Episode 4

With heavy thoughts, the astronauts continued their trek. The mechanic’s funeral had set them back at least three hours, forcing them to forgo their midday break.

Thirsty and hungry, the travelers drew in the humid air through their respirators, making it increasingly difficult to breathe.

“Damn it all!” Max exclaimed in frustration. “I’m going to suffocate in this muzzle!”

He threw the mask away from himself.

“I don’t know about you,” he glanced at his companions, “but I’d rather catch a few phantoms along the way than choke on my own sweat.”

Brainy merely shrugged indifferently at the pilot’s antics, and Bohdan, who was growing accustomed to his colleague’s audacity, muttered a quiet curse under his breath. None of the astronauts tried to stop Max from his reckless action, which could have cost him his life. After all, the space code on remote T-431 was little more than a formality—behavioral rules invented by the space agency to maintain the illusion of order in the boundless chaos of the universe.

Another day of exhausting walking was drawing to a close. The huge crimson sun dipped toward the horizon in a farewell bow, wrapping the tops of the copper dunes in a blood-red haze. As the haze spilled into the valley, it seemed as if rivulets of red blood coursed through the dried-up arteries of riverbeds, briefly quenching the long thirst of the scorched land.

“Let’s stop here,” Bohdan suggested as the astronauts reached the top of a sand hill.

“Magnificent view,” Max approached the commander, who was admiring the fiery sky at the edge of a precipice. “I’ve been to many places, but I’ve never seen such a magical sunset. There’s something… magnetic and at the same time—”

He faltered, searching for the word.

“Eerie,” the captain finished.

“Exactly. You feel it too?”

“I feel like my stomach will digest itself if I don’t eat soon.”

Bohdan was not at all inclined for another heartfelt conversation.

“Why don’t you help our engineer gather some dry roots for the fire? I’ll prepare the report for headquarters.”

“Never understood these bureaucrats,” Max muttered as he walked away. “Not only are we risking our lives to recover their damned rover with ‘priceless samples’ of ordinary sand—which there’s plenty of back on Earth—but we also have to report on whether we’re suffering enough on this ridiculous little planet!”

Angrily, the pilot kicked at a clump of tumbleweed that hadn’t fully shed its roots and awkwardly protruded from the sand. The semi-dry plant sparked.

“Has it begun?” thought the pilot. “I shouldn’t have thrown away the respirator.”

He crouched near the bush to examine it more closely.

“Nothing strange,” he muttered to himself. “Must have been my imagination.”

He shrugged and casually snapped off part of the branched stem. A faint current ran through his fingertips.

Max inspected the break carefully and noticed a thin, frayed wire. Though he still struggled to believe his eyes, his hands slowly stripped away the upper layer of the stem, exposing more and more of the metal.

He called to the captain as loudly as he could, but receiving no reply, realized Bohdan had walked too far. The pilot stood, grabbed a few twigs, and ran toward the makeshift camp to report his discovery.

“I need to show you something important!”

Bohdan eyed his panting companion skeptically.

“If it’s some rare rock, better show it to Brainy,” he said without looking up from his writing.

“Hm, Brainy… yesterday he was collecting kindling for the fire, so he couldn’t have missed the wires. But why did he hide it? Seems the professor isn’t on our side,” troubling thoughts formed in Max’s mind.

“We’ll take him with us too.”

The pilot nodded to the scientist, who was returning with a bundle of dry brush.

“Where now?” the clearly tired engineer muttered discontentedly.

“Nearby is a specimen of local flora that will surely interest you,” the lieutenant insisted.

“So much fuss over some thistle,” Bohdan rolled his eyes demonstratively. “Come on, Brainy, I can see he won’t leave you alone otherwise.”

Max led his colleagues to where he had discovered the pseudo-plant. Nevertheless, all attempts to find the elusive tumbleweed were in vain. The travelers wandered the desert, where nothing existed but sand and small stones.

“It has to be somewhere here,” the pilot encouraged again.

“I’m tired of hearing that,” the captain snapped. “Just admit you forgot where you saw the damned thistle, and let’s go eat.”

“I swear that bush was growing right where you’re standing. And more than that—it shocked me with electricity!”

“You know,” Bohdan protested, “that’s even too much for you!”

“Do you think I’m lying?” Max scanned the group.

“Then what do you make of this?”

He pulled from his pocket several twigs he had snapped from the mysterious plant.

“Now I’ll remove the top layer, and you’ll see what this desert is really hiding!”

The dried stick cracked like a match—it was hollow. The lieutenant reached for another, then another, until the captain finally stopped him.

“Enough,” his voice was serious. “I order you to stop immediately!”

“There was definitely a wire inside, I swear!”

The pilot could not come to terms with the lack of proof.

“I did warn you that prolonged exposure without a respirator causes hallucinations,” Brainy remarked slyly.

“This is all your fault! You hid the tumbleweed!”

Max was about to lunge at the professor, but the commander’s strong hand restrained him.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Bohdan could no longer contain his emotions.

“Your behavior shames not only yourself but the entire Space Guard! One more attack on the engineer, and I will be forced to report you for replacement.”