him after all, I thought when Vincent Taney came in. He walked forward and sat down on Trevor's right, giving us a gloomy look.

“Tell me everything,” he asked Finn.

“What is there to tell?” the usually phlegmatic Englishman started to steam up. “After lunch, we gathered to discuss the sudden turn in the fate of our expedition and found that Cheng did not show up. She was our astrophysicist.”

“I remember,” Taney replied.

“Lisa,” Finn nodded at Lisa Small, “went to check up on her and found her dead, strangled. We all saw the body. Now it's your turn to tell everything!”

“I don't quite understand…” the head of the security service was confused.

“What is this place and who kills my crew members?”

“Okay, just calm down, please,” Trevor raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Why do you think it's someone from the base?”

"Who else? We were all together.”

“But,” Taney intervened, “when you returned from lunch, you were all alive. And you didn't get together right away, did you? Only after a while? Was anyone around?”

“I was the first to come, and the body had already been found,” Werner said.

“Did you meet anyone in the corridor?” Trevor asked.

“No,” Werner replied.

“So, Captain Finn, it turns out that your crew has to answer some questions,” Taney eyeballed Finn, who fell silent. “Including you.”

“You should include Werner as well,” I ventured. “At least Werner, he might be lying.”

Everyone stopped speaking, engulfed in uneasy thoughts. Silence hung thick over the table. Werner gave me a hostile glance, I responded in kind.

“Why would someone from my crew do it?” Finn wondered.

“We will find out,” Trevor replied. “It seems highly unlikely that in a few hours any of us developed such antipathy toward your astrophysicist as to kill her.”

“Cheng could be murdered to keep something hidden from us,” I rejoined the conversation.

“What might it be?”

“How would I know?” I looked away into the corner, gathered my thoughts and continued. “Some of us believe that we are still on Earth. Where is our lander?”

Trevor and Taney exchanged glances.

“That's a bold statement,” the base commander drawled. “What could have caused such distrust?”

Instead of a reply, meaningful silence followed.

“All right then,” Trevor said and turned one of the three-dimensional displays so that we could see the image. “Have a look. Show the surface,” he ordered.

On the display, which consisted of a multitude of transparent layers, an image started to emerge. Regardless of a view angle, it looked like a window to another world. We saw a gray desert flooded with pale orange light pouring from the sky covered with ragged dirty clouds.

I don't know about the others, but a feeling of hopelessness came over me. It was the first time I realized that I would spend the rest of my life in this desolated place, which inspired no optimism at all. I imagined the ultimate goal of our journey very differently. And I could do nothing but ruefully watch a gust of wind lifting a cloud of dust from the ground and driving it toward the distant horizon.

“It can be a render, like a computer game,” Small spoke for the first time.

Trevor made a grimace, glanced at Taney and attentively regarded everyone at the table.

“Why don't you believe us?”

“There are a lot of strange things here. And Cheng is dead. I'm sorry,” John said. “Your base bears little resemblance to our idea of planetary stations. Of course, many years have supposedly passed, but still…”

“Ah, great!” Trevor leaned back on his chair. “I don't believe in anything before I touch it, right?” he looked at us again. “I'll give you a tour of the surface, if that's what you want. But we will also find the killer, and I think it’s one of yours. Now I'd like to get back to my duties. And I would recommend that you take your part in the life of the base as soon as possible. I know you have just emerged from conservation, but we lack hands to maintain all systems, so any specialist is worth their weight in gold. Taney will interview each of you in turn, please be cooperative.”

“All right,” our captain said, getting up.

We got up as well and silently left the office. Taney stayed with Trevor, and Werner took us back to our rooms. Boris waited in the corridor, nervously pacing back and forth. When he saw us, he rushed to Finn.

“Captain, Dr. Stein and Sheila took Cheng's body to the morgue. I'd like to assist during the autopsy. Could you arrange it with Trevor? According to Dr. Stein, we don't belong to the base staff yet, so a special permission from the superiors is required.”

“I'll see what I can do. “Now please come to my compartment, we need to discuss our deplorable situation.”

We were despondent. Everyone's face expressed grief for Ji Cheng mixed with bewilderment. The captain spoke up.

“I have to ask,” he said after a pause, “if anyone had a personal conflict with Ji.”

“What are you talking about?” Leonov snarled. “We passed the compatibility test.”

“I don't know,” Finn said abruptly. “Everything is possible. A love triangle, for instance,” he looked at Boris and me.

“Then why would you exclude yourself and Lisa?” I retorted angrily.

Finn sighed. Then seated himself on a chair.

“I think it's Werner,” I looked straight into the captain's eyes.

“What about his motive?” he asked.

“Ji saw something she shouldn't have, and she would tell us about it.”

“I agree with Max,” Leonov said.

Finn looked at Lisa. She nodded.

“I'm sure it's not one of us.”

“Fine,” the captain concluded. “Let's accept it as our operational assumption. But she was always with us, what could she see? And it turns out that Lisa and Werner were walking toward her room from both sides of the corridor. Is Werner the prime suspect?”

“Unless someone snuck in earlier,” I said. “There wasn't much time, but just enough to make it through the corridor.”

“What do you think about the base?” Boris asked.

“Trevor showed us the surface on the display and promised a tour. It's not Earth, I'm inclined to believe him.”

“Hopefully, it's true,” the biologist lowered his head, but then raised his gleaming eyes again. “There is something strange here, but I can't nail it down.”

“It's clear enough from Ji Cheng's murder, and we must find out what it is,” Lisa said. “We are going to live here for the rest of our lives, unless a ship from Earth arrives.”

“I think we should have a rest,” Boris said. “Tomorrow I will initiate a thorough physical examination. DC is not a wellness procedure, you know.”

I took a shower and was sitting on my bed mulling over the recent events when somebody knocked on the door.

“It's open,” I replied, thinking that given Cheng's death, it wouldn't hurt to start locking the door.

Unexpectedly, it was Anna.

“Max, that's terrible! Sheila told me about the murder,” she said in a manner much more informal than before. “This kind of thing never happens here.”

“Please sit down,” I offered.

“Have you talked to Trevor?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?“

“He said there would be an investigation,” I shrugged. “He believes it's one of us.”

“It can't be you,” she said adamantly.

“Thanks, but you don't know me well enough.”

“I just see it. I feel people. But your shifty-eyed friend could well be the killer.”

“Leonov? Nah, he wouldn't hurt a fly. So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I'd like to take you with me tomorrow to show the power supply systems of the base. You should get down to work as soon as possible, and being an engineer makes you my subordinate,” she smiled.

“Aye, boss,” her smile made me feel like melting, “but I can't come tomorrow. Leonov is going to torture us with medical tests. If he's satisfied, I will be at your disposal the day after tomorrow.”

“That's quite reasonable,” she said, getting up. “Well then, see you when you are free. Good night.”

I walked her to the door and locked it, because a danger foreseen is a danger half avoided. Then I dropped on the bed and passed out.

Day 2

My sleep was unceremoniously interrupted by the sound of someone smacking their hand on the door, and it took me a while to realize where I was. Luckily, Boris Leonov's voice barking from the corridor brought me back to reality quickly enough.

“Max, John, get up. Sheila is already waiting; they've provided me with a full set of equipment for one day only. Come on, Lisa is already here. We are waiting for you two.”

I valiantly suppressed the urge to pull the blanket over my head and tell the Russian to get lost. Five minutes later I was in the corridor, a minute ahead of the captain. We greeted each other.

“Follow me, you lazybones,” Leonov led us down the corridor.

We took an elevator down to the medical bay again, but not to the compartment where our capsules were. Boris handed me and John over to Sheila's care and nudged Lisa into another room. There were two scan beds against the right wall. Sheila told us to lie down there. She had a disgruntled look again. Maybe it's her natural expression, I thought, making myself comfortable. I knew a guy like that back in college. Everyone thought he was an idiot, because he smiled all the time when he talked. Then we found out that his facial nerves had been damaged in an accident.

Of course, scans were just the beginning, Boris wouldn't stop even for a moment. He rushed back and forth, muttered something under his breath, made us undergo tests, took samples. Dr. Stein came to check on us a couple of times and, having witnessed all the frantic activity, went somewhere about his business shining with content.

Taney visited us once. Obviously, he wanted to ask a few questions about the murder. He just silently stood at the entrance for a couple of minutes, then left without uttering a single word, rightfully considering us too busy at the moment. Leonov kept harassing us on and on. Even during lunch his hovering presence was so annoying that the food stuck in our throats.

In the evening, unexpectedly for all crew members who accepted the fate of endless suffering, he declared, “That will be all for today, I believe.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” John asked ironically, putting on his shoes.

To our dismay, Leonov kept silent for moment, quite seriously trying to recall what he could possibly miss.

“Yes, you can go. I'll check the tests.”

“Let's have dinner,” Finn suggested. “I'm exhausted. I wonder how this maniac keeps on his feet, not to mention his eagerness to check the tests.”

“I can hear everything,” Boris' loud voice commented from the next room. “You see, I just love my job. But you wouldn't understand, would you?”

“It was a joke, right?” John asked.

“In his case, you never know. Come on, I'm sick of this place,” Lisa said.

The three of us headed to the mess hall.

The dinner was not very diverse. I already knew that two floors of the base were occupied with farms: one for chicken and eggs, the other for vegetables. They took water from the borehole, but it was not enough, so the waste water was filtered and used for technical needs. Breathable air was created artificially by means of biotechnologies.

I was listlessly picking at the green mass on my plate and listening to Finn, thinking that it would be nice if the local cook, Raheem, was a yoga instructor – this way he would have nothing to do with me or cooking.

“Today I also plan to discuss our place at the base with Trevor, as well as an excursion to the surface to our lander,” the captain was saying.

“We also need to know how and when Cheng's funeral will be arranged,” Lisa said.

“I think they cremate bodies here, but I'll clarify this question,” Finn answered. “Hey, Max, what are you thinking about?”

“About Cheng, what else?” I dropped my spoon with distaste. “I'm trying to understand the motive. Because that’s most important. I can't let go of the feeling that we all saw something, but couldn't realize its true meaning. We missed it. And she didn't. I keep replaying the events in my mind, but I can't point my finger on anything, except that she often checked her watch. But why? To monitor the flow of time? I don't understand why. She was a physicist, so she could know something that we don't. I have no idea.”

“I'm thinking of something else,” Lisa said. “About justice. It's truly sad how Ji ended up. A person grew, studied, aspired to something, to the stars, dreamed. Then some bastard just cut it all off. And we were powerless, we failed to help her.”

“We'll find the culprit, we will,” Finn said. “I'm going to see Trevor now.”

“I don't know, I'm not so sure we'll find them,” I muttered as the captain was leaving.

Lisa and I got up and went to our rooms. The mood was foul. I wanted to talk to Boris, but his door was locked, he probably hadn't returned from the medical bay yet. Exhausted by the tests, I fell asleep quickly enough, but my sleep was troubled. I dreamed of monsters – green, with huge eyes like black holes. They were stretching their hands with branching fingers to my neck. I knew I had to run, but I couldn't. My leg muscles seemed to have lost all their strength, they wouldn’t respond to my brain's frantic orders urging them to move, my knees trembled and buckled.

Day 3

A knock on the door. I opened my eyes. This was becoming a tradition.

“Who's there?” I asked.