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A Matter of Time
The red dust swirled around me, battering me, as if each speck was representing one of the lives I had been responsible for ending. I returned to my ship, out of the dust, but still battered by my conscience. I tried to tell myself that there was no way I could have known, that it wasn’t my fault, but I’d seen my life’s work fall apart. I’d seen them all burn, an entire planet wiped out because of me.
It was twenty years ago to the day since I first landed on the red planet, leader of a team of six, the first humans on Mars. The Rovers had given as much information as they were ever going to be able, we needed people on the surface to see what was truly there, trying to follow up the leads our mechanical predecessors had given us. The signs were all there that the planet was capable of sustaining life, that there possibly had been life, but discovering what had become of it, that was our job.
Our first discovery on the red planet was a strange one, nothing of Martian origin that was for sure, but what appeared to be the remains of some kind of space craft. Most of it was buried beneath the ground, but it seemed too modern to have been there long enough to be so covered. We contacted Control, who were unable to trace the craft as any of those registered missing from the early days of the Mars Rovers.
It was soon forgotten when Eva Bestov, the only woman on the team, called in to report that she had discovered what appeared to be some kind of dwelling. In the caves of Sisyphi Montes she found clear signs that life had once existed there, with carved openings in the rock, and carefully constructed tunnels that let light in at various times of the day. I transferred all of the team to the area, venturing further in to see what else we could find. Control were excited, but urged caution, didn’t want us to wander into the unknown. They even suggested returning to the ship and leaving this site for the next party who would be prepared to better explore such areas, but none of us listened, we were at the scene of the greatest discovery of all, evidence of intelligent life on another planet.
The further we travelled, the more amazed we were. We discovered an ingenious series of pipes for irrigation from the former sea above. We found tools, some of which resembled hammers, knives and other such things so often symbolic of early intelligent life. But the true wonder was in the paintings. In a huge cavern hollowed out of a glistening rock the like of which we’d never seen before were the tales of this race. Eerie humanoid figures in various poses, all of which seemed so familiar to us. Scenes depicting the water flowing through the caves, scenes that appeared to depict the hunting of other strange beasts, scenes of young and old. These Martians were so like us, and these painting so like those by Early Man on the cave walls of Earth so many years ago, but we had survived and they had not.
I continued to look at the paintings, until I saw one that caused my jaw to drop, painfully crashing against the bottom of my helmet. It was one of us, a spaceman, if you like, accurately drawn, US flag on the arm and all. Around him scenes of devastation, Martians young and old captured in flame. But what did it mean? No astronaut had ever visited Mars before, how could they know us?
We searched further, taking photographs and collecting samples. Control were already planning a further visit to take this section to pieces to discover all that had happened, and they commanded us to search nearby areas to see if these signs of life were wide-spread. All around Sisyphi Montes we found more, including further paintings, but nothing quite as strange as the astronaut. The further we moved from the area, the less we found, if there was any other evidence of former life on this planet, it was well hidden
With the mission over, and our return to Earth safely made, the samples went to Base for further analysis. From them we were able to date the paintings, shocked to find them under one hundred years old. The tests were carried out time and again, always coming back with similar results, until we were certain of their accuracy.
I returned to Mars half a dozen times after this, searching different parts of the planet, but always coming back to the caves of Sisyphi Montes, always back to the astronaut they should have known nothing about. We discovered the underground lakes that the Martians had used, their sources of paint, and the a number of signs to suggest there was less intelligent life on the planet too at one time. This was backed up by the cave paintings showing trhe Martians hunting what looked like some kind of mammal.
With further studies we managed to gather a crude idea of how they lived and their levels of intelligence, we were certain that they were a peaceful race. We longed to bring them back, to give them life, to have an allegiance on our neighbouring planet. From the samples we’d taken we searched desperately for some kind of DNA, or something similar, hoping to use it to clone a creature, but our search was fruitless.
It was in the very same year though, that Control had it’s first breakthrough in time travel. Setting up a station on the moon, a manned vessel was able to leave himself a message before he arrived - complicated stuff that we didn’t dare reveal on Earth, too worried by possible consequence. However, on Mars, there was nothing to lose. There was no life, and if by going back we could save it, then or even learn more about it, then that would be incredible.
That was my mission, I insisted on it. I’d been to Mars more often than anyone, I’d studied all of the evidence on our Martian friends, I wanted to be the one that went back to a time in which they lived. The size of the time travel craft meant I had to travel alone, and it would take a considerable amount of time to travel so far back too. I had to go through a lengthy preparation process to help me get used to the isolation, because as soon as I started to travel back in time, I’d lose all contact with Control.
I spent the many months preparing myself to meet with the Martians, thinking about what I’d do when I first saw one, what I could teach them, and they teach me. Most of all I wondered what had wiped them out. All of our visits had given us nothing to go on, but I was prepared to do whatever it took to stop it.
Finally the dials indicated that I’d travelled back far enough and I directed the ship towards Sisyphi Montes. For a moment I was confused, none of the equipment we’d left was present, and the landing site seemed completely untouched - then I realised that it was. It would be another thirty years or so before I would put my foot on this dusty land for the first time. Even the old wreckage we’d first seen had yet to arrive.
I travelled towards the caves, the closer I got, the more excited I became, wanting to see the Martians, wanting to find a way for them to live. I entered the cave, and could hear the sound of moving water. Even though the land above appeared dry they had somehow managed to keep a water flow within the caves from the underground lakes. Amazed by hearing their incredible ingenuity in action, I rushed further in. As I turned a corner, I saw one for the first time. I was shocked by just how like us they were. Initially I saw her as a little girl, until my brain accepted the true image my eyes were seeing. Like us she had two arms and two legs, and these were similar in proportion, yet she was completely hairless, and her skin, if you could call it that, appeared to be tough.
Her black eyes were beautiful, and for a moment I was lost in them. She too appeared to be lost, unable to move, shocked by seeing me. Of course, I’d planned to meet them, they had no idea I was coming, she must have been scared. I reached a hand out to her, but no sooner did I touch her she ran away, a high pitched screech emanating from her tiny mouth. I followed until I found myself in a large open area, with light pouring in from a hole above. Other Martians approached the girl, but as she touched them, they too began to scream. Mayhem spread as the Martians began to flee, desperately trying not to touch each other.
I followed down the tunnels, trying to make peaceful gestures at any that would look at me and soon enough found myself back by the cave paintings. There it was, the paint still wet, the picture of the astronaut. An older Martian stood by it, a delicate brush in his hand. He continued to paint, drawing a number of Martians, young and old. Over the top of these he splashed on oranges and reds, as if they were consumed by flame.
As he finished painting the first girl that I saw approached him. He opened his arms to welcome her, and she stopped screaming. As he held her she burst into flame. Suddenly I understood the painting, the final chapter in their history. The astronaut who brought their destruction. All around me Martians were either screaming or bursting into flame, unable to avoid the evil I’d brought amongst them. Once the fire had come, the whole process seemed to speed up. Those that had earlier appeared to be fine now screaming, as if the terror had become airborne. Within minutes they had all fallen in flame, victims of a fatal reaction to me.
I made the trek back here to my ship, contemplating a return to Earth. How can I go back though, knowing what I’ve done? How can I go back having killed the only life on Mars? There’s something else, the wreckage I saw twenty years ago when I first landed here, it’s here now, it’s this ship I now sit in. I should suffer the same fate as the others on this planet. It’s the only thing I can do. Fire up the engine and let the pressure build, if I don’t release it, it’ll only be a matter of time before I get what I deserve.
The red dust swirled around me, battering me, as if each speck was representing one of the lives I had been responsible for ending. I returned to my ship, out of the dust, but still battered by my conscience. I tried to tell myself that there was no way I could have known, that it wasn’t my fault, but I’d seen my life’s work fall apart. I’d seen them all burn, an entire planet wiped out because of me.
It was twenty years ago to the day since I first landed on the red planet, leader of a team of six, the first humans on Mars. The Rovers had given as much information as they were ever going to be able, we needed people on the surface to see what was truly there, trying to follow up the leads our mechanical predecessors had given us. The signs were all there that the planet was capable of sustaining life, that there possibly had been life, but discovering what had become of it, that was our job.
Our first discovery on the red planet was a strange one, nothing of Martian origin that was for sure, but what appeared to be the remains of some kind of space craft. Most of it was buried beneath the ground, but it seemed too modern to have been there long enough to be so covered. We contacted Control, who were unable to trace the craft as any of those registered missing from the early days of the Mars Rovers.
It was soon forgotten when Eva Bestov, the only woman on the team, called in to report that she had discovered what appeared to be some kind of dwelling. In the caves of Sisyphi Montes she found clear signs that life had once existed there, with carved openings in the rock, and carefully constructed tunnels that let light in at various times of the day. I transferred all of the team to the area, venturing further in to see what else we could find. Control were excited, but urged caution, didn’t want us to wander into the unknown. They even suggested returning to the ship and leaving this site for the next party who would be prepared to better explore such areas, but none of us listened, we were at the scene of the greatest discovery of all, evidence of intelligent life on another planet.
The further we travelled, the more amazed we were. We discovered an ingenious series of pipes for irrigation from the former sea above. We found tools, some of which resembled hammers, knives and other such things so often symbolic of early intelligent life. But the true wonder was in the paintings. In a huge cavern hollowed out of a glistening rock the like of which we’d never seen before were the tales of this race. Eerie humanoid figures in various poses, all of which seemed so familiar to us. Scenes depicting the water flowing through the caves, scenes that appeared to depict the hunting of other strange beasts, scenes of young and old. These Martians were so like us, and these painting so like those by Early Man on the cave walls of Earth so many years ago, but we had survived and they had not.
I continued to look at the paintings, until I saw one that caused my jaw to drop, painfully crashing against the bottom of my helmet. It was one of us, a spaceman, if you like, accurately drawn, US flag on the arm and all. Around him scenes of devastation, Martians young and old captured in flame. But what did it mean? No astronaut had ever visited Mars before, how could they know us?
We searched further, taking photographs and collecting samples. Control were already planning a further visit to take this section to pieces to discover all that had happened, and they commanded us to search nearby areas to see if these signs of life were wide-spread. All around Sisyphi Montes we found more, including further paintings, but nothing quite as strange as the astronaut. The further we moved from the area, the less we found, if there was any other evidence of former life on this planet, it was well hidden
With the mission over, and our return to Earth safely made, the samples went to Base for further analysis. From them we were able to date the paintings, shocked to find them under one hundred years old. The tests were carried out time and again, always coming back with similar results, until we were certain of their accuracy.
I returned to Mars half a dozen times after this, searching different parts of the planet, but always coming back to the caves of Sisyphi Montes, always back to the astronaut they should have known nothing about. We discovered the underground lakes that the Martians had used, their sources of paint, and the a number of signs to suggest there was less intelligent life on the planet too at one time. This was backed up by the cave paintings showing trhe Martians hunting what looked like some kind of mammal.
With further studies we managed to gather a crude idea of how they lived and their levels of intelligence, we were certain that they were a peaceful race. We longed to bring them back, to give them life, to have an allegiance on our neighbouring planet. From the samples we’d taken we searched desperately for some kind of DNA, or something similar, hoping to use it to clone a creature, but our search was fruitless.
It was in the very same year though, that Control had it’s first breakthrough in time travel. Setting up a station on the moon, a manned vessel was able to leave himself a message before he arrived - complicated stuff that we didn’t dare reveal on Earth, too worried by possible consequence. However, on Mars, there was nothing to lose. There was no life, and if by going back we could save it, then or even learn more about it, then that would be incredible.
That was my mission, I insisted on it. I’d been to Mars more often than anyone, I’d studied all of the evidence on our Martian friends, I wanted to be the one that went back to a time in which they lived. The size of the time travel craft meant I had to travel alone, and it would take a considerable amount of time to travel so far back too. I had to go through a lengthy preparation process to help me get used to the isolation, because as soon as I started to travel back in time, I’d lose all contact with Control.
I spent the many months preparing myself to meet with the Martians, thinking about what I’d do when I first saw one, what I could teach them, and they teach me. Most of all I wondered what had wiped them out. All of our visits had given us nothing to go on, but I was prepared to do whatever it took to stop it.
Finally the dials indicated that I’d travelled back far enough and I directed the ship towards Sisyphi Montes. For a moment I was confused, none of the equipment we’d left was present, and the landing site seemed completely untouched - then I realised that it was. It would be another thirty years or so before I would put my foot on this dusty land for the first time. Even the old wreckage we’d first seen had yet to arrive.
I travelled towards the caves, the closer I got, the more excited I became, wanting to see the Martians, wanting to find a way for them to live. I entered the cave, and could hear the sound of moving water. Even though the land above appeared dry they had somehow managed to keep a water flow within the caves from the underground lakes. Amazed by hearing their incredible ingenuity in action, I rushed further in. As I turned a corner, I saw one for the first time. I was shocked by just how like us they were. Initially I saw her as a little girl, until my brain accepted the true image my eyes were seeing. Like us she had two arms and two legs, and these were similar in proportion, yet she was completely hairless, and her skin, if you could call it that, appeared to be tough.
Her black eyes were beautiful, and for a moment I was lost in them. She too appeared to be lost, unable to move, shocked by seeing me. Of course, I’d planned to meet them, they had no idea I was coming, she must have been scared. I reached a hand out to her, but no sooner did I touch her she ran away, a high pitched screech emanating from her tiny mouth. I followed until I found myself in a large open area, with light pouring in from a hole above. Other Martians approached the girl, but as she touched them, they too began to scream. Mayhem spread as the Martians began to flee, desperately trying not to touch each other.
I followed down the tunnels, trying to make peaceful gestures at any that would look at me and soon enough found myself back by the cave paintings. There it was, the paint still wet, the picture of the astronaut. An older Martian stood by it, a delicate brush in his hand. He continued to paint, drawing a number of Martians, young and old. Over the top of these he splashed on oranges and reds, as if they were consumed by flame.
As he finished painting the first girl that I saw approached him. He opened his arms to welcome her, and she stopped screaming. As he held her she burst into flame. Suddenly I understood the painting, the final chapter in their history. The astronaut who brought their destruction. All around me Martians were either screaming or bursting into flame, unable to avoid the evil I’d brought amongst them. Once the fire had come, the whole process seemed to speed up. Those that had earlier appeared to be fine now screaming, as if the terror had become airborne. Within minutes they had all fallen in flame, victims of a fatal reaction to me.
I made the trek back here to my ship, contemplating a return to Earth. How can I go back though, knowing what I’ve done? How can I go back having killed the only life on Mars? There’s something else, the wreckage I saw twenty years ago when I first landed here, it’s here now, it’s this ship I now sit in. I should suffer the same fate as the others on this planet. It’s the only thing I can do. Fire up the engine and let the pressure build, if I don’t release it, it’ll only be a matter of time before I get what I deserve.
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Grix Thraves wrote:
> Great, but can't help but feel you've got more tinkering around in
> your head about this than what we're seeing.. more developed
> beginning and middle, perhaps?
You, Sir, are 100% right.
This has been in my head for a little while now, and there's a much deeper story trying to burst out of it.
I think it might come out better in screenplay form - as it is it's a bloke telling us what happened, starting near the end and filling us in - but because there's so much eluded to, it has the potential to be much more.
Thanks for reading, anyway - that goes for everyone that took the time to. Cheers, I appreciate it.
> Great, but can't help but feel you've got more tinkering around in
> your head about this than what we're seeing.. more developed
> beginning and middle, perhaps?
You, Sir, are 100% right.
This has been in my head for a little while now, and there's a much deeper story trying to burst out of it.
I think it might come out better in screenplay form - as it is it's a bloke telling us what happened, starting near the end and filling us in - but because there's so much eluded to, it has the potential to be much more.
Thanks for reading, anyway - that goes for everyone that took the time to. Cheers, I appreciate it.
Great, but can't help but feel you've got more tinkering around in your head about this than what we're seeing.. more developed beginning and middle, perhaps?
It is the best story i have read in the competition. It deserves to win in my opinion!
Yeah...really enjoyed it
10/10
10/10
Wow! That was a brilliant story, Great imagination, and could be up there for winning this competition. Well done!
Thanks all for reading and taking the time to comment.
You're right FFF, the bursting into flame was a way to cement the flame into the story, though our hero was always going to go up that way.
I'd actually had this story in mind for a while, and thought that 'dust and flame' was a good opportunity to get it written. I'm still not sure if I'm happy with it told in such a way, but I didn't want it's length to spiral out of control as it could have done if too much of it were in the present tense.
You're right FFF, the bursting into flame was a way to cement the flame into the story, though our hero was always going to go up that way.
I'd actually had this story in mind for a while, and thought that 'dust and flame' was a good opportunity to get it written. I'm still not sure if I'm happy with it told in such a way, but I didn't want it's length to spiral out of control as it could have done if too much of it were in the present tense.
Another throughly enjoyable read.
The only thing that caught me was the fact that he only travelled back in time 50 years, when I'd have thought you would have sent him back further.
The only thing that caught me was the fact that he only travelled back in time 50 years, when I'd have thought you would have sent him back further.
He touched her, spread a human disease which made them all burst into flames? :-D
Good story nonetheless. :-)
Good story nonetheless. :-)
The end was easily guessed, but didn't stop me enjoying the build-up at all. The opposite, in fact.
Well written, as expected - easy to read.
Athough the whole 'bursting into flames' lark was a poorly concealed way to shoe-horn the story into the topic. Or so it seemed.
Well written, as expected - easy to read.
Athough the whole 'bursting into flames' lark was a poorly concealed way to shoe-horn the story into the topic. Or so it seemed.
Damn it, write something bad.
Reminded me of an 'Outer Limits' episode, though again I would echo that a little more explanation as to the combustion of the aliens would be good, it did seem a bit too much of a jump from meeting the alien to them all dying.
Reminded me of an 'Outer Limits' episode, though again I would echo that a little more explanation as to the combustion of the aliens would be good, it did seem a bit too much of a jump from meeting the alien to them all dying.
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