Living Proof

copyright 2005 Johnny Vanderlip

Chapter I (page 2)

Joseph hadn't been to the ship in six months, not since his last "discussion" with Holden, the ship's commander, and Elizabeth Shokley, the ship's chaplain and political officer. At the time, they had made it clear that '…under no circumstances must any information regarding the "alleged" history of Mars and Earth be divulged. What you've been told by the Sirians is only speculation. There is nothing at all in the scriptures to substantiate the Sirian's claims.'

Reaching the top of the ridge above the landing site, Joseph heard the unmistakable sound of the ship's hyper-gravity drive. The winds had picked up again, covering the valley with a heavy blanket of dust, cutting visibility to nine or ten feet at best. The ship was somewhere below. Joseph started down, careful not to slip on any loose gravel or stones. But fearing the worst he quickened his pace, then reaching level ground, he broke into a run.

After thirty feet or so, he tripped on something and fell. The palms of his hands stung and his wrists throbbed from the impact of his fall. Standing up, his first thought was to check his suit to make sure it was still intact. Luckily, the readouts registered normal. He prayed the vials were still intact. No way to check now. Brushing himself off, Joseph looked back to see what had tripped him. At first, it seemed his eyes were playing tricks on him. He took a few steps closer, then stopped. Lying face-up and very dead, was the body of Alex Lathrop, the ship's communications officer.

Lathrop's helmet was a couple of feet from where he lay. His eyes were wide open; his face revealing a mixture of utter desperation and fear. In the center of his forehead, surrounded by scorch marks, was a hole about a half inch in diameter. Not much blood. The intense heat from the laser had cauterized Lathrop's flesh. Joseph spotted a second more severe wound in the center of Alex Lathrop's chest.

A single diagonal burn line about five inches high had sliced through his heart. Whoever killed Lathrop had taken no chances. Joseph's heart was racing. No time to bury Lathrop. He picked up his backpack and Lathrop's laser then raced towards the ship, knowing a killer, or killers, would be waiting . . .

* * *

Elizabeth Shockley was lying wounded on the ship's main deck.

"You fool!" Andrew Holden hissed at her, stepping back to avoid the blood. "What did you expect Lathrop do, just let us take off?"

"He was going to warn Aldus," she gasped. "I tried to stop him." Shockley had spotted Lathrop heading for the airlock. She'd fired at him but missed. Lathrop had tackled her to get her weapon. It fired, wounding her.

"You stupid, fucking fool!" Holden turned and headed for the elevator.

"Andrew, don't leave me here," she pleaded.

Holden glared at her in disgust. "Shit," he said, the elevator door closing. Arriving on the bridge, he sat down and started programming the final launch sequence in the ship's computer. Holden was so busy running a final check of the hyper-gravity drive, that he didn't notice the indicator signaling Joseph Aldus' entry into the ship's airlock.