Red Dust

Markus Taft

In the year 2030 a group of five people were shot off into space, hurdling towards a red rock drifting through the cosmos. When they arrived on the planet's surface they searched for a place at which they would establish a colony that would serve as a home for future generations.Their journey ended when they arrived at the portion of Mars known as Memnonia and named colony after it. Over the coarse of many years a hierarchical caste system began to develop, with those who are descended from the original colonists higher up in the caste than those descended from later settlers. "Segregation for the betterment of man kind, signed President Joseph Lockehart, 2154", he said aloud as if hearing himself say it would make it true. Heavy footsteps could be heard approaching the room. He quickly tucked the inaugural letter back underneath his bed sheet. The door slammed open and in stepped a grizzled looking man the size and build of a black bear, "Markus, get to work", the man grunted as he thrusted an ash-stained apron into Markus's hands, "The dead wont cremate themselves." Markus got up, slung the apron over his shoulder and followed the man out the door. When they reached the crematorium Markus let out a sigh and drudgingly walked through the gateway. He held his identification card up to a machine situated on the wall, a light flicked on, passed over Markus's card and then announced, "Markus Taft, aged 22, social rank Omniset", there was a slight delay and then out of a chute embedded in the wall came a shovel and a pair of goggles. Markus stood there for a moment, staring at his utensils, wondering why it had to be this way. He picked up the tools and proceeded to march down the stairs, into the basement, where his grim duties awaited him. He rounded the corner and low and behold, his first stack of the day. Markus placed down his shovel, carefully grabbed hold of the first husk and placed it on a gurney. He watched as the body was slowly sucked into an adjacent oven. He stumbled over to the wall, put his back up against it and slumped down to the floor. "This is my existence", he whispered to himself, tears started forming in his eyes. He'd often wonder why it was that people like him, those descended from the fifth generation of colonists, had the most morbid and dangerous jobs while those in the Interior city had the option to choose their profession. Markus had little respect for those higher up the caste then himself, he thought that they didn't earn their privileges and would frequently express his opinions at protests held just outside the interior wall. A siren blared and red lights began to flash throughout the room, he had left the furnace on for too long. Markus jumped up and darted over to the oven, smashing his fist into the button to stop the furnace from having a meltdown, but it malfunctioned. Smoke started filling Markus's lungs and before he could comprehend what happened, he blacked out and landed on the floor. When he awoke Markus found himself in a small metallic room, handcuffed to a stainless steel table. Across from him stood a tall slender man dressed in a black suit and tie, "Why am I here?" Markus asked. The man didn't answer, instead he threw a news holograph onto the middle of the table, the title read, "Crematorium destroyed, 6 presumed dead, suspect in custody." Markus understood what the man was trying to tell him, "Look", he said the man, "I would never intentionally cause a meltdown!" A smirked developed on the mans face, "Doesn't seem that way in the video feed." He brought up a remote and clicked on a monitor attached to the wall, the feed started playing. The footage showed Markus loading a body on to a gurney and then slumping down next to the wall, his head in his hands. "It seems to us as if you just gave up", the man declared. "Oh..." Markus sputtered out, "I was just thinking..." The man repeated him, "Thinking?", he paused to take notes, "What of?" Markus thought about his next choice of words very carefully and then finally said, "My situation", he cringed knowing he just gave himself up. The man nodded, turned around and stepped out the door. Markus sat there in silence for a few moments before two armed guards marched into the room and escorted Markus out the door. The scent of ammonia grew stronger as they walked further down the long hallway, passing different interrogation rooms and holding cells until they finally reached a pressurized door with the words "Repair Room" inscribed on it. The guards opened the door and threw Markus into the dark room. He started to protest, but realized that he would just be wasting his breath, this was going to happen and there was nothing he could do to stop it. A vent opened up and an odorless gas started to seep into the room, bright orange lights flashed through his eyes as the memories of his life began to trickle out of his mind. After a few moments a voice came over the intercom, "You are Markus Taft, aged 22, social rank Omniset and you work in the Niobium Mines." Markus stood there there wide-eyed for a moment and repeated, "I am Markus Taft, aged 22, social rank Omniset and I work in the Niobium Mines."