Life on Mars?



  Life on Mars?

  An anthropomorphic tale of life and love

  by

  Francis Plestor

  For Barbara, my muse.

  Copyright © Francis Plestor 2012

  All Rights Reserved

  Life on Mars?

  Dorian watched as Sulara cropped the lush green algae that was their prize, and as he did, for the first time he became fully aware of her beauty. He had not always thought of her that way, but today, right now, he felt it in a powerful way. Her litheness, her sinuousness, the gracefulness of her movements, but most of all what he found captivating was the perpetual shyness in her appearance, a demureness that was nothing less than serene.

  “Best join me,” Sulara teased, “or I’ll eat it all.”

  Dorian hesitated, and then slowly began to graze his way toward her.

  “The good stuff is over here,” she called, indicating the darker crop. “If we don’t eat it the others will.”

  He moved nearer, his embarrassment increasing with their proximity. A moment ago he would not have given this situation a second thought, but now, his true feelings having surfaced he felt clumsy and ungainly in her presence.

  Presently, Sulara looked up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong?”

  “Did you hear something?”

  “No nothing.”

  “Well what then?”

  “I’m just feeling a little odd.” He smiled a skewed smile. “Must be something I ate.”

  Sulara eyed him thoughtfully. “I see. Well have some of the good stuff, it might make you feel better.”

  Dorian nodded and edged forward, close enough to munch on the good stuff. It always surprised him how noticeably better the good stuff was. As a youngling his father had taught him to sample the plain, ordinary growth first. It will make you appreciate the quality of the good stuff more and remind you how fortuitous you are to be eating it, he had said. Out of habit Dorian still followed this ritual.

  His father had taught him much.

  Many times, Dorian and Sulara had prospecting on their own in this manner. They followed existing tunnels and occasionally excavated new ones, protected from the coarseness of the marrain by their thick leathery outer layer.

  It was by excavating a new tunnel that they had broken through into this cavern of algae and, as first feeders, they were entitled to feed on the better crop. This algae was darker, richer in minerals and trace elements. It was infinitely superior to the other stuff, but accounted for only a small amount of the entire algae field.

  Scuffles over the good crop were not uncommon, and so it was accepted that the first finders could have as much of the quality fodder as they desired. It grew in distinct patches and it was in such a patch that they both now found themselves gorging.

  “You sure you’re OK?” Sulara persisted. “You’re not feeding with your usual gusto and, if you don’t mind me saying, you look a little pale.”

  Dorian stopped munching and looked up at Sulara. Even now with concern etched into her gaze she looked beautiful. Beautifully troubled over his wellbeing, beautifully poised in unease, and just … yes, achingly beautiful.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Sulara munched some more, then looked up again. “You really do look ill.”

  “Well I’m not. At least not in any ordinary sense.”

  She swallowed another mouthful. “You’re not making sense.”

  He considered that. Sense? What did sense really mean when your heart was inside out? When your thoughts were in a tumble?

  “I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling.”

  Sulara narrowed her eyes and edged towards him.

  “Out with it,” she said. “I can see you’re holding something back.”

  “No. I—”

  “Just say it, silly.”

  Dorian’s throat was suddenly dry. “You’ll laugh.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I don’t want you to laugh.”

  “Laughing isn’t a bad thing. It’s a good thing. Isn’t that what your father used to tell us?”

  “Okay,” he said after a pause. “I am sick. But it’s a different kind of sickness, and I really don’t know if it’s good or bad.”

  Sulara considered that, puzzled, and then her face softened. “Oh,” she said, her tone lower. “I see. At least, I think I see.”

  Dorian flushed.

  “And who is the lucky one, might I ask?”

  Was that disappointment in her voice? He wasn’t sure. He started to speak, then lowered his gaze, his face swollen with colour.

  When he looked up again, he saw that he wasn’t the only one who was embarrassed.

  For a moment, neither of them spoke.

  “That’s just it,” he replied. “That’s why I’m a little off kilter. When I entered the cavern and watched you rush down with such gay abandon to the good stuff here, I paused to take in the view. The lush rolling algae field was a beauty to behold, but my breath was taken away by the beauty of you.”

  If it was possible to look shyer than shy looks normally, then Sulara managed it in that moment. “Don’t be silly Dorian; we’ve known each other since we were younglings. Don’t mess about with me like that, it’s not fair; we’re good friends and a darn good team, let’s not spoil it.”

  Dorian was a little deflated at her response. She was right they had grown up together. As younglings they had wrestled and played. As youngers, under the guidance of his father, they had developed a symbiotic sense of team work that had served them well in their adventures and pursuits. But this was different, this was real, this was a part of becoming older that Dorian had not expected and he knew this was his only chance to tell her and find out if she felt the same. If she did not, he felt it would put a huge wrinkle into their relationship. Why, oh why had he blurted it out; what an idiot, what a stupid fool.

  “Are you serious Dorian?” her words were said carefully, a little trepidation in her voice.

  “More than serious,” he told her. “Certain. As sure as I have ever been, I can’t believe I didn’t realise it before. You have always meant everything to me and now, just the thought of not being with you, generates a horrible dead feeling inside of me.”

  “Oh Dorian, you had better not be teasing me.”

  “Sulara, I’m sorry. I just felt I had to take this chance and tell you. I…I understand if you feel nothing for me and I apologise profoundly if this is a terrible faux pas. If you want, we can put this whole embarrassing episode behind us and I will never mention it again; we can go on as if it had never happened. I am truly sorry if I have offended you; it is the last thing I would ever want to do.”

  Sulara paused now, seemingly fighting to find the correct words for her response. Weighing up the most diplomatic way of rejecting him, he thought, without erecting some insurmountable wall between them.

  “You’re really serious aren’t you?”

  Dorian felt himself go hot with embarrassment. “Completely and utterly,” he said, “and now I feel more than a little foolish.”

  “Dorian, you can’t imagine how long I’ve waited to hear something like this from you. I have been quietly in love with you for ever; I never dared dream that you would actually share my feelings, but there was always hope in my heart.”

  And with that confession, Sulara rushed to Dorian and their bodies entwined in a passionate exchange of emotions. Dorian could feel the heat of her penetrating both of their outer layers. They rolled and fumbled in the algae field, oblivious of time and the world around them.

  Afterwards Dorian felt a little light headed. He was not sure if it was the result of so much emotional intensity or the af
ter effects of too much good stuff.

  “We’d better be getting back.” Sulara’s voice penetrated the fog of ecstasy that had engulfed him.

  “Yeah, we don’t want to miss the squeeze.” Dorian’s mind was racing ahead, thinking of what he would be able to contribute to the squeeze, the discovery of the cavern and his rediscovery of Sulara.

  They made their way back along the same tunnels by which they had come. To Dorian it felt as if he was moving on air. They swept along in perfect harmony, the rush of their emotions speeding them on their way, their bodies brushing against one another as they moved, each contact sent a little shiver of excitement coursing through Dorian’s body and his mind. Previously these innocent comings together would have gone completely unnoticed but now, to him, every nuance of her being was a message and a delight.

  As they approached the cavern in which their squeeze was currently located they felt a small tremble in the marrain. It stopped them in their tracks. They both new what it meant, a cave in, a tunnel collapse and possibly death, should some poor unfortunate sole have been caught in it.

  These collapses happened; the marrain was not a safe place to live. From time to time they would feel the marrain tremble and hope that one of their own had not been caught in a tragedy. At the following squeeze nobody could fully relax until all of their number had been accounted for.

  Recently these disturbances in the marrain had been occurring with an unnerving frequency. It had created a sense of unease throughout the squeeze. So far none of their own had been lost and no cave-ins or collapses had been reported, but lately the