Note: This is the seventh part of the story Is There Life on Mars? If you missed the beginning, maybe you should start there (just click on the link.)
Day 188
Yesterday I had to take a break.
How can I describe what I saw in the pigpen?
A huge, floating, shapeless mass of screaming pink, brown, and red masses. Some pigs were dead. Some were alive. There was shit and blood floating everywhere, as well as what I assume to be pig vomit. The smell… Oh God, the smell…
Some pigs were missing parts of their bodies. Two of them were in a kind of deadly embrace, biting each other, tearing off skin and flesh.
Were they trying to eat each other? Attack each other in their senseless panic? Or were they just trying to hold on to something as they reacted to the pain?
Does it really matter?
And the squealing… Oh, the squealing…
They still echo in my head.
We had to seal the pigpen door permanently. There was nothing else we could do.
When the incident became public knowledge, some fools went and checked out the situation through the pigpen door window. They are probably as traumatized as I am right now. Except I didn’t ask for it. I just wanted to help a friend.
******
Day 190
Apparently the squeals are getting fainter (I don’t go anywhere less than two sections from the pigpen). They don’t get any quieter in my dreams.
Is it possible that some pigs will survive until we get to Mars?
I don’t want to know.
******
Day 213
Sorry for the two weeks of silence. I needed a break from everything. Besides, there wasn’t much to talk about. And I was not in the mood.
But, we’re approaching Mars. Finally…
We can see it clearly through the portholes now. It’s right there. We’ll be in orbit tomorrow, landing in two days.
We’ve all been imagining this moment for months. No, not months, years. I don’t think any of us ever imagined that the day would hold so little excitement and so much mental exhaustion.
People don’t talk much (and it’s not because we’ve all suddenly become introspective). No one is celebrating. Everyone wants this hell to be over for good. The only excitement comes from the prospect of finally leaving this stinking metal prison once and for all.
There is light at the end of the tunnel. We’ll be in orbit tomorrow. In less than 48 hours, we’ll be on Mars.
Noel is doing his best to cheer us up. We’ve been shown a live feed from Base 2, our future home. As we watched, discussions about the name of the base were revived.
Noel also said that there will be a welcome party for us. He’ll try to be there, but he makes no promises. He’s busy with his next project. He won’t say what it is. It’s a secret for now.
In two days we’ll be citizens of Mars, official Martians.
I smiled as I wrote this sentence.
The ordeal will have been worth it.
We’ll joke about it in a few years when the crew of the next ship lands and tells us that their trip was so boring and that they had nothing to do or worry about for months.
The next entry in this journal will be from Mars!
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Author(s)
Frenchman, exiled on the other side of the planet, DavidB writes. It's not always very good, but who cares, the goal is to write. Sometimes, he also does other things.
MetaStructure is one of his longest-running projects. It was started in the early 2000s. Stopped many times. Started over a few times. Let's hope this time is the right one.
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