Quietly hard rains fell, dirty droplets spilling from distant, smoggy clouds down onto the concrete

hell. Jack tried his best to shield the flowers from the rain, acidic as it was. He ran across the
street, full sprint. The automated cars didn’t detect pedestrians, and it was doubtful that the
drivers cared. Somewhere, in the distance, lightning struck a building and thunder rumbled. A
moody last day on earth. It took him an embarrassing amount of time to rush across all ten
lanes, though he did stop a few times to avoid becoming roadkill. He huffed and puffed under an
awning, the old, worn LED’s displaying a sad sign to a bar on its last days. He waited to catch
his breath, tasting the corrosive shit, and for once kind of appreciating it in its own screwed up
way. He steeled himself, and tried to make the roses look nice. One last confrontation, as soon
as he opened the door.

“Hey, is Edith in?” The anxiety was audible in Jack's voice. His left hand dropped to his
pocket, something much more important than crummy flowers was in there.

“Upstairs, who’s asking?” The bartender replied, not even looking up, staring at what
must be a new, metal left hand.

“Jack, tell her it's important.”

“I’m real sure it is buddy.”

It took an almost terrifying amount of time before she opened a battered door. Her gaze
was just as hard as the last time Jack had seen her, but her long black hair and gorgeous green
eyes were also the same. Edith had a way of getting to Jack, under his skin, and his normally
cool psyche. In a different place, in a kinder time, it might have even been called love. But this
wasn’t the place or the time.

“Get the hell out of here Jack.”

“This is my last day on earth.”

“The law finally caught up with your slimy ass?”

“Not the way you think. I’ve been given a deal. A colony on Mars needs a constable who
knows how to use a gun. I even get paid 60,000 dollars a week. Every week I live I get paid, and
if I can survive two years I walk a free man.”

“Then you’re already dead. Go brag about making a living wage to someone else.”

“I know that, and I’m not here to brag Edith.” Jack pulled the small, beige box out.

“This chip syncs with one biosignature, any one, doesn’t matter. But it also receives my
pay. I won’t need it, if they gave a criminal like me that I’m already dead. I’ll hold out as long as I
can, and you get out. It’s not a scam either, it has 60k on it already as my signing bonus”
 “Why would you do that for me?” Edith asked, her voice finally cracking and letting
emotions out of the cold facade.

“Because after everything, I truly do love you.”

For a second too long Edith stared into his eyes, then she looked away as Jack placed
the box in her hand. He looked back into those deep green eyes, and just for a second wished it
could have gone any other way. Then he turned away. Just before he reached the door Edith
called out.

“Jack, please keep in touch, and if you get back, come see me okay?”

He smiled a sad, bittersweet smile before he gently said; “Okay Edith. Talk soon.”

Jack stepped out the door, and the fed were already waiting. He knew what was about to
happen as they sedated him.

As an unconscious Jack was hauled into the car, two agents shared a smoke. One took
a long drag before asking; "How long do you give this one?"

"Our time or his?" Replied the second agent.

"Our time obviously."

"Three days."
 Chapter 2

“We really should inspect that Jack.” Arturo said with a hint of concern in his voice

“Why, why would we even think about that. Have you not seen any horror movies?”

“We need to know why this is here, how it got here.”

“Oh yea, sure, Jack and Arturo dive into the hole in mars because it looks man made.
Really brilliant idea. If this cave was created by people, we’d better leave them alone. If it's
naturally occurring and we missed it, then it's nothing remarkable, we can tell the archaeologist
and the geologist, god knows those two have been desperate to do something the entire time
I’ve been here.”

“You’d have to contact X and get them clearance, and even so, you’d still have to go with
them, you’re still going in the cave.”

“Spares me another few days out of the mars cave and more likely to stay alive, fine by
me.”

“You’re as stubborn as a porn addict, you know that?”

“And you’re as willing to leap into risk as a crypto bro presented with a ponzi scheme.”

“Good one you bastard. How much longer until that dust storm hits?”

“Reader says half an hour, but you know how that piece of shit is.”

“Yea. Well the lines’ fixed, we’d better get in the transport.”

Arturo and Jack each got on their respective sides of autonomous transport. Jack had no
clue what Arturo was doing on his side, but he took a few deep breaths as it started to roll and
then drive. It had been a peaceful three weeks on mars. Too peaceful, something was off. Jack,
as constable, was expected to supervise any and all extra habitable ventures, mars walks
basically. He was also to receive complaints, enforce the law, and help repairs. So far there
were no crimes or any reason to suspect them. There had been a few things broken outside the
base, so he had spent a lot of time with Arturo, the lead mechanic who was strangely enough,
also a convict. Over the span of a few weeks, Jack and Arturo had nearly died a few times, but
they were just from accidents. It didn’t make any sense, Jack was on death row, why would the
courts send him here when the trick to staying alive was to stay cautious? Maybe it was some
kind of game, like that cave. Arturo had been here for four weeks, but in all of his studying of the
maps he hadn’t seen anything that indicated the cave being there. What if someone was
watching through the seemingly millions of cameras for entertainment? It wasn’t like convicts
were in any way valuable. But the few hundred people who weren’t doing the risky jobs weren’t
convicts, so that couldn’t be it. Interrupting his thought, the transport stopped. Jack could see on
the display screens that the transport was inside the habitable zone, and he could also see that
it had stopped for pedestrians. He waited a moment before opening the door to see what the
holdup was.

Outside, if you could really call it that, was a group of people staring at the transport.
Jack eyed them for a moment. They all seemed familiar enough, except for one man with a
mustache and an eyepatch. Jack stared back at them expectantly. This was odd to say the
least, but waiting was the only way to tell what the hell they were doing. So they stared, and
stared. Jack was particularly drawn to the man, he was unfamiliar. The long coat of his would be
perfect for hiding a holster, Jack had used the same trick on earth. The way the man's right
hand stayed completely stationary at his hip was another giveaway. He was a gunslinger, and
Jack humored his stance. Letting his left hand slip down, just above his holster. The stranger
saw this, and uttered his first words;

“You’re dead.”

Jack watched the stranger's hand brush away the coat, and Jack grabbed his own gun.
Almost too fast the man raised his gun to eye level. Rookie mistake though, eye level took too
long. Jack fired from the hip. The stranger staggered, and Jack shot again. Like a cord had
been cut the stranger fell.

At once Jack was jolted awake by a sudden inability to breathe. The transport had
stopped, he wasn’t in the head. Sirens wailed and shrieked as every screen warned of a loss of
oxygen. Still choking, he reached for an oxygen helmet and forced it on. He breathed deep as
he threw the doors open to check on Arturo. Arturo had already left, mask on, and was at the
front end, rushing towards Jack's door.

“What the hell was that?” Jack asked.

“No clue, looks like a sealant failure at the engine bay.”

“Fuck, any way we get this thing running again or are we walking?”

“Only a few hundred yards out, we’re better off walking and recovering this junk once the
dust storm is over.”

The walk was long enough for Jack to enjoy the shit freeze dried coffee once they were
“home”. As Jack did his paperwork he heard a knocking on his office door.

“Come in.”

Arturo entered the room, bearing a gift of cookies. He set them down and said
 “Sorry to interrupt your very important paperwork, just wanted to talk to someone who
doesn’t feel like a cardboard cut out.”

“I get that. They’re a weird bunch here. No hobbies, no humor, they just do their jobs and
stare.”

“There's something really off about this whole thing Jack.”

“Maybe they don’t like two criminals in positions of power.”

“Yea I doubt they do, but why are they in power? The federal government catches me
making gas cars, and catches you, a famed gunslinger when guns are a death sentence to
have, and they send us to be leaders at a high risk, high cost operation to explore and terraform
mars?”

“Everyone who’s been here before us died, and not very easily. Of course they have
expendable people to do these jobs.”

“Sure, with supervision. Jack, this is going to sound absolutely insane, but I don’t think
those are really people out there.”

“You’re right, it does sound insane.”

“Think about it man. Criminals leading machines is fine, and that would be why they are
the way they are.”

“I guess it's possible, weirder has happened. I need to write to Edith though, and let her
know I’m fine.”

“Your girl? Yea, I hope you make it long enough to see her again Jack.”

“Me too. Don’t let one of those robots get you on the way to bed, Arturo.”

“Real funny bud.”

 Chapter 3

"She doesn't want you son, don't get weird."

"Who said anything about weird? Am I being weird?"

"Not yet, but the last thing we need is it getting weird, we're here to do a job."

"It's not going to get weird. She's not Edith, she can't be, and I won't settle for less."

"Yea, well the usually stone cold sarcastic Jackie boy willingly hanging around someone
a lot and having something nice to say sure raises a few red flags."

"Maybe I'm warming up Don, you don't know."

"Maybe hell is cooling off Jack."

"You're a real comedian Don, I don't get why you aren't on stage."

"I got involved with the wrong form of mafia money, now help me with this map boy."

Planning a robbery in the modern era required an absolutely absurd amount of

knowledge and foresight. People who could pull off multiple attacks were regarded as wizards.
Only a spell could have made so much luck, or some weird thing Don had a habit of saying.
Jack stared at the map of the bank. Five guns, and hopefully a 900 million dollar score. The plan
seemed solid enough. EMP's to bring down the local grid, carry hardened battery packs to open
the doors they needed. Maybe an hour until the feds were onto them, but enough to load the
cash and go. From there, Jack didn't really know what he was going to do. Don hoped to retire.
Dixie hoped to pay off family debt. The other guns had no goals, they were just machines.

"Anything to say at all Jack?" Don asked impatiently

"Nah. Seems like a solid plan."

"Good. Grab Dixie, we're going."

Jack did just that, grabbing his hat on the way. It was a tacky hat, something three
centuries out of style. Even though the era of cowboys was long gone, the goofy hats remained,
and one was a birthday present from Edith. Even though they were done, Jack still wanted to
carry a small piece of them with him. A good luck charm, or more likely a cursed object.

Jack sprung awake to the sensation he was being watched. He tried to rub the memory
from his sleepy eyes. The events of that night were best left there, firmly. He looked around, still
a bit uneasy, but unable to find anything out of the normal. The clock read 6:40 AM, earlier than
Jack's normal alarm of seven, but Jack wrote it off as nerves and went to get breakfast.

At seven as the alarm started to ring, so did the doorbell. Jack ignored his alarm clocks
pleas and went to the front door, opening it to see the postman.

"Delivery from earth, just need you to sign here." The postman said, his tone a little too
bright, his gaze lingering much too long

Jack signed the paper and took the parcel, and said "Thanks" as he turned and went to
close the door.

The postman, clearly having a different idea, jammed his foot in the door.
"Do you really think you'll ever see her again Jack?"

Jack turned back, surprised and asked; "What?"

"Do you really think you're going to live long enough to see Edith again?"

"Where did you hear that name?"

"You, constable. Sound carries you know?"

Jack stared at the postman, and the post stared back, before raising his head, gesturing
for the alarm.

"Better fix the clock Jack. Time isn't right here."

Once again Jack sprung awake, the alarm screeching. He took a shaky breath and
looked around, the parcel menacingly laying on the counter. Looking at the clock, it was 7:02,
which couldn't have been right. Nervously Jack got up, inching towards the package. Written on
it was: For Jack. He stared at it before opening the box. In it lay his hat, and a tag that Jack
gingerly picked up.

Dear Jack,
I haven't been receiving any messages from you, but I guess I can't send or receive
extraplanetary messages. But I can send traditional mail. This tag is supposed to be describing
the hat, but you already know it, it's just like the one I got you years ago. Please take care.
Love-
Edith

Jack set down the note, and picked up the hat. Part of him worried he was still asleep,
but the rest of him needed to know what the hell the postman was on about. He rushed to his
computer, blitzing through the job directory. There were no human personnel on mail duty.
Confused, Jack dredged back to d, maybe delivery was human. It wasn’t, the mail department
was all bots. No bot was going to be saying what that man did. He instead moved to the
personnel database, browsing through each picture, trying to find the blond man, with his
harshly brown eyes and small nose. Jack was having less and less luck when he clicked to the
last page, then his phone rang. Jack was old timey about his phone, preferring to wear it in his
pocket over his wrist, and it took a second to fish it out and see that the call was from Arturo.
Hastily he answered.

“Jack, where the hell did you go?”

“What do you mean? I’m in my quarters.”

“No bullshit, what turn did you take?”

“Arturo, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just woke up, is this some joke?”

“Quit fucking playing Jack!”

“I’m not fucking playing, what are you even on about?”

“Jack, did you fall, are you hurt?”

“No, Arturo, what the hell is going on?”

“Jack we left at 5 AM, me, you and the geologist. You had the paperwork, we took
transport two, me and the geologist are in the cave right now, we turned back and you were
gone. Where are you?”

For a moment, Jack wondered if he was still asleep. He navigated the rudimentary, 21st
century computer’s directory, getting to the exo maintenance log. Arturo and the geologist,
Archibald Davis had left this morning in transport two. The biosignature reader had not detected
a third person. Jack said quietly to Arturo.

“The biosignature reader didn’t pick up a third body on transport 2. Whatever is with you
guys isn’t me, and it isn’t living.”

“What?”

“I said what I said Arturo, you two need to bail out of that fucking cave now. I’m on the
way.”

Jack hung up the phone and ran to get his clothes on. He stared at the hat on the
counter. When he wore that hat before, it was a damn curse, or maybe Jack was cursed. He
grabbed it and sprinted to the transport bay. As he did, he remembered the robbery. Don was
Jack's greatest mentor, teaching him almost everything he knew about crime and gunslinging.
Don had hoped to get enough money, finish his score and retire. Get an apartment in his name
with a second room for Jack. The robbery had gone off without a hitch, until they went to bail
and found out that Dixie was a rat. Jack was fast enough to put her down before she put a
second round out in the air. The first had done Don in though, and Jack had held him as he
went. Don’s money, tied to his biosignature, died with him, and all Don did with his last moment
was apologize to Jack for that. From that day on, Jack was a wanted man with his name known,
in short, Jack was done, it was just a matter of how many ugly bastards he would drag to hell
with him.

Snapping out of his reverie, Jack threw himself onto the manual buggy. The transports
topped out at 30 Kilometers per hour, the manual could hit 100. He checked to make sure spare
oxygen and masks were onboard, and then hit in the code, peeling off. During the drive he tried
to call Arturo, the phone ringing once, twice, three times, a fourth and then disconnecting. Jack
tried again to no avail, and the third try elicited no results. Luckily, the cave was close to base,
and the manual buggy could move. Drifting to a stop, he pulled up to the cave mouth, next to
the transport. He was then tackled off the buggy. As he fell, he drew his gun, and tried to turn.
When they hit the ground his assailant made a grab for the oxygen tank, but Jack turned fast
and fired the revolver point blank into his chest. Jack stood up and saw the blond man from this
morning clutching his gut and moaning. Then Jack saw movement from the cave mouth.
Turning he saw Arturo, staring in shock. Behind him, without the hat, was another Jack.

“What the hell did you do?”

“He tackled me off the buggy and tried to pull my air. If I had asked questions I would’ve
choked, so I shot.”

“How do you know that he’s the real Jack, Artutro?” the other Jack asked.

Jack wasn’t going to play that game, he moved his hands and shot the other. It was a
solid body shot, and as the other jack doubled over he fired two more. The second Jack fell to
his knees, breathing raggedly.

“How do I know you’re the real Jack?” Arturo said nervously.

“The presence sensor should’ve engaged in seat three or four, and his biosignature
should match mine on the onboard readers. If it did in the transport, then he’s the real one, grab
his gun and shoot me.”

Arturo nodded and walked to the screen on the passenger side to check. Jack stared
down the other as it struggled to breath. It stared back as Arturo ran for it and its gun. In a flash
it leaped up, its arms contorting as it bear hugged Arturo. Its voice, warbly and creaky, cackled
out
 “Wake up Jack!”

Jack raised his gun and aimed for its head. One round went in, followed another,
followed by the last round loaded into the revolver. Though it had flinched with each shot, it
stayed, laughing as Arturo cried out and struggled.

“Wake up Jack! Wake up Jack! Wake up Jack!” It repeated as it turned tail and ran. Jack
ran back for the buggy, in its survival kit was a shotgun and 8 shells. He grabbed them, a chest
mounted light, and reloaded his revolver before running after it. Its laughter echoed through the
cave, as did Arturo’s screams. Jack charged down further into the cave, no way out but through.
At the end of the path he saw it, tentacles writhing, shit that was not supposed to be moving
shifting. It held arturo, like it was trying to rip him apart. Jack Raised shotgun and fired. It
flinched and dropped Arturo, who was still shouting. It grinned and started walking towards
Jack. He fired another shot, it staggered and cried out, before it reached an arm out. Third shot
in, one shell left. Something dripped from it with this shot, and it bellowed in pain, running at
Jack. It must have been too angry to feel the fourth shot. It grabbed him, lifting Jack up with one
arm. As it strangled him with fury in its eyes, Jack drew his revolver and jammed it into the
false.s mouth. He unloaded every shot he had as it all faded to black. Before he passed out,
even though it was still crushing his windpipe, he felt it fall.
 Chapter 4

Jack was dreaming again, he knew it because he always had this dream. He stood
waiting on the corner of Stetson and Musk street. Word was that Edith's family had finally
bankrupted. They would have to enter indentured servitude to pay off their debts, if they did
things legally at least. Jack was a week away from he and Don's last heist, and he was hoping
to use the money to help them. Edith's family, or what remained of it after the most recent
plague, practically sneered upon Jack's very existence. He put out his cigarette, replacing the
taste of smoke with the taste of rancid and chilly city air. Looking to make sure no autonomous
cars were around, Jack set off across the street. The wind made his long duster flap
dramatically, and tugged at his hat. Before the jet stream had gone out of control such
conditions weren't normal in July, but in the 22nd century, weather was weather.

Jack made it across the street safely and before him in the parking lot stood Edith and
her family. Her mother, Elizabeth, stared at Jack with the same haughty, slightly disgusted look
she always had.

“Ain’t no one to rob here scumbag.” She said harshly

“Well Mrs. Jones, you seem to have already robbed the joy itself from here, so no, there
ain’t.”
“Why are you here then? Go hassle some other family.”

“Why do you think I’m here, exposition? If I wanted to talk to you I’d have started by
pulling my teeth and fingernails out, doing that would hurt less. Edith, there isn’t anything here
for you anymore, come with me.”

Edith looked between Jack and her mother, torn. Her mother spoke for her.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with the likes of you.”

“Let her say it then.”

Again Edith stood there, silent and torn. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Again, her mother spoke for her.

“What makes you think you’re even worth her anyway? You have nothing, you are
nothing, and you will be nothing.”

“I don’t delude myself into thinking you have to be worthy of anyone. She cares for me,
and she would whether I had confidence in myself or not. As for what I have, in a week's time I’ll
either be a dead man or a very wealthy one. Both outcomes are better than your situation. You’d
rather sell you and your family than break the law. Forgive me, Elizabeth, but I’d rather live or
die a free person, to hell with the law. But again, let's hear Edith say it over us bickering all day.”
 This time Edith spoke up, saying angrily; “Both of you are just unbearable. Mom, your
pride put us here, right here, no home, no possessions, and no way to get out. Jack, you’ve
asked me a million times and more to just leave. I won’t leave my family, and you’re a fool for
asking.”

The dream was interrupted by a warm, comforting presence. Jack's eyes fluttered open
as a woman with dark hair walked away from him. He felt like his thoughts were in a thick fog as
he tried to remember what had happened last before he slept. He knew it was some kind of
fight, but he couldn’t remember the details. He tried to get out of bed, his entire body aching.
Then the wave of pain hit his throat. He cried out as the pain washed over him, and grasped at
his neck. The woman turned around and walked towards Jack as he was embroiled in his woe.
Jack looked up at her, and his first, fully coherent thought of the day sprung from some deep
chamber of his mind.

Impossible

“Hey, you need to take it easy on yourself.” Edith said, her voice washing over Jack like
a baptism

Jack started speaking “How-” before being interrupted by a coughing fit. Once he had
recovered, he restarted and wheezed out the sentence.

“How are you here? You shouldn’t be here. What did you do?”

“I wanted to be with you Jack, so I worked the month and a half you were here. And as
soon as I did, you woke up. I was wrong to take my mothers side, Jack, but we can be together
now.”

As the fog started wearing off, alarm bells started going off. It was a toxic trait, but a
strong trait of Edith that she rarely apologized. And the price of a rocket, how would she get that
just to see him? Something here was really, really off. First the hat, now Edith, the objects of
Jack's dreams kept leaking into reality. Was reality off, or was Jack still asleep? He couldn’t tell,
but he knew he needed to keep his cool.

“Where’s Arturo?”

“He’s fine, out on a job right now.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Are you sure it can’t wait? I’ve really missed you, I was hoping we could, well, you
know.”

“I need to talk to Arturo first.”

 “Boo, no fun. Call him then, but pay some attention to me when you’re done.”

Jack got up and walked to his phone, which lay ungracefully on a table at the far end of
the room. He snatched it up and dialed, it rang once, twice, and then Arturo picked up.

“Arturo, when did Edith get here?”

“Jack? You woke up? The machines down in the med bay told me it wasn’t likely.” Arturo
sounded sick and tired

“I’m not even in the medbay.”

“Oh, great, this again. Are you about to dredge up some dark part of my past? Question
my motive, show me some horrifying sight? When will it end?”

“Arturo, what? It's me. Someone is here with me, but she shouldn’t be. Were you also
having weird run-ins with the locals, dreams about bad shit in your life?”

“That and more. Jack, when I said robots, I was wrong. Run, if you can, but in the last
few weeks things have taken a turn. Step outside, you won’t even recognize it. We are already
dead men. Death is just taking its time to collect.”

‘Edith’ was cooking something in the kitchen. Jack looked back at her as he got dressed
as fast as possible. He needed to go. There were escape pods that would bail the residents
here to a space station, and hopefully he could make it, maybe with Arturo. He was going to just
run out, but one last seed of doubt, or maybe hope made him call out to ‘Edith’.

“Do you remember the last conversation we had, the one before I went to Mars?”

“When my family left the apartments?”

That wasn’t their last conversation. Jack drew his gun as his heart rate rose. His hands
were sweaty, and his breath was shaky.

“Jack? Are you okay?” ‘Edith’ asked.

She turned around, the look on her face blank, her eyes dull. In the pan she held was
bright red and raw meat. Jack wanted to raise the gun, but he felt paralyzed as he stared. Small
details were off, her hair wasn’t wavy like Edith’s was, there weren’t as many freckles. In the
pan, the meat moved. Jack felt actually paralyzed, and he couldn’t move.He started panicking
as ‘Edith’ stared him down, but he couldn’t do almost anything but stand and twitch. She started
walking toward him, the air beginning to smell wrong, the very way she walked off. His finger
twitched, and the gun rang out as the bullet ate into the floor. The sudden surprise broke the
spell, and Jack charged out of the door. Outside wasn’t right, it was foggy. He ran into that deep
fog and kept running. Voices whispered around him, and shadows moved around him, but Jack
kept running.

At some point, he tripped. When he looked up, he saw the room of that shitty bar, the
same one he had visited when he had left. He didn’t understand how he was here, but he
looked around. The lotus bar wasn’t as run down as the last time Jack had seen it before he
went to mars, it was the time he and Edith had spoken before that. He watched from the floor as
his former self walked in. Jack had been so full of Anger and self loathing at the time, Don dead,
prospects burned, he had thought that maybe he and Edith could have a good run, a good but
short run, both of them weren’t destined for good things anyway. So this younger, angrier Jack
sat down at the bar and waited for his favorite bartender to pour him what he always got.

“Come to harass me again Jack?”

“Harass. Now that is a funny word for the guy giving you the money from his petty
robberies.”

“A fitting word for the old flame that refuses to go out.”

“A flame takes two to tend to.”

“I’ve said it before Jack, in any other place, any other time, any other circumstances, we
would have settled down like we wanted to as kids, but we can’t have that.”

“We can, just leave. Run away with me Edith.”

“I won’t run Jack, you know I won’t”

“I can’t stand to see you die like a damn fool! You’re working yourself to death, working
on a three million dollar debt in a place meant to trap you, and for who?”

“For myself. For my own future.”

“That's the damn thing, you’re by yourself. Your mom, wretched woman she was, she's
dead, so are your siblings. Killed by sickness and shit labor standards. Don’t let yourself die
where they did, how they did. If you get free, you’ll just be trapped again. The world itself is
rigged against us, why play by the rules?”

“Bringing up my family is a shitty thing to do and you know it. And I’m not by myself, I’m
stuck with your sorry ass. You only think of yourself, your acts of charity towards me, are
because you want me to yourself, or at least that's how I feel with how sparsely you come
around.”
 “I don’t, I love you because you’re you. Because of what we had, what we can have.
Every time I try to move on, build something new, it never, ever could be what we had. No one
could be you. You aren’t my property, and I would never want that, or for you to feel that way.”

“Well, maybe you should talk more you fucking lunk, maybe instead of only coming
around to give me some morally ambiguois money while my bosses are looking you should
actually open up and move past that core of self hate and anger you clutch like its your newborn
child.”

Jack didn’t know what to say, no witty response, he just stared, and the older Jack
watching this memory on the floor knew the feeling all too well. Her words still stung to this day.
The Jack in the memory said sadly, hoarsely,

“I’m sorry Edith.”

“I am too Jack.”

“Just leave with me, we can have a good run, a happy time together.”

“Yea, but not a long one. We would be hunted. That's my biggest problem with you Jack,
you’re already dead.”

“We’re all already dead.”

“Yea, well you act like it, that fact hangs around you, taints the air. You wouldn’t get it,
you don’t understand how it hurts to love someone who lives every violent day like it's the last
stand in an action movie. Why don’t you run away? Change your name, live with me.”

“It’d cost your debt and then some to pay for that.”

“Then you worry about that and I’ll worry about my debt. If the law doesn’t catch your
slimy ass we’ll live happily.”

“Then that's what I’ll work towards, but I’ll still help you where I can.”

“You’re a fool Jack. If this is the plan, you need to stick to it and catch me at a more
convenient time, if my bosses in here see me talking to you they're gonna get suspicious, and if
they see there's a price on your head, you’re done for.”

“When can I see you?”

“Every Sunday between 10 and 11 P.M. If you come in here again I’m gonna have to act
like a bitch.”
 “ I won’t unless I need to. I love you Edith.”

“I love you too.”

They stared at each other a second more before Edith sighed and raised her voice,
shouting; “Get the hell outta here you drunk idiot!”

Jack watched as the memory dissipated, the room vanishing back into fog. He lay there
a moment after the scene had gone away, wallowing in self pity before he forced himself up. He
had fought, tried, and failed. But if he gave up now, it all was for nothing. He looked around,
trying to get his bearings in the misty surroundings. He could barely make out a street sign and
started marching towards it, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He looked at the sign, and saw
it was main street. All he had to do was regroup with Arturo and hit the escape pods. He dialed
and called, and Arturo picked up instantly this time.

“Arturo, I’m on main street. Where are you?”

“I’m in my office, but don’t come for me Jack. He’s here.”

“Who’s there?”

“That thing from a few weeks ago.”

Jack struggled to remember, but then it clicked “The fake me?”

“It's not exactly a fake you, it's like a shapeshifter, an enforcer for what's really in charge
here.”

“What do you mean, what does it look like?”

“A big guy with an eyepatch, weirdly great mustache, and a long coat.”

Jack had chills, that was the exact descriptor of the man Jack had dueled in a dream.

“Try to run, I’ll be there soon.”

“It doesn’t matter if we run Jack, the problem isn’t this place, the problem is our minds.”

“What do you mean?”

Arturo was quiet for a moment before saying softly; “He’s close, I’ve gotta go.”

Jack started running as the line went dead. As he got closer to the offices the fog grew
thinner until it was just the street in the dim night. HIs throat stung worse than a thousand hells
as he ran, but he kept pushing until at last he was at the steps. Jack drew his gun and walked
towards the door. Then Arturo went flying out a window. Jack stared for a second, bewildered,
before Arturo rolled and coughed.

“Jack, did you know that martian gravity is only 30% of earth's gravity?”

Jack walked to his friend before asking; “What the hell does that have to do with this?”

“Does this feel like only 30% of earth's gravity? Of course it doesn’t. It feels the same.
Now it makes sense. Give me your gun Jack, we need to wake up.”

Before Jack even had time to question it, he heard something lumbering in the office,
presumably the same thing from the cave. Arturo was talking nonsense, but maybe experienced
nonsense was better than Jack's previous failure. He handed Arturo the gun as it kicked down
the door. Arturo raised the gun at Jack and said

“See you on the other side.”

Jack’s head burnt like it was thrown into a volcano, the pressure must’ve been what a
pressure cooker felt after it was made into a bomb. His entire body shrieked at its current state,
and the roar and fiery burn of pain left him with nothing but its agonizing embrace. Then it faded,
and he could see. He was in some kind of wall made up of meat. He used his weary, still
burning limbs and mustered all the strength he could to pull himself out of it. After a few minutes
of wet tearing and squelching, he was free. He panted on the floor a moment, before recoiling.
The floor was littered with bones. He turned around and looked to the wall, made of writhing
coils of meat, and saw dozens of corpses inside it. Closest to him, and hopefully not yet a
corpse, was Arturo. He braced himself, grateful that the bitter cold stifled the smell, and then he
started tugging on Arturo. The wall pulled back, not wanting to let go, and worse, Arturo’s arm
felt like it was getting colder. He was just beginning to make progress when he heard something
coming. He turned and looked for any way in or out. There were two hals, the one on the left
appeared to be made of ice, and there were no sad fluorescents lighting it the way this room
was lit. The other was steel, the walls shining, the floor an industrial, unwelcoming slab. As he
heard something crunching down the ice path he looked for a weapon, and decided on a femur.
Then he watched in terror as the same hulking man, his flesh shifting, but his gaze unwavering,
entered the room.

“It’s one thing to have lasted a whole week, but to have broken out? You sure are
something else.”

“A week? That isn’t right.”

“I guess you wouldn’t know, huh Jack? Well, one week on the wall is one day topside.
You lasted seven weeks in there, one week out here.”
 “Why, and what about Arturo?”

“An old god lays sleeping here. It was banished long ago, but here it sat, comatose, until
we came poking our stupid noses into it. In exchange for its knowledge, the U.S. government
feeds it sacrifices. At the rate it’s being fed, in a century or so it’ll wake up. As for your friend, I
finished him. Another sacrifice to the god, just like you were supposed to be.”

“I was a sacrifice? Why send a sacrifice to Mars?”

“You were never sent to Mars, this is antarctica. Now, you’re stronger than almost
everyone to have ever been sent here, and the old god could use another enforcer. You can join
us or die.”

Jack contemplated it for a second before asking: “Why did you join it?”

“Long ago, in another life, I was Chris Hubbard. I was a billionaire playboy, and an
adventurer. I found it, and I sold its location. In exchange for my help, it offered me life
everlasting. In exchange for helping it subdue the minds thrown into it and making sure its goals
are accomplished, I can live forever.”

“At what cost?”

“Having to run in a false world made to fool most of the sacrifices, an unnatural body that
isn’t your own and the eventual downfall of mankind.”

“I’ll pass.”

“I’ll rough you up, and you’ll change your mind before you actually die. Few people truly
have the nerve.”

Chris charged at Jack, and Jack swung the bone like a club. Chris caught the bone,
snapping it, and Jack used his now sharg shard to stab Chris in its gut. A monster truck of a
blow sent Jack to the floor, and it ripped the bone out. Jack grabbed a skull and swung it full
force into Chris’ head. It staggered, and Jack did it again. This time Chris cried out. Using both
hands, raising both arms, and even jumping a little, Jack smashed the skull over Chris’s bowed
head. As he hit the floor, Jack turned tail and ran into the steel hallway, its cold, unwelcoming
air, giving Jack a second chance.
 Chapter 5

It had been four weeks. Four weeks of running through near deserted halls, of crawling
into vents. Of barely avoiding an enraged Chris. Jack had survived, just barely, still frigid, even
in the stolen clothes. He felt there was no escape, and there likely wasn't. Jack couldn't feasibly
steal and pilot an aircraft, would starve at sea, and even if he did make it home, be killed or
worse. In his vent, safe for now, he opened a tablet he had stolen and checked once more for
messages from Edith. Jack had kept the truth of his situation as vague as possible, even though
she had asked a million times how "mars" was and the danger he encountered. He always lied,
it was for her sake, but still a lie. He was waiting on a response from her now. It was truly a
harsh response to wait one, but it was a question that needed asking.

Will you be okay if this week is the last?

With no reply yet Jack turned the tablet back off. Keeping it charged was one of Jack's
greatest priorities. He had yet to find a viable escape route, but he set himself to wracking his
mind over it again. He was really just procrastinating sleep. Sleep was Jack’s greatest enemy,
for when he slept he dreamt. The dreams were not dreams, it was a life. It was the god throwing
Jack into its memories, letting Jack live as it. It was as if an ant was for a night thrown into the
life of a human for a night only to be sent careening back into its puny ant body with the
memories but no way to even begin to comprehend the knowledge. Jack was going insane,
simply put. The experience itself was eating his mind. But if he could avoid sleeping, he could
remain here, human. And if he could escape, maybe he could outrun the knowledge. Not likely
though, but if he ducked through android repair, he could pass through the command room via
the vents, and it’d be a clear shot to the helipad. The helipad would be a complete bust though,
no pilot would take Jack unless Jack was armed, so a detour into security to get a gun. There
was another route, another plan, but Jack made sure to bury it in his mind, deep in his
memories. Jack wasn’t sure, but he was suspicious that the god, with its name he could not
understand, had a two way connection. It could look into him, simple and sad as he may be to it.
At some point in his fighting in that small sad vent, he lost, and after four days drifted off to
sleep.

There was no way to describe the dream in its fullness. The knowledge, the power, the
being itself. Jack could feel his sense of identity melting as he was forced and drowned under
the gods mind, its hubris, its dark, threatening rage. It was on this earth first, it had killed the
former residents and it had happily feasted, but now these strange, dull apes had proven to not
be so dull. With their sharp twigs, their primitive magic they threatened it. How they had even
survived and made to this cold southerly land was impressive, dumb as they were, they had
tenacity. But alone, they stood no chance. The god singled one of them out and snatched it up.
It only grinned as its neck was snapped. The god wondered why before an unearthly light shone
and then burned. It was a trap, the men had all enchanted themselves. The rules had been
broken, and now the god would be punished as the karmic balance enacted its retribution. It
struggled to stay awake, raged against that soft goodnight, and then it was subdued, trapped,
as flame surrounded it.

It awoke, its head pounding, its form lesser. It looked through eyes that saw too little and
tried to think in a mind that was too slow. Then something bubbled up, something that corrected
the wrong it felt. It was not it, it was Jack. With his head pounding he shouted and yelled, trying
to force the false identity away, trying to free himself of the memories that weren’t his . He lay in
the small vent, crying and writhing and retching in the small box he called home for some time
before he felt somewhat human again.

Awake, desperate for some positive emotions, Jack powered the tablet back on and
checked the messages, impressed his jailbreak had remained intact thus far. Sure enough, he
had gotten a response from Edith.

I want to say that it isn't enough. It's enough money, with this cash I’ll likely be free in the
next three months. But it isn’t fair that you have to go so soon.

Jack relished in the emotion, warm and fuzzy and just good as it was. The god didn’t feel
this. It was “above” love, but love was Jack's anchor to humanity. Love and hope had kept him
sane, but a harsh determination had begun to rise in him now. Love and hope would keep Jack
alive, yes, but alive wasn’t living. Tears streamed down Jack's face as he wrote the final
message.

Jack turned off the tablet and started the long shuffle through the vents. He had
managed to avoid being found by Chris by getting so lost not even Jack knew his location. He
had to be extremely careful now though, if he slept again, he was done for. Chris, having gotten
Jack's plan from their unholy union, would be expecting most steps of the plan, which is why the
backup plan involved a different route. He would slip into security first, then android repair to get
access into the rest of the building. This route wouldn’t take him to the helipad though. He had
said his goodbyes, there was no escape, and even if there was, running wouldn’t be worth it. As
Jack found his way back into the shiny steel halls, he thought on Chris’ words.

“Few people have the nerve.”

Jack hoped those words tasted bitter.

The connection with the god had given Jack a better understanding of Chris. Chris was
terrified of death, of the idea of an infinite void, an absolute nothing. The idea was pretty damn
spooky, Jack gave it that, but the last dregs of himself clung to the determination to finish this.
The god was still trapped, still sealed. Chris was its only connection. If Chris went, the god
would be left alone in silence until someone as manipulatable as Chris came along. It wasn’t
likely, and if it did happen, the god would likely be under the subjugation of the government. A
dark and horrifying fate for the future generations, but better than the death of all things.
 As he crept around the frigid halls, he rounded the last corner. A black door stood in front
of him, its steel lettering reading almost monotonously “Security”. The doors' simple security
was easy to get around, just a few wires moved, and admin settings changed. The construct of
this base was extremely simple, like it had been thrown up haphazardly in the 2050’s and then
never updated, hardly manned. Almost a ghost town, like the government didn’t care anymore,
like they had gotten what they wanted and left it.Left behind were a few crew members,
androids, and a lot of guns and gear. Jack inspected the walls before taking a revolver off its
pegs. It was close enough to the gun he had used before. He also took the time to find a
shotgun, standard issue maybe a century ago but serviceable enough, and a submachine gun.
Having set the guns aside he set to finding actual clothes to wear, which he did, and then light
armor. Then he gathered as much ammo as he could carry. Lastly, he started grabbing
grenades. Frag grenades, flashbangs, firebombs, the whole lot. Weighed down with gear and
jangling with every step, Jack walked out of security. Two men saw him and reached for their
guns, but Jack already had his revolver out. He fired twice, and started walking to android repair
as the bodies lay cooling on the harsh steel floor.

The halls remained deserted, but off in the distance faint signs of life could be heard,
scrambling, the chirp of radios. The personnel left to freeze here had known Jack was around,
but this was a vanta-black site. No cameras or surveillance of any kind allowed, and that gave
Jack an edge up. Likely though, they had heard the shots and were now arming themselves. It
didn’t matter, because Jack was going to take them with him The whole damn base if he could.
It was all going to burn. There was no escape, so there was instead going to be a last gruesome
finale.

Approaching the android repair door, he noted how it looked the same as the last. How
dreadfully boring the architect who designed this place was, Jack didn’t want to know. He didn't
waste his time gently opening the door he came upon, three shotgun shells making it limp
enough to pass through. Jack pointed the shotgun around, making sure the room was empty,
and then he headed for a droid under repair. Artificial intelligence was mankind's spite to the
gods, making a faux imitation of themselves while lacking what made humans special. The
companies behind this had found that making a robot think it was a real person would keep
them sane and docile. Content to do their jobs forever, feeling in a way that wasn’t quite feeling
but scarily similar enough for Jack to find the machines sympathetic. Which is why he felt bad
approaching a monitor in the center of the room, its wires leading to a table carrying a droid that
had clearly been abandoned. He ran the command to turn the droid back on, a trick Don had
taught him years ago, and waited until it came back, sputtering and coughing with lungs that
were just real enough to sound that way.

“Where am I?” it asked

“Android repair.” Jack answered cooly

“That can’t be right, why would I be there?”

 “I need the code to access the command center.” Jack stated

“What?”

“I need the verification code to enter the command center.”

Clearly, two and two made four in the machine's mind, and it shakily asked; “Am I an
android?”

“Do you really want to know?” Jack asked

“Yes, please. I need to know if any of my life was ever real.”

“It was real enough to you, wasn’t it?”

“Sure, but what about my soul, my being. I have a wife at home, or at least I thought I
did, what if none of that was real, I need to know.”

“Tell me the code and I’ll tell you the truth.”

“1256.”

“You’re a droid.”

“Oh god. God please no. When I thought I was human, there was something special, we
all want to think there is something special about us, too us, that it will be okay. But Jesus never
prayed for constructs, the holy spirit doesn’t help robots. What am I supposed to do?”

“Jesus’ prayers were long ago taken like leaves in a breeze, and the holy spirit doesn’t
do much looking by the looks of the world. Live with this knowledge or let it kill you.”

He walked out of the room . Once again, the small voice in his head brought up the

🕯︎
convictions, the idea of no escape. His head pounded and his ears rang as some other, deep
thing from within thought: No escape unless it could use ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎⧫︎♒︎□︎❒︎ ⬧︎ ♒︎♋︎■︎♎︎.

Jack shouted in agony as the forbidden piece of knowledge tried to scuttle across his
brain. It was beyond his comprehension, beyond his very being, but not beyond It. All Jack
could do was try to cling to his sanity as another psychic attack was made. This time it didn’t
bother with a memory, just simply exposing its thoughts, what it was like to even breathe as a
being incomprehensibly above humanity. Jack clung to the spare feelings he had, resisting and
shouting the whole time. If it wanted to crush Jack it likely would have done so already. He
fought with all he had knowing that it didn’t want him dead, it just wanted him. Another anchor to
this realm would make it twice as strong. Though Jack could feel the force of it trying to keep
him down, he bellowed like an animal and rose. Head still ringing he saw a group of guards
approaching. With his clothes, he likely looked similar, but he fired a slug into the group and
ducked for cover. Though he barely heard over the sound of his mind breaking, he could sort of
hear the screams of one. One down, three to go. Bellowing, Jack rushed from cover and fired
blindly. It didn’t hit anyone, but it scared them enough for Jack to charge one of the pillars that
one guard stood behind. The guard turned the corner right into a shotgun blast. Jack worked the
pump and raised it again. His vision started to fade as he shot again. He went fully blind for a
moment, and in that second he felt a round smash into the armor.Unable to see or hear, he
grabbed a flashbang and pulled the pin, tossing it as he tried to crawl off the bruise of the
gunshot. Jack presumed that it went off as he got up and staggered away to cover. He tried to
focus on his breathing as the pressure in his head started to fade and he could see a grayed out
world again. The smell of the flash grenade still hung in the air, and Jack peeked out. The two
guards weren’t visible, so Jack waited. One of the guards got up, and Jack put them down.

The last guard never made a move, so Jack took the time to reload his shotgun and set
off down the hallway. His next goal was command center, from there he could initiate this
places’ self destruction measures. As he started to jog, he saw the last guard sleeping and
decided to leave him be. This place was going to blow anyway, why waste the bullet. There
were two ways to get to the command center, one past the barracks, and one past the mess
hall. Both were likely a firefight, and in anticipation Jack shouldered his shotgun and drew the
submachine gun. Though a shotgun had the absurd power and decent range to give you an
upper hand in a small firefight, full auto was typically preferable in group clusterfucks. Another
lesson learned from Don. Another part of a past life that had led to this damnation. Part of Jack
knew it had been pointless, part of him was terrified. The rest of him was filled with wrath and
hate like a caged beast. For nearly a month now the god had taunted Jack, twisted his mind.
Jack was ready to face eternity if his final actions were ones of spite. Once again some deep
part of him that was no longer him bubbled up, trying to speak and whisper the foulest of unholy
knowledge. He kept marching though, he had to keep going, otherwise the pain would win, and
Jack would break. He kept at this as he rounded the final corner to the command center. Down
that hall, past the mess hall, was Jack's last target, with one caveat.

There, threateningly, stood Chris. Jack stared it down. It wasn’t likely that Jack could kill
the enforcer without a trap laid, but Jack could make it hurt, and he reveled in that fact. He
grabbed a flashbang from his back and waited.

“Join us, and your mind will be less fractured, Jack. We can put you back together, make
you whole again.” Chris said.

Jack pulled the pin and started walking towards it. Chris seemed almost perturbed,
before Jack lobbed the grande and ducked. Its mighty bang crashed forth, and Jack raised the
SMG and started firing with the intention of unloading the entire clip. Chris bellowed with an
unearthly screech and rose. Once again Jack grabbed a flashbang and preemptively pulled the
pin. Then Chris charged. Jack once again threw it and hit the floor. Once again Chris went
down, but this time Jack grabbed the shotgun from his back. He walked up to the stunned Chris
and slamfired all 8 rounds he had. Then he walked up to the door and put in the pin. As it slid
shut behind him Jack started laying out the firebombs, once all 8 were placed he clasped one in
his hand. As soon as he let go it would go off, and with the small room, one would trigger the
other 8, 9 bombs of military grade accelerant. Fire had been what had cowed the god into its
slumber, hopefully fire could put Chris down, or at the least, give him a taste of hell. Using hate
alone to push back the gods oppressive presence Jack navigated through the functions until he
found the self destruct protocol. The door started to creak and groan under a weight as Jack put
the pin in again. One of Chris’ fists burst through as Jack confirmed what he was doing. His
sight was starting to blur more, but Jack held on. The door finally caved, and Chris walked
through a second too late.

Self destruct initiated. Personnel have two minutes to evacuate.

That smug fucking look was finally washed from Chris’ distorted face as it looked to Jack
and asked; “What have you done?”

“Few people have the nerve, right? Fuck you!”

Chris picked Jack up by the throat, saying: “You’re going to undo this right now or
eternity is going to hurt.”

The pressure on Jack's mind grew so intense he screamed before saying; “Eternity is
already going to hurt. We’re going to hell together Chris, you and me.” Then he let go of the
firebomb, setting it off. Jack could only feel himself burning for a few seconds, but his final sight
was Chris screaming in agony as all nine bombs went off and began to scorch his flesh. Just
before Jack faded away, he could hear the P.A announce

Personnel have one minute to evacuate.

A thousand miles away from this place, Edith opened a message. She had known it was
likely going to be the last, so she opened it and lamented what could have been as she read
Jack's last words.