by Merry Farmer
“What are you doing?” His patience reached its end. “I spent months putting these supplies together and now you decide to check my work?”
“I’m not checking your work.” Her face was tense and she turned away from him as she packed more of the scattered items from the storeroom into the box.
“For the love of God, this can all wait until later. We aren’t due to reach Terra for another five months, and that’s not counting the time the ship remains disabled after Kutrosky carries out his plan. I, on the other hand, am going to be locked in a remote cabin with a dumb-as-shit soldier in eight hours if your buddy Kutrosky doesn’t get a move on.”
“Help me get these things back in the box,” she ignored him, fumbling a carton full of boxes of matches.
“Carrie!”
She whipped to face him, panic bright in her eyes. “We need to get everything into these crates and move them up to Emergency Ship Five in the executive sector as quickly as possible.”
“Are you insane?” he gaped at her. “There’s no way the two of us will be able to move three gigantic crates from the bottom to the top of the ship on our own without being seen. There’s no point to it either. The emergency ships are a temporary measure, you said so yourself. As soon as Kutrosky’s ship arrives, they’ll restore power to this ship and we’ll re-dock and go on to Terra.”
She shook her head and continued packing the last of the supplies into the crate. As soon as it was full, she slammed the lid shut with a sickening thud.
“We have to move these three crates up to ES5 now,” she insisted. “Risky or not, we don’t have a choice.”
“The two of us alone?”
“Absolutely.”
“But we can’t possibly. Even with anti-gravity dollies, it will take hours. It will take all night and we risk being seen.”
“Danny!” She pivoted to glare at him. “What part of ‘we have to do this’ do you not understand?”
“All of it,” he replied.
She blew out a breath and returned to work.
Danny shifted his weight and scrubbed his chin. There was far, far more to her insistence than Carrie was letting on.
“All right,” he agreed, crossing to help her load the last crate. “We have to do this. So where are all these other cronies Kutrosky is always talking about? Bring some of those nitwits in to help us.”
“I can’t.” She slammed the last crate shut as soon as he laid a tarp over its contents, then circled around the crates and closed all of the locks.
Danny chased her as she passed him and grabbed her arm, spinning her to face him. “Carrie. You have to tell me what is going on here. I’ve invested far too much in this crazy scheme to remain in the dark for one more second.”
She shook free of him and marched away. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“Then I’m not lifting a finger to help you.”
Carrie froze. She turned slowly to face him and rubbed her forehead, looking as though she was might burst into tears.
“You have to trust me,” her voice broke. “Just…just help me move these boxes up to ES5.”
“I’m not doing anything until you tell me why.” He crossed his arms, held his ground.
She squeezed her eyes shut, panic making her breath come in tight gasps. Her eyes darted to his, to the boxes, to the door.
“Fine. You won’t help me? Then I’ll do it myself.”
She jumped across the room to the table that held the slats and controls for an anti-gravity dolly, bringing them back and shoving the slats under the first box.
Danny combed his fingers through is hair in frustration. Something was deadly wrong but she wasn’t going to tell him. He didn’t have time to be stubborn. Eight hours and he would lose Grace.
“Fine.” He sighed, squatting down to help her with the dolly. “But you have to tell me something. I refuse to go into this blind.”
“I can’t tell you, Danny.” She sobbed, jamming her hand against the crate in her efforts to shove the dolly slats in place, sucking her crushed finger. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”
“I don’t trust you.” He yanked the controls from her hands when they stood.
She let out a breath and wiped a tear from her flushed face with the palm of her hand. “I can’t tell you everything because I don’t know everything. All I know is we have to get these supplies up to ES5, and tomorrow, when the power goes out, we have to get Grace onto that ship. No matter what, Danny. No matter what. And then we have to make a run for it.”
“What?” The bottom fell out of his stomach. “Make a run for it? In deep space?”
She nodded, eyes red-rimmed.
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you why.”
Danny hissed in frustration. “This is not the plan. The plan is that we jettison the emergency ships when the Argo loses power, then we wait for Kutrosky’s ship to catch up to us with the code to restore power. Then we all come back. The coming back part is key here, Carrie. We have to get to Terra where I can take Grace to safety.”
Carrie bit her lip. “That was the plan. But Brian….” She hesitated, shifting, eyes darting to the doorway as if Kutrosky were waiting on the other side instead of locked in a cabin in the middle of the ship. “He didn’t tell you everything.”
“Really? I hadn’t guessed,” Danny snapped, thick with sarcasm. “What didn’t he tell me this time?”
“Please, Danny, I can’t tell you either,” she wailed. She snatched the controls for the dolly from him and turned it on. The crate jumped to levitate six inches above the ground. “Please just trust me. He’s…he’s not who I thought he was.”
“Disillusioned so soon?” he sneered.
She shook her head. “He told me it was for the benefit of the people of Terra.” She gulped and recovered herself, staring at him with wide eyes. “Believe me, Danny, you don’t want the people in the ship he has following us getting anywhere near Grace.”
“It’s a little too late for that, isn’t it?”
She sent him a look that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. “Please,” she begged him. “Just trust me. Just help me.”
He shut his eyes, shaking his head. If what she was saying was true, he had no choice. If what she was saying was true. Either way, Grace’s life was at stake.
Kinn followed him. Danny had no idea why. Whether he thought the decision to turn back and fight for his people was just a ploy or whether he didn’t know anything but following orders, Kinn followed him.
They plodded through the forest, gray light filling in the space around them as dawn whispered its way into a cloudy, snowy morning. The temperature rose with the day and the heat from Chronis. Branches snapped and crashed down with the weight of the heavy, wet snow. There was still no sign of human life besides the two of them, bitter enemies with no one else to turn to.
Danny was now certain he’d been wrong to think Kutrosky would leave Grace behind. Whether she would slow him down or not, the man was fixated on her. On her and his transmitter. On Vengeance. In the light of day, he cursed himself for the time he’d wasted hoping a madman would see reason. It was too late now. He needed to get to the river. With the snow still falling lightly and the sun behind clouds, the only way he knew to get his bearings and make it home as fast as possible was to follow the course of the river south.
They were further away than he had thought they were. As fast as they walked, they made little progress. The forest could have been wider this far north or the terrain more difficult, or he could have been too exhausted to keep going at the pace they’d set the day before. He had no idea. He was nearly insensible with pain and exhaustion.
The river was still snowbound when they reached it.
“We’ll rest here,” Danny panted, collapsing against a boulder that looked down over a sharp bank. He pulled his sack around to his lap and searched though it for something to eat, scooping a handful of snow to chew to slake his thirst before he foun
d his water-skin. It was still hard to tell where the riverbank ended and the water began, but it was clear that the river was narrow at this section. It twisted as well, winding over outcroppings of rocks. In the summer these were probably wild rapids. Even now the water might be flowing beneath the surface.
The cold flick of steel at his throat jolted him out of his thoughts.
Kinn stood above him, the blade of his knife pressed to Danny’s pulse. He breathed heavily, teeth bared.
“I’m gonna enjoy killing you,” he growled.
His threat was dampened by exhaustion. Danny thought fast, diving at Kinn’s legs before he could slash. He hit one of Kinn’s knees with his shoulder. Kinn bellowed in pain and crumpled on top of him. His weight pressed him into the snow, cracking the layer of ice that coated who knew how many feet of drift.
For one blinding moment, Danny couldn’t breathe. He flailed for any kind of purchase for his hands or feet. Ice scraped the tender flesh of his face. The edges of his vision faded to black. Then Kinn rolled off of him and skittered several feet away. It was the difference between life and death. Danny sucked in a lungful of air and reached for a branch that scraped the snow. He pulled himself out of the dent Kinn had made in his fall and hauled himself to his feet.
Kinn was still skittering across the packed snow for his knife. It must have been knocked out of his hand when Danny struck him. He crawled on hands and knees, distributing his weight to keep from falling through the crust of ice, and grabbed it. Numb with exhaustion and adrenaline, Danny fumbled for the gun at his waist. He managed to draw it and point it as Kinn rose to his knees, ready to pounce.
“Stop!” Danny shouted. “Stay back.”
His hands shook with pain and the effort to keep the gun aimed at Kinn’s head.
“It isn’t loaded,” Kinn snarled, but kept his distance. He rose slowly to his feet, swaying and heavy.
“I found it with Kutrosky’s things,” Danny bluffed with confidence so bold he believed himself. “Do you think Kutrosky is the kind of man who would use up all his bullets when he knew the enemy was still out there?”
Kinn froze. His stare slipped from Danny to the barrel of the gun. He shifted from one foot to the other, knife held out as if it could somehow best a bullet.
At last he said, “I’m leaving. You do whatever the hell you want. Those people you think you’re gonna rescue are worthless pieces of shit. I’ll tell Grace that you thought they were more important than her when I find her.”
“You do that,” Danny replied. If Kinn didn’t turn his back and leave soon, he’d lose all strength in his arm and pass out. Then he really would be dead.
“You’re never gonna see Grace again,” Kinn added as he turned to go. “None of you are.”
Danny bared his teeth, ready to hurl a thousand epithets at the man’s back as he lumbered off. He could still shoot. He could load the gun, point it at Kinn’s back, and shoot before he was gone.
Grace would never forgive him if he did.
With a heavy exhale, he lowered his arm. Somehow he had to find the strength to reach his friends before Kutrosky did and find Grace before Kinn. Another impossible task. He watched Kinn’s retreat until his hazy form dissolved into the snowy gray of the forest, watched until the swaying movement of his walk vanished. Then he lost his grip on the gun and collapsed into a pile on the snow.
The ice stung the side of his face. He needed sleep. Passing out for a few minutes would gain him nothing. It had been days now since he had genuinely slept. His muscles ached with fatigue. His hands shook with it. There simply wasn’t time to give in. The will to get up and march on was as strong as ever, but Danny’s body was spent. The snow had tapered off to flurries and the sun tried to break through the clouds.
He closed his eyes. An hour. One hour spent lying in the snow, flurries covering him like a blanket, like a shroud, couldn’t hurt him any more than he was already hurt. Kutrosky couldn’t keep going forever. Eventually he would need to stop and rest too. If he could just sleep….
The sharp wail of a baby crying jolted him awake. He blinked, body jerking out of a stiff slumber. It seemed like the blink of an eye since he’d collapsed, but the sun shone above in a clear sky and a thick dusting of snow covered him. He sat still, body aching. The crying continued. It wasn’t part of a dream.
He rolled to his hands and knees, careful not to crack through the layer of ice over the snow, and forced stiff muscles to pull him straight. The world was a bright, almost cheery blur around him. He brushed snow off of his parka, bent to retrieve his gun and tuck the frozen metal into his pocket, and listened.
The baby’s wail was quiet yet distinct. There was no telling where it was coming from. Sounds warped in the woods. He struggled to his feet, the snowshoes making him clumsy, and shuffled forward. The orange-hued light of Chronis and its sun working together slanted down through the branches above. He squinted and willed his feeble eyes to see beyond what they could as he trudged slowly through the trees, always listening. The barest flicker of movement to his right caught his eye. The baby was crying from the same spot as that movement.
“Grace?” he called, voice hoarse and unfamiliar. That voice reverberated through the forest in a chilled echo. Danny pushed himself on in the direction of the movement. Reason told him it couldn’t be Grace. The crying was not from a newborn. There hadn’t been time for her to go into labor and deliver since he’d last seen her. His heart was delirious anyhow. “Grace!”
When he reached a snow-covered lump at the base of a spreading tree, the crying stopped. A new sound, straining, struggle, all muffled, replaced it along with desperate shushing of a woman. Danny half stumbled, half crouched to his knees to get a better look. The mound against the tree was a snow-covered bearskin. He peeled back the corner and a wide, sunken pair of eyes stared back at him.
“Who are you?” a woman’s voice asked. The baby began to cry again. She had covered its mouth to keep it quiet and now it raged in protest.
“I’m Danny,” he panted. “Who are you?”
The woman hesitated, stroking her baby’s head, before answering, “Natalie.”
“Natalie,” Danny nodded. “Are you one of Kutrosky’s people?”
The woman stared at him with terror in her eyes before dissolving into tears. She wailed along with her child, nodding yes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, just kill us quickly. Don’t let my son suffer.”
The twist of pain that filled Danny’s heart at the plaintive plea was worse than any frostbite or blow from a fist. “I’m not going to kill you,” he said, scooting closer. “I’m a doctor.” He didn’t know where the declaration came from, only that it was partially true and he could help.
He pulled the bearskin back to give the woman and her baby some air and sunlight. Part of him expected to find an atrocity, some proof that Kutrosky had abused his people. The worst he found was the woman’s ragged clothes hanging off of her gaunt body.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Go away,” she wept, reaching a dangerously thin hand up to pull the bearskin back over her and her baby. “If you’re not going to kill us outright, then let us die in peace.”
“No one can die.” He found himself speaking Grace’s words automatically. They filled him with purpose. “No one can die.”
“We’re all going to die,” she lamented, cradling her baby with movements that could have been comforting or uncontrollable shaking. “There’s no food. This winter is endless. We’re all going to starve or freeze long before the rescue ship gets here.”
“No. You’re not.” Danny shook his head, pushing the bearskin aside and scooping her up under her frail arms to force her to stand. She kept her face averted, eyes squeezed shut as the sunlight hit her. “There are two settlements to the south of here, settlements with houses, plenty of food stored for the winter. You’ll be safe there, warm, fed.” He fumbled for his sack, pulling out one of the pitiful fruits he’d taken from Kutrosky
’s hut. “Here.”
She stared at the fruit as though it were a mythical treasure, then snatched it from his outstretched hands and bit into it, weeping uncontrollably. Danny could do nothing but stand there and watch her choke as she tried to eat, struggling to keep the scant bit of fruit down.
“Easy, easy. Are…are there any others with you?” His voice wavered as he fought the urge to cry along with her at the horror of what he was witnessing. Grace had been right, Kutrosky’s people were starving and helpless. They needed her. They needed him.
The woman gulped several breaths, pulp sticking to the corners of her mouth before saying, “I left the group at dawn. I didn’t want them to see me die.”
“You’re not going to die,” he insisted. He twisted to search through the blurry forest for any sign of human life. “Where are the others, Natalie?” She was too weak to have gone far from them.
Natalie looked around, confused and afraid. She pointed back through the trees.
“We’ll go get them.” Danny straightened. He helped Natalie to step out of the shallow hole she’d dug for herself in the snow. To his surprise, she wore snowshoes. “We’ll gather the rest of your people together and take them back down the river to Kinn’s village.”
He spoke mostly to bring the plan clearer in his mind. Kinn’s village was closer. They had more supplies. He would be able to help Natalie and whoever was with her down to the bridge and across the river. They could follow the paths to find the village itself, and Kinn’s people would be able to see to them while he organized a group of soldiers to defend his home. He glanced over his shoulder at the indistinct forest as he and Natalie inched slowly forward toward her people. And once all that was done, then he would find Grace.
Natalie stopped after they’d gone only a few dozen yards. “Here,” she said, her voice weak and indistinct. “They should be here.”
Danny blinked and squinted as he scanned the area. All he saw was uneven, snowy ground. He would have given anything to have his glasses back.
