Back from Earth

Return

Natalya woke up from her nightmare sweating profusely. In it, she had seen herself sending countless men into mines where they had only a sliver of a chance of ever getting out alive. As the men and women passed her on their way in, forced to the grind, they would ask her: "Why did you chose me?"

She sat upright on her camp bed. She looked around only to see the thirty-third bridge unchanged: filled with camp beds and refugees sleeping in them. The camp beds stretched from wall to wall. The whole place smelled horrible, rocked by periodic snoring sounds. Realising that this might be the only time of the day that there would not be any queue at the bathroom, Natalya got up and exited the small two square meter area numbered as 11, her designated space for the entire eight-month-long trip.

She carefully walked down the narrow alleyway that was formed by the refugees' feet sticking out from their bed. She made her way to the edge of the bridge and entered the woman's bathroom. As expected, there was no queue. It was the first time that she had not had to wait before entering since the beginning of the journey months back.

She went to wash her sweaty hands. The lights were dimmed, the bathroom seemed deserted. All the stalls were closed. It was entirely quiet. Natalya looked into the mirror and found her reflection haunting. She stared and inspected herself, surprised to look so dishevelled.

"You are a monster," she whispered to herself. Her voice cracked as she spoke. Her dream was replaying in front of her eyes, as if the mirror was a screen. It was broken up with her own experience to the point where she had difficulties differentiating what was real and what was not, what had happened and what her mind had made up.

In front of her, she could see countless men and women with pleading eyes staring at her. They were begging her to say something, to stop what was happening. She watched as they descended in the mines, whipped forward by soldiers. She selected further men and women from a monitor overlooking a pen where thousands had been gathered like a herd of cows for culling. None of them knew what would happen to them, but they all knew their end was closed.

"You are a monster," she repeated louder. "How could you ever do this? You are responsible for the death of hundreds, of thousands of Martians. To what end?" Her voice grew louder and louder, into an evil shriek. She hit the side of the sink with her fist. The pain snapped her out of her trance-like state for a split second. And then she screamed. Maybe it was the physical pain, or maybe it was the psychological pain she felt. The guilt felt like an icicle was piercing her brain. She wanted the memories to leave her, to rush out. Instead, they stayed entrenched into her mind, unable and unwilling to let her be.

"Will you be silent?" a woman whisper-shouted emerging from a stall behind Natalya. Natalya jumped in surprise. "Are you crazy? You cannot say these things, not here, not anywhere, not ever." The woman grabbed Natalya by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Do you understand me? This is too dangerous. If anyone else but me had heard you, do you know what could have happened? We have all done things we are not proud of on Earth. That's why we are here. That's why we are going home. What you said could be twisted, misunderstood. It could cost you your life."

"But ..." Natalya said feebly. She wanted to explain, give context. She was guilty, no one else was.

The woman cut her off.

"Listen to me. Swear to me that you will never speak of anything that happened on Earth to anyone again. Swear to me!"

The woman shook Natalya like she would of a misbehaving child, as if that would help carry the gravity of the situation.

"As long as you are open about this, about our time on Earth, all our time, then you are a danger to yourself and to others. You understand me?"

The woman's orders were slowly seeping into Natalya's mind. Her eyes were locked into the woman's eyes. Finally, she nodded back to her.

"So when you exit this bathroom, you will be a changed person. You will act as if everything is normal and you will never again speak about what happened on Earth. You will never mention the tragedy that fell upon us. You are as much a victim as anyone. And you need to behave as one if you want to survive. Is that understood?"

Natalya nodded again. This time it was deliberate. The guilt had not vanished, but it felt contained, less potent, balanced out.

"I need to hear an answer."

"Yes," Natalya whispered. "I understand."

The woman let go, and Natalya fell to the floor in tears. She cried and cried, thinking of everything that had happened. Despite all of her guilt, she knew this woman was right, whoever she was. If she could not forget her past, she would have to carry it and hide it within her. The woman was right. It was a matter of life and death. And she wanted to live. Once on Mars, she wanted to reconstruct her life. The stories of her part would have to be carted away within herself, and she would have to come up with a story for herself, one that avoided everything that happened, despite the guilt.

Natalya got back onto her feet and looked back. The woman was gone. She fixed her hair best she could, looking at the mirror. She raised her head high, forced a smile onto her face and exited the bathroom, ready for a new lease on life. She was in control.