Cohesion: Chapter Eight

It was a grueling ten-hour hike back to base camp. The threat of their suits losing power pushed them past the point where their minds begged them to take a break, until they reached a kind of numbness that allowed them only to walk, nothing more. Their bodies had long since stopped sending pain signals in an attempt to demand rest, instead settling into a dull ache that could be ignored.

In the last hour of their hike, the environmental controls automatically shut off to preserve power, leaving them to walk in the intense cold of the caverns. Soon after, their navigation shut down, forcing them to find their way back to camp by memory. Eventually, only life support remained on.

With only minutes to spare, they finally arrived at camp, shivering from the cold and exhausted—but alive.

They entered the airlock of their base, and the computer automatically activated the hazard wash to remove any corrosive residue from the gases. They were so tired that the force of the pressurized air and water hitting their suits forced them to brace against the sides of the airlock to keep from falling. But soon, it was over; the airlock pressurized, and they entered their base.

It was all Ludwig could do to get his helmet off before he collapsed onto his bunk.

As the exhaustion finally released into his system, so did the pain as his muscles slowly loosened up. He groaned, hoping he hadn’t strained anything from the intense effort of the past two days. Too exhausted to ask the computer to administer some pain reliever, Ludwig thought he heard a quiet sob from his companion over the low hum of their base’s life support operations. It had been hours since they’d last spoken and Ludwig had no desire to change that as he fell asleep.

After waking from a bad dream he couldn’t remember, Ludwig opened his eyes. His pillow was slightly damp—apparently, he’d been sweating in his sleep. He let out a long breath, staring at the wall of their pod. It was nearly pitch-dark inside; they’d long ago put black tape over any machine lights that shined at night. In the pure dark of these caverns, those tiny LEDs had felt like beacons. Still, it wasn’t completely dark in the pod; even screens in “night mode” cast a faint glow.

Relieved that Djawadi wasn’t sobbing anymore, Ludwig closed his eyes, hoping to drift back to sleep. But a familiar feeling crept up on him, the one that lingers after a bad dream—the sense that, despite knowing there are no monsters, he should still check for danger. He tried to ignore it. But the more he resisted, the sharper the feeling grew, the edge of unease creeping closer as he hovered on the brink of sleep. Realizing he was holding his breath, Ludwig finally decided to look around.

He scanned the pod, trying not to move his head much as he did, because everyone knows that when you’re checking for monsters, you’re only in danger if they notice you noticing them. That, at least, was the rule he’d decided on as a kid. But even with the faint ambient light in the pod, Ludwig couldn’t see anything in the darkness.

But then he saw slight movement at the foot of his bed. His eyes narrowed. He was once again holding his breath. It was dark enough that he couldn’t be entirely sure, but he was fairly certain he could see the silhouette of Djawadi standing over him.

Ludwig’s heart pounded. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the silhouette, wondering if Djawadi had noticed he was awake.

Feeling tense, Ludwig tried to think of any possible reason why Djawadi would be watching him in his sleep. What reason could he have for keeping those utility knives under his pillow? Once again, Ludwig felt not just afraid, but suspended in a surreal disbelief. He kept questioning himself, wondering if this was even happening. That doubt in his senses held him still, kept him from doing anything to change the situation. For the second time in the past twenty-four hours, Ludwig found himself completely frozen in fear.

Maybe he was still dreaming?

Or was he actually in danger? But why? They’d had their disagreements, but had Ludwig done anything that would cause Djawadi to resort to violence? Real violence—not like their scuffles before. And if he was feeling violent, what was Ludwig even supposed to do? The rules stated that in situations like this, you should talk to your commanding officer, report issues with your cohesion, and potentially get a new assignment. But there was no commanding officer for hundreds of kilometers, and no way to contact them even if they wanted to.

They were stuck together.

As the night wore on, Ludwig lay with his eyes half-open, staring at the wall, fully aware that Djawadi was watching him in the darkness. He’d tried to convince himself this was all his imagination, but then he’d heard his partner adjust his footing—and the sound had come from the foot of his cot, not from where Djawadi should have been in bed.

Ludwig considered pretending to wake up, feigning ignorance, and asking what his partner was doing. No, he didn’t dare move. He had zero desire to find out what might happen if he did.

His only option was to lie there, feeling exposed and powerless. Something was clearly wrong with Djawadi, and Ludwig would have to find a way to deal with it—or risk both the mission and his life.

It felt like hours as Ludwig lay there, trying to stay awake, waiting for any sign that his partner had gone back to bed. He kept his eyes closed but remained fully alert, occasionally cracking them open to see that silhouette still standing at the end of his cot. But exhaustion finally took hold, and Ludwig drifted into sleep.

Despite his exhaustion, Ludwig woke up an hour before their alarm was set to go off. Hoping he might get back to sleep, he was relieved to see that Djawadi was no longer standing over him but sitting at the edge of his own cot, head cradled in his hands. Ludwig made no indication he was awake, wondering when his partner had stopped watching him—or if any of that had even happened. He couldn’t rule out that it had all been just a dream. He hoped it had.            But in that moment, Djawadi was clearly in distress, and it was against the rules for Ludwig to ignore it. All he felt, though, was anger at his companion. He knew it wasn’t a kind response, but he was just so tired. Tired from yesterday, from all the hiking, and, increasingly, tired of Djawadi. It would be a relief when this was finally over.

Despite his anger, Ludwig knew he should say something. Let Djawadi know he was awake and could offer some kind of support if needed.

Instead, Ludwig closed his eyes, hoping for sleep. He stopped himself from clenching his jaw, letting his shoulders relax as he exhaled slowly through his nose.

“Doctor?” Djawadi’s voice whispered quietly in their pod.

Ludwig’s shoulders tensed right back up, frustrated that he had somehow alerted his partner to his wakefulness. He considered ignoring him and pretending to be asleep.

“Can we talk, Doctor?” Djawadi whispered, a slight tremor in his voice.

Ludwig paused, considering again if he should just ignore him. Instead, he kept his eyes closed and replied, “We still have an hour before we need to be up. We should really sleep, Doctor.”

“Please, we need to talk.”

Fine.

“What’s wrong?” Ludwig asked, his back still to Djawadi as he stared at the wall.

“Something’s really wrong with me,” Djawadi said. “I feel like I’m losing it. It’s so stupid, but I—I’ve started feeling claustrophobic down here. Between our cohesion and my last one, I’ve been down here for nearly two months. But I can’t do it. Not anymore. The panic just builds and builds, and I can’t deal with it. I’m going to fuck everything up.”

“Doctor,” Djawadi continued. “Can we go to the surface today and request an emergency transfer? You can get a new cohesion partner to help you finish up. I know we only have a week left, but I really don’t think I can spend another night down here.”

Djawadi’s request hung in the air. After a few seconds, Ludwig turned in his cot to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling of their pod instead of keeping his back to Djawadi. He didn’t know what to say, so he just told the truth: “We can’t.”

“We can’t?”

Ludwig pressed his knuckles to his forehead, trying to relieve some of the pressure, “Look, there’s—”

“No, listen,” Djawadi cut him off, his voice no longer a whisper from the anger and desperation. “I know in your mind I haven’t done a lot to earn your trust. Fine, we go about things differently. But when I say I’m worried I’m going to fuck everything up, I need you to believe me.”

Ludwig opened his mouth to speak.

“I’ve been having dreams where I kill you,” Djawadi said.

A knot tightened in Ludwig’s gut.

“They feel so real that sometimes I can’t tell if I’ve woken up, even hours later. Yesterday, when I disappeared at Beta Site? I think I was sleepwalking, but in that dream? I’d pushed you down the shaft and was on my way back when you woke me up.

“But even before that night, I’ve been getting more and more paranoid,” Djawadi continued. “Paranoid that you somehow know how much I’ve thought about killing you. Or that you’re trying to kill me, and I’ll have to defend myself.”

Ludwig didn’t know how to respond. In shock, he stared up at the ceiling.

“Do you see why we have to transfer?” Djawadi asked. “I’m worried I’ll ruin everything if we don’t. That something will happen, and I’ll do something to you or to myself and then it’ll ruin everything. I don’t want to be responsible for killing everyone on this planet before we’ve even had a fighting chance at a colony.”

Djawadi stopped talking. His breathing was hard and fast, verging on hyperventilation. But after a moment, he managed to control it. It was still labored and uneasy, but he was calming down.

Ludwig took a deep breath. “Even if we went to the surface, we couldn’t get help if we tried.” His voice sounded quiet in the pod compared to Djawadi’s. “Before we started the mission, Commander Cernan told me the communications team went dark before setting up long-range comms. He was heading there after dropping us off to check it out.”

Djawadi didn’t say anything, so Ludwig continued, “He warned me things were going wrong—not just with comms, but in several areas. If we couldn’t get geopower up by the end of our cohesion cycle, we wouldn’t be able to power the rovers in time to pick up the next supply drop. And if we can’t do that, we all starve and die.”

Ludwig shook his head. Saying it out loud was like admitting the impossibility of their situation. It was sobering to remember just how high the stakes were. “We’re on our own, Doctor.”

Djawadi didn’t respond—he only let out a shaky, frustrated exhale. Ludwig thought he heard him mutter a string of swear words.

“Let’s take the day off,” Ludwig said. He wasn’t sure they could spare the time, but he also wasn’t sure he could trust Djawadi to keep going without a break. “We’ve made it this far—we can last another week, right?”

It took a moment, but Djawadi finally croaked out a quiet, “Sure.”

Ludwig glanced over to see his partner turn away from him in his cot. He did the same, wondering if he should try to get any more sleep before the alarm went off.

But once his back was turned to Djawadi, the supportive feelings he’d had—wanting him to be okay and not feel so overwhelmed—shifted into paranoia. So his partner was having vivid dreams about killing him. That certainly explained a lot about his behavior, and even accounted for the strange feelings of fear Ludwig had been having lately.

“Hey, Doctor?” Ludwig asked.

“Hmm?” Djawadi responded from across the pod.

“They’re just dreams, though, right? Where you thought about killing me?”

“Of course,” Djawadi said. “Just in my dreams.”

Just in my dreams. Ludwig shuddered, pushing down the primal fear knotted in his gut. That soul-crushing loneliness from before crept back. It was terrifying, knowing how alone they were in this together.