Zarathustra

"Good morning, good morning and welcome to the Break Room! I’m your handsome coworker at the water cooler, Lionel Fern. You know, they say no one can hear you scream in the vacuum of space. Well, our next guest here in The Breakroom is giving us a holler from the stars! A man who wears many hats topped off with a space helmet. Ladies and gentlemen, the man who took us to the Red Planet: Malik Rashid!"

The "APPLAUSE" sign brightened and the audience came to life with genuine excitement, despite being told to do so. Malik entered stage left, blinded by the studio lights and deafened by the jeers behind it. He'd fit the billionaire CEO template of deceptively minimalistic style despite wearing a ten-thousand-dollar blazer. He shook Lionel's, whose teeth were as white as the lights peppering the studio ceiling.

"Have a seat, Mr. Malik."

Malik got comfortable and gazed into Fern's manufactured face, waiting for him to start the interview.

The applause finally stalled.

"Wow," Fern started.

"Right?" Malik said.

"You're a Martian!"

"I am indeed a Martian, yes."

"So tell me something, Mr. Malik..."

"Please, just Malik."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Malik!"

The "LAUGH" light ticked on, promoting the audience to cackle at the stale joke.

"Tell me, Malik, what's the passport situation like up there? Did you have to pass through customs?"

"While we haven't gotten to the point where we'll need passports for space travel, we promise to make it less painful than the TSA situation we have here on Earth."

"LAUGH"

"Right, right. No, but seriously, we really appreciate you for sitting with us in The Break Room. I know you've been all over the serious platforms. NASA News, 60 Minutes. Just thank you."

"Of course. You know, I watched you all the time on base. You're my news source."

"Wow! But here's the question on everyone's mind: How did you build a space station on Mars without having been there?"

"It's quite simple actually..."

"I'm sure," Fern jested.

"What we've been able to do over at the Solomon Group with our partners at NASA is: We sent parts of the base to Mars over several years. The smaller parts were attached to the hull of a rocket. The bigger parts were the rockets themselves, transforming upon landing."

"And so you used these land rovers to piece everything together remotely?" Fern gestured his hands as if holding an old-school joystick.

"Yes, exactly. By the time we landed, the habitat was already assembled."

"Amazing! So, what exactly was the mission objective for the first-ever trip to Mars?"

"Well, it wasn't nearly as exciting as the moon landing. Very underwhelming in fact. Once we landed, I and four others focused our efforts on tightening a few screws and getting the habitat online.

"And your team? I heard no one can find the lucky bunch..."

"Turns out being one of the first humans to set foot on Mars is extremely lucrative. I'd wager they're off somewhere enjoying themselves."

"Right, of course. And how soon will you be back?"

"It takes a considerable amount of time and preparation to make the trek, but you can bet we'll be back."

"I'm sure they can't keep you away."

"No. No one can keep me away..."

***

Catharine stood and watched him for at least ten minutes. At first, she called out to him, and then she waited. He was staring at a looped video of that Break Room interview that'd been taped years ago. When he was younger and filled with vigor. The face that was once of smooth bronze was now covered in gray, scraggly wool and the well-groomed haircut was replaced with a long matted mane. There was no sign of the corporate tech giant Malik Rashid, only an aged minimalist. A prophet. The only item of excess on his body was the hardened wing of a dragonfly dangling from a string pendant.

"Sir--"

Malik snapped out of his trance. His eyes wired open at his assistant. He looked confused. Deranged. When her face became familiar to him, he spoke.

"What is it?" He grumbled.

"Nothing, sir, it’s just... I walked in and... Are you alright? You don’t look well."

"Of course I don’t. I’m about to step out onto the stage and waltz among the farthest of stars once more."

"Yes, sir. Of course."

"Hey!" A voice cried into the office.

A militant-looking man barged into the room past the receptionists. They recognized him as Captain Virgil. Malik waved off the woman, permitting Virgil's rudeness.

"Good morning, Captain. I believe I said to be here at 0800," Catharine said.

"Couldn't sleep. Too excited,"

His raspy voice dragged out from his toned frame. He stood before the billionaire with confidence, and rightly so. Virgil was a NASA vet before being recruited by the US government to help establish the Space Force, a new military branch founded by President Donald Trump in 2019, who would eventually appoint Virgil as its first acting captain. Despite his crass nature, Virgil was one of the finest as a highly trained mission specialist well versed in space law and operations. Standing upon all this, he took one look at Malik and wore displeasure on his face with no reserves.

"You didn't clean up for this? You look like shit..."

Malik's beard hid most of his expression, but Virgil didn't need to see it to know he wasn't amused.

"Oh, sorry. I guess you’re kind of my boss for this one, huh?"

"Make no mistake, Captain. I am not happy about your presence. I don’t need a boy scout to make sure I'm tying my timber knots tight."

A grin smeared across Virgil's face.

"Oh, but you do, boss. Those men up there were your responsibility. You’re lucky the Space Force doesn’t shut down your little project altogether. But since you’re willing to share, they’ll comply. Consider this a professional courtesy. Frankly, I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you in zero gravity. With your little cult of techies, and your blaspheming ways. The moment I see something shady, I’ll blow the whistle. Understand?

Malik kept his cold stare, unmoved by the promise.

"By the way, the rest of your chosen flunkies are here, too. I’m not staying for the pep talk, so feel free to spew all the philosophical bullshit you want.

With that, Virgil saw himself out.

***

Malik entered the lecture auditorium and stood in front of a large whiteboard. He looked out into the seats that sloped upwards in a dozen rows and arced outward from one wall to the other. In the past, all two hundred of these seats would be filled with the brightest minds, breaking their brain and the bank to learn from Malik's innovative philosophies that led Earth to Mars. It's still speculated as to why he closed his doors to the public and became the reclusive tramp who declines the media's advances, but today, he would see three people sitting in those seats- three chosen agents from NASA's reserve. Lora, Mike, and Vee.

"Hello, again. And welcome to my facility. If you're sitting here then it means you've been chosen to be among the few to participate in Project Zarathustra. The first successful launch to Mars..."

At the confirmation of acceptance, Mike grinned from ear to ear. Lora and Vee reserved their excitement.

"You must feel fortunate, or even in disbelief that you were chosen, because, for one reason or another, NASA has opted to suspend your operations. Furthermore: You all are not the most qualified for a mission of this magnitude.

Mike's grin fizzled out.

"I chose you three nonetheless, for I see beyond the data. I see potential. Call me curt, but I can't stand the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, and I'm willing to wager you can't stand them either for shelving you the way they did."

Lora sat up in her seat. It was true. She hated NASA for placing her in the reserves.

"This will be your opportunity to prove them wrong. And it all begins with a simple philosophy of mine: God did not intend for us to peek behind the veil. Space, as we know it, is the backstage of our realm. It is a place void of order and free of man's manipulation. Still, our curiosity led us to build hulking machines of metallurgic properties to knock down the painted backdrop and see our world for what it really is- a small one.”

"How can you say what God intended for us to find?"

Malik looked up to the woman seated dead center, 5th row. Vee.

"Ah, yes. The Catholic oriental. Still one of the more interesting combinations I've seen."

"The Bible says to be fruitful and multiply. We were given the power to expand and hold dominion over everything."

"Yes, but it also says: "He stretched out the north over the empty place and hangeth the earth upon nothing. He holdeth back the face of his throne, and spread clouds upon it. Now, does that sound like someone who wants to share what's behind him?"

"Well--"

"We're not here to argue the gospel, Ms. Trang. We're here for a mission briefing."

Vee sat back in her chair, still unconvinced.

"Now, the details. You will embark on a journey that only four others in this world had the honor to brave. You will fill the same rolls, each an important cog in the machine of Project Zarathustra.

Malik nodded to someone in the back of the auditorium. The trio looked to the back of the auditorium where Catharine stood. She cut the lights, activating a projector onto the whiteboard. In a flickering open, the solar system popped up onto the board, highlighting a red flight path from Earth to Mars.

"In exactly eleven months and twenty-one days, Earth will be properly aligned with Mars in a system of rotation that only occurs once every two years. Post launched, following the plotted course, Mars will continue to curve away from Earth..."

Malik pointed a laser along the Red Planet curving out of the flight path faster than the ship could follow.

"If we chase its tail, we'll never be able to catch it. Instead..."

The simulation replayed, but this time, as the red planet spun out of the flight path, the ship headed in an entirely different direction. The trio looked on with no idea as to why they would do that.

"We'll let the woman in red dance her star dance, and we'll meet at the end of her routine..."

The Red Planet swung all the way around and lined up right where the ship was.

"Wow," Mike said.

"But if we're off by a margin of even a day, she won't be in place when we arrive. We won't have the supplies to pursue her, nor make the trek back, effectively damning us to the void that the god of ancient literature tried to shield us from."

Mike raised his hand. Malik nodded, permitting him to speak.

"You said if we're off course, we won't have the supplies to make it back, but how in the world did you have the supplies to make the trek at all? I mean, NASA has built a state-of-the-art ship, and even that can only carry about fifty tons of weight. Factoring in the nine months it takes to get to Mars, you'd need over a million pounds of cargo... And I don't see any fat birds flying."

"I suppose that is the question on everyone's mind. How did I even begin to build something that could sustain the life of five people while reaching a distance more than 100x greater than NASA's Artemis missions?"

The trio waited in silent suspense for the answer. An answer kept top secret by Malik's company the Solomon Group for no better reasons than patents and corporate greed. NASA, nor the Space Force had a clue on how it was done, so they allowed the Salomon Group to act independently as long as they shared their data from Mars and acted under the space law(All missions to be staffed by a crew of NASA approved astronauts.)

He'd utter one thing... "Übermensch."

They all recognized the word. It was the name of Malik's ship; the crown jewel of the Salomon Group and the first and only spacecraft to touch down on the face of the red surface.

"The success of this project does not hinge on the mere power of rockets and thrusters alone, but on her networks..."

Malik clicked his remote, morphing the display into a schematic of the Übermensch, detailing hundreds of intricate components. From what they could tell, the design was unconventional, bulky, almost alien in shape- nothing like the many crafts based on NASA's Orion.

"Months ago, we launched components of the ship into space ahead of time around three key points of the flight path."

Malik overlayed the previous image of the solar system and the red line curving from Earth to Mars, showcasing three hotspots spread out along the path.

"We refer to them as "CUBS" Cosmic Unmanned Beacon Systems. This technology ensures that the supplies we need to refuel and restock are suspended in space along critical points of the flight path, so we may use them along the way, instead of strapping it all to the hull like cheap luggage on a commercial flight.

The trio sat in silence with questions on their faces like egg. Mike's hand went up again.

"That's all very interesting, but how do you get the payloads to stay in place so far out of Earth's orbit? We've hurled countless satellites out there that never bounced back. What if we arrive at that critical point and it's not there?"

"Valid concerns. I'd expect nothing less of our payload specialists. Rest easy... That won't happen. The CUBS operates on an invisible tether, secured between Earth and Mars. Think of them as buoys bobbing in the sea of stars, buoyant and there to support us should we be swallowed.

Mike sat back in his seat, fighting the urge to let his jaw hang. This technology had never been heard of, let alone implemented. The possibilities... The potential... If they could create a network of CUBS and tethers, it could change space travel forever.

At that moment, the expanding void weighed on their hearts, overwhelming the scales of their mortality.

God, Vee thought, is this what you wanted?

***

For the next eleven months, they stayed on base at The Solomon Group HQ and trained for the mission ahead. Flight sims, payload acquisitions, zero gravity chambers, mach tests- they'd done them hundreds of times, passing with increasing marks each attempt. Surpassing anything they'd ever done under Nasa's flag. They were fueled by the prospect of being immortalized and joining the ranks of the handful of people whose fingertips stretched out to the furthest reach of the black. The purse wasn't too bad either.

Malik was nowhere to be found. Catharine ran the regimen and oversaw the training with the help of staff. Not Malik. It was as though he fell off the face of the Earth. The trio speculated about his absence. Lora reminded them that he was a billionaire and was probably on vacation somewhere. Mike surmised that no man could come up with a tether system like that and just vacations and he was probably off being a mad scientist. Either way, there was no training on his end. Just silence. They wondered if he was accompanying them on the trip at all.

Someone watched them every step of the way. A man stared with piercing eyes and a look of judgment. He watched from the outside of classrooms to observation decks. The trio knew not who this mystery man was, but they knew to perform at the best of their ability under his scope.

Launch Day...

Lora, Mike, and Vee sat in a private terminal at the base of the Übermensch. There was a glass wall in front of them, seemingly showcasing the hulking vessel outside that would fairy them across the black. Much like the revolutionary ship, they'd been fitted in impressively advanced EMUs (Extravehicular Mobility Units). Instead of the bulky white suits with limited range of motion, The Solomon Group had developed a breathable space suit featuring a far more slender build with all the insolation of its predecessor and a full range of motion.

Lora sat back and relaxed her nerves, taking in deep breaths and enjoying the unlimited supply of natural oxygen before it became a commodity. The droning and hissing of the machines outside preparing the ship made the moment all too real. She'd only gone as far as the moon a couple of times to repair a satellite. Now, she was tasked with flying one of the most advanced ships known to man at a distance only achieved once. She tried not to think about it in depth. After all, she'd clocked over four thousand hours in the flight sim. On paper, she was prepared. Still, flight in the void was different.

Malik entered with Cathrine at his back. Despite his absence, he was fitted in the EMU suit and prepared to make the trip with them.

"Is everyone ready?" He asked.

"Not quite," Vee said.

She walked into the middle of the terminal and held out her hands to them. Confusion set in.

"Come. Join me in prayer..."

Lora and Mike met eyes. They weren't opposed to the idea, and their nerves could've used the bonus of faith. And so they took her hand in theirs, closed their eyes, and bowed their heads.

"Dear lord-

We ask that you guide us across your world and cover us in your flesh as you protect ours. See that we succeed in your mission to advance your creations in your holy name, lord. Touch us with your hand and ensure that our hands are focused without error, lord because there is no error in your ways. See to it that we return to our families having done your will and closer to you, God.

"Amen"

They opened their eyes- their hearts a little more at ease.

"It is done. We'll make it back because Jesus loves us--"

"--For the Bible tells you so?"

They all looked to the door and found a man standing with his arms folded. The trio recognized him as the man who'd been watching them from afar.

"Captain. You've got a knack for entrances..." Malik said.

"What can I say? There's a sort of panache to me."

"Team, meet Captain Luis Virgil. His allegiance lies with the US Space Force," Catharine said. "He'll be our mission specialist."

"The prayer was nice and all, but I'll be your god for this mission. Do what I say, and we'll make it back with air in our longs."

The trio took Virgil in. His suit was a deep cosmic purple with an NSASA and Space Force insignia painted over the heart, contrasting the red, sandy-colored suits of Malik and his trio.

"Jesus. Lighten up, will ya? You all look like you're attending a funeral! Actually, this may very well be our funerals with him on board..."

Everyone looked over to Malik, who kept his cold gaze.

***

In the nine months traversed through the void, the crew of Übermensch hit every mark without error. By month three, their fuel reserves ran low, and their rations were none too plentiful. Anxiety crept into their spines as they entertained the possibility that they'd slingshotted themselves past the point of no return on a single man's word of technology they'd never actually seen work. Before Virgil could lay into Malik, an object popped up on the scanners, pulsating a friendly blue beacon of compatibility. When they looked through the viewpoint, they saw the payload floating just outside in the form of a giant cross. Virgil gave Malik the side eye.

The same scheduled opp had happened by months six and nine; reserves ran low and then restocked from the cross-like CUBS payloads. All the while, Lora focused on her landing approach. She'd managed the speed and trajectory of the ship without incident, sticking closely to the flight path and its low margin of error.

The landing would be a rough one, no matter how gently she sat it down. Mars had no atmosphere, therefore, there would be no resistance to counteract their speed upon descent. At 692,000 kilometers per hour, she'd have to slow the ship to a perfect speed days in advance to attempt a solid landing, and the targeted area, unfortunately, would not be one of solid ground.

The habitat was built in a collosol, jagged scar called the Marineris Canyon, a trench three times the size of the Grand Canyon at six and a half thousand miles long and six miles deep. This was the perfect place to build the base as the canyon protected the habitat from space debris and asteroids. Lora simulated the landing over a hundred times, but no simulation could steel your nerves enough to shirk the abysmal nature of the void.

"We're approaching," Lora said, notifying the crew.

They all turned their attention to the viewpoint. There, dangling in the infinite black, casting its brilliant blood-orange light against their helmets, was the Red Planet.

While the crew looked upon the face of the planet in amazement, Lora felt differently. It was indeed beautiful, but there was something haunting about it. Surreal- the way it floated in the distance imposed a strong image of the planet dangling from a string against a black studio backdrop, like some sort of large-scale paradigm. As she looked on, her eyes could just barely make out what looked like a giant silhouette looming behind the planet--

"What's that?" Mike asked, pointing to the scanner.

A blip popped up on their radar.

"Whatever it is, it's massive. It's almost the size of Mars..." Lora said.

Virgil butted in between them. "That's impossible. There can't be anything that large all the way out here giving off a signal. Something's wrong with this piece shit!"

With that, the blip vanished from the radar.

"Wait? It's gone."--

Suddenly, the ship shook violently, as if a squall of air blew past them. The crew took their seats and strapped in immediately.

"What the hell was that?" Virgil asked.

Lora and Mike checked the scanners. The blip was now a cylinder covering half the face of Mars.

"Jesus," Mike whispered.

"What is it?!"

"It's a dust storm. And by the look of the scanners, it's at least a cat 4.

Virgil turned his gaze on Malik, who was already looking in his direction.

"You son of a bitch. You knew. You knew by the time we got here there'd be a storm..."

Malik sat in silence, neither confirming nor denying his knowledge of the danger awaiting them before launch. Before Virgil could get his hands on Malik, Mike stepped in between them.

"Stop!" Mike said. "If we have any hope of surviving this, we better strap in."

Virgil scoffed. "Surviving? Do you have any idea what the likelihood of surviving a dust storm on Mars is?"

"We have to try," Lora said. "The ship wasn't designed to make the trip back. If we don't try to land, we're dead anyway..."

Virgil considered this truth as his eyes continued to drive daggers into Malik's head. He'd deal with him later...

As they descended unto the Red Planet, the scanners went berserk- though they wouldn't need to read them. They could feel the cosmic squalls bludgeoning the ship and saw the monstrosity that was the dust storm through the viewpoint. It looked as though the planet was being engulfed by a giant red tsunami of celestial properties. By Virgil's eye, it was at least the size of Mt.Everest, standing at an imposing 30,000ft!

"Lora, aim for the eye."

"I'm working on it!"

"Be quick about it. If the ass of this ship even dips into that storm, we're fried!"

As the ship drew closer to the Red Planet, Lora aimed for the calm, a small funnel slightly off the center of the storm. Once inside, the violent wind that had been crashing against the ship subsided for a moment.

They landed, taking a moment of respite to settle their hearts. The silence was deafening as they sat in the calm. Virgil stood from his seat and hovered over the scanner.

"How far away is the habitat?"

"Lora snapped out of her trance and checked the scanner. "F-five miles. east." She pointed to the crimson wall of dust rolling away from them.

"Let me guess: the storm is rolling east, too?" Mike said.

"I calculated we got about thirty minutes before the other end of the storm closes in and smears us across the surface."

Virgil unbuckled Malik and pulled him from the seat. "You heard the lady, deploy that shit car you built!"

The RRII(Red Rover) was a land-craft built to transport astronauts to and from the habitat. With four 50" tires comprised of a dense network of wire and a dome encompassing the cabin made up of multiple panes of tempered glass. The prep to launch the rover took over twenty minutes, leaving only ten left to cover the distance. They'd have to push the rover beyond its design to make it. With this in mind, they took their positions, connecting their suits to a prong protruding from the seat, securing them. Lora was the wheel. Her heart hadn't settled from the last feat she'd pulled off. And now she was tasked with doing it again.

Before she realized it, Virgil had already begun the countdown--

"2...1!"

The cargo door to the ship collapsed, inviting a lash of wind inside, tearing the interior from the walls! Lora punched the throttle! The tread dug into the ship floor and propelled them out into the Red Planet. They looked up through the dome of the rover and saw the wall of the storm towering over them, almost reaching out into the heavens. In the haze of amber, the only thing clear was a small circle high above them granting a peek at the cosmic sky.

Something loomed above it all. A collosol shadow, peeking into the funnel from outside the storm, like a being standing over a play pin.

seven minutes left, and it was painfully obvious. As they came upon the trench, the wall behind them closed in. Lora knew it would be a tight one.

She swung the rover into the trench and downward on a slope. The wall was no longer at their backs but at their side. They saw it- the habitat in the distance. A metallic structure covering at least an acre. This was the home stretch!

The rover slid across the gravel as Lora engaged the breaks. The once-quiet atmosphere was droning up a terrible sound. It was like the projection of rushing water smashing into the surface of the planet with immeasurable pressure.

"Everybody out!" Virgil yelled.

Malik pressed a touchscreen on the console, releasing the seat prongs from their suits. They hopped one by one outside of the dome and sprinted for the habitat.

Malik entered the command for the door, sliding it open. "We're in!"

"Wait!" Lora shouted as she pointed to the rover.

Virgil was stuck in his seat. The prongs had not released him yet.

Lora started for him but was held back by Vee and Mike, pulling her into the habitat.

"But Virgil!"

"There's no time", Malik started. "If you go out there now, you won't come back."

Lora stripped herself of their grip as the habitat door slid closed.

Virgil struggled to pull his back from the seat as the ground beneath the rover shifted. When he looked above him, the wall of the storm was cascading into the trench like a great waterfall of destruction. Rocks and debris belted into the dome of the rover, scuffing and cracking it! He could feel the wall closing in as his helmet cracked by the high frequency of the vibration. It was upon him now and he ceased his struggle.

They watched from the window as the wall slammed into the trench, crushing the dome and shredding the rover to ribbons with razor-sharp debris hurling at imaginable speeds. It was gone as quickly as it came, leaving nothing but layers of dust, and not a shred of Malik's technology, nor the man within it.

Lora stepped away from the door and turned he gaze on Malik. "Is it true? Did you know there'd be a storm when we got here?"

"The project was not designed to miss any cycles. We could not afford to wait another two years to get here- the habitat needs maintenance."

"So you'd put all our lives in danger for this?"

"Yes. This is bigger than your life, or even mine."

Mike stepped in before Lora could get her hands on Malik. "Forget it. He's not worth it. And we're already here. We'll need all of us to maintain this place and get home..."

Six months- Six months was how long they had to stay in the habitat until Mars aligned with Earth again and they could depart. Within this time there was much to be done.

Vee focused on the collections of samples. The habitat had a mini automated rover that routinely would go out and collect samples, pictures, and map out the surface. She spent most of her time sorting through the rocks and dust, scrolling through beautiful snaps shots of the night sky.

Mike was tasked with the repairs and maintenance. On the down cycle, the air pressure and overall wear on the habitat causes small breaches in the seams. The habitat was made breathable, able to expand and contract slightly with the ever-changing air pressure. It gave the subtle angst of the structure being alive- breathing. It was Mike's task to make sure every joint and seam was secured and airtight.

Lora kept track of supplies and inventory. There was a finite number of rations, though it was stocked almost twice as much as they'd need for the stay. From tools to toiletries, Lora made sure consumption was accurate down to the number.

Malik focused on communications with Earth. He conducted this business in his private quarters, seemingly on mute. They'd have to trust that he conveyed the untimely death of Luis Virgil, and when asked about it, he gave no answer. Malik's behavior was already shifty, but it appeared to have been more obvious the moment they entered the habitat.

It would've been 2 am PST. The team kept their same sleep cycles on Earth, so Mike and Malik were in their quarters. Lora came out into the common area and found Vee sitting at the table eating out of a box of cereal.

"Don't worry. I'm not eating all of it."

Lora took a seat across from her. "I don't care. I'm off the clock anyway."

They sat in silence as the low-powered lights softly lit the room and the droning of the generators hummed its soothing promise.

"Find anything interesting during your collections?"

"Yeah actually. It's kind of weird..."

"This whole thing is kind of weird."

"I guess you're right, but, I found something in some of the snapshots."

"Don't tell me you saw a little green man."

Vee smiled. "No. More like a shadow in the sky. It was dark, shaped sort of like a bat. The snaps were consistent with movement."

Lora nodded. As if trying to understand. "I think we need to get some sleep."

"I can't. I've been... troubled."

"Virgil?"

She nodded.

"It's not anyone's fault. If anything one's to blame, it's that selfish bastard Malik for putting our lives in danger..."

"I- I know it's his fault. I saw him."

"What?"

"In the rover, when he unlocked our seats, he passed over Virgil's button."

Lora's mouth fell ajar.

"He never released Virgil from his seat."

Lora's eyes widened as the truth dawned on her. Malik was a murderer.

Lora, Mike, and Vee stormed down the corridor and stood before Malik's door. Lora banged on the door as if it was Malik's head.

"Malik! Open up!"

"Maybe we should try to calm down a little," Mike said.

Vee placed a hand on Mike's shoulder, shaking her head.

"Malik!" She continued to bang. Nothing. No reply.

The door slid open, confirming what they'd already believed. He wasn't there.

They searched everywhere. High and low. Malik was not present. He couldn't have left the habitat- his suit and the rover were still present in the dock, and the last hatch opening recorded in the logs was when Mike set foot on the surface for repairs days ago. Given the layout of the habitat, there was no way Malik could hide, and no possible way he could have left.

Where was he?

They stood in his quarters with the question on their faces.

"We must be missing something," Lora said.

"I think you're right." Mike paced a little gathering his thoughts.

"You know something."

"To do my job effectively, I had to study the blueprint for this structure. I found a few inconsistencies. When I brought this up to Malik he convinced me not to worry about it. But there's most definitely a hidden chamber built into the side of the trench."

Lora approached Mike close enough to avert his eyes.

"Where?"

He led them to a lone corridor with an industrial fan blowing air throughout the habitat. The source of the droning. The breath.

"One day I shut off the fan to clean the blades when I found an uncharted tunnel that seemed to keep going. Malik said it was nothing, but I know something here."

Lora focused through the blades. She could almost hear voices coming from the depths.

"Shut it down..."

After braving a long dark pipeline filled with voices growing in volume, they stepped out into what could only be described as a storage warehouse. Inside was an insurmountable number of old televisions, piled unevenly, stacked atop each other forming jagged mountains. What's more, the TVs were powered and played old news broadcasts from the 60s, talk shows, and sitcoms, forming an amalgamation of indistinguishable voices. They had to dismount a slope of this talking hardware before they could get to the floor where a path cut through the building-like piles, leading off into the distance. They looked at one another, but only the words from the boxes fell on them.

They found Malik at the end of the path. He was kneeling, forehead to the floor, palms up, subservient. Before him, in a clearing of tall televisions, was a creature of eldrich properties, nailed to a tall makeshift cross. Its head was that of a dragon, dangling weakly down its torso, its arms resembled that of a man, nailed to both sides of the wooden plank. draping from its back was a brilliant cosmic silk meant to be its wings. It looked weak, malnourished, starved. Its slender frame must've been at least thirty feet long, crucified to a board three stories tall.

They stared in amazement as they bent their necks as far back as naturally possible, taking in the Lovecraftian idol.

"Chris almighty..." Vee whispered.

"You should kneel now...," Malik said from the floor. "Unless you want to wind up like the others."

Lora looked to the base of the cross where the being's tail cascaded onto the floor. There were bones and old rags that resembled the crew's leisure wear. It dawned on her; the members of the first trip!

"Kneel!" Malik shouted, breaking the sweat from his brow.

Lora could do nothing but stare into the deep black pockets that were the being's eyes. She sensed it- its subtle breaths.

It was alive!

Suddenly, its wings sprang to life! All six were erected, gyrating and producing a powerful gust of wind accompanied by a specter-like pollen made up of every hue of the rainbow. Their limbs fell weak, numbed, and dead weight set in as a white light overtook them...

***

Good morning, good morning and welcome to the Break Room! I’m your handsome coworker at the water cooler, Lionel Fern. You know, they say no one can hear you scream in the vacuum of space. Well, our next guest here in The Breakroom is giving us a holler from the stars! A man who wears many hats topped off with a space helmet. Ladies and gentlemen, the man who took us to the Red Planet: Malik Rashid!"

Before their sight returned, they heard the roar of applause, and when their eyes adjusted, they found themselves backstage on a production set. A young Malik approached them, hair cut and an expensive blazer.

"Be sure to follow the script..." With that, he walked on stage, kicking up the applause again.

Lora followed him out onstage where the applause stalled to a halt.

The studio was bare bones, seemingly put together by four weak walls with no insolation. The lights were dim too, dangling from what looked like an infinite void of black where the ceiling should have been. Strings were falling from this void and into the audience where life-sized dolls sat, meant to mimic everyday people with casual clothes draping off of the wooden bodies.

"Welcome..." A voice said.

The team turned to the stage where the host and Malik sat with a wallpaper of the cosmos acting as their backdrop to the set. Lora looked at her hands, opening and closing them. There was an overwhelming feeling of detachment in her limbs.

"What's happening?" She whimpered.

"LAUGH"

The strings danced and the puppets in the audience manufactured a thunderous laugh, far louder than their minuscule numbers could produce. They covered their ears.

"You've guys got a way with the crowd."

"Who are you? And what is this? Where are we?" Lora asked.

Malik sat back in his chair, looking at the host.

"Why, you know me! I'm Lionel Fern! Your handsome coworker at the water cooler! And you're on The Breakroom."

"Don't give me that shit! We just saw a giant alien nailed to a fucking cross! We're not on a TV show! We're on Mars! So what is this!"

Lionel and Malik met eyes with smirks on their faces.

"I got rid of Virgil so I wouldn't have to deal with the profanity..."

"She's not that bad."

Lionel straightened out his blazer and sat up at his desk. "I was right in calling this the breakroom, figuratively speaking, we are taking a break from all things tangible."

"So who- what are you?"

"I am your creator."

Lora burst into laughter in a mocking sense. The studio puppets lay cold.

"There no way that's true," Vee started. "No creator of ours would strike such foul and unpleasant feelings unto our hearts."

"The medicine never goes down easy, dear child. I may not be what you envisioned, but I am he."

"Our creator is B-list celebrity Lionel Fern?" Lora asked.

He smiled. "I've watched you all since the beginning. Since I spread the seed of life throughout my cosmos. Many a man has come and gone- I like Lionel."

"And so what do you want?" Mike finally asked.

"I want to reveal myself. I want to come to Earth and make it my home."

Lora shook her head.

"Don't fret. I'm aware of the ancient literature detailing my unsavory return. That is not my intent. Eternal punishment? I suppose that's the worst thing a man could dream up."

"Who says anyone believes you? You're still no god of mine?"

He smiled. "Dear, Vee. Your devotion to what you believed once was is commendable. I will grant you grace being faced with the contrary, but I ask you to quickly accept the truth."

"We don't have to accept anything!" Lora barked.

"BOOOO" the audience cried.

Lora turned to the puppets. They sat as cold as ever. As if casting stones and hiding their hands.

"Careful, Loralai. You're losing favor with the people..."

Lora ignored the words and stormed over to Malik, towering over his seat.

"I'm giving you one chance. I don't know what kind of billionaire bullshit you're on, but wake us up! Now!"

Malik looked over to Lionel, who shook his head.

"Non-believers are so vexing. You always have to exert a crude amount of power to convince them."

Lionel clapped his hands, sending a gust of wind into the backdrop of the stage, blowing a hole in the space-painted wallpaper. A cold air blew through the hole, and a darkness only equal to its emptiness. Lionel stood and headed for the wall.

"Follow me. And do watch your step."

They walked into a small dark room with four walls, a floor, and a ceiling. When Lionel snapped, a flash and a BANG occurred. creating a paradigm-sized universe, expanding every second. They could feel it. They felt the lives of an unimaginable amount of life forms and organisms existing within that plane. It was not their eyes that believed, but their hearts. Vee fell to her knees, overcome by amazement and joy. Lora stood along with Mike.

In the blink of an eye, they were back on stage.

Tears fell a short distance from Vee's face to the carpet. Her faith was stronger than ever, though appreciation still plagued her heart.

"When you get to Earth... what will you do?" She said looking up at him.

He smiled. "I will heal. There is one constant among man, and that is pain. They become mounds of it. They have tricked themselves into believing they can heal on their own when the truth is, there are always scars. People's lives are much like the bones that help them stand. They break and they heal. But if you break a bone too many times, it doesn't matter if it heals, it is now weak. Disfigured. This is the truth of people's lives. Whether it be abandonment..."

Mike averted his eyes.

"The loss of a child..."

Lora stood firm.

"Or never being good enough for those you hold dear..."

"For I will restore health unto thee, and I will heal thee of thy wounds, saith the Lord," Malik whispered.

He held out his hand. "I'd like you to be the first, my child..."

Vee looked up, her knees still planted in the ground. A stream of sorrow and joy leaked from her eyes. She reached out for him.

"AWWWWW"

"No!" Lora shouted.

Their fingertips touched, reducing Vee to a pile of dust red dust, sucked into the hole of the backdrop.

"What did you do to her?!" Mike shouted.

"She's added to the collective conscious. There will be no more pain for her."

"Collective consciousness?"

"Correct. Once on Earth, I will merge the consciousness of all living beings into one observable experience. There will be no more pain. No more suffering. Only bliss..."

Lora nodded. Still unconvinced. "And What's his role in this?" She pointed to Malik.

"Malik is a loyal follower, hand-picked by me. When I first sent remnants of myself to Earth, it was meant for Malik to find me. He was the brightest and most capable of any generation. It was him that made this connection possible."

Malik holds the dragonfly wing necklace close to his heart.

"You too can help spread the gospel. Go forth to Earth, and tell the people of my return..."

"Why do you need us? Couldn't your golden boy do it?"

"My people today are of a tribal bunch. One man, well, he's a lunatic. But several men... They may be persuasive..."

"And if we refuse, we'll wind up like the last crew?" Mike asked.

"The last bunch had a choice. There is no room for denial. Defiance will be met with damnation..."

"I thought eternal punishment wasn't your intent?" Lora said.

A hiccup of laughter escaped Lionel's lips. "I've had enough of this..."

The black in the ceiling oozed onto the puppets in the audience, engulfing the stage and everyone on it.

***

They opened her eyes! They were in the warehouse again, kneeling before the Eldrich being. Lora looked over to find Vee's corpse, sucked dry to the bone. When they looked up, they found the being moving, squirming from its confinement to the cross, ripping its palms from the nails.

"Run!" Lora screamed.

They turned and sprinted down the path again.

BOOM!

The being hit the ground and gave chase like a giant serpentine predator. As they climbed the slope, heading for the pipe again, the being crashed and slammed through the TVs like they were waves of an ocean.

They made it into the pipe, clamoring desperately in the dark to make it back inside of the habitat. Lora made it out first and waited for Mike to emerge. He popped out shortly after and fell to his knees, gasping for air.

"Holy shi--"

And ARM stretched out through the pipe and snatched Mike's body! It was large enough to choke him from his neck to his ankles. The talons dug into his spine, his blood seeping through the hole in the being's hand where the nail once was. Lora was in shock. The pipe must've been at least forty yards long. How could it reach?

In a swift jerk, Mike was ground back through the pipe and into the dwelling of the being.

Lora hastily geared up in her suit and prepped for launch! The Zohar, a miniature replica of the Übermensch, made with the bare necessity to launch, was stationed on a ramp arced upwards out of the trench. As she powered on the ship, the scanners went haywire!

A storm was brewing.

She managed to launch the craft assuming the role of the others. Once outside the trench and in the atmosphere, she saw it- the wall of dust, spearheaded by the six-winged being, attempting to swallow her whole. It was hot on her trail, reaching out, barely clipping the thrusters of the ship! She gave it everything, carelessly burning the fuel to increase the gap. She burst past it, engulfing the being in a brilliant flame, brighter than the Red Planet itself...

***

She'd been floating for months now. Her rations were low, and her fuel was depleted. Had she not used a third of her fuel in that mad dash of an escape, she would've reached the CUBS by now. She was all turned around and off schedule too. She'd shut the viewpoint because she was sick of the void. The emptiness. She hadn't interacted with anyone in months, and the only sound to break the deafening silence was the bellow of her starvation. She wouldn't last much longer, and the thought of the afterlife chilled her bones more than the icy black encompassing her ship.

What if it was all real? What if she died, only to be met with that serpentine beast again? He wouldn't be pleased. Would she have been better off following Vee into his grace? No. That was no god--

The ship rattled a bit as a welcoming blue beacon popped up on the scanner.

"A CUB!"

She mustered all her strength to stand and opened the viewpoint--

There, just outside the glass, staring with its deep black pockets of eyes- The six-winged being!

Before she could gasp, its wings erected- all six, blasting a blinding white light.

***

When she awoke, she tried to open and close her hand. There was an overwhelming feeling of a disconnect from her body. She was seated in a studio audience, next to Vee, and next to Mike. She couldn't move a single bone. She was confined to her seat. Unable to speak. Unable to yell. Her vision was fixed center stage, where the host Lionel Fern sat with a smile as bright as the stars.

"Welcome to the breakroom," he said.

"APPLAUSE"

Lora's hands shot into the air, clashing with each other and performing a violent clap. There were strings attached to her, forcing the action. It didn't wane, and it didn't stop, as the crowd of puppets cheered on the show that was the cosmos.