Mists of Deception

by

Pepper L. Bauer

Currents of golden mist swirled sinuously around Jacob's head as he strode purposefully towards the cubicle that served as his home on Tara. "Tara," he mimicked the travel vids sarcastically to himself, "the beautiful planet, inhabited by friendly, passive natives." He vigorously snorted his irritation.

"I find nothing beautiful about this damp air, golden or not," Jacob said aloud to no one in particular as he continued his walk. Pulling a hanky from his jump-suit pocket, he blew his nose with gusto, silently cursing the renowned mist that did nothing for him but give him a sinus headache.

Slowing his pace and squinting at the surrounding walls, Jacob finally recognized the pulsing light pattern that identified his living-cubicle. Visibility being so poor on Tara, all addresses consisted of specific light sequences, and it usually took the human inhabitants a while to memorize their personal code. Unfortunately, Jacob had been on Tara long enough to know his sequence as well as he knew his own mother's face.

Pressing his palm to the recognition panel, Jacob activated the automatic door. It silently slid open, allowing him to enter his compartment, accompanied by clinging tendrils of the golden fog. He sneezed violently, collapsed into the nearest form-fitting chair, and with eyes squeezed tightly shut, waited until the air purifier cleared the air of the last trace of mist.

Tentatively, Jacob opened his eyes and spoke to a woman quietly standing next to his chair. "I can't stand it here another day Lorraine, we've got to get off this planet."

Lorraine shook her head, long blonde hair swinging, and gracefully lowered her lithe, fashionably dressed body into a chair next to his. She touched his hand. "You know we can't leave Jacob. Your offworld rotation isn't finished yet. You would lose your position at 'The Company'."

As Lorraine retreated to the tiny efficiency kitchen to make him a drink, Jacob mulled over the foolish expectations he held when he first arrived on this godforsaken planet. This assignment was his ticket to the top. No one at "The Company" ever made it to the topmost of the heap without accepting offworld assignments. In addition, Tara was a plum. This planet imported more of "The Company's" engines than all the other inhabited worlds put together.

No one was sure what the Tarans used the engines for, but they paid their bills on time, and with any currency "The Company" dictated. The job almost did itself. Jacob knew it would be idiotic to leave before he completed his rotation, but there was something about this planet that was setting his nerves on edge.

Jacob was born and raised in the Midwest Corridor of the Northern Continent of the Americas on Earth. He loved the wide open spaces and unobstructed views of the beautiful flatlands. In contrast, Tara's golden mist masked everything in fog, obscuring all landmarks. There were no views. It made him claustrophobic.

Because of its golden beauty, Tara is one of the prime honeymoon destinations in the galaxy. When Jacob and Lorraine first arrived, they thought the golden mist was wonderfully romantic. They would sit in front of the glass walls of their living compartment with a glass of wine, while watching the swirling designs. It rivaled "fireplace snuggling" at home on Earth for pure contentment.

After a while the mist lost some of its charm, then it became maddening. Jacob swore he heard strange voices and noises shrouded by the golden fog that he couldn't identify, and couldn't see. He was becoming paranoid. Now, he always kept the curtains drawn across the glass walls. He decided that honeymooning couples loved the mist only because they didn't stay on Tara long enough to hate it.

The next morning, as Jacob finished dressing for work, he reassured Lorraine that he wasn't going straight to "The Company" and quit his job. "I'm O.K.," he repeated for the umpteenth time. "I feel much better now. Getting away from that blasted fog for a few hours does wonders."

As Jacob stepped through the sliding door, the golden haze closed around him and the familiar tight feeling in the pit of his stomach came rushing back. Shaking it off, he turned to the right and started walking briskly towards "The Company" office building several blocks away. Lighted markers adorned the end of every block, so intellectually Jacob knew where he was, but even after living on Tara all this time, walking while staring into what reminded him of golden cotton still gave him an insecure feeling.

There was no public transportation on Tara. It wasn't needed. The planetary officials confined all non-Tarans to one small area of the capital city for fear they'd wander off and get lost in the mist. Even so, people disappeared all the time, so it was prudent to obey the rules and not try to explore.

Gratefully, Jacob arrived at his office, tucked safely away from the outside air, and settled back in a comfortable form-chair. Closing his eyes, he addressed the day-planner computer perched at the front of the desk. "Planner, schedule please." "Welcome sir," the computer articulated, "you have a meeting in one earth hour with the Taran Procurement Representative at his office."

Jacob sighed. Back out into the blasted mist.

An hour later, Jacob found himself squirming on an uncomfortable chair while studying the impassive face of the Taran seated across a desk from him examining sales reports. The natives of this planet were renowned for their passive, excruciatingly polite natures, and this guy was no exception. No hint of emotion betrayed itself in his perfectly chiseled features. His face resembled a mask.

Jacob wasn't sure why, but something about the Tarans gave him the "willies".

The Procurement Representative finally stirred and looked up. "Everything seems in order," he droned in a flat monotone. "Excuse me one moment while I leave and confer with my superior."

After the Taran left the room, Jacob stood up and stretched. Restless, he explored his austere surroundings. It didn't take long. Taran decor was just as bland as their personalities.

Suddenly, in his peripheral vision, Jacob noticed a corner of plastipaper sticking out from under a neat stack of files on the desk. It seemed out of place in the impeccably neat office. "Finally, something interesting," Jacob muttered as he peered closer.

There was some sort of drawing on the sheet, but the files hid most of it. Jacob moved closer to the desk and surreptitiously nudged the pile over a few inches to get a better look. "They're drawings of 'The Company's' engines," he breathed.

Nervously looking over his shoulder, Jacob turned back to study the sketch. It looked like a mechanical engineer's layout of proposed engine applications. If the Taran would only stay away a minute longer, maybe he could find out what they used so many of the engines for. After studying the sketch for several minutes, it became apparent that the engines pumped something out into the air. What?

"Wait a minute," Jacob thought excitedly. "It's the golden mist! It's not a natural phenomenon; it's fake. They manufacture it."

Totally engrossed in the drawing, Jacob didn't hear the Taran re-enter the room until an impossibly strong hand grasped his wrist. "What are you doing?" the expressionless alien intoned. Somehow, the Taran's total lack of emotion made the situation more ominous.

Jacob tried to pull his wrist away from the Taran's iron grip, but it held firm. "What are you looking at?" the Procurement Representative repeated forcefully, his fingers digging viciously into Jacob's skin.

Without warning, the alien slammed his hand down hard on the desk, the sudden crack of sound echoing off the bare walls. Frozen with fear, Jacob stared hopelessly as the menacing being inexorably pulled him closer. Abruptly, the Taran turned and headed for the door, effortlessly dragging Jacob across the carpet.

Reflexively, Jacob pulled away. Planting his feet firmly against the floor, he jerked his arm back. Caught off guard, the alien tripped on the chair leg, lost his balance, and fell sideways, cracking his head on the desk corner. He lay alarmingly still.

Hesitant, Jacob crept forward and poked at the Taran's body. It seemed lifeless. "Shit," he groaned.

Jacob looked at the Taran's head. There was something odd about the wound. He could see no blood. Peering closer, he detected a hissing sound inside the lifeless skull. Something inside sputtered and sparked. Reluctantly he poked at a loose flap of skin. "By the moons of Jupiter," he swore. The Procurement Representative was an android.

Jacob sat back on his heels and considered the situation. This Taran wasn't a real being. What if none of them were? That would explain a lot about their culture, or lack of it. Why are androids pumping golden fog all over an entire planet? What are they covering up? The puzzling questions made Jacob dizzy. He had to get out of this office and tell someone what he knew.

The sudden buzzing of the Taran's personal communications device interrupted Jacob's contemplation. A mechanical voice filled the cubicle. "Number 102, please confirm the status of your negotiation. Has the deal been consummated?"

Jacob panicked. Struggling to his feet, he burst out the Procurement Office door and into the smothering mist. Blindly racing down the corridor, losing all sense of direction, he banged into walls and people, phantoms in the golden air.

After mindlessly running at full speed for several minutes, truth gradually penetrated the terror, and Jacob realized that he had no idea of his location. There wasn't a light marker in sight. "Oh God, no," he moaned. He was going to be one of the idiots that everyone talked about. The ones who disobey the rules, get lost in the fog, and never return.

Without buildings or lights, being engulfed by the golden mist was very much like entering a sensory deprivation chamber. Jacob's mind stretched out desperately with all five senses, trying to pick up anything that would anchor him in reality.

Sensing a shape in the fog, Jacob turned and slowly walked towards it. His arm brushed against something solid and stuck. "What now," he whined, while unsuccessfully trying to pull his arm free. It wouldn't budge.

Standing perfectly still, Jacob tried to remain calm and think the situation through. It occurred to him that it was just his jacket glued to this thing. If he could slip out of the coat without touching anything, he should be able to get free.

Maneuvering his body to one side, Jacob started to manipulate his arm carefully out of the sleeve. It was almost free when he noticed a slight movement in the air currents. It was almost a breeze. The fog swirled around him in a fantastic, macabre dance, creating visual openings in the honeyed haze that appeared and disappeared at the whim of the eddies.

Jacob stared intently into the twisting liquid gold, hoping to catch a glimpse of civilization. He started to make out shapes in the mist. His arm was stuck to an enormous "monkey-bar" like infrastructure.

There were other objects near Jacob; straining he could almost make them out. What were they? The explanation was tickling the edge of his mind, if he could just concentrate and grab on to it.

Suddenly, with a feeling like a blow to the stomach, Jacob knew the answer. The strange shapes were other people in the same predicament as himself. Even as he called out to them, he realized that they weren't moving any longer. In fact, when he could catch a decent glimpse of the closer forms, they looked wrapped up with some sort of silky thread material.

Hysterical, Jacob began to scream and yank at his sleeve, desperate to break free. His other arm swung back; his hand barely touched the bar and was firmly captured by the glue. Nauseated, he knew then that it was over; there was no more point to struggling.

Drained of emotion and resigned to his fate, Jacob hung limply by his arms on rubbery legs that could no longer support him. After several hours, he sensed several large forms moving through the fog. The apparitions were at least five stories high. The ground vibrated and the air surged in front of them creating the breezes that allowed Jacob to catch glimpses of his surroundings.

One of the giants stopped in front of Jacob, towering over him. He could feel warm moisture dripping on him from above. He strained to see the creature through the yellow muck.

Abruptly, the golden mist cleared one last time for Jacob, and the explanation to every mystery about Tara became painfully clear, for all the good it would ever do him. He knew what the mist was hiding, why androids masqueraded as Tarans, and what happened to all the people who disappeared into the fog. And with a sense of profound sadness, he predicted his own fate, as he gazed up at the distinctive spider fangs of one of the true inhabitants of Tara, poised directly above his head.