A Sky Beneath the Crust

2022 AbSciCon Creative Science Writing Contest
Third Place in Short Stories, Fiction

“A Sky Beneath the Crust” by Rohan Chowdhury and Anurup Mohanty

When the Pod turned upside down, Athena’s notions of reality followed suit.

Athena’s mind catapulted faster than the Pod that she knew was falling between two parallel sheets of ice. Captured in an extraterrestrial free fall, she could no longer remember what she was doing inside the cramped chamber altogether. Athena glanced at her crew – now halved from leaving three astronauts behind. A small red dot shone above their heads, casting the two people in front of her into dull silhouettes. Her heart echoed in her ears and the cracks in her throat dried further at the thought of calling out to her crew for help. She felt nauseous but knew there was nothing left to retch, for her insides felt hollower than the void that lay outside the Pod.

Her only source of comfort was the seat that she was clasped onto. Realizing that she could no longer move her hands or legs, she gave in to the immobility that was gaining control over her. The straps that kept her from falling seemed to tighten around her body, asphyxiating her slowly.

She wondered if this was it.

’Distance to impact: 1000 meters.’

She closed her eyes and allowed the glow of the red dot to consume her. Flashes from home filled her mind as she sunk into her torpor. Home, which had become a distant memory left two and a half years behind, a distant memory that would take two and a half more years to return to. A memory gradually fading, of a home, of a people, and of a planet tethered to the tiny hurtling Pod by means of a 43-minute delay.

’Distance to impact: 800 meters.’

It took a while for Athena to register the Pod’s voice. When she did, she opened her eyes, allowing her vision to adjust to the dark interiors, noticing the red glow settling on the silhouettes of the crew members again.

’Distance to impact: 500 meters.’

The preprogrammed voice cut through the dead silence of the crew. Athena saw her crew relaxing their shoulders, unstiffening themselves. Athena let herself calm as well, deafening her echoing heart by taking a violent gasp of breath.

’Distance to impact: 400 meters.’

I am Athena Hulman. Woman, 38. From Utrecht, Netherlands. Astronaut, GSA. Flight Commander, Zeus II.

’Distance to impact: 300 meters.’

I am inside the Pod with Takehiro and Riya. We’re here to save the planet. We’re here to do the right thing.

’Distance to impact: 200 meters.’

We’re here to save the planet. We’re here to do the right thing.

’Distance to impact: 100 meters.’

We’re here to do the right thing.

’Distance to impact: 50 meters.’

We’re… here to do the right thing.

‘Brace for impact.’

We’re here to do the right thing?

Athena closed her eyes again as Europa consumed the Pod in a silent splash.

—-

As Zeus II neared completion of its flyby past Mars, Hassan looked out of the window. The rusty planet looked like a large abandoned piece of spherical debris floating in space. Coupled with its two oddly-shaped moons, it reminded him of his irritable old neighbor who lived with his two kooky cats.

Hassan chuckled to himself. An estranged rover was perhaps still crawling in those valleys that once had rivers gushing through it. When it was established that Mars was once home to life, it became an arena for space agencies worldwide to explore settlement strategies. Space exploration discourse shifted towards giving humanity a new home on an extraterrestrial planet, and missions were funded exorbitantly.

The efforts failed, of course. When matters on Earth took a turn for the worse, scientists globally had to re-prioritize. Despite having expended humongous resources on Mars, the scientists failed to question what led to life abandoning the planet – and whether the fate of Mars would ever be met by Earth.

Hassan turned towards the crew. ‘Folks,’ he began. ‘Do you think we’re doing the right thing?’

‘Too late to ask that question now, isn’t it?’ Riya responded while heating a sealed cup of frozen hot chocolate.

Hassan walked across to the circular lounge where everyone was. The rest of the crew were mostly disinterested in his question. Takehiro and Svetlana were busy beating their brains out over a game of Monopoly. The game proved ineffective in stimulating Oliver’s senses, who had conveniently passed out on the table next to the duo. Athena, undisturbed by the commotion, was nose-deep in a novel opposite the drama.

Hassan walked over to the center of the lounge and cleared his throat audibly. A couple of heads turned towards him. ‘Does Mars ring a bell?’

‘It does,’ replied Athena. ‘It rings a bell to a door that’s best kept closed.’

Hassan smiled. ‘How long?’

‘As long as possible, Hassan,’ Svetlana jutted in, her eyes still fixated on the board. ‘Riya’s right. It’s too late to bring this up now.’ Takehiro squinted his eyebrows, struggling to concentrate on the conversation while focusing on the game.

‘Honestly, I feel all of you are running away from this because it’s making you question your presence on the spacecraft right now.’

The crew filled Zeus II with a silence as potent as the vacuum outside.

No one spoke, until Takehiro let his cards fall onto the board, ceding the game.

‘I do not see how we’re wrong, Hassan,’ he said. ‘At this point in time, there is no better alternative to the oxygen crisis. Europa is our only hope right now.’

‘I’m not denying that.’

‘Are you implying that we abandon the mission and let everyone die?’

Hassan sighed. ‘I’m not saying that, Takehiro. Zeus I sent signals of life on Europa back to Earth. But they’re mere biosignatures at this point of time. It’s been years since we received the data without any concrete understanding of what those organisms are, how they behave and interact with each other, and how they manage to survive in the subsurface oceans of the moon. To dive into its ecosystem unsolicited could mean grave danger – not only for us but for the existing life forms as well.’

‘Hassan, we’re not off all the way to meddle with the life forms there,’ Svetlana snapped. ‘We’re just going there to collect microbial samples and leave.’

‘How are we collecting microbes without meddling with life forms?’

‘You’re just offended by the fact that most of the funding from your Mars mission was re-allocated for Zeus II,’ Svetlana hissed.

Hassan’s smile melted away to expose an expression as cold as steel. His wordlessness provoked Svetlana to attack him further.

‘You’re only a part of Zeus II because they had no place to put you after pulling the plug on your mission. Do you even want to be here? Do you even wish to see this succeed?’

‘Svetlana!’

Witnessing the situation escalate between the two, Athena interjected before Hassan could say any more.

‘Svetlana, I think it’s best to leave it at that. What happened on Mars wasn’t in any of our control. And for all that matters, never forget that you were on that mission as well. And so were Oliver and Riya. If anything at all, be grateful to Hassan that you’re a part of this crew.’

Svetlana rose from the table and flung her cards on the Monopoly board in disgust. ‘Grateful you say? Grateful indeed! I’m here stuck on this spacecraft for the next four and a half years, away from my daughter, away from my family.’

She looked at Hassan. ‘Of course, we’re not doing the right thing. And it’s not just about us meddling in an alien ecosystem. It’s us, astronauts and scientists – yet again – trying to clean up the mess that billions have created back home. And in this mess that we’ve created, we’re very likely to interfere in a foreign ecosystem and cause a rupture to it. This is the first time we’re on to something like this, but is there any guarantee this will not happen again? No. Because we never learn. And we never will. But I’d rather be here, even if I do feel trapped. I’d rather be here than someplace back on Earth, wondering if my child will ever live past the age of seven. Or if I’d have to witness the ones close to me die one by one in front of my eyes. I’d rather be here, trying to be of help, and not question the morality behind a mission that we have no choice but to execute.’

Nobody said a word. Svetlana had spewed a bitter truth that everyone had been trying to avoid, casting the entire crew into a rigid, immobile spell. Hassan’s eyes screamed confusion, for he was at a loss for knowing how to mend the wounds he had undone.

Svetlana had made a fair point. The onus was yet again on scientists to clean up the perfectly avoidable human mess of plastic disposal. Decades of ignorance had led to an accumulation of microplastics in the Earth’s oceans. The microplastics, harmful in general to the prevalent oceanic ecosystems through its adverse effects on marine wildlife and carcinogenic food chain biomagnifications, turned even more fatal when they led to a mutation in a virus that took on phytoplanktons in a murderous rampage.

Phytoplanktons have always been crucial to the persistence of life on the planet. They have been consistent providers of around 50 to 80 percent of the total oxygen on Earth – significantly outnumbering that produced by trees and plants around the globe. Phytoplanktons lay at the very base of the food chain, facilitating an important source of nutrition for all marine life. With the mutated virus – named R5T6 – gradually diminishing phytoplanktons across oceans, global oxygen levels dipped by half a percent, and the risk of extinction for all marine life sent all humans scurrying.

The fear was legitimate. Scientists began to cordon off oceans, creating artificial lakes uninfected by R5T6 in a frantic attempt to save marine (and human) life. The task was mammoth – to synthesize spaces across a planet draped in blue was close to impossible. Efforts were slow, and cans of oxygen became a commodity in obsessive demand (some even extravagantly flavored with customizable scents of lavender, rose, and jasmine). As these efforts took force, there was – for a while, for a very brief while – a bit of hope.

Things changed, and hopes came crashing down when dolphins started disappearing from the oceans. Paranoia set in yet again – stocks crashed, governments were blamed, propaganda ensued, doomsday clocks began ticking across the internet, all with their own renditions of Judgment Day. More and more people took to faith – questioning why God would do this to them while believing that God would indeed solve all of it. But despite the bells, the gongs, and the prayers, God had fallen silent.

When science finally came in with its answers, it stated that all of life on the planet had just over a decade before everything ended. Humanity turned to anarchy, and matters turned dire as each individual began to take to their own. In all of this mass helplessness, everyone hoped for a brief glimmer of hope from the skies above.

And in a very strange turn of events, the skies did respond with a glimmer of hope. Zeus I, an uncrewed spacecraft making the rounds of Jupiter’s moon Europa, sent a brief signal confirming biosignatures gathered from a watery plume that shot up from the moon’s subsurface oceans. The biosignatures strengthened as more and more data was gathered from other plumes that confirmed the existence of life on the planet. Programmed to collect samples and return to Earth, what happened next completely blew the minds of scientists who were able to study the extraterrestrial water a couple of years later.

The scientists found an alien microbe species in the sample with a curious trait – the ability to independently synthesize oxygen. Hope was reignited like a bright, burning flame in the dark, and efforts were initiated to make the microbes proliferate in oceans under a controlled environment. However, when everyone realized that the alien microbes multiplied way slower than the rate at which the phytoplankton were dying, an alternate solution had to be fast-tracked.

Confronting their own limitations, space agencies all across the world joined hands and came together to form what was known as the Global Space Alliance (G.S.A). Funds were pulled from existing missions, whose future lay uncertain. Teams were reassigned, and in less than a year, the Zeus II was built, utilizing every spacecraft prototype ever designed to build the largest ever, one that would take a human crew of six to facilitate the collection of the microbe-rich water directly from Europa’s subsurface ocean. With very limited scope for errors, complete automation of the process was ruled out. The risk was paramount, and it would take the crew five years to return with the microbes.

A lot could change in those five years. Oxygen levels could sink further. Half of marine life could become extinct. Humans could perish from the massive disruption in the food chain. And yet, they had to take a risk.

They had to take a risk for yet another crisis fabricated by humans. For a crisis that could very well repeat itself again – perhaps while donning a different yet familiar mask. Through a solution that entailed banking on the fact that an alien ecosystem would hopefully not be disrupted by their actions. A solution in an alien ecosystem, for which six astronauts from planet Earth were willingly disrupting their lives.

As Mars became a smaller distant sphere by the second, each knew nobody was wrong. Seven months into the mission, Hassan still felt that what they were doing would neither teach humanity a lesson nor be beneficial for the long-term benefit of the solar system. Svetlana was positioned correctly in her denial as well – for the truth was indeed too much to take in, and it was best to stay mum and keep going.

‘So please Hassan,’ Svetlana said, her voice pleading yet stern. ‘Please.’

She stormed off into the dormitories. Everyone sunk into a state of denial, choosing not to address what just took place before them. They sunk into their activities again – Athena got back to her book, Takehiro picked up the cards, and Riya finished her cup of hot chocolate in a swift gulp. Oliver, whose stupor had been decimated by the ongoing quarrel, looked over at Hassan. Hassan stared back at him, but he knew his mind was elsewhere. Hassan walked away from the lounge, resuming his position by the window side next to the glowing emblem of the Earth with the letters G.S.A. imprinted on them, staring into the darkness of outer space. Some things were better left to the abyss.

—-

Riya’s shaky voice that broke the silence in the Pod. ‘The Pod to Zeus II. We have hit the subsurface ocean.’

Athena opened her eyes. The exteriors were as dark as they could be. Takehiro enabled a few systems to counter the tides in the subsurface ocean. As he pressed a few buttons on the Pod’s panel, the vehicle whirred itself into a small submarine, slowly beginning to turn towards the ocean bed that was nowhere to be seen.

‘I wonder if they can hear us,’ Riya said. There was no acknowledgment from Hassan’s side from Zeus II.

‘Riya,’ Takehiro said, distracting everyone from the contemplation. ‘Turn on the infrared feedback systems. Let’s see what we’re heading towards.’

Riya did as she was told. The surroundings were dark with no light seeping in. It was almost as if they never left the vacuum outside. As per G.S.A’s instructions, the crew decided against using the lights on the Pod, for it might startle the life forms.

The panel was dark, the screens on minimum brightness. The thermal cameras gave no significant infrared feedback and the altimeter had recalibrated itself, now displaying ’94 Kilometers’. The crew was fixated on spotting a more visible sign of the significant biosignature that had been observed by Zeus I. Their eyes were attentive to the red dot of light in the Pod, knowing it would turn green upon detection of the microbes.

The Pod kept creeping downward, and there were still no signs of life. Takehiro was beginning to grow impatient. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and his shoulders were terse again.

‘Takehiro,’ Athena whispered, her eyes moving swiftly between the panels and the screens.

There was a faint shimmer of orange being displayed from the thermal cameras. It seemed to have been dispersed unevenly, slowly rising upwards. There were different shapes and sizes, and it almost seemed like…

‘They’re disintegrated pieces of something,’ Riya said.

‘Maybe the source of the biosignatures,’ Athena offered. Takehiro agreed with her. ‘Riya,’ she asked, ‘Is there any way to make this thing move forward faster?’

‘Yes, Commander,’ Riya said, turning the thrusters to the very maximum level.

Takehiro’s eyes opened extra wide, as he tried to make sense of what he was witnessing. ‘Looks like someone tore a jellyfish apart,’ he commented, with a hint of offense at his own thoughts. As they moved forward, the remnants increased in number, till finally, a faint green shimmer was visible at a distance.

‘Are these the Europan life forms?’

Twenty two minutes had passed since the Pod had leaped into the ocean. 28 kilometers below the surface, the apparent biosignatures became more vivid, the faint light allowing the Pod to navigate.

In a crisp robotic bleep, the red dot that shone above their heads turned green. The microbial samples in the oceans had reached a sufficient quantity to be collected and carried back home.

‘Takehiro,’ commanded Athena. ‘Enable the sampling systems.’

Takehiro did as he was told. Through an analog lever on the minimalist panel, the Pod began collecting the water samples. Scientists back on Earth calculated that they would require samples from at least 50 gallons of water – a massive amount that would give them enough microbes to culture. There was an inbuilt system in place to ensure that the Pod wasn’t carrying the humongous amount of water back home – for the microbes would be separated whilst retaining the least amount of water in the Pod’s tanks.

The faint light from outside, however, kept getting brighter. It seemed to be coming from a thick structure that was covering the middle of the ocean infinitely on either end, consisting of small moving beings of varied shapes radiating green. The light became stronger as everyone glued their eyes to the panel, meters away from the floating beings blocking their way. The remnants were still emanating from the structure, losing the luminescence as they floated upward towards the pod.

‘Guys,’ Athena said. Everyone turned their heads towards her.

‘These are Europan life forms, for sure. But they’re dead.’

An eerie silence dawned over The Pod.

‘What do we do?’ Riya asked.

‘We wait.’

—-

After the Pod had collected 3 samples of varying intensity, Athena took a call.

‘The Pod to Zeus II. Sample collection complete,’ she spoke into the transmitter. ‘We’re off to explore the subsurface ocean.’

As they tread further downwards, the green assumed an uncomfortable bright tone, merging with the red-turned-green-dot above their heads. The thermal cameras had gone bonkers, constantly depicting a screen of red. The Pod had no option but to wait and see how long this went on for.

Takehiro hypothesized that the structure would eventually come to an end. He said that these were apparently dead icelings which had floated up to a point where they had accumulated. The luminance could have possibly emerged from the fact that Europa was subject to immense radiation even below the crust – and there was something that made these creatures light up green as they perished. The topmost of these perished creatures disintegrated slowly, owing to tidal erosion.

Suddenly, just as The Pod crossed over 5 kilometers through the structure, Takehiro’s hypothesis came true. The thermal cameras stabilized into the darkness once more, the screens turning black as they escaped. Riya allowed the light to come in through the panels once more. But as she did so, there was a collective gasp let out by the crew.

Europa was no longer dark. It shone a dull green below the crust.

It was bizarre. It was unexpected. It was confusing. And what followed was even more unbelievable.

The infrared cameras started off with multiple small orange dots that emerged out of nowhere, moving slowly, occupying half the space on the screens. As they descended to 40 kilometers below, the dots became larger, redder, and began teeming more and more rapidly. The green light allowed the crew to make out small specs in the distance. At 45 kilometers through, they were practically amongst the dots – which had now become full-blown shapes – visible through the panels to the crew who had their jaws dropped in amazement.

Organisms of varied shapes and sizes, some closely resembling the ones back at home, swam right next to The Pod. Riya brought the vehicle to a halt for two reasons – one, so that they could pause for a moment and appreciate, and two, so that the crew could decide on its next course of action.

As they peeked out of the panels, they saw multicolored fish-like eels swimming in enormous schools, a smack of jellyfish-like creatures – only this time they didn’t seem to be floating aimlessly like the ones in the Earth’s oceans; through their transparent bells, the crew could see -

‘Brains?’ Athena blurted out. ‘The jellyfish here on Europa have brains?’

‘This could mean several things,’ Takehiro mused, excited by the finding. ‘One, there’s more oxygen in the water than we thought would be available, courtesy to this magic microbe. Two, the layer of dead icelings matter might have caused some sort of inexplicable obstruction to the collection of data for Zeus I. It showed definite changes in the levels of oxygen varying with the tides, but none of the evidence pointed towards levels that could trigger interesting evolution of this sort. Three…’

‘Three,’ Riya interjected, getting up. ‘I think it’s time we finally go out for that swim.’

Takehiro let off a laugh. ‘Sure,’ he said.

‘C’mon crew. We all did a brilliant job,’ Athena lauded her fellow astronauts. ‘Let’s go interact with some Europans!’

Everyone took turns to go to the depressurizing chamber one by one and set foot outside into the green waters. Everyone was equally flabbergasted, although Takehiro was probably too excited to get back to Zeus II and play with his newfound organisms.

Athena, Riya, and Takehiro spread out in three different directions, each tethered to the Pod by a strong metallic cable. The school of eels swam right past The Pod, coming in close contact with the three of them, curious but not hostile, with a fleeting span of attention. Athena pet one of them, trying to hold it in her hands, but it slithered right through them, moving on to Takehiro who tried to play with it in a similar manner.

‘It’s so intriguing,’ Takehiro’s voice could be heard through their spacesuits. ‘These organisms seem to be evolved versions of our oceanic species but must have such a different perception – ‘

‘What in the name of god is that,’ Riya said, part afraid, part astonished, part curious. A group of organisms – almost as tall as an average human but looking seemingly close to an organism that could be best described as a marine kangaroo – came swimming across to them. It was a small group of three, inquisitive to the commotion caused by the strangers.

One approached Riya, who without thinking twice caressed the region behind its gills, treating it like she would treat his pets back home. The marine kangaroo seemed to love it. ‘Hey guys, look, I just made my first friend here!’ she laughed.

The rest of the two approached Takehiro and Athena, rubbing their mouths over their suits, contemplating whether to nibble it or not. Athena laughed and caressed the marsupial-like marine, thinking about her labrador while doing so.

‘Athena, Takehiro,’ Riya said, visibly surprised. The two turned over in her direction. ‘This one’s carrying a mini marine marsupial!’ she exclaimed, pointing to a small head popping out of the marine kangaroo’s pouch. ‘That has to be the most adorable thing! An extraterrestrial baby!’

She bent over to have a closer look, but in the process of doing so, one of the limbs of the organism touched a switch on Riya’s arm, flipping it on and activating the flashlight atop her visor. The light flashed squarely onto the offspring, and Riya switched it off as soon as she realized what occurred. But it was too late.

As the light hit the offspring, almost all of a sudden, it floated out of its pouch. The small body seemed to have gone lifeless in an instant and was beginning to turn transparent. As soon as it lost all its color, it began to transmit the same green luminescence that they had seen in the structure up above – more intense towards the bottom, gradually fading out at the top. It floated further upward to eventually coalesce into the green skies.

‘No… this can’t be happening…’ Riya expressed.

The marine kangaroo, upon registering the events, turned hostile. It opened its mouth, and emanated a silent scream that only the other two of its companions could hear. The three marine marsupials ganged up on Riya, unleashed themselves on her body, tearing her spacesuit apart and mutilating it. Riya’s screams were muted as the organisms tore the systems apart. Athena and Takehiro watched in horror, as Riya enabled the emergency retraction and exit systems, drawing the two into The Pod and applying the emergency thrusters to zoom back to the surface through the green Europan sky beneath the crust.