She glanced at the sky, the white streaks of cloud layered in the fading light. “Damn it.”
He nodded, setting off again.
She followed, pulling the gurney with tingling fingers. Her toes were beginning to burn too. And the temperature was going to keep dropping.
The station lights were close, but the wind was whipping up the snow. It was impossible for her to determine how much farther they had to go. She stared at her companion’s back, using his broad shoulders as her guide. It was harder, now that the snow was blowing, to make out his white coat.
She sped up, walking right behind him.
The cold and exercise were taking a toll. She began to tire. If he hadn’t been two feet taller than her, maybe she wouldn’t be gasping for breath. But he was. And breathing was becoming more like panting.
She stopped, let go of the gurney and stretched her hands. She stomped her feet, tightened the belt around her coat and grasped the gurney again.
She looked up. He was gone.
She felt her lungs empty as the wide expanse of ice stretched out in all directions. The snow pelted her coat, the wind pushed against her. There was no sign of him or the stations lights. Panic gripped her.
She clung to the gurney, her mind racing wildly for some sort of plan, when he appeared before her.
“You want to stay out here and freeze?”
She shook her head. She wanted to cry.
“Come on.” He turned and set off again. This time, he moved slower.
She ran to his side and jogged to keep up.
“You sure are a little thing,” he muttered after a few minutes.
She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. She was shivering and breathing so hard speaking was impossible. But she matched his stride. She didn’t want to be left behind or lost out here.
The station appeared. It rose up, connected to the ground with two tunnel chutes and three massive anchor chains. Lights shone down, illuminating the tunnel door and welcoming them.
He opened the door, following her inside so closely that he bumped into her. The door clicked closed behind them and a dim fluorescent light came on, casting them in a flickering orange haze.
She pushed the gurney into the back corner of the narrow hall, wiping the snow from the temperature gauge. Four more degrees and the booster would be worthless.
It was quiet. It was warm—warmer.
She glanced at her companion, a very different sense of unease coming over her. They’d had a common goal on the ice: finding safety. But now they were safe, sort of. Was she?
He pressed a button beside the chute. Loud crackling filled the hall, echoing.
“Hello?” The voice was clearly surprised.
“It’s Leo.” He paused. “I found someone stranded on the ice. The raider ship popped her rig and she’s stuck.”
“Leo!” Relief was palpable through the com speaker. “Give me a minute to get the chute turned on. See you in a few... Both of you.”
The speaker crackled loudly then went silent.
What was she going to find inside? This wasn’t exactly a hospitable planet, chances were the people that lived here weren’t either. If she had a choice...but she didn’t. She was stuck.
She stared at Leo. “You live here?”
He reached up, pushing the thick white face mask and hood back. He was shaking his head. “No, just passing through.” He smiled at her, a crooked smile. “But these are good people. You can rest easy.”
“Oh.” She swallowed, looking quickly away.
He was a looker, the kind she knew to avoid. His eyes and hair were a rich brown. Deep creases framed the corners of his eyes, and brackets framed his mouth. So he smiled and laughed a lot. Strong jaw, straight nose... And tan skin. Not orange like stationeers. Or near translucent like hers and all ship dwellers, but tan from the sun. He was well traveled.
She was thankful her face was covered. She didn’t like people knowing what was going on in her head. And she was pretty certain Leo would see her reaction to him. One thing was certain, just because a fellow looked good didn’t mean he was good. She’d just have to wait and see about Leo.
A sharp ping made her jump, and the chute light turned green. A loud whirring began, and the hatch covering the chute opened. The room was filled with suction, inviting them into the chute.
“Ladies first.” Leo smiled again.
She blinked at him and moved to the chute. She clamped her eyes shut—she hated chutes—and stepped onto the chute pad. She was shot up, her limbs and head feeling weightless. Her stomach churned, and her skin grew damp with sweat.
And then she reached the top.
She grabbed the ladder handles at the top of the tunnel and climbed out of the hatch. She pushed herself through the heavy canvas and rubber flaps and fell onto the floor of the room outside. She drew in deep breaths and placed a hand over her heart.
A thump-thump filled her ears and she opened her eyes to see Leo climb out the hatch. He saw her and grinned.
“Not a fan of chutes?” He offered her his hand.
She glanced at his hand, pushing herself up unsteadily.
The door to the room opened and a small, bald man walked in. His voice, the voice from the speaker, was excited.
“Marguerite said you wouldn’t make it back, but I told her you were a smart one.” He took Leo’s hand and shook it heartily. “You’ve proven me right and won me a new pair of mittens.”
Leo was smiling. He did smile a lot. “Mittens?”
The man shrugged. “It’s cold on Galileo, Leo. Mittens are appreciated.”
Leo laughed.
The man turned to her. “My name’s Walt. Welcome to Galileo Station. You two made it just in time, it seems.”
“In time?” she asked.
“The blasts are coming early.” Walt nodded. “We had a post from the out-station that says we’re going to be hit for the next two weeks. No in, no out and our com will likely go down—it always does.”
The words filled her ears, rendering her speechless. She glanced at Leo. He was still smiling.
“You need something warm to drink, and dry clothes, or you’ll lose a toe or two.” Walt’s eyebrows rose as he spoke.
She nodded. “I’m frozen through.”
Leo scowled. “You could have said so. You weigh nothing. I could have carried you.”
“Carried me?” Was he serious? He looked dead serious, a little frustrated even. An image of him, carrying her, cropped up. She felt strangely warm. She shrugged, uncomfortable. “I managed.”
Walt shot Leo a look. “Well, let’s get you a drink.”
She followed Walt from the chute room.
This station was like nothing she’d ever seen. Normally, stations were pretty much all the same: stainless and sterile hallways, rubber traction mats and bright overhead sensor lighting that required sunglasses for her large, sensitive, eyes.
Instead painted fabric hung on the walls, thick rugs covered the floor and lamps and candles provided the only real illumination. She blinked, her eyes adjusting easily to the dim.
“We conserve as much energy as we can.” Walt watched her. “Lamps and candles use nothing. But heat, well, heat is something we Galileans can’t live without.”
She nodded, reaching up to unwind her muffler. She pulled it from her neck, surprised by how wet it was. Taking off the hat and mask, she felt the warm air caress her exposed neck and ears.
It felt good.
“You’re a tugger?” Walt asked.
She nodded, holding her chin up. She knew what she looked like: a tugger. She had large eyes for dim living in the black; small frame from cramped quarters; close-cropped, fine, platinum hair and almost translucent skin. She liked the way she looked, it made her proud.
&
nbsp; “Marguerite will call you a pixie.” Walt smiled at her.
“A pixie?”
“A fairy?” Leo added from behind her.
She didn’t turn around or say anything. She didn’t know what a fairy or a pixie was. They must be like tuggers. A different kind of transport rank, maybe?
They followed the long hall until it ended and opened into a large chamber. She was surprised at the amount of people inside. She felt strangely claustrophobic, freezing her in her tracks.
Leo came around her, examining her openly. He nodded his head, raising an eyebrow.
Was he approving of her? She glared at him.
He laughed.
“Leo.” A round, older woman approached and hugged Leo. “I’m so glad you made it back.”
“I told you not to worry.” He spoke with a soft, soothing tone that drew her attention back to him.
“And who is this lovely?” the woman asked.
“I found her.” Leo smiled as he returned to inspecting Riley at length.
He said it like he’d done something heroic.
“You pushed me down.” Riley spoke sharply.
The woman and Walt exchanged looks.
Leo crossed his arms, looking amused. “You could thank me for saving you from those raiders. I’ve no notion what they’d do to something as little and pretty as you, but I’m certain it wouldn’t be good.”
He called her pretty? She had no quick comeback for him.
“I’m sure you meant well.” The woman patted Leo’s arm. “I’m Marguerite, Walt’s woman. And you are?”
“Riley.”
“Riley.” Marguerite shook Riley’s hand. “I’ve got hot tea steeping.”
Marguerite led them to the bar that ran along the back wall of the chamber. The closer Riley came, the more scents filled her nostrils. She’d never smelled anything like it. Warm, sweet, rich... She’d never known protein powder and dehydrated packs could smell so...could smell. Her stomach growled loudly, making Leo cock an eyebrow at her.
“I’ll get you some stew,” the older woman said.
Stew? Riley hadn’t heard of it before, but she was certainly willing to try it. She nodded.
Marguerite smiled. “Leo?”
“Yes, please.” Leo winked.
In seconds Marguerite had two steaming bowls on the bar before them. Riley forgot her irritation with Leo and stared at the bowl in wonder. A tool sat beside it. It was like an engine cap, but smaller and with a longer handle. She lifted the tool.
Leo picked his up, stirring the thick brown contents of the bowl with a strange look on his face.
She imitated him, stirring the liquid and releasing the tantalizing aroma. Chunks of orange and green floated in the liquid. Her stomach rumbled again.
“Eat. Marguerite disinfects all their silverware, so that spoon’s as clean as it can be,” Leo encouraged, using the spoon to fill up his mouth with the food.
She glanced at him then did as he did.
It was so good. So so good.
Her tongue didn’t taste chemicals or supplements.
Each morsel had its own texture and flavor.
Could it be? Real food, seasoned with real spices.
Some stations still grew food, shirking the simulated nutrient replacements that were easier for life in the black. She’d grown up on the stuff. But if she’d known what real food was like...
She took another bite, closing her eyes as she chewed. She couldn’t stop the little groan that escaped as she swallowed.
From the corner of her eye she saw Leo freeze, his spoon halfway to his mouth.
She scooped up another spoonful, beyond caring about anything else. Each bite was bliss, warming her up and pleasing her taste buds beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She emptied her bowl and sat back with a satisfied sigh.
Leo was staring at her.
Marguerite appeared, pouring her a second cup of tea. She glanced at the empty bowl. “Would you like more?”
Riley shook her head. “I would. But I might pop.” She smiled at Marguerite. “That was...something.”
“I’m glad.” Marguerite patted her hand then looked at Leo. “Leo?”
Riley looked at him too.
He sat still, his eyes fixed upon her. His jaw was rigid and his hand gripped his spoon with white knuckles. He was regarding her with such intensity, bordering on rudeness really, that she felt her cheeks go hot.
“Don’t like the stew?” Marguerite asked, a broad smile spreading across her round face.
Leo blinked, his gaze holding hers. “What?”
“Not a fan of the stew?” Marguerite asked.
Riley couldn’t look away. Something about his eyes, the way he looked at her. Was he mad? Did he have something to say? He seemed poised for something.
Leo’s ready smile appeared as he shifted all his attention to Marguerite. “I didn’t want to burn my mouth. It’s wonderful.”
He ate quickly, emptying the bowl and accepting another.
A young woman joined Marguerite, handing her a large basket with a whisper.
“Blast!” Marguerite burst out. “I forgot the biscuits. They might be a bit dry.”
The smell hit Riley’s nostrils, forcing her to lean forward. Such warmth, such richness; she swallowed as she took one of the golden delicacies from the basket. She sank her teeth into the fluffy softness with a moan.
Leo choked. His spoon clattered onto the bar top as he coughed.
She set her biscuit down and jumped up, pounding on his back.
Walt appeared, but Marguerite waved him back with a strange little smile.
Leo slowly stopped coughing, drinking the tea Marguerite held up to him. He looked winded...startled even, but at least he was breathing.
“Okay?” she asked.
He stared at her for a long moment, his cheeks turning red. “Fine.”
She nodded and sat down, picking up her biscuit.
Leo jumped up, as if he was remembering something important. “Walt...”
Riley watched him go before turning back to her biscuit. She enjoyed every crumb.
Chapter Two: Night
“Bath?” Marguerite asked.
Riley stared at her, licking the biscuit crumbs from her fingers. “Bath?”
“Follow me.” Marguerite talked as she went. “Walt is a creative man. He’s learned how to feed the ice directly into the pipes. So, as you can imagine, we have plenty of water. We tap some of the heat and steam off the core vents, for the water and heat. And tonight, a big, hot bath will warm you through and through.”
They came around a corner to find four children busy at work. Riley stared. She’d never seen children. In her line of work, her lifestyle, there were none to be seen. These children were small—smaller than her.
Marguerite clicked, her tone lightly scolding. “You clean this up when you’re done.”
The children nodded up at Marguerite, smiling amidst a pile of paper and string.
“Almost time now,” one of them said, clearly excited.
“Will there be Holiday cookies too?” a smiling little girl asked.
Marguerite nodded her head. “But it’s not Holiday, yet. Two more days, Lylie.”
The little girl, Lylie, squealed with glee. She whispered something to the other little girl and the two burst into ecstatic giggles. Riley watched, fascinated.
“Is there more paper?” an older girl asked.
“Leo brought some more. I think it’s in the pantry of the supply room, Rebecca. Ask Iggy if you can’t find it. Be stingy. You’re not the only ones with gifts to give.” Marguerite set off again.
Riley stared at them for a moment longer, returning Lylie’s smile with s
urprising ease. When she realized Marguerite was gone, she waved awkwardly at the children and ran in the direction the woman had gone.
“How many children live at Galileo?” she asked Marguerite when she caught up.
“Eleven. We’ve another on the way. Lylie’s mother is expecting her third.”
Riley fell silent. Children and families here? On a polar moon on the outer rim? Why here, why not on a Station—someplace safe? She couldn’t imagine living here. Then again, she couldn’t imagine having a family either.
“Here we are.” Marguerite pressed the release button, watched the door slide up and stepped aside for Riley.
A large metal trough was steaming in the middle of a room, filling the small space with moist air. Her eyes adjusted with ease, only one lamp flickered in the corner. “It’s perfect.” Riley started unbuckling her belt and waistcoat.
“There are dry clothes you can wear, there.” Marguerite pointed to a stack of clothing on a nearby stool. “Until I get yours washed and returned to you.”
“Thank you.” She glanced at the soft cloth on the stool, then at Marguerite’s ensemble. If she could figure out the internal mechanisms of an atomic drill, she could manage the lacings and buckles on a frilly smock and skirts.
“There’s soap, there. Stand here when you’re done. The blower will get you dry... Well, mostly dry. Enjoy.” As soon as Marguerite closed the door behind her, Riley stripped.
She slipped into the hot water with a full-body sigh, laid her head back on the tub edge and closed her eyes.
She’d never been in such a predicament. She’d always had a purpose, a job. But she had nothing... She shook her head. No point worrying it to death and ruining the pleasures she’d discovered. For now, she would allow herself to enjoy things like stew and biscuits and baths. After all, there wasn’t really any other choice.
* * *
Riley lay still, her eyes staring about the room.
She did not like this.
Communal sleeping chambers? She was aware of every breath and twitch from her bedroom companions. Some grunted, others farted or mumbled...or did all at once.
How could anyone sleep like this? She rolled onto her side, punching her pillow before flopping onto it.
A Galactic Holiday Page 13
