Whispers From the Stars

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But no one mentioned anything about the whispers.

When we first sighted Venta 614, we thought we had discovered paradise. Our Gaia Probe had sent back signals of optimum habitability. A planet, not only similar to the one our ancestors had originally called home, but one flourishing with more nutrients and resources than we could have imagined. It was like a dream, though dreams often reshape themselves into something else entirely.

As our ship approached the thick atmosphere, the whispers began. Bizarre, dissonant mutterings that seemed to hum with a sharp staccato resonance. The Captain had been the first to mention them. Rhaj, our chief navigator, chalked it up to supernal radio waves or synchrotron radiation and the rest of us did our best to ignore it as we drew closer to our planetary bounty.

When finally we landed on the soft, verdant soil of Venta 614, not a one of the crew had been able to maintain a dry eye. The raw beauty of that planet is hard to describe.

Impossible to describe.

From the vantage point of our ship, sprawling mountains towered high into a soft sunrise layered with colors of dew-kissed peach, bright cerise, and sparkling aquamarine. The arboreal flora covering these mountains crawled in strange spiraled patterns and themselves held such vibrant hues of crimson and emerald that at first it hurt my eyes to comprehend the vast and dramatic shades. From the planet floor surrounding us, long bundles of thick, twisting grass grew in haphazard and asymmetrical patches. Even the soil was not so much the dark coffee-brown of Earth, but rather reflected a bronzed mulch.

Paradise, truly. If not for the voices.

"What was that, Officer?"

"Captain?" I asked. "Sorry, but I didn't speak."

Captain Stalachast blinked away a nascent tear from inside the iridescent-white helm of his ECHO-suit and shook his head. "Ah. Must be those damned sounds still. My apologies." He sighed and spread his arms out towards the mountains. "We made it, Latia. We're here. It is more glorious than I could have ever imagined."

I choked back the tears that threatened once more to rise. "Yes, sir. We did. I..." It was all I was able to get out. The Captain understood.

As the rest of the crew stood in awe before the vast planet of Venta 614 and dreamed about the future of our neophyte society, I stood beside Stalachast, unable to speak, and felt only gladness for the sweet serenity of the moment.

"According to my calculations, the rotation of Venta 614 will approach nightfall in 1 hour and 14 minutes." The mechanical voice of the ship's Ai spoke directly into the integrated communication devices embedded in our ECHO-suits. "Moons MIG 6 and IO are each waning crescent. MIG 6 will appear in 58 minutes and IO will appear in 2 hours and 6 minutes."

"Thank you, OCTAVIUS," the Captain replied. Stalachast turned to our crew and smiled, crow's feet creeping into the corners of his eyes. "I am honored to be here beside you all. It has been a long journey. Many of us have left behind those we love. All of us have sacrificed to be here." He stopped, then, to look us each in the eyes. The alien sun cast a glimmering orange light that seemed to scatter like static as it reflected off the Captain's pearlescent suit. My eyes blinked involuntarily in reaction to the odd effect. Stalachast turned and raised a hand to gesture at the land. "There is much more work to be done. Our sacrifices will be worth it. Our adventure begins this day."

Cheers and tearful laughter rose from the crew into the fresh silence of a new planet. The Captain sniffed and spoke again. "Now, who will help me build our home?"

We answered.

OCTAVIUS delivered instructions to the crew for shelter preparations and we all got to work. Hours later, still invigorated by the experience of exploring an unknown world but feeling the effects of our humanity, we entered the titanium dome that would be our base for the next few months and sat at the long altersteel table, a heavy drink in each of our hands.

I won't pretend that I remember much of that night. Only that I was happy, and hopeful, and filled with a naive peace that I had sworn to myself long ago I would not allow myself to feel again.

I should never have broken that promise.

"Latia. Latia, wake up!"

I startled awake at the voice of our Medical Officer, Trina Chen. "What? What happened?" I asked, trying mentally to wipe away the haze of sleep and too much beer. "What's wrong?"

The rest of the crew were still asleep, the previous night's celebrations still coursing through their bloodstream. Before she could answer, I heard it. Trina's neck swiveled to face the source of her concern. A muffled, unsettling noise resounded from the Captain's Quarters.

Laughter. A wild, unfamiliar laughter. In my dreary state, it brought to mind a recording I had heard as a young girl of an animal whose "bark" had resembled a wheezing cackle. My drowse faded at once and a cold twinge ran down the center of my back, bringing a surge of sweat in accompaniment.

As I rose from my cot, Trina asked, "Do you think he's still drunk?"

I shook my head. "I filled the Captain's cups last night. He had complained of a headache and told me he had wanted to keep his wits but did not want to dampen the revelry for the rest of us."

A guttural sob broke the chorus of giggling from behind the Captain's door, but the laughter soon proceeded as before. "I...I'll speak with him," I said, not knowing what else could be said in that moment.

A whisper rose in my mind as I arrived at the door. More of the eerie errant radio waves that we had been experiencing since our arrival. It clouded my focus for a moment and seemed to have affected Stalachast as well, for his chuckling grew loud and untamed. I twisted the handle of the door and entered.

Captain Stalachast lie still, asleep in his bed.

Several moments of disorientation passed as I watched his chest slowly rise and fall. From my earlier senses, I had formed an image in my mind of him sitting up and facing the opposite wall. His position now did not match the place in which I had heard his voice not a second previous. But here he was. Peaceful and asleep.

I returned to Trina, who still stood beside my bed. "He is...fine. Must have been a dream. Go get some rest, Treen." I allowed a smile to form but was unable to resist stealing a last glance towards the Captain's Quarters. "We'll need all we can get for the work ahead of us."

It was some time before I was able to heed my own advice and find sleep. Made no less difficult by the sporadic whispers of the planet.

When I awoke the following morning, a new scene had befallen the Captain's Quarters. I could see Trina inside along with several other members of the crew.

"The Captain is gone," Trina sputtered as I entered the room.

"Gone?"

Trina pointed to an empty ledge beside the Captain's bed. "He took his ECHO-suit and left the base while we were asleep."

"Captain Stalachast departed the base 3 hours and 12 minutes ago. His blood alcohol level was 0.0% and his neurological synapsis were functioning at a historically consistent pattern." A blue light pulsed from a thin white panel in the wall. "Captain Stalachast added a Communications Receiver to his inventory before he departed."

A subtle, painful pressure began to tap against the base of my skull. I pinched the bridge of my nose to clear it. "Well, where is he now?" I asked. "He has to be near, correct?"

OCTAVIUS remained silent for several seconds. When he spoke, the AI's intonation sounded reluctant, almost guilty. "Captain Stalachast has disabled his location transponder."

Tap. Tap. Tap. Several questions blossomed, but I brushed them each aside to focus on the only one that mattered. I turned to face the others. "Where would he have gone?"

Bram, our pilot, was quick to answer. "The Gaia Probe. It's the only place he could go. His transponder may be disabled, but his suit's detection would still allow him to follow the source of the probe's signal."

The rest of those in the room nodded, including myself. "Right, then," I began, my mind going cold and pushing away the panic and confusion I felt. The tapping pain faded. "Bram, I need you to gather the others and explain the situation. Trina, you and Ellyson will stay here at the base and signal us should Stalachast return while we are out."

Bram walked past, laying a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. "We will find, him, Latty. Don't worry. We can figure the rest out later."

I clasped my hand onto his and exhaled. Perhaps my emotions had not been as well hidden as I had thought.

Outside the base, Bram and six others accompanied me through an invigorating sea of alien vegetation and mind-bending images of fantastic geology. At times, even the geometry of this planet's nature seemed to defy understanding. An experience akin to opening the door of a childhood home, but upon entering, finding another house entirely. Or rereading a favored book to find the ending different than what once you read. These feelings, along with the increasingly erratic timing of the whisper-like sounds, wore on our team's mental state as we made our way to the probe that originally led us to this planet.

As we crested over a thickly forested hill, Bram's voice projected into the helms of our ECHO-suits while we stumbled over thick corded vines whose juxtaposition I do not have the vernacular to accurately describe. "What color is that?" he asked, pointing ahead.

It was a simple question, directed toward an alien tree. All of us saw. None of us were capable of providing an answer.

"How much further, Rhaj?" I asked, moreso to distract myself from the disorienting feeling of inexplicable unease rather than in earnest curiosity.

Rhaj looked down at the small device in his palm and back up towards the spiraling treeline. "The signal is showing the Gaia Probe to be just beyond this clearing."

The Gaia Probe was a seventy-foot-long work of technological architecture made of a titanium and altersteel exoskeleton and the collaborative contribution of over two hundred and thirty astronautical engineers of the highest caliber. Its shell was near universe-proof, and its extensive analysis of a planet's exogeological and biodiverse data could be relied on with astounding accuracy.

What stood before us when we finally reached the proverbial lighthouse of our astral path was a twisted, rotten remnant of what we had sent. The drill that had pierced Venta 614's surface and initially retrieved the data that had led us here was now covered in thick rust of a color that my mind recollects only as black but that I know with my being was not. When I probe deeper into that memory, the image of harsh, angry static arises and the tapping pain returns. The top half of the probe had been originally constructed with a long conical tail ending in a sharp titanium point. This had shattered midway and now hung at an angle, dangling from several frayed cords.

A silence covered us, broken only by the whispers and the slow buzzing of the planet's soft wind.

"This..." Rhaj bent at the knees and squatted above the forest floor, steepling his hands and pressing them against the forehead of his helm. "...this can't be."

Bram closed his eyes and grimaced as if in pain. Shaking his head, he stated, "No sign of the Captain. We have to go back."

I had wanted to argue. To protest that we had not checked the area for signs of his presence or set up a perimeter search to ensure he had not wandered further, but I could not. Looking up at the shattered skeleton of Gaia and knowing that nothing in our comprehension could have done such rapid and comprehensive destruction, I wanted only to leave that place immediately and return to base.

No, not just that. I wanted to return home. To abandon the Captain. To abandon the lifelong dream that I had had since I first set eyes on the stars.

"The signal..." Rhaj croaked, head shaking. "It requires the full network be functional. It requires that the antenna be in place. It..." His hands pressed into the bronzed soil as he fell forward and vomited.

"It shouldn't work," Bram said, his voice a shadow of his general bravado. "The signal shouldn't be working."

Rhaj caught his breath and spit bile, a heavy string dripping from his lips. A gentle hum rose from his helm as his suit's sanitization function stirred to life. Reaching out with his glove, he sifted through the dirt and clenched his fingers around a rusted shard from the probe's shell. Without raising his head, he nodded.

"I'm going back."

Before I could stop him, Bram broke into a sprint.

What occurred next still eludes my understanding. In my memory, I can recall a sense of dread beyond anything I have ever experienced. Even to think on it now causes me to tremble slightly and sweat to bead on my neck. For the life of me, however, I can not explain the origin of this reaction. It is as if my mind recoils if I approach too close, and ushers me away with only an echo of the evocation.

We ran, each in our own directions, each in our separate prison of panic, and rushed off into an unfamiliar forest filled with unfamiliar flora. It was inevitable that we would lose one another in the chaos. Screams began to emit from several directions. Unrestrained and chaotic. It was some time before I noticed my own voice adding to the harrowing chorus. Hard tears blurred my vision as fast as my ECHO-helm could dehydrate them.

I found my way back to base. Miraculously, the others seemed to have made their way back as well.

"Latia? Are you alright?" Trina asked, eyes widening at my approach. "What happened to you? Where did you come from?"

My words jumbled together and my speech slurred as I tried to recount the vast inexplicable horror that we had just witnessed. My retelling slowed as I became more aware of the expressions of my crewmates.

Trina interrupted me. "Latia, sit down over here, please. Ellyson, some water for Latia." When she turned back to face me, she had adorned the physician's mask of unshakeable calm that is ubiquitous in that industry. "When do you say that you left?"

I narrowed my eyes, feeling a vibrant anger birthed out of confusion and fatigue. "What do you mean 'when did I leave'? We left hours ago. You and Ellyson were the only ones that stayed."

The other members of my crew shot poorly concealed glances at one another. Bram was the first to speak. His words were slow and soft, as if he were talking to a child. "Latty, we have all been here making preparations. None of us have left base. The Captain is still out there, but we're going to find him."

Trina searched me with her gaze. I shook my head and backed away. "No. No that's not what happened." My mouth spilled defense in a rushing torrent. "We went to the probe. The Captain wasn't there. The probe had been...broken. Dismantled. Bram ran. And then we did too. I was lost. We all were lost. The signal shouldn't have been working. It shouldn't have worked but it did. It led us there. It led us here." My breathing slowed and I sat down, my arms resting lazily on my knees. "It led us here..."

Trina approached slowly. She bent down until we were eye level and then grasped my hand. "I believe you, Latia. Let's go inside and you can tell me the rest of what happened, alright? Come on. Come with me."

Vitality drained, and in a state of severe mental enervation, I relented and allowed her to lead me toward the titanium dome of our base. My vision glazed as the signs of shock crept into my psyche.

But something caught my eye. A piece of metal, rusted, poking out from the tight grip of Rhaj's glove.

I broke from Trina's grasp. Three of the other crewmembers rushed forward to hold me, sympathetic looks on each of their faces as they cautioned for calm. I wrestled against them regardless, shouting for Rhaj to look at his hand. I stopped fighting. As the others worked to restrain me, I watched the face of my friend Rhaj—a kind and honest man—go pale with fear as he struggled to look anywhere but the object in his palm.

"Latia, hold on. Hold on," Trina said. "We're going to figure this out, okay? You and me. Just you and me. I just want to ask you a couple more questio—"

Static buzzed from the speakers inside the base and all heads turned towards the sound. A familiar voice began to speak and my situation was quickly left behind by all but Trina who even so turned her attention away to try and hear. I stumbled forward towards the voice of Captain Stalachast, Trina holding my arm beside me.

"—vermillion treetops of this heavenly place give me a deep sense of intimate peace. Not a second goes by that I do not feel the sweet rush of sensory discovery as the sight and sound and smell of this planet crashes into me, stripping me bare, and cloaking me in a sensation I can only explain as euphoria. A part of me understands that I am being visited by something—someone—who desires to share their native knowledge of this place with me. It is an invitation beyond my deserving. An invitation beyond the measure of my existence.

"I am finally home.

"I am home.

"Home.

"Help me."