The Door
Emilio Wamarez Sanchez
Electoral did not bother showing or discussing the performance of any of the other fourteen players, the game just began with Emilio’s performance. On the screen, the small group of hotel workers were making their way up to the Glass Slipper. The cheap cage rattled as the view of the landscape formed over the horizon. The transparent glider was parked high on the slopes of the Olympus Mons, the eastern giant of the three mountains forming Tharsis Montes. The group, including the President left the lobby of the hotel fifteen minutes ago and was carrying the oddly dressed staff pretending to be guests.
The thousand mile long range on mars was located hundreds of miles to the west, half way between the edge of the giant scar. Olympus Mons, the highest known mountain in the Solar System high of 22 kilometer dwarfs in comparison the Everest, earth's highest mountain, high of only 9 kilometers.
No human could conceive of the distances involved, but near the mountain's top, after a hundred miles of stiff climbing at a good angle, rested the launch pad of what was baptized by most the Glass Slipper as the transparent low orbital vessel allowed a perfect view. The long ship was equipped with rear thrusters allowing it to rise and enter a low orbit around the red planet.
There, a handful of guests while sipping champagne and eating petit fours, were supposed to look at the hellish landscape. The event’s mystique fell flat as humans now saw the experience for more than mere entertainment.
Each person in the glider, with one exception, was holding a cup of bubbly. The men and women were excited to be role playing rich visitors. This was a perfect reproduction of the expensive dress rehearsal which took place on the day Sophie and the 126 players arrived on mars on the eve of Sophie’s arrival.
"Sophie will be here soon," began one, “my wife wants me to snap a picture next to her for Lindsay. Not sure why she likes her so much. Teens I guess. Her bedroom on earth is littered with pictures of Sophie. At fourteen, she should like boys and music groups, no? I mean even Sophie likes this LO guy from Hong Kong," said a guest to the others.
“God are you brainless or what? How the hell did you manage to land a job on mars with your limited mental capacities.” There was laughter.
"Hope she does not mind a picture with metal bars on it," replied the neighbor. "the President just asked security to lock her up. Poor girl, when she wakes up, she will be in jail, away from her dad. She will go nuts."
"Nah, you are pulling my chain, that's the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Why would he do that?"
"Not sure. It's bogus for sure. But who gives a fuck, let's enjoy this ride. We should be back to the hotel before the Airbus lands."
Emilio who, in the scenario, was playing Gerard from the back just shook his head. The French cook was a sarcastic man, he normally keep to himself. The character as described to the players was an intellectual with little love for space travel. He was hostile skeptical about everything and everyone in this environment. He also hated heights but as the one in charge of the weightlessness inspired menu, he needed to see first hand the reaction. For example, he was unclear how the microwave would smell in the ship.
Marilyn could not resist the jab at the President. Emilio had to admit, his order to jail the girl was one of the stupidest of his presidency. The order to place her in a “secure” location had backfired.
The elevator finally arrived on the docking pad. After some politeness, the guests entered the small transparent ship and strapped in the comfortable chairs. The two pilots strapped in and with a large bang, the glider detached from the dock and slid down toward the hotel slowly at first but accelerating constantly for minutes until the wings felt upward resistance. Mars had almost no atmosphere. The viewers of the game normally would have loved the first person view of the event. But this time, there wasn't much interest as to the theatrics.
The glider, at a strong downwards drop still followed the side of the mountain until it reached the hotel. At what seemed like the last second, the pilot pulled the broomstick and bent upwards to give the passengers the first taste for a full gravity. In a matter of minutes, the Slipper had reached a high trajectory and began a course toward the Electoral Center located North East of the giant pimple on the face of mars.
In the Slipper, the weightlessness returned but the champagne mysteriously stayed in the flutes. Gerard knew a delicate powder was added to the bottle allowing the magnetized flute to hold the liquid. The glasses were also charged mildly. Viewers would think Marilyn’s images were wrong.
The pilot told everyone they could unbuckle their seatbelts and were now free to roam around the cabin. Marilyn’s background footage was already ready to go. Everyone back at home saw the magic site of flying over the red desolate planet in nothing more than transparent polymer. Emilio remained mostly silent and kept to himself inspecting the food being handed over to the passengers. Slowly, the incredible sights of mars helped the billions of viewers gain back a sense of normalcy. Time healed most wounds.
"To your left you can see the Electoral Center where the contestants will begin in a few days to play Rounds 29 to 32. Round 28, will be held in the hotel lobby but after that, Marilyn built next to the Glider's launch pad what she calls the Catapult. The project remains mostly a secret. But expect wonderful footage as most of you will be thrown in the air to visit the Center.
"Your food is crap!" Joked one of the guests.
"It's your second serving." Gerard replied. He grabbed the bite from the other passenger's hand and ate it. "Not sure about all this,” he waived at the cockpit, “but this is perfection, millions of miles from where all this food was created."
Emilio, acting as the French cook looked carefully at the food. The man's eyesight was incredible; he was living in a high definition world. His SAC was correct, Marilyn had purposefully created turbulence on the original flight to prevent him from seeing the Door. Every detail was crisp as day. The President knew better and waited the end of this long introduction. His role at this point was minor.
The Glider flew over the Electoral Center, it then accelerated down and turned around the spike in a sharp right turn feet above the ground. No pilot would dare take such a risk but Marilyn was running the simulation which she promised was built to please. As the transparent glider turned at nearly a thousand miles per hour, the dark rocks within the circle of protection of the tower shaped themselves to form an old logo of Marilyn and the Electoral 2062 game.
The next destination was the eastern tip of the Valles. The pilot spoke to his guests, "Today is an incredible coincidence, the sun is rather high in the sky and it should illuminate a large portion inside the Valles.” The light began to shine in the Valles, it went down and down until a rare portion of the wall was visible from could be seen. The music was conveying excitement. The moment the ship passed between Ascraecus and Pavonis, while they were still in the distance, Gerard could distinguish details. "There," pointed Emilio playing Gerard, "a black dot."
His words did not seem to have the desired impact. Instead of drawing the attention of others to something he alone could see, someone had just cut the power. Everything went dark in the cockpit. Auxiliary power was also dead. It was day on Mars.
The pilot turned back and asked the passengers to strap in after instructing the two Stewart’s to help them put on a pressure suit. Initially he announced there would be no problem as gliders unlike regular ships required no power to really operate. But the steering of the air flaps of such a large craft required some power. Marilyn, to help everyone accelerated what came next.
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The ship was moving too fast and the broomstick without a minimum of power could not be easily moved. The ship flew directly to the Valles. It passed ground level and automatic parachutes extended out slowing the ship to a crawl. The ship began to point down and like a dead rocked falling vertically, it landed by miracle safely and within feet of the Door at the bottom of the Valles.
There was a long commercial break.
When the broadcast returned, the team was an hour later. The sun had passed in the sky. They waited in the dark.
It was clear the group had been there for quite some time and was running out of options. The crew was trying to reactivate the life support systems. Other were trying to communicate with Marilyn. Gerard and Paul drew the short straw and were tasked with entering the Door to find help. Both men were wearing atmospheric suits and heavy boots. As they closed their thicker suits, power returned in them. Everyone looked surprised. This was progress. After closer inspection, nothing else worked but they were ready to go into the cavern. Gerard tried the flashlight, it also worked.
"Seems like something or someone is trying to get us to this cavern." As he spoke the lights and life support returned in the ship. "Nothing else works," said the pilot. "Let me be blunt, the creatures want you guys to pay them a visit, please make it quick so we can get the hell out of here."
"How do we get out?" The pilot pointed up at the scientific barracks miles up in the air. "They have a hoist. Once communication is back, it should be straightforward."
Gerard and Paul walked up to the Door and entered the tunnels. Emilio knew the game was now starting. His mind began to flood with alternate scenarios. For the moment everything was rather simple. In the comm, the pilot said from a distance. "Gerard, you forgot to pack a lunch, we have great food here. One thing is sure, if I had to pick a last meal, your food would be it."
"Sucking up now? Someone is feeling guilty for not coming with us? Not sure why we have three people on the payroll of a military and yet here I am, the fucking cook doing alien exploration."
"It's you they want. I think they made it clear. At least you should have brought a plate of your cheesecakes. They are to die for." Marilyn had no shame in mixing genders. She loved old fashion science opera and comedy.
Gerard held up the lamp and moved in. At first it was dark inside but soon, some type of natural glow was emitted by the iron-colored walls. It was hard not to feel invited. After a while, he bent down and grabbed a pinch of sand on the ground. "Take a look," he said to Paul, "its like dust but it's sand."
The pilot spoke in his ear, "Gerard, can you bag us a sample?"
"You want salt with that? Fuck you! Nothing prevents you from gearing up and following us."
"We only have two full environmental suits, remember?"
"Tell the brain surgeon who built a ship for twelve and only included two suits to retire and buy a house somewhere away from a computer. If I cooked a meal for twelve and only had two steaks, my ass would be unemployed."
"Can you keep the language PG13."
"Moving on."
This is where the game really began. There were branches in the corridor, Emilio knew instantly which road to take but as was often the case, he needed to put on a show for the viewers. "Paul, you take the left, I take the right."
"Splitting ourselves does not appear wise."
"You think what ever we face, being two increases our chances of survival? Actually we increase our chances of success if we split." Emilio knew a game scored higher when he played alone. He walked down the right branch. The cavern network was unlike those encountered by Emilio. There was no time to move down mile-long spaghetti like tubes.
Emilio arrived in a large rounded anti-chamber. The walls were carved with hundreds of glyphs. Some were text, others images of space, planets and land.
The sand on the ground began to move, he stepped back to let it rise up and form something. Slowly, more sand gathered from the tunnel and it took the shape of a human formed of sand. There was no color, just shape. Gerard was looking at the non menacing creature. It turned and spoke to him. The creature moved its lips and sound materialized inside his suit.
"Welcome to our museum," it spoke in clear English to Gerard.
"Are you a martian?"
"No. I am an automated protocol to help visitors get prepared before entering and meeting the dominant species of this planet."
"Can I call my companion?"
"No. My masters wish to talk only to you. You are biologically superior to these others."
"I am?"
"Yes. You hold enhanced eyesight. A genetic mutation. You wish to see where the mutation occurred?"
"Not really, kind compliment though. I hope the others could hear this."
"Shall I begin?"
"Please."
Next came some type of animation. As the creature spoke, the words and the glyphs lit up. "Mars, as you call it, wasn't always in its current position in the Solar System. Back when the planet's were closer to the star, with each passing cycle came pulls, disturbances and climatic catastrophes." The images lit on the wall in a very comprehensive way. "When our planet's orbits came too close, the resulting forces ripped our worlds apart down to the mantle. Volcanos erupted, tsunamis hit coasts, and entire cities were reduced to rubble. Pain does not allow any culture to evolve and as a result, the original martians were forced to live underground in reinforced shelters."
"The primitive mars had seasons, little water, and an atmosphere capable of sustaining biological life. But this planet was small. The elders decided that earth would be a prime candidate for our ultimate refuge in case of natural disaster as we prepared what we now call simply the Destruction. From mars, we saw that our natural catastrophes were very little compared with the massive destruction on earth. Waves were higher than cities. Nothing could survive in the deep oceans. We were warned by some of our members that in case of ultimate destruction, your planet, how ever inhospitable would be our safest refuge. Earth was declared a safe zone, a natural reserve where biology and animals were allowed to evolve free of our interference."
Emilio could not believe what he was hearing. Today was different, he was willing to stand idle and believe even the most fanciful of explanations. The creature continued, "We created a series of nine underground bunkers on earth to hold some of our species if we ever needed. Then we implemented our plan. We tried, using forces beyond our control to push your planet off its orbit. What resulted was self-destruction. Our planet shifted too much and we almost collided with Venus. Mars was sent to this cold orbit. In seconds, life was ripped from our world. The atmosphere left, the ground froze and every plant died. Most of the original martians died in the Destruction."
The sand creature paused as if it was showing empathy for the race. It moved to the second part of the room and resumed its story. "This culture was in panic, it had days to survive and implemented a solution which proved as dangerous as the first. They transferred their living essence to a sand-based form. The replication and transformation process was imperfect. The creatures created were alive but lacked in empathy. They were fractions of themselves. A few of those transformed survived the transfer with more empathy and emotion. They were known as the imperfect. The main dominant emotionless masters forced these imperfect against their will to board exploration ships and were exhaled to every corner of the System. We know all of these ships failed because they were designed to fail. None of the imperfect survived."
If Electoral was to be believed, some of these imperfect creatures were on Mercury and making their way back. The sand creature continued, "The survival of this race depended on the stabilization of venus, earth or some satellites that potentially can have living conditions hospitable to the martians. But the story is far from over, about seven thousand of your years ago we awoken two of our remaining founders and sent them to earth. Their mission was to find one of the shelters and prepare it for our return. The magnetic forces and the high gravity does not allow us to live there. The mission was a failure. The two founders exceeded their mandate and reproduced biologically. They made multiple fertile martians and we believe are your ancestors. They refused to pass on their lore to their descendants."
"That's impossible!" said Gerard.
"Earth had developed primitive races of quadrupeds that had features close to our founders. But there was, for a lack of a better word, no intelligence." If Marilyn had any portion of this right, this would send a chilling message back home. The Bible was right, Adam and Eve did come from the heavens.
Emilio was no ordinary player, his questions were always more probative. "Those martians in biological form, how many remain?"
"This question is better left to the Masters. I have been instructed by the new Conservator to provide you with additional information which is not on these walls. Once you have been informed, you will be allowed to proceed to meet him."
"Please do, at this point nothing can shock me."
"The Masters prepared to retake earth for their own, that included some mild terraforming. Before our plan was completed, the descendants created an abomination. A creature made of silicone and not carbon which violates the very laws of nature upon which the Universe is built. This creature was sent to Mars to destroy us. The Descendants living on earth know of our story and somehow want our destruction."
"Are you telling me Electoral is fighting to defend earth and its inhabitants?"
"The creature you have named Marilyn Monroe is earth's defender, if left unchallenged, it will destroy the Universe along with anything in it."
The sand creature fell to dust and the lights paved the way to the next chamber.
Emilio chuckled, out of character.
There was a long commercial break.