Janus fell. Weightless. Again. His sense of self, distant. Soundless, frigid. Reaching for something that was not there, hands finding no purchase. Falling still, a brilliant white crescent filled his field of vision, growing larger. A sudden onrush of energy relentlessly pounded him. Please stop, no more! A jolt.

  The dream lingered ever so slightly, growing fainter, his eyes focused on his watch. ”Zero-six thirty-two. Bed, ceiling, body," he whispered the words. His place in space, re-established.

  No sweat this time. Good.

  A sliver of golden sky on the horizon painted the room in warm light, while shadows cast by small potted plants and a small bookshelf starkly contrasted the environment outside.

  As he slowly woke, reality seeped into his eyes, and he could feel his muscles relax. It had been some time since his last nightmare. "Shit, Venn’s gonna have a field day with that one" - He thought as he calmed his breathing. Janus left his window uncovered, despite the occasional feeling of being watched at night. As his eyes adjusted some more, he turned his head to his right and noticed one red and one amber warning light above his bedroom door. “Shit, condition one and condition two? Better rise and shine”, he thought.

  He forcefully tapped his wristwatch three times as he groggily rose from his warm bed, feeling the cool air brush against his feet. His breathing slowed as he walked to his kitchen, sore muscles stiffening his movements. He settled onto the stool closest to the window and stretched, feeling his joints pop and crackle, the knot in his gut refusing to budge.

  The sleek espresso machine, triggered by the three taps, hissed, then hummed. The bitter aroma of coffee filled the crisp, unfiltered morning air. From his high vantage point, looking out over the vast snow plains of ?gir, surrounded by stubby forests of pine-like trees casting long shadows across the snow, he could see the white-capped ocean, partially obscured by a large, snow-covered, jagged mountain.

  “Good morning Janus, did you sleep well?” a female voice emanating seemingly out of nowhere said.

  "As if you don’t know already.” Janus’s lips curved into a smile, the words holding no edge. “Also, Venn, what’s the weather like today?" He said despite the revealing nature of the vista outside of his window. "Today’s a bit extra chilly, about negative thirty-one degrees celsius, with wind to boot, eighteen meters per second, gusting to twenty-three meters per second from the south." Venn replied. "Haha, that’s shrinkage cold!" Janus exclaimed.

  "I’m glad I’m not a sack of meat like you, dodged a bullet for sure! Also the replacement environment suit is still not finished so you can’t stay out for too long in just your backup gear, but there’s a calmer weather system developing, it will arrive by the evening." Venn’s soft voice had some playfulness to it.

  “Damn it, Venn. What’s the holdup? Wait. Coffee first." Janus exclaimed as he felt a rush of anger, subsiding as quickly as it rose. "Sure, Janus. You do know the 3D printer progress bar can be accessed from literally every screen, right? There’s nothing wrong with the printers." Janus chuckled, gripping his cup a bit too tight, almost scalding his hand. “Yeah, I know Venn, I’m a little on edge this morning, that’s all. The suit design was particularly intricate this time. Sorry”.

  “No worries Janus, but you know we have to talk about your nightmare? You’re at a mental condition two fault state, you know.” “Yes, but we can do that later, Venn, I’m not condition one, yet. And stop calling it ‘fault state’, you’re the machine, not I!” Janus said dryly as the slight feeling of unease made a brief comeback as a pit in his stomach.

  “Oof, that hurts right here, in my mechanical heart, you’re mean!” “Always with the jokes!” He replied, throwing his hands in the air, the pit in his stomach less noticeable now.

  Epsilon Eridani’s rays cast a strikingly golden hue onto the swirling steam of the cup of coffee, as a fierce gust of wind whipped up a fresh drift of snow, dimming the deceptively warm light for a fleeting moment.

  “Any messages from home yet?” Janus said looking out over the desolate landscape “No, Janus, it’s been very quiet. I queried all the relay stations at regular intervals as soon as we faced them.” “Okay… this is nominal, for now.” His brows furrowed, lips turned down almost imperceptibly.

  As Janus inhaled the exquisite aroma of the carefully crafted cup of coffee, he contemplated today’s agenda; The rover had broken down, making long excursions impossible, and the 3D printer was occupied due to a major overhaul of the environment suit, so the production of spare parts had been delayed even more. The manifest of today’s resupply drop was vague and probably falsified, so he could not count on that they had sent the correct parts. The new warning lights were just another brick in the wall, he thought. His jaw muscles tightened as he adjusted his position on the stool, thinking of the anomalous sensor readings from Outpost eleven. No matter. He was stuck at the outpost for now. Peering out the window and yawning, he remembered the days he enjoyed feeling the raw power of the wind, the way it made him feel fragile yet in control. He hoped he could revisit that part of himself today.

  After finishing his prescribed breakfast—Venn insisted on calling it that—Janus moved to the wardrobe as the lights adjusted to his presence. As he put on his woollen mesh undergarments, he longed for the sweet, short summer months of mild temperatures, long days, and the way that they made everything easier. Shivering in anticipation of the coming cold, he spoke to Venn;

  “Remind me, what’s on today’s agenda? I saw the warning lights.”

  “I’ve thought some more about our discussion about the water filters last night and they definitely need cleaning. Our observation report on the star’s fluctuating brightness pattern is due in two days, so you’ll need to review that, and believe it or not, some bolts on the communications mast need to be torqued to spec!” Venn’s voice had a slight amused tone to it. “Just as I feared, and the bolts being loose is weird. Also the star has been unusually quiet this report cycle.” He muttered absent mindedly as he could feel his gut tighten.

  After donning the rest of his backup cold weather gear, being careful to cover any exposed skin, he contemplated the cause of these anomalies—there had been a few lately— as he walked through the ‘airlock.’

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  This wasn’t a true vacuum-sealed chamber, but rather an architectural design choice to conserve energy and protect the indoor environment by limiting the intrusion of the harsh exterior elements.

  As the interior door closed shut with a soft thud, lights flickering, he began to hum—the same melody as always. It was a habit now, the tune lasting just long enough to fill the pause before the outer door unlocked and opened. Glancing up at the flickering light, a hollow ache spreading. “Yep, it’s one of those days…” Janus muttered as snow started filling the air in the room he was standing.

  He stepped outside to a familiar, yet alien world. Hanging low above the horizon, Epsilon Eridani’s rays waded through ?gir’s air. The impatient blues and violets, so easily swayed, left only the orange and golds to paint the landscape.

  The wind snagged his jacket, exposing the breathable layers beneath. A momentary lapse in breathing resulted as the icy air sapped heat away. He had forgotten to tighten his jacket. As he did, the vast valley plains, crowned by forests and mountains in the distance, had him staring. During a slight lull in wind, he inhaled the pristine air. “I never get tired of that view, Venn”, he whispered to his only companion in the entire world. As he leaned against the wind, Venn answered in his helmet headset “It really is something isn’t it?” “Mhm, we’re the only ones able to appreciate this”.

  “What is the size and torque specs for the bolts?” He said as he approached the outside tool storage unit. “Thirty millimeters, two thousand-four hundred and twenty two Newton meters. There’s twelve of them.” “What!? The main bolts are loose?! Why didn’t you tell me earlier, especially with this wind?”

  “I’m sorry Janus, but there are one hundred and twenty eight in total. Nine point three seven five percent of the bolts are loose, which is below the threshold of ten percent for a condition one fault, so I saw no need to rush you.”

  “Venn, that’s a condition one waiting to happen!” Slightly frustrated by Venns behaviour and himself for his lapse in curiosity, he grabbed the bulky hydraulic torque multiplier backpack from the outside storage unit. The tool had a worn, rugged and well-thought out appearance, with a compact display for showing diagnostics to the operator. He made his way towards the communications tower on the hard, wind-sculpted sastrugi-covered snow field. Every step emitting a loud hollow creaking noise, punctuating the frigid conditions. He chose to walk the small hill to stave off the cold despite the near condition one fault.

  As he approached the base of the tower, his breathing was heavy, misting in the frigid air. Craning his neck, he looked up at the structure, a starkly white construction mixing with the light blue sky. Despite being careful not to sweat, he could feel perspiration starting to manifest, a deadly sin in these conditions. His goggles indicated where the loose bolts were located. Buffeted by the wind, feeling its pressure against his back, he worked efficiently, dismounting the torque wrench and preparing it for use. The melodic howling of the wind across the communications mast had a calming effect on Janus.

  “They really have thought of everything, too bad nothing lasts forever.” he thought as he applied the tool to the first bolt, quickly drowning out all other noise with rapid clacking.

  Drawing laboured breaths, Janus methodically continued, double checking and documenting each bolt with the wrench’s user interface, before moving onto the next.

  Despite the meditative qualities of this work, he was unable to control his thoughts sufficiently to hold back the gnawing feeling of wrongness of these anomalies, leaving him distracted.

  “Venn, are there any more bolts that indicate that they might come loose?” “Actually there are,” Venn replied as four new icons faded into view. “They’re not very loose, but I see why you might want to remedy that since you’re already up here.”

  “Thanks.” Janus shouted as a powerful gust of wind nearly knocked him over and brought a fresh blast of drift snow up, making him grab for handholds. “When did you first notice the bolts coming loose? How did it progress?” Janus asked loudly over the flapping of his garments.. “First indication of loosening was zero four twenty one this night, all bolts became loose at the same time, the four bolts you’re tightening now have been loose since last friday, but they only reduced their clamping force by five percent.”

  Rubbing his shoulders and taking a deep breath he replied “Okay. Simultaneous loosening of twelve bolts? That’s probably the wind, right?” Venn replied as he shifted to the next bolt. “Yes, that’s my assessment as well, it coincides with a strong wind gust, and after some modelling and looking at the slight stretch of the bolts, it basically confirms that it was the wind.” “Haha, just the wind, and long bolts that will need replacing.” Janus laughed without any humor as he shivered.

  Static work, exposed to those conditions, was far from comfortable. Shivering, he did a quick brush off on any loose snow that had settled onto the wrench and packed it up into its carrying backpack. Being careful to not trip, he rushed down the small hill, rhythmic, hollow creaking accompanying his every footfall. “Hot damn, that environmental suit cannot be finished quickly enough.” he thought as his brain was jostled by the sharp impacts on the hard snow.

  Halfway down the hill, warmth seeped back into his fingertips and toes—a welcome but brief relief, as running downhill didn’t produce nearly as much heat as walking uphill.

  The jostling weight of the equipment pack pressed against his lower back, each sharp impact rippling tension through his body. Looking far ahead, his breath hitched. Fingers clenched around the straps, his vision narrowed and the hollow feeling was creeping in again—familiar, unwelcome. He slowed his pace and started to deliberately draw deep breaths in an effort to stave off whatever might come of this.

  “It’s happening again, Venn.” “I can see that.” Venn replied. “Good, keep doing that, deep breaths, just like we practiced… I have a bit of good news! The resupply drop is on schedule, I’m expecting it to enter the atmosphere around nineteen thirty this evening, and Outpost eleven has started reporting normal readings intermittently.” “Thank you.” he

  replied tersely.

  Feeling for the sensation of his body, the position of his limbs, the coldness of his toes, Janus managed to settle his churning mind. He resumed his downhill trek at a slower pace.

  As the habitat came into view again, the observation dome on the roof gleaming in the star light, he had completely regained his faculties but the feeling of walking at the edge was still very much present “Fuck, this is getting ridiculus.” He thought.

  “Venn, about the nightmares, I think we need to treat me as having a condition one fault!” He almost yelled due to the powerful wind flapping his garments.

  “Well no shit - ehm I mean good! How about we talk at dinner?” Venn replied with a large dose of humour.

  Janus felt his mood lighten significantly at the unexpected retort, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, sure, it isn’t exactly like I’m having a date.”

  Walking up the windswept ramp to the storage unit, he had to fight the wind as he gritted his teeth. Opening the heavy door, the years of hydraulic oil, solvents and heavy industry so different to pristine outside air came rushing at him. Walking up to the exterior door he looked up at the inconspicuous and faded text to the left of the door, ‘Outpost 8’. He entered the airlock, the outer door making a satisfying thud-click sound as it closed. As it did, his world plunged into darkness.