Jared John Bucholz

TREE

The male computer voice interrupted the silence, “Eighty miles until your destination is reached. Continue on a straight course north.”

Neither of them said a word to the other. There was no need to. After eleven years, words were hardly necessary.

The sun was beginning to set to the left of them, and the skyline started to turn into a magnificent shade of reddish purple. In the beginning it had been so alien, so different, and so beautiful. But by now they were more than accustomed to it. Neither of them turned their heads. Their eyes remained focused, glued to the information panel that made up the windshield of their transportation rover.

Ten minutes passed in continuing silence. The computer voice spoke again, “Seventy miles until your destination is reached. Continue on a straight course north.”

The driver suddenly yawned. The passenger glanced at her, and then turned his attention back towards the information panel. He had noticed a few small creases under her eyes. He then thought to himself about how her hair had grown long. A minute passed before he asked, “I thought you said you slept well last night.”

She replied, “I did.”

Another minute passed.

“Are you receiving enough oxygen?”

Without looking at her monitor, she replied, “I am.”

Silence ensued. The only sound was the rhythmic purr of the rover's electronic engine. As its wheels gently rolled over the brown-orange soil, he then yawned to such an extent that it brought tears to his eyes.

She smiled. He noticed the smile, and then chuckled, “I guess they're right.”

Without looking at him, she asked, “About what?”

“It's contagious.”

She was still smiling, and this made him glad. The computer voice relayed its message, “Sixty miles until your destination is reached. Continue on a straight course north.”

The smile left, she yelled out, “For the love of all that is wholesome, shut up! You stupid piece of...”

There was quiet again, until he asked her, “You know I can turn it off if you want me to. We might miss something, but I can if you want me to?”

She didn't answer right away. She didn't look at him either when she did answer, “I'm sorry.”

The computer voice spoke, “I've noticed an increase in heart rate. Should I notify home base?”

The man answered, “No.”

“Teddy, please. Turn it off. I don't care if we miss anything.”

He paused for just a moment. She hadn't called him Teddy in a long time. As he started to punch away at the small keyboard on his left wrist, she continued, “It's not like there's anything to miss anyway.”

The computer voice again spoke, “Fifty miles until your destination...”

It never finished. The command had been completed.

Thirty minutes came and went in silence. Each knew, according to their indicators, that they were exactly twenty miles, or twenty minutes, from their checkpoint. But something went wrong.

The engine's purr made an abnormal sound, like metal grinding into metal. Both of them felt it. Immediately Teddy turned the computer back on. The moment he did, the rover came to a stop. But before the computer fully rebooted, it turned off.

He sighed, “We better put on our masks.”

She complied, and afterward, he climbed out of the rover to inspect the problem.

By now the sun was gone. The stars were out in an abundance that no human located on earth had ever seen. It didn't take long for him to figure out the problem. He climbed back into the rover.

“I'm not sure how it happened. There's a small wire that conducts...”

She interrupted him with a sighing statement, “I'm not being rude. But you know I don't understand all of that. I'm the biologist. Can you fix it?”

“Yes. But the parts are at home.”

“We have to walk back?”

“Yes. How much oxygen do you have?”

She looked down at the monitor on her right wrist, “Over four days worth.”

He smiled, “Good. I have just about the same. It's about a twenty hour walk.”

Without a word, she climbed out of the rover and began to walk. He followed her.

The terrain of the particular side of the planet was entirely devoid of landscape. Flat ground continued on and on seemingly forever. Upon their arrival to the planet, they had wondered what the higher ups had been thinking of when placing them there. Hardly a hill even existed, but this at least made for easy walking in the moment.

Three hours passed. Only their breathing and thoughts distracted them from the loose dirt beneath their feet. Neither had said a word before she asked, “Have you had any water?”

He answered, “No.”

“You really should drink something. Here let's take a break, and you can drink some water.”

“Are you tired?”

“No, just tired of walking. I want to sit down for a moment.”

She didn't sit, but laid down with her face directed towards the stars. He did the same, knowing full well how uncomfortable it was to be in a sitting position in their suits. He noticed a shooting star. It was common place, and not long after another streaked across the sky.

She spoke, “You know, I hate it that you call it home.”

He knew she was talking about their outpost, “I'm just trying to make the best out of something.”

“I know, but it's not our home.”

“It is for now.”

“It'll never be our home.”

He didn't know what to say to this, so he didn't say anything.

She quickly stood to her feet. He couldn't tell because of her mask, but her gaze was still directed above into the starry darkness. Soon, she started to walk again. He waited for a moment, watching her, before he pushed himself up and followed.

Without turning around, she started to talk, “I miss everything. All of it. I hate this planet. I miss the mountains. I miss all the green. I miss...”

She never finished. It didn't matter though. He knew what she was going to say by the pain in her voice. He tried to smile while saying, “But we have our garden. It's green. You're the first person ever to establish an earth like environment on...”

She interrupted, “I don't care, Theodore.”

He quickened his pace and caught up to her, “This is what you wanted though. Wasn't it?”

“I thought I did.”

There was a pause. He could hear her breathing increase through the sound receptor connected to her mask. She wouldn't look at him.

“I was wrong.”

“Please. Don't say that. Think of all you've done. There's been so much accomplished. Your work has been monumental. When I met you I knew you wanted to do this. I cared more about...”

“Theodore, stop.”

She was on the verge of tears, “It was only supposed to be for five years.”

“I know. I know. But we only have four months left. Then we'll leave this lifeless rock, and a year later, Earth. Our home will be there waiting for us. The truck, my books, your green house, our bikes, the creak...”

“...Joel.”

She immediately cried out, “He'll be thirteen when we get home. I've seen him grow up on a screen, a stupid, stupid screen. I'd trade all of this. All of it!”

He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, encumbered by his suit, “I would too, Lizzie. I would too.”

She let herself be held for a moment, before gently pushing him away. Composure came and then left again, as she looked at him.

There was a memory. She had refused to enter the exploration department unless he was able to join it with her. They were partners for life. Luckily the higher ups thought of it as a superb idea; a genius with her more than ample enough engineer husband sent into space together for biological research. He had never wanted to leave the planet though. She had convinced him. But after she had become unexpectedly pregnant, nothing could be done. There had been too much preparation, too many promises, and too much money spent. She didn't have the option to stay anymore, and in his mind this meant he didn't have the option either. She remembered him standing at the nursery window, watching their son play with a few toy blocks an hour before they left.

They started to walk again.

Five hours before sunrise they stopped to sleep. It was uncomfortable, and both slept barely more than two hours. Their water, and liquid food, levels were still high, and after they woke and replenished themselves, they were off again.

The minutes turned to hours, which turned into another sunset. They were close now. They went to sleep again a little earlier this time around, knowing full well that the next day they would arrive back at the outpost. Then they would saddle up the secondary rover and make their way back out into the lifeless planet.

The sun was bright. Their suits had a built in temperate control, and they were working at full capacity. Still, it was hot. He could feel the sweat beads collecting on his forehead. There was no way to brush them aside, and this always irritated him. Occasionally he would shake his head back and forth hoping the drop would be large enough so the motion would propel it into the material that made up his head cover. The head cover had been designed to whisk away moisture, and it did it’s job quite well. They had been trained to ignore the sweat, but he had not taken the training exercise seriously.

After one of these irritated shaking attempts, he was a little disoriented. She noticed he had stopped, and then noticed his levels on her monitor.

“You need to drink more water.”

“Why? So I can sweat more.”

“Theodore. So you can keep living.”

She walked back towards him, “Let's take a break.”

“I don't need a break.”

“Well I want one.”

His irritability increased with her demanding tone of voice. He was hungry too, after lasting for three days on liquid food. She was too, but again she had taken this training more seriously than he had. He wanted solid food, which was for the most part the reason he didn't want to stop. All he could think about was carrots, or maybe even a nice piece of broccoli, anything but the almost solid liquid.

He sighed and turned around so he didn't have to look at her. Then he saw something. At first he thought it was just exhaustion playing trick with his eyes. He turned back around. She was laying down staring up into the pinkish sky.

He sat down, drank some water, and forced himself to drink the liquid food. She had been right, he felt better, however he didn't say this to her. After ten minutes they both got back up. Curiosity intrigued him to turn around once more. It was still there; a tiny darkened blip against the brown-orange soil.

“Hey, Lizzie? Do you see that?”

She turned around and looked at him, “What?”

“Over there. Um, turn about twenty seven degrees to your left.”

She saw it too. She didn't say anything.

He asked again, “Do you see it?”

She was silent.

“Am I...”

“I see it.”

“Good. I'm not nuts.”

They both padded away at their wrist keyboard to increase the visual abilities of their masks. It was still too far off. However, it definitely wasn't normal for the landscape.

“Should we investigate?”

She turned towards him, “How much oxygen do you have left?”

He checked, “Over three days left, and then reserves.”

“Me too.”

“How far is it?”

He computed a quick calculation, “We need to walk for about an hour to get a better view. It would take us closer to four hours to reach it.”

“Why didn't the drones pick up on it? We're not that far from the outpost.”

He shook his head, “I don't know, sometimes there are problems. Maybe it's just a natural build up of sand.”

She looked at him and said rather rhetorically, “Have we ever seen something like a sand build up?”

He answered dryly, “No.”

“Have we ever seen anything?”

“No.”

“We should check it out.”

Within an hour they had a better view of it.

“It can't be.”

“It looks like it.”

“It can't be.”

“I know. I mean...”

“It doesn't make any sense. Can we increase the masks sight anymore?”

“No. We have to keep walking.”

“This is absurd.”

“Maybe.”

As they started to walk she asked, “What do you mean, maybe?”

He answered, “Well, it's unlikely that both of us, if experiencing the same levels of fatigue would create in our minds the exact same mirage. Maybe we had an accident and we’re both running out of oxygen. Maybe we’re trapped in the rover somewhere without water. Maybe we never made it to this terrible planet. Reality is very...strange.”

“Theodore. Stop.”

“Okay. But I'm with you. I don't believe what I'm seeing. So what should I believe?”

She didn't answer him, but kept walking. The action in itself was her answer.

Another hour passed. It was clear now. There was no doubt in their minds.

Standing in the middle of the vast emptiness of the barren planet was a tree. It wasn't large, but it wasn't a bush or a shrub. It was definitely a tree. Both of them grew so excited upon the realization that their rate of walking increased to the point that within an hour and thirty minutes they were standing in front of it.

They began to discuss the multiple implications surrounding a tree in the environment. An alien plant, how incredible. What did it live on? How did it come about? It had to be an indicator towards other life, right? But within forty feet of the tree, she recognized it.

The sensation was odd, for she remembered her grandmother's trees. They had lined a walkway leading up to the decrepit stone house. This was the same type of tree. The bark of the tree was a dark shade of red, and its leaves were a darker red. It was even blooming dark pinkish flower petals. But there was nothing alien about the tree besides its color.

She puzzlingly stated out loud, “It's a dogwood.”

“I don't understand.”

She replied, “What's there to understand? It's as simple as that. It's a dogwood, and if it's not, it looks exactly like one.”

The initial confusion drifted into wonder. She didn't have any of the tools she needed for sampling. But this didn't prevent her from carefully digging with her gloved hands into the brown-orange soil.

While she went about doing this, he stood there talking out loud to both himself and her. She soon found a root. It looked the same as any other would have on earth.

She laughed, “Teddy, you're just standing there. Why don't you help me?”

He quickly fell to his knees, “I guess that's why you're the one with the six degrees. I'd just stand around all day talking. What should I be doing?”

“Um...I don't really know. I guess I'm seeing if...I don't really know. This is rather unprecedented.”

They continued maneuvering around on their knees, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing was out of the ordinary, besides the tree's presence on a lifeless planet of course. Smiles were on both of their faces. Their conversation was light and pleasant. An idea popped into his head.

“What should we call it?”

With no attached emotion, she answered immediately, “Joel.”

His smile grew a little serious, but still remained, “Yes. That's perfect.”

There was a silence, before he suddenly asked out loud, “Do you remember how long it took us to think of a name?”

Her smile returned, “From the first minute we found out, until twenty minutes after his birth.”

He stated jokingly, “You would think people of our pedigree would have been quicker to the draw.”

She laughed and looked at him, “Quick to the draw? Who are you?”

He turned his head from her gaze and exclaimed, “I can't believe I've yet to start recording everything. That’s my job description right? Cameraman.”

It didn't trigger with her at first. But as she saw him reach with his left hand to the keypad, in order to activate the recording devices of their suits, she yelled out, “No!”

The abruptness and severity of her voice caused him to stop. Initially, he felt she had found something of negative consequence. However, she was looking at him, not at the ground, not at the tree.

He lowered his hands and asked, “What's wrong?”

“Teddy, if we record this, it'll only take a week to get back to command center.”

“Yes?”

“The fuel is only three months away from arriving...”

He interrupted, “We're only three months, three weeks, and three days away from leaving.”

She continued, “You know if they find out about this, they'd want more information, more observation. I know they would send an army of researchers. It would take years for them to get here.”

She stopped. He finished her thought, “It would be years before we would be able to leave.”

“Yes. We'd have to stay here.”

She stood to her feet, while saying, “It'd be years before we get to see Joel.”

“This would be the greatest discovery humanity has ever known. A century of planetary exploration culminating into this.”

“I’m aware.”

He sighed again.

She asked out loud, “Teddy, is it selfish, us not reporting it?”

“Yes.”

“Is it warranted, us not reporting it?”

He looked at the tree, thought of its newly given name, and then answered, staring at her, “Yes. I think it is.”

Expounding on his answer, “To be a part of history...or to be a piece of our son's life. Our son, who has only known his parents through week old video feeds. It's not fair to him, but is it fair to the world? You said it yesterday. You would trade all of it...but that was before this.”

His hands pointed out in the direction of the tree.

“Teddy...”

“Yes.”

“What's more important? Our duty to our son, or to...”

He interrupted her by laughing out, “We're being so serious. This is our job. If I was in a factory building rovers...I wouldn't have a problem giving it up for Joel.”

She replied, “It's not the same thing.”

He sighed, “Maybe it is.”

He asked her, “Here you go. What's more important, our son's well being or the world's...I don't even know what this would do for the world.”

She answered, “Knowledge?”

“But is that more important than our son's life?”

“Maybe he'd be fine without us.”

There was a moment of silence, before she continued, “I can't believe I said that.”

He looked at the tree, and stated uneasily, “Even if not, we wouldn’t be fine without him. But we don't need to make a decision now. We have a little bit of time to decide.”

She turned around and stared off into the brown-orange emptiness, “All my life I wanted to study...life. I thought it would...I don't even know. And here I am with something that I thought I always wanted. I thought it would be worth it. The time spent...”

She walked up towards the tree and rested her hand on it.

“Teddy, it's not worth it.”

He asked, “So what are we more responsible for? Our son, our ambitions, or to the world and its ambition?”

She smiled, “When you put it like that, it's easy.”

He smiled, “I guess your right.”

“Teddy...”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“I said I would travel to Abell 1689 and back for you. I meant it.”

“This was a mistake.”

He walked over, reached out and touched her shoulder in consolation, “It wasn't at all.”

She looked at him and then looked away, “Whether it was or not, at least we're going home.”

He laughed, “Home! I'm going to see my son! Then I'm going to dig up Augustus and get him cloned. I loved that dog.”

She turned her back to the tree and started to walk off. He followed. She was contemplative, and he remained silent. Her head stayed focused on the landscape in front of her. A few minutes passed, before she stated, “I'm going fill our yard with dogwoods.”