Aluminum pipes suspended from the greenhouse ceiling expelled cool mist into the air behind Dr. Kanin Cavier. She jumped at the abrupt hiss. Her hands twitched as she applied keiki paste to the axillary bud of the orchid. “I will never get accustomed to that,” she mumbled to herself.

 

She repositioned her hand and continued the cloning process, bracing for the next burst of mist. She finished the procedure, exhaled, and leaned back. The pipes hissed, but this time she heard a whisper: Cutting them, cutting people.

 

Cavier stood and turned towards the locked exit door. The glazing of the window reflected her startled expression against a backdrop of darkness. She turned to her computer and nervously checked the schedule. The next administrative check-in was more than a month away. She was completely alone on this jungle planet until then.

 

You cut the people? Now you are alone?

 

Cavier took a deep breath, returned to the door and opened it. She looked outside but struggled to see beyond the light escaping the greenhouse. “Who’s out there? Supervisor Morian, is that you?”

 

You ran. You cut them and ran.

 

“Who’s there? Why are you harassing me? Do I know you?” She recognized something in the voice. The persistent tone rang familiar in her mind.

 

You know me. You deny the truth.

 

Cavier closed and locked the door. But the voice was inside the greenhouse with her. Her place of work, solitude, and respite now invaded.

 

You cut them. You kept them... alive.

 

“You weren't there! I did my job!”

 

The voice did not answer.

 

Cavier sat at her desk. Her head rested on her forearms, and tears dripped from the tip of her nose. Memories of a past life persisted. I did my job. I did what I thought was right.

 

Pain emanating from the back of her neck pulled her from buried recollections. She raised her hand to her nape and discovered a spiked object clinging to her flesh. The burrs of a seed pod ripped her skin as she pulled it away from her neck.

 

She ran toward the first aid station at the far end of the greenhouse, but collapsed. The soles of her feet, covered in seed pods, bled onto the floor. She cried out in pain, “Where did these pods come from?”

 

They belong to you.

 

“No they don’t. I work with orchids. They’re not even from this planet.”

 

You brought them here. You have carried them since the cutting.

 

Cavier rolled onto her back. Her torso, completely covered in thorny seeds and pods, burned and stung her face and hands. The spikes, thorns and spines penetrated her clothing and skin.

 

“Why are you doing this?” She whimpered with the last of her strength as blood poured from her exposed and raw skin.

 

A thousand cuts for a thousand cuts.

 

With her last breath Dr. Kanin Cavier whispered, “I’m sorry.”

 

* * *

 

The recovery crew landed in the hillock-covered fields of Linaris’s second moon. A temperate breeze teased amber-colored grasses, creating a shimmering effect that flowed from the horizon to a distant treeline.

 

The warmth of the fields, lost on the two men sealed in their EVA suits, held a deadly secret.

 

They made their way through the grass towards the entrance of the underground mining facility. Forty meters before the descending ramp they paused near a mound of vegetative growth.

 

“Juhka, theta level scans and images, please. Thirty-six square meters should be sufficient,” said the first crew member.

 

Officer Juhka removed a microdrone from his satchel and released it. It quickly settled into a search grid pattern above the area. “Hey, Colugo, how long do you think she has been lying here?” he asked while reviewing drone data being fed to his visor.

 

“She was reported missing seventeen cycles ago,” said Colugo, then continued, almost to himself, “and here she is. Being swallowed by the landscape. Another seventeen cycles and we may never have found her.”

 

“Makes you wonder how many of these mounds have people in 'em,” said Juhka.

 

Colugo knelt down and gently raised the arm of the deceased woman. A miner's insignia and identification badge became visible as he brushed away some of the dirt and lichen that covered her corpse.

 

“Soldat Kanin Cavier, Mining specialist,” he read aloud, then paused. “Rest in peace.”

 

“What’s the cause of death?” Juhka asked.

 

“Torn suit.”

 

“I don’t follow.”

 

“This grass is host to a fungus. When inhaled it drives you mad before coating your lungs and suffocating you.”

 

“How long does that take?”

 

“Hours, days, I don't really know.” Colugo wiped his hands together, a nervous attempt to clean them off. “No telling what hallucinations she had in her final hours. Hopefully it wasn’t too painful.”

 

“Too bad she was alone.”

 

“I really don’t think it would've made any difference. At least nobody had to watch her suffer.”

 

The men loaded Cavier onto a gurney. They set the bed to levitate a meter above the grass to avoid disturbing the fungus-infested plants.

 

Wind blew gently as the men walked the body across the peaceful field and up the ramp of the transport.

 

Once pressurized and decontaminated, the men removed their helmets and secured the hovering bed above them.

 

Colugo depressed the intercom lever. “All set in Cargo Two."

“Copy that,” a voice replied.

 

The transport rumbled to life and ascended from the golden fields. The gurney shifted, and Cavier’s lifeless arm dislodged. Her gloved hand swung down and struck Juhka in the face.

 

He jumped back, pain and blood surged from his slashed cheek. He turned to see what had struck him.

 

Cavier's gloved hand opened.

 

A spiked seed pod fell to the ground.