The Fox, the Badger, and the Megalodon Shark Tooth (short story).

Read Time:5 Minute, 56 Second

Excerpt:

I can see the flaming Sun—it is spewing red and yellow—I am so close to it. If I reach out, I can almost touch it. It is very different here. It is dead quiet. Too quiet.

‘Am I really living here? It feels so surreal; I have to pinch myself.’

It is the year 2060.

Someone has asked me, ‘What is it like living out here?’

So, I explain: ‘I am five months travelling away from the known terra-firma – we have moved at a rocketing speed to get here. It is freezing cold. The Sun looks enormous from where I stand. I am afraid it will burn me. I have to turn my face away, down. I am out in the open – I feel so exposed.’

Very experienced and smart architects have come up with a couple of ‘house’ ideas, and here I am, living in one of them in this Godforsaken landscape. There is a patch of green here and there – our fruit and veg are covered with domes.The exterior texture of the pod which we live in is rough and contains iron and basalt. It has the same colour as the surface of this place. The houses were created with a massive 3-D printer. When we landed, the three of us watched the large machine print our home right in front of our very eyes. The windows look like square alien eyes – it was installed after the printing was complete. This place doesn’t have a magnetic field – like Earth – to protect it from the rigours of space weather and the Sun’s radiation. The pod and windows are designed to protect us from the damaging rays of the Sun. Specifically, when the Sun flares up in hot spots.

The door resembles the mouth of a Star Wars alien mask. We looked like Space characters in our own extra-terra-suits when we first set foot on this place. Now we have settled into a normal routine. Work-eat-sleep.

My dog – Jason, a daschund – looks like a long hotdog covered in a white wedding suit; we call him a dogs-tronaut. Yip, it is really awkward, he moves slowly in his spacesuit. He fell over in the beginning when he excitedly jumped up onto our legs. He would lie on his back and row with his legs like a beetle that has unexpectedly landed on its back – a long white beetle moving slowly. We make jokes about him all the time. Jason the beetle-dog. Jason the vacuum-bag. And, now that his suit is all brown, we call him dirt-bag. So funny! It is so unusual to have a dog in a spacesuit. He is used to a collar and leash, but now, he is trained to back up into his spacesuit — if he wants to go for a walk. He looks hilarious.

We are out on a short walk today. Jason is right next to me, he is wagging his tail enthusiastically—but nobody sees it. He doesn’t know that no-one can see his tail. But, I know the way his body is shaking – it gives his tail wag away. He appears to be happy. But, is he really happy? I can’t see his eyes, a transparent screen covers his face. He arrived in a white spanking-new-spacesuit. His suit was a brilliant white colour some months ago; however, after all his explorations, it is now a tainted brown. The dust-bag is now a working dog. We don’t have a washing machine here.

The flaming Sun is reflecting on Jason’s visor. It filters the harmful radiation. In front of us – as far as we can see – is a red, dry barren landscape. Brownish red and arid with no water or greenery in sight. The Sun is bright, very bright—it is a different bright. They told us that the Sun’s radiation is deadly. We have to protect ourselves at all times. I miss the warmth of the Sun’s rays on Earth on my body. It made me happy.

Violent wind storms of the past had whipped orange dust into the atmosphere, and it had settled in a myriad of fiery orange hues. The landscape is a combination of dirt, sand and rocks – a deserted relief. As I peer out of my helmet’s visor, I raise my white-gloved hand in front of my face to shield me from the worst of the Sun’s futile glare. Walking in the spacesuit is difficult, it is bulky and uncomfortable. Where there are rocks, my footsteps disappear as if I had not been there at all. My air supply is low – the red light on the side of my visor is flashing – I have to return to the pod to top up.

I am lonely here. I think Jason is alone too. It is so quiet here, not a sound: no birds, no cars, and no neighbour chatter. I can’t even hear the wind. I miss the happy noises of animals and the friendly voices people.

I am hungry — Jason too. Jason is going to be very disappointed in his lunch today. It is the same as yesterday and the day before—synthetic minced meat in a tube – grown in a lab. I am going to try the spinach and potato mash for lunch today or maybe the pasta with tomato paste and synthetic beef. All our food is mashed into large tubes. Some of it has small chunks in it, just to break the monotony of the mash. In fact, all our food is mashed up and stored in tubes. I miss Earth today. I feel so sorry for Jason.

While we were standing outside, about a kilometre away from our pod, something unexpected happened. Jason saw the movement too. Immediately, instinctively, he chased after it.

‘What was that? Was it a shadow?’

I had the shock of my life. What is going on?

“Come back, Jason, Jason!”

Jason can’t hear a thing. We are now both low on oxygen! I decided to run after him. We are getting further away from the pod.

“Jason, Jason!”

“Come back, Jason!”

……………………………… continues.

From the author’s sketchbook (diagram of the tunnel): The ‘burrow’ found on Mars. See the badger fossil against the wall, and the shark tooth on the floor of the burrow. The fox and Jason (the dog) are on the far right hand at the end of the ‘tunnel’ (Watercolours and ink).