I wrote this for a Cebt contest a long time ago (over a year, I think?), and it's been sitting in my compy since. But now that there's a whole section for this stuff, I figure, why not share it?
The Price We Pay
Mark opened his eyes to see glowing blue circles rising all around him. Realizing that he was standing on a telenode, he quickly stepped off and looked around. He was in a typical war base in the corner of some abandoned factory, with machinegun turrets carefully arranged in a semicircle, protecting the precious telenodes and the reactor from harm. Mark walked over to the armoury, hurrying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the telenode. He knew very well that they do more than teleport, as they had just done - if he were to die, the telenodes would be used to bring him back to life. The concept frightened him. It seemed unholy somehow, as if they were playing god. But deep down, he knew the war would have long ago been lost without that technology.
Mark pulled a rifle out of the armoury and joined the rest of the platoon, who had teleported down before him. Most were crouching behind the turrets, and a few brave ones were venturing out together. Mark wasn't looking to die just yet, so he positioned himself behind the safety of the turrets.
"Yo Mark," said a voice nearby, surprising him. He turned and realized that he had sat down right next to Blake, a guy he had met onboard the ship.
Mark grunted in reply. Leaving the relative comfort of the ship had put him in a bad mood.
"Wass'matter, did ya teleport down without ya tongue?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if I had."
"Man, ya need to trust technology a bit more, y'know? Consider yaself lucky to have those nodes...ya're practically invincible with those things aroun'."
"Yeah....like fucking superman."
Blake laughed, but Mark's face remained stony. It was WRONG, what was happening in this war. He was afraid of death, but he was more afraid of what would come after.
There was quiet for a few moments, and then shouts were heard, then shots, then screams. Mark turned to look at the telenodes, curious in spite of himself. Sure enough, one of the men who had left the base materialized in one of them. The man looked around, took in his surroundings, and wordlessly jumped past the turrets and rejoined the battle. Mark watched glumly. It was WRONG.
Minutes passed as he crouched there. Hours passed. Days passed. It got to the point where everyone had gathered their courage and was actively fighting, except for Mark, who wouldn't leave the base. He never said it out loud, but it was because he was afraid of the telenodes. Blake usually stayed with him, out of friendship, and they would share grim laughs together. The aliens were mostly quiet, but when the bastards struck, they did it quickly and terrifyingly. One time Mark and Blake were taking a couple minutes off from their guard to eat, when a huge purple alien pounced into the base, slaughtered a quiet guy named Jeff, destroyed a turret and pounced away. By the time they had put down their lunch and picked up their weapons, the alien was nowhere to be seen, the base was in need of repairs, and that damned telenode had been needed again.
Six days had gone, and both Mark and Blake had managed to avoid being killed. They were sitting in their usual positions behind the turrets, their rifles held loosely and their attentions wandering, when a voice crackled through the comm.
"Alien base severely damaged! We managed to destroy their overmind! Everyone attack, everyone attack!"
Blake jumped up, but Mark remained frozen in spot. He wouldn't be able to avoid it this time, would he?
Turning back to Mark, Blake jestured with his rifle and yelled, "Come on!" There was no time for argument. Mark reluctantly stood up, jumped past the turrets, and followed Blake into battle.
They ran this way, then that way, maneuvering in territory unfamiliar to Mark. Blake knew where he was going, and he kept pushing towards their goal, not looking back at all. Mark, on the other hand, couldn't stop looking back, and up, and all around. He was terrified that one of those small aliens would jump them out of nowhere. After a few minutes of this, he was incredibly jumpy.
"Where are we?" He asked. "Are you sure you know the way?"
"Shh!" Came the reply. "We're right outside their -urk-"
Mark screamed as Blake crumpled to the ground, with an alien claw deep in his chest. He began firing wildly at the alien, who tried to escape, but couldn't get away fast enough.
"Oh man...oh man...." Mark breathed. He looked at Blake's corpse, already colored red from the steady stream of blood pouring from his wound. He swallowed hard. There were telenodes, he reminded himself. Blake wasn't dead, he wasn't gone. But somehow that didn't give him much comfort as he stared at the body.
The attack finished shortly after. The alien base had been destroyed, and only a few small green aliens had managed to escape. Mark hurried back to base with the rest of the attackers, and was surprised by a familiar sight when he got there. Blake was there, crouching behind the turrets like always. Mark felt a mixture of relief and disgust, and after a short hesitation, went over to him.
"Hey." He greeted Blake. "How are you feeling, Superman?"
He received only a blank stare in return.
"C'mon, Blake, don't you remember that?" Asked Mark, put off by this response. "Remember, when we talked about telenodes the first time we sat here...."
"Mark, what'choo talkin' about, man? We just got off the ship. We aint never sat here before!"
The two soldiers stared at each other, one horrified, the other confused.
"No...." groaned Mark. "Tell me it's not true, tell me it's not true."
Blake couldn't figure out what the problem was, and had no comfort to offer.
Mark got up, and ran over to another soldier who had recently died.
"How long have we been here? How long have we been on this planet?!" He shouted, his eyes wide.
"Justa few hours..."
"No....no....nonono...."
He tried again with a few more soldiers, and soon there was no avoiding the truth. The platoon watched bemusedly as he punched a wall, then yelled at the pain it brought.
"Uh, are you okay?" One asked.
"NO, I'M NOT FUCKING OKAY! DON'T YOU PEOPLE SEE WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"
Apparently they didn't.
"Jesus. Fucking Jesus. Can't you see? Your memories are erased! It's those damn telenodes....whenever they bring you back, you forget everything that happened since you got here!!"
A couple soldiers laughed. Some stared. Others turned glumly back to their activities. Mark looked at them all, silently pleading for them to respond, to believe, to care. But nobody said a word.
----
Things went back to normal almost immediately after. In the following days, the soldiers continued to attack the aliens - who had somehow rebuilt their base in a different location - and they continued dying. Mark no longer spoke to them, and simply guarded the base as usual. He couldn't even bring himself to talk to Blake. All those days (only six? It seemed like more) that they had sat together in the beginning, those days they had gotten to know each other, and shared jokes - it was all gone from Blake. How could they talk again? It was all so wrong.
So Mark sat alone behind the turrets, day after day. He was the only one who remembered, the only one who knew the truth. Every so often, someone else would figure it out, but it wouldn't last - soon enough he'd die and it would be forgotten again. Only Mark made sure to live, made sure to keep his memories alive.
It was a miserable time for Mark. He had never felt so alone before. It was as if only he had been on this planet for a month, and everyone else kept arriving anew. They were full of courage, always ready to fight, and Mark was so wearied by it. What was the point? There would be no winners in this war. Even if the aliens were defeated, what would be left of the soldiers? Who knows how many years of their lives would be erased by this terrible war?
One month turned to two, and things just got harder for Mark. Then one day, out of the blue, a realization hit him. This battle had to end one way or the other, right? And since he sure didn't want to lose, that meant they had to win somehow. Supplies were running low, so if they were going to win, they had better do it fast. And how would they win if he wouldn't help them?
With this renewed sense of purpose, Mark began leaving the base. He was always the most cautious of the platoon, which gave him an edge against sneaky aliens. Slowly he worked up his courage, going out for longer and longer excursions without dying. Soon he became the best fighter they had, because he simply had the most experience. He knew where all the nooks and crannies of this place were, he knew how best to dodge aliens, and where to hit them to make sure they wouldn't hit back.
A few days later, Mark decided the time had come to destroy the aliens in this place once and for all. He organized the entire platoon, making sure they were all armoured and using weapons suited to them. He worked out a battle plan - the first few would attack from one side, and then run, causing the aliens to chase them. Then the main force would strike from the other side, wiping out the base and finishing off these vile creatures.
They struck. The first force completed their task commendably, managing to pull almost every alien from the base. Mark was leading the second force, shouting orders through his comm and blasting away with a pulse rifle. Half the eggs were gone before the aliens realized what was happening and rushed back to the base. Mark ruthlessly shot down alien after alien with his formidable gun, but people around him were dying. He had grown used to seeing his comrades fall, of course, but right now he needed them. He stepped over Blake's body to get a better shot at a purple alien, then nearly tripped over Jeff....where were they all? He needed them now!
Another egg down, and all of the big aliens dead. This was it. He could FEEL victory. Running towards the last egg, Mark suddenly experienced something strange - he couldn't move. Something was holding him still.
"Noo!" He yelled, twisting, trying to get free. But he wasn't going anywhere. And then he saw one of the tiny aliens running towards him. He tried one last time to jerk free, and then the spider was on his face, its jaws tearing his skin, ripping him apart. He had never felt such pain before....he longed for it to be over, for it to be done....
Back in the base, a telenode registered that Mark had been killed, and loaded his bio details, which had been saved when he teleported down to the planet. Rematerialization process began.
Mark opened his eyes to see glowing blue circles rising all around him. Realizing that he was standing on a telenode, he quickly stepped off and looked around. He was in a typical war base in the corner of some abandoned factory, with machinegun turrets carefully arranged in a semicircle, protecting the precious telenodes and the reactor from harm. Mark walked over to the armoury, hurrying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the telenode. He knew very well that they do more than teleport, as they had just done - if he were to die, the telenodes would be used to bring him back to life....
