“Avi, sir, please.” He smiled.
William smiled in return. “Okay, Avi, what has you so excited as to run back to camp?”
“More survivors. A trio coming in, sir.”
“Get inside,” William said, as he walked to the ridge that Avi had came from. The wind seemed to relent until he crested the stony rise. Before him lay the path they’d have to take. South. Beyond were low hills, scarred ground and snowdrifts that shifted daily. A dim capsule was visible on the horizon that they hadn’t seen when the weather was worse. A group of men stumbled forward, dragging a sled behind them. He rushed down the low slope to meet them.
Selim and Aleksandr each pulled on the sled while the other two men barely stood on either side. It was heaped with sleeping bags and lashed tightly down with raw black electrical wire. William grasped the rope and pulled. The group was met by more men, one of the newcomers fell and was carried to the tents. A new wind was rising and the clouds darkening.
The tents felt balmy in comparison to the outside where the wind drove the nails of frost. Though even indoors the walls fluttered and created drafts.
They pulled back the sleeping bags expecting to find a corpse, and instead found a jockey. The man on the sled wore a heavy control suit. His temples were covered in the telltale darkness of a carbon interface. No patches were visible on his neck. A slender cord snaked along his body and was tethered to a stout looking box. A reactor.
The second man was short and thin and crumbled in the middle of the room. The others stripped his mask off and draped a sleeping bag over him. He was shivering uncontrollably, almost violently. His body temperature had dropped near that point where hypothermia would roll in unchecked.
The last man stood defiantly in the center of the room like a prize fighter. He pulled a shredded mask from his face and looked around the room. His eyes were dark brown and surrounded by worry. He stripped off a glove and held out a nanite tattooed hand to Sergeant Selim and then William.
“I am Eduardo Gomes Rodriguez Gonzales, Technical Sergeant, and you have my thanks,” Eduardo said sincerely and in a low raspy voice.
His lips quivered while he restrained himself from shivering. He shook the hand of each man around him, clasping tightly with both of his cold hands. His eyes burned brightly as he locked his gaze on each. The tattoo on the back of one hand was of an angel standing on a mountain and buffeted by winds. It shook and grew brighter with every handshake, the figure standing sternly. The other tattoo of a somber cross, dark and cracked.
The survivors all stood in silence. The white elephant in the room was the man connected to the reactor. No one quite had words for the moment. The desperation that many had felt softened, while the excitement rose.
The wind shrieked in through the entryway. Grue entered with Berry, a civilian named James and a Private named Nur. Vito came not far behind. Grue walked angrily across the room and kneeled next to the reactor.
He looked up angrily. “Where did you find it?”
Eduardo looked down his nose at Grue. “It is mine, from my capsule, from my strider.”
Grue tilted it and began to unscrew the connectors on the side.
“What are you doing?” Eduardo called out. He took two quick steps and pushed Grue weakly.
“Stop!” William yelled. He worked his way forward and grasped Grue by the shoulder pulling him away.
“Get your hands off me!” Grue shouted back. He rolled his shoulder and stepped away. “Do you want to freeze to death? We need to get this hooked up to a heat sink.”
“Hess will die!” Eduardo protested. He stood, shaking. His tattoos had shifted, the angel was now bracketed by flames.
Vito stepped forward and knelt next to Hess. He peeled back the protective liner from a nanite patch and applied it to Hess’s neck. Vito sat back on his haunches and looked down at the man.
“He’ll freeze…” Eduardo said softly.
Vito shook his head. “The patches will keep him warm and help him heal.”
Eduardo sunk down onto the floor and nodded. The burden of keeping his men alive had passed, at least for the moment, to other men.
Grue stood and brushed past Berry. Berry looked at the dimming room and followed him outside. Nur stood a moment later and followed.
A team was dispatched into the cold to strip heat dissipation coils off of the nearest capsule. The reactor was disconnected gently, gingerly, and with the watchful eye of Eduardo keeping everyone on task. Even Grue was silent when Eduardo's raspy voice called out instructions. Conducting cord was run between the tents. The capsules cooling fins were wired in with a slab of cold rock as an insulator to keep them off the floor.
The reactor was stocky and featureless except for the power connectors. It was controlled by a slim panel that flipped down with the most basic of maintenance tasks. When all was hooked up the chilled eyes all went to Eduardo. He was like a creaking old man laid next to it. His hands were chilled and the tattoos seemed muted and gray.
He touched the tip of his tongue to his upper lip and tapped on the screen. All of the survivors who could walk had crammed into one tent to watch. To observe the Promethean emergence of a fresh new energy. With an undramatic tap the screen slid back into the beveled housing and Eduardo slid next to Hess and covered himself up with the sheer sleeping bag.
The men watched the fins before them. It was gray and flaked with white patches of oxidation. The fins were of a fierce nickel iron niobium alloy that reveled in the heat. Not so much the atmosphere but that wasn’t an issue as they wouldn’t be pushing that much heat through it.
The greedy eyes all coveted the heat. Men held out hands before them with white and brown palms aching in the cold. A single drop of water slid down one of the cooling fins and fell as liquid. It landed as ice but everyone saw it. A barely audible gasp went out as the heat slowly radiated.
For the first time since they awoke battered and cold, they had heat.
CHAPTER THREE
The Cut
The night was finally warm, though only warm in relative terms. A drip could exist but only in the center of the room. Everyone huddled and shook, none wanting to get too close, and none wanting to be too far. Throughout the night the cooling fins pinged like an out of tune banjo.
The greatest downfall of the twanging fins and the meager heat was the moisture. What had been air as dry as a desert now seemed to deposit moisture. It seeped into gloves, sleeping bags, and clothes. The dry crispness slowly changed into wet chill or frozen crunch. Men awoke not to a dry shiver, but a steadily growing moisture seeping into everything.
William sat up stiffly and pushed the sleeping bag aside. The dim heat radiated on his cheeks. He sat and let the waves of thermal energy seep in. It was like sitting on the far edge of a campfire on a cool spring night. The tent shook and the air shifted inside, stealing away his brief moment.
The room slowly began to awaken. Men peeked dirty faces out from dampening sleeping bags and watched, waited, for someone else to be first up. William stood slowly and stooped over to grab his mittens. He jammed his fingers in and gasped in surprise. Dampness.
A man walked out before William and returned with a container of fresh snow, setting it near the heating fins. The snow slowly lost the hard razor crystalline edge and shifted to a sponge like texture before disappearing into a dampening mass. Everyone moved closer and stood in close contact, waiting. Half ration bars were passed about in silence.
The time was approaching to go. William knew it. He knew south was the only way, regardless of what it held. Staying was certain death, even if departing was as dangerous.
A voice spoke in short staccato bursts. “She came down like a rock. When we came to we were near the ship, the capsule was split and the striders were wrecked.” Eduardo licked his lips and watched the snow melt. “We moved south to the ship, she was broke and smashed. She’s right next to a foggy water.”
More eyes lit up around and the men listened.
&
nbsp; “She was broke on the spine and emptied out like an egg. Wreckage everywhere, just crash. Crash,” said Eduardo. “So we went back to the striders and got one working enough to listen for the fleet, and we heard the commset from up here. So we came.” He held a hand out before him and flexed his fingers near the coil.
“How far?” William asked.
“Two days, eh? Maybe, eh?” Eduardo replied.
“What about the water?”
“Rock shore mostly, a lot of fog.” Eduardo shrugged.
William focused and tried to remember the polar orbit position. There was a land mass, with a series of smaller islands between it and the main continent. But which where they on? The polar mass was a solid sheet of ice, so they were on one of the islands. Or did it just look that way from orbit?
“We’ll set out for the shore first thing in the morning. Eduardo, can you make the reactor rig portable?” William asked.
The men looked to each other and nodded around him. Most at least. Grue notably scowled.
“And what then, Grace? Go swimming?” Berry asked in his smooth drawl.
William was waiting for this. “Actually, Corporal Berry, we’re going to go for a boat ride.”
Chuckles came from across the room and heads turned to watch Berry smirk with angry eyes. “A three hour tour?”
“If we’re lucky.” He smiled back. “We’re on an island north of the main landmass. Once we get clear of this, we can make our way to the needle.”
“And what then? Drown in the water? Surrender?” Grue stammered angrily.
“I have no intention of surrender, we’re going to take the needle.”
The slick wind was the only sound as the men, battered and beaten, looked back at him. Thin smiles broke out on a few, while most just nodded.
“Now, we need to work up sleds and a mode of transport. We leave in the morning. Questions?”
The room was silent. William nodded. “Right, once the tea is done, get on it.” He waited on the water and watched as the NCOs prepped the men.
Breakfast slid down like a lump of coal rinsed with liquid frost. The water was still cold as hell, and it was hard to take more than a gulp at once. The ration bar, or half of it, began to lose any flavor as the taste buds numbed. William was already dreaming of real food.
* * *
William walked out into the light as the discussion behind him was on which method of cooking a chicken delivered the greatest flavor. Eduardo was giving a very robust defense on the virtues of roasting. The crisp light hit him. He caught his breath and slid the facemask up. The dim warmth was totally wiped away and his mittens stiffened.
He stuffed his hands under his arms and shuffled to the tent with the wounded. The air inside was slightly warmer than outside. Only the thermal creaking of the fins made any noise. Only four of the wounded remained. Eduardo’s companion, the unconscious blonde, and two unconscious men. Vito sat near the heater fins and waved him over.
“Vito,” said William as he squatted near the fins.
“Did you eat?” Vito offered half a ration bar.
“I dined already, but thanks.”
Vito nodded.
“How was the night?”
“Two died.”
“Two? Everyone off the patches?”
“Von Hess is on one, but he’ll be off by the end of the day.”
“Who?”
“The strider jockey,” Vito pointed to Eduardo's friend.
“We’re going tomorrow, Vito. What do you need to move the wounded?”
“Besides a vehicle? Sleds maybe, but William, they’ll freeze to death.”
“Talk to Eduardo, see if he and Grue can come up with something with the reactor.”
Vito nodded slowly, and spat into the snow. “Where are we headed?”
“South, Eduardo found water.”
“Water? That seems a bit unusual.”
“Warmer currents from the south, maybe?” William shrugged.
“And when we get there?”
“Ahh, well, I’m still working on that one.”
William walked back into the cold air outside, but this time had his face-mask up and ready. Men were moving about and collecting wreckage. A single sled was already wedged into a rock. It looked to be an outer casing of aluminum with electrical wire as a lanyard. He followed a fresh group heading out and helped to scour for more debris.
* * *
Berry huddled under his sleeping bag and snatched glances to the pile of ration cases stacked on the edge of the room. The tent was too tight, the quarters too close, he’d need another way.
“Grue,” Berry whispered.
The man raised his eyes from the floor. “What?”
“Are you in?” It was the first question Berry had posed in a long time without already knowing the answer.
Grue returned his gaze to the floor and nodded.
“I’m going for a walk.” Berry nudged Nur and sat up stiffly. The wounds felt aged, rough, but getting better. He dropped the sleeping bag and ruffled his jacket. He’d be due outside for his next shift shortly. Might as well meet them outside, he thought.
The chill was shocking in its intensity. He tightened his jacket and stumbled along the edge of the tent. There wasn’t a person in sight. He slid his way up towards the tent with the wounded and stood listening to the wind.
Below him sat the barely visible tip of the stake attached to a tightened loop of coated wire. He squatted down next to the wall as if huddling from the cold and worked to remove it from the stake.
“Why don’t you come inside?” Vito asked from around the corner.
Berry froze. The loop was still locked into the stake in front of him. “Your stake worked loose.”
“Oh?” Vito walked closer and squatted down. “Hmm, I’m going to check the rest.”
Berry nodded and walked towards the other tent.
“Thank you!” Vito called.
Berry waved and found another stake to wiggle and work on in silence.
* * *
The day went on like those before with wind punishing those outdoors while those inside listened to the incessant howls in dread of when they would have to go back out. The slabs of aluminum, once covers to the dropcap supplies, now made an ideal sledge. Each had gussets on the lid that acted as slight skis helping them track straight. The only downfall was they required weight at all times. When empty they flipped and acted as a giant sail.
A slight break in the clouds and wind hit about mid afternoon and the work hastened even quicker. Supplies were piled nearby and the rocks were studded like a porcupine with the wedged sleds. The only concern was deflating the shelters and stowing them away.
A dim black line appeared on the horizon. At first it looked like a shadow crawling until a dark wall of storm clouds began to loom. The boiling and reeling front edge crashed in and over itself like a shattered wave on a stony shore. In a few short minutes it was upon them with a howling roar. Outside of the tents was only a wall of white. Travel between tents was impossible.
The men tried to move but all were driven back with mouths, eyes, and nostrils packed with silty white crystals. The snow itself didn’t even have time to form proper flakes and instead was like chips of ice slammed against everything. It slowly seeped through the seals and against the flaps of the doors.
The men sat and watched in wonder and awe as the violence only increased. The blasts they had felt days before ended in an hour or two. This storm just seemed to be getting started.
“Spread out!” William shouted as the walls of the tent seemed to rise and buckle.
The men scurried around the tent and slid near the walls. The fabric, a weave of materials without a definable grain, strained and popped as the loads shifted. The floor lifted in the center before setting back down in a quivering flutter. The domed shape generated enough lift to momentarily levitate the shelter.
William huddled in his sleeping bag and watched the men around him. Most sat wit
h eyes closed, though some huddled tight to those around them and watched the walls. Eduardo sat close to the reactor and watched it with an idle eye. The walls slapped against his back like an angry fish.
“Do you think the sleds are still outside?” William asked Sebastien.
“Maybe, we’ll see.”
William watched him a moment and tried to see any enhancements. He’d heard of the Core Marines, but had never seen one up close.
A sudden crack boomed over the wind. The men sat upright, looking around fearfully. Eduardo leaped out of his sleeping bag and tapped on the control panel of the strider reactor.
“One coil is out!”
William slid along the floor over to the reactor. The floor shuddered under him.
“The medical tent?”
“No, no, the other,” Eduardo replied as he slammed his fingers down on the console.
William rushed to the door flap and felt the wind pushing against the overlapping panels. Each blast strained the doors. Could he open it? If he did would the interior billow and pop?
Crow came to his side and held the cable in his hands. “We can follow it out.”
William nodded and grasped the slick black conductor. Tero came alongside and shed his sleeping bag. Kwesi ran up and tied a piece of electrical cord around his waist.
“Like Kwesi!” William called. “Pass us some more cable!”
Men scrambled and patted and odd handfuls of electrical conductor came up front. William collected it all and the group tied off. Spare jackets came up and the crew prepared as best they could. In the back of the room Grue and Berry were arguing, Sebastien stood near with a cocked head.
“They’re already dead! Open that door and our tent goes, too. You’ll kill us all!” Grue yelled as he climbed over people to get to the door. His eyes were wide, filled with white. The corners of his mouth were flecked with spittle along his gray chapped lips.
“We’ve got to look!” William shouted back.
Kwesi grasped Grue by the hand and looked him in the eyes. “Man, if you were out there, you’d want someone to be looking, too!”
Trial by Ice (A Star Too Far Book 1) Page 4
