Mare Doloris

by TinCan

Discovery

I awoke in a world that had become timeless. Gone were the duty bells and hisses and rushing limbs from the ship. The days of this tide-locked satellite were the months of its planet. I didn't even notice a change in the angle of sunlight flowing through the heavily reinforced and polarized window in the ceiling of my cell.

After completing my "morning" duties of prayer and a devotional exercise, I broke my fast with an algae cake, then began setting the prefabricated shelter in order. The batteries were charged and standing by; pure solar during the day sufficed for all the habitat's needs. Hydroponics was up and running. It would be able to take most of the load off the atmospheric mixer once the plants and cultures had reached maturity. Facilities for cleansing myself and recycling waste stood ready to serve. The air was sterile and cool, and, best of all, not leaking into the outer vacuum.

After the check, I unpacked the necessities. My library, an icon, and a memento mori of personal significance fit neatly on the fold-out shelf along one wall. The rest of the crates and canisters contained supplies for my mundane needs and could be safely ignored until later.

Does it seem strange for an eremite to be giddy? I was distracted and tingling with excitement throughout this entire routine. The cell was simply a place to curl my scales, ultimately no different than my cabin in the ship. What I longed to do was travel out beneath the empty sky and fully immerse myself in the silence and peace of my tiny world.

On one claw, a hermit should practice self-denial, weaning himself away from the endless bellowing of the body and its desires. On the other, the hermit does what he does because it is good. That I had an easier time seeing that than many others was no fault! Why should I not be glad?

After re-donning my suit and double-checking its status, I cycled the airlock and emerged into the bright, black sky of day. My soul moved within me at the sight, and I only got a few steps before I tumbled and embraced the dust with joy and gratitude.

Rolling onto my back and staring up at the blazing star and its thriving planet, music poured from me. In a fit of fancy, I activated the translator and sent my praises by radio, blessing the Increate in every language with bursts of low-frequency radiation. I imagined the waves falling unheard and unsuspected all about the strange creatures on the world above me. I wished them nothing but good. So long as they remained in their sphere and never troubled me, I was sure they were the most just, benign and righteous species ever born.

All ecstasies pass. I bounced easily back to my feet in the microgravity some time later and set to exploring my surroundings, loping up the scree on all sixes to the ridge of the eye crater. Running on the moon was like flying and swimming at the same time. With each leap, I expected to feel a wind whistling through my ears. The only sounds were the pumping of my hearts, the rattle of my scales and a subtle shuffling of my muscles that I'd never dreamed could be audible.

The crater was far too large to circumnavigate, but I began traveling along the ridge anyway. At least there was no danger of getting lost as I might face among boulders and hills in the lowlands. I felt the stillness begin seeping into me, bringing me into a world where I was no longer a citizen, a worker, or even an "esteemed guest." Now I was only a creature. It was wonderfully liberating.

---

And so I lived out my first long day on this world in a happy daze. Sleeping, meditating, studying, exercising, and tending my tiny garden and little house occupied all my time and thoughts.

The only thing I came to miss was smells. Smell of soil after rain, smell of decent cooking, smell of the females of my species all began to haunt me. I dreamed of them and awoke tear-stained.

Well, I consoled myself, even one so suited to the solitary life must feel some privations! I was sure these pains would pass either through self-mastery or inevitable fading of memory.

As the long evening deepened and the stark line of the terminator became visible on distant hills, I decided to take one last stroll along the lip of the crater. Once night fell, I would have only the distant stars and the reflected light of the planet to see by, and the danger of becoming lost or injuring myself would greatly increase. I doubted I would spend as much time outdoors until the horizon fell beneath the sun again, and wanted to take full advantage of this last chance.

I suppose I ventured farther than normal. The landmarks on either side of the ridge became unfamiliar to me. There were more large rocks littering the slopes, the remains of ancient meteor strikes or moonquakes, perhaps. I was gazing across the field of boulders and monoliths when I saw them.

You who dwell on inhabited worlds must know what it's like to think yourself alone and suddenly find yourself observed. The sudden icy feeling of shame and fear and vulnerability was maybe a hundredth of what I experienced. I threw myself down into the dust on the far side of the ridge and felt as if I would die right there of shock. I'm ashamed to admit it, but my first reaction was to clutch at the empty holster at my side.

It had been two figures. side-by-side, sitting atop a rock with the sun behind them. I had been walking on the ridge, silhouetted against the black sky. There was no way I could have escaped their notice.

Could I stay on the inner side of the crater and run back to the cell, keeping its wall between me and them? The idea was absurd. No one can disguise their tracks in the pale, soft dust of the moon. They could follow me back to my abode whenever they pleased. I pressed my faceplate into the ground and groaned. Even here, I couldn't escape the fear and anxiety that came with the presence of other creatures. The crew's predictions of my eventual fate seemed much more plausible now.

There was nothing to do for it. If I didn't seize the initiative here, they could just follow my tracks and find me at any time. All it would take would be punching my habitat full of holes, or wrecking my solar collectors, or blocking my door, and I'd be doomed. With a prayer to the Increate, I turned on the translator and radio and forced myself back over the ridge.

They were still there, looking straight at me. I hauled myself erect and gazed back, trying to look a little imposing, but not too much. I greeted them in the name of the Increate, source of all, and said that I meant them no harm.

They made no response.

I told them I simply wished to be left alone in peace, and asked whether they had any quarrel with me.

No reply, no movement.

It occurred to me that radio communication is not necessarily a prerequisite for a spacefaring civilization, though it really helps. Maybe I would have to touch my helmet to theirs and speak to them directly. I slid down from the ridge and approached them slowly, holding my front claws open and pointed upward as a sign of peace.

I clambered up their rock and found myself face to faces with a pair of statues. I wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. The panic that coiled around my guts softened into dread. I was not discovered, not yet, but neither was I alone. Someone else was here, or had been here and logically could return.

All things created bear the signature of their makers in some fashion. I studied the statues for clues as to theirs. The two images depicted a species unfamiliar to me. They had large heads with erect ears and enormous, intelligent-looking eyes. Each had four limbs, ending in a single toe. Oddly-shaped things sprouting from each statue's head, neck and rump were most likely hair. I discovered their faces were not actually turned to the ridge, but higher, gazing into the starry sky with expressions of awe and wonder. The slightly smaller of the two had placed its toe atop the other's in what looked like a gesture of affection.

Both were the same color as the native stone, but there were no chips or tailings nearby to suggest they had been produced on this spot. What sort of mad artist would carve sculpture and then move it out into the middle of nowhere? I searched around the base of the boulder for tracks, and found them. They were U-shaped, matching the feet of the statues, but slightly larger. Bizarrely, though the footprints clustered around the boulder, there were none leading to it or away. Whatever brought these here could defy gravity.

Something moved from the corner of my eye and, in my surprise, I stumbled into one of the statues. It crumbled into powder at my touch.

The motion I had seen was only the terminator, the stark, razor-edge division between day and night, crawling over a nearby hill. Darkness would soon cover me.

I looked down at the remains of the statue. It was only packed dust. How could something like that be transported or made on site, much less hold itself together?

There was no time to ponder further. I would return to my cell under cover of darkness, replenish my oxygen, and then hunt the inner slope of the eye crater for the sidearm I had so blithely discarded.

I hadn't retraced my steps a kilometer when a horrifying sight met my eyes: more statues, and then more. Dozens! Had they been there all along, and I simply hadn't noticed them until the low sun made their shadows stream across the landscape?

No, impossible. There were too many, some even perched atop familiar landmarks. Whatever had made these, I was now following behind it. The thought slowed my pace.

The sun soon won our race and plunged me into the night. There is no twilight on airless worlds; night is instant and complete as soon as the horizon overtakes the sun. The only way to find the ground is to look for where the stars end. In spite of this, I didn't dare turn on my suit's lamps as I picked my way home.

After what felt like years, I spotted the red beacon light that marks the location of my hermitage at the base of the crater's outer slope. It was visible for tens of thousands of ells in most directions. I needed to turn it off. As I approached, I noticed, to my dismay, that I was too late. Another statue was barely illuminated at the edge of the beacon's ruddy glow.

This one was larger, and of a more fanciful design, with a pair of vestigial wings and a long spike or antenna protruding from its brow. It lay couched, with its head positioned to stare at the beacon.

I fumbled with the panel at the base of the beacon and shut off the light, glad to hide the bizarre sculpture in shadow.

And then I saw the eyes. Blue in iris and sclera, faintly luminescent, gazing fixedly at me out of the darkness.

That was not a statue.

Comments

[Doctor Geagle]

Interesting. I'll be watching.

You're referencing something. I feel like I should know what it is.

[Silver Korr]

Hoo boy that last line.

[TinCan]

1560118

Was it a short story about an astronaut finding statues on the moon, and then a horrible revelation that involves eyes? I didn't consciously try to reference it as I was writing, but your comment jogged my memory: "Forms of Things Unknown" by C.S. Lewis.

Other than that, the name of the hermit's deity was borrowed from Gene Wolfe's New Sun quadrilogy, mainly because I think it sounds cool.

[GordonFreebrony]

Well, that's not creepy at all... Reminds me of weeping angels....

I would hate to be stuck in a place where statues can just appear like that...

Though I suppose they could be a way for luna/NMM to cope with being alone for a thousand years...