By Dawn's Early Light

by Jason Fuesting

  “Where’s everybody else?” she asked as she pushed herself up and stood.

  “Dunno,” Jeff replied. “I finally had the energy to move around just a bit ago. You two are the only ones I’ve seen.”

  “Well, we should probably search for them,” Eric said. The two nodded. “Jeff, you want to go back that way, following the cliff? I’ll go this way. Figure we go five or ten minutes and come back?”

  “That works,” Jeff agreed. “Make some noise, keep our eyes and ears open in case they’re buried in the snow too?”

  Eric nodded. When he looked over at Leah to see what she was thinking, she looked away. What’s her problem?

  “Before we go, check your masks like the crew chief showed us on the way down. Let’s make sure everything’s working right. I don’t want anyone wandering off and freezing to death,” Eric told the pair. He covered the intakes on his mask and sucked air in. As expected, the mask clung harder to his face as he breathed in. No unexpected sucking noises or strange burning smells, and the seal’s still good. “Mine’s good.”

  “Mine, too,” Jeff echoed.

  “I’m not sure,” Leah said. Eric moved to look at her mask. She raised her hands. “No, it’s okay. I’m just shaken up.”

  “Oxygen?” Eric asked.

  “Should have a few hours left,” Jeff said.

  “Me, too,” Leah added.

  “Okay, we’re set. Meet you back here in, say, fifteen minutes or so,” Eric said. Jeff nodded, and started to move out. Eric took a few steps, watching Leah out of the corner of his lenses. She hesitated, glancing between the two of them. Make up your mind, woman. Eric shrugged and pushed on.

  “Wait,” she called. Eric looked over his shoulder to see her struggling to catch up.

  “We’ve got people missing, Leah, and that storm’s still coming. This cold isn’t helping. I can barely feel my hands or my feet.”

  “I know, I know,” she panted apologetically. “Me, too.”

  The pair trudged on for several minutes without speaking to each other before Eric stopped to catch his breath.

  “I’m not sure anyone’s out this way, Leah. They should’ve heard us, or we should’ve heard them.”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking--”

  “What?”

  “Over there, Eric, something red.”

  Eric followed her outstretched hand to a small rise topped by scrub ahead of them. One of the snow-covered branches glistened red. The wind picked up and the limb bobbed out of view. He glanced upward. Oh.

  “Leah, wait here.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think you want to see this,” Eric said, stepping toward the rise. He heard her follow him a few steps and stop. Eric made his way up the rise and hesitated before he could see over the brush. More blood spots on the snow.

  “Is it Svoboda?” Leah asked.

  “I don’t know,” Eric called back.

  “It’s that bad?”

  “No, I don’t see anything yet, I’m not sure I want to.”

  “You don’t have to, Eric.”

  He looked back at her. “Yeah, I do, Leah. Whoever it is, I owe it to them. Would you want to be left out here, lost? Abandoned?”

  She looked at her boots. “No.”

  Eric sucked his breath in to steady himself, and pushed forward the last few steps. He held a hand up to forestall Leah. Clinically, he knew the bloody ruin in front of him was one of his group, the parka was a give-away, but the scene’s totality refused to register. Limbs were twisted at unnatural angles, blood spattered.

  Rock. He hit rock.

  “It’s one of us,” he told her mechanically, “Still not sure who though. Wait there.”

  Stiffly, he pushed through the brush and knelt by the corpse. It was staring skyward, but the mask’s lenses were thoroughly spider-webbed. Eric reached out and stopped just short of touching the mask. No. Eric rocked back on his haunches, putting his chin to his chest as best he could with the mask.

  “Lord, receive this man into your waiting arms. He has been long from port and long from home. May he find rest and safe harbor wherever he has gone,” Eric whispered to the whistling wind and leaned forward.

  Gently, he pulled at the mask’s chin, prying it upward. He felt the seal slip, blood ran out from under the mask. The corpse gurgled and wiggled slightly. Eric jerked back, ripping the mask off by accident.

  Oh fuck! Fuck, what do I do? Svoboda? I can’t tell!

  The man’s features were nearly lost in the mass of caked blood and his nose had been broken, flattened by the impact that had smashed the mask.

  The man’s eyes flickered open and focused on him momentarily. He gurgled again and spat a froth of broken teeth and blood. Eric realized the grunts that followed weren’t random, he was trying to speak. Eric leaned forward and then stared at the man in horror.

  Barely intelligible, the man begged, “Kill. Me.”

  “How?” he managed. “I don’t have anything to do it with.”

  A tear slid from the man’s eye.

  “Fuck. Fuck me. Fuck me running. Buddy, what do you expect me to do? Strangle you? I don’t have a knife.”

  A sob behind him startled him. Eric looked over his shoulder. Leah stood at the edge of the brush, a knife in her shaking hands.

  “Take it,” she sobbed.

  “Leah--” he started.

  “Take it!” she snapped at him, shaking harder. Eric eyed the knife and cautiously reached for it. She nearly dropped the knife when his gloves touched it. Once it was in his hands, Leah turned and ran back the way she’d come. Fuck, why me? Eric turned to his fallen comrade. At the sight of the knife, the man weakly smiled.

  “Thank. You,” he coughed, nearly gagging on blood as Eric pulled open the parka.

  “You’d do it if I were the one dying, right?”

  The man gulped, nodding weakly. Eric fought to keep his emotions down as he lifted the man’s chin. Damnit, damnit, dammit.

  “Be at peace, brother,” Eric sighed as he closed his eyes and pushed the knife in. The man gurgled, jerked for a few seconds, and went still. Eric opened his eyes some time later. Life had left the man’s eyes, leaving them disturbingly empty, vacant, like glass made to look like eyes. Eric tugged the knife free and looked skyward. Lord, what have I done? A myriad of thoughts and feelings whirled through his mind mirroring the snow drifting down from the clouds. Guilt. Horror. Sadness. Lost in his thoughts, Eric jerked when something touched his shoulder.

  “Eric?” Leah asked.

  Locked inside his head, Eric didn’t answer.

  “Eric?” She shook his shoulder. “I think I see the others, Eric. We have to get moving.”

  Eric blinked. Others. Moving.

  “Right. You’re right, we have to get moving,” Eric forced himself to say as he looked at the body before him. He wiped the blade off in the snow and forced himself to his feet. Several shapes in parkas were wallowing through the snow from the direction they’d left Jeff.

  “Are you okay?” Leah asked.

  Eric glared at her through the mask, fighting back sudden anger. “Would you be? I just killed a man, Leah. No. No, I’m not okay. I’m very not okay.”

  She backed away a few steps, hands up. “I’m sorry, Eric. I-I don’t know what to say.”

  Eric shook his head, and looked over her shoulder. One of the approaching group was carrying someone else on their back. This just isn’t going to get any easier, is it? He sighed, “Go see what happened to the rest, Leah. I need a few minutes to myself.”

  Leah nodded, and trudged off. Eric glanced down as he turned to the body, realizing just how he’d been holding the knife. Shit, she probably thought she was next. Idiot. You’re fucking this up. Eric glanced at his mask’s oxygen indicator. Forty minutes left at current settings. Got to get off this mountain.

  A glint off metal in the snow next to the body caught his attention. I really shouldn’t do this, but we’re out of choices. Eric knelt and pulled the de
nted oxygen canister from the snow. He paused again, considering the still form. I didn’t even ask your name. I hope wherever you are, you understand.

  Eric leaned in and rifled through the man’s pockets. After pocketing what he found, Eric stood and stumbled his way to the approaching group.

  “Eric, Leah told us what happened,” Svoboda said from Jeff’s back.

  “Not really wanting to talk about it, old man,” Eric cut him off.

  “Fair enough. Let’s get to the tree line, then. There’s a few tricks I can show everyone that should make moving in this mess a bit faster. You should at least thank Doc for picking up your case. You left it back where you met Jeff.”

  “Oh, sorry. Thanks, Doc.”

  “No problem, you mind carrying it? Two cases are a bit much.”

  “Yeah, give it here. Seriously, sorry, I’m not normally this forgetful,” Eric said, realizing Doc was also lugging the black survival case the air crew had dropped.

  “Don’t worry,” Doc replied, handing over the case. “We’ve all had a lot on our minds.”

  As the group moved down the mountain, Eric held the knife out, hilt first, to Leah.

  “Keep it, I’ll find another,” She told him. A few steps later, she handed him the sheath.

  “Stop here. Put me down,” Svoboda told them shortly after they crossed into the trees.

  “Won’t argue with that,” Jeff huffed, slipping Svoboda to the snow. “What’s the plan, boss?”

  “First, take this hatchet. Second, we’re going to need at least eight pieces of wood for each of you guys still walking. We don’t need huge hunks of wood, just branches between a quarter and a half meter in length,” Svoboda told them and then paused. The man glanced at the trees around them and then made a small circle with his thumb and forefinger. “Actually, just bring back whatever you can find about that thickness. We can make it work.”

  “Anything else?” Jeff asked.

  “Yeah, don’t get too far apart from each other. We don’t know what kind of predators are out here, and there’s only so many weapons to go around.”

  “Predators?” Leah asked.

  “Yeah. Watch the snow. We’ve passed tracks of a number of different animals since we left the cliff. Not sure what all’s here, but if I had to guess I’d say rabbits, deer, and there’s at least one set that looked like a large cat of some sort.”

  “Large cat?” Leah asked, glancing about.

  “Relax, they weren’t that fresh. If it’s anything like the cats from back home, it was probably looking for shelter and won’t bother us. Get going, no telling how much time we have left before this storm really gets started or how bad it will get when it does,” Svoboda told her.

  As group began to set out, Svoboda glanced over to Eric. “Mind staying here, Eric?”

  Eric nodded, resting his hand on the knife. “Sure? Wouldn’t I be more useful gathering with the rest of them?”

  “I’m not exactly mobile and don’t really want to find out if I’m wrong about predators the hard way,” Svoboda said. “I’m obviously injured. If they’re going to try to drag any of us off, it’ll be me.”

  Eric looked about, casting his glance back the way they came and along the mounds of snow.

  “If they’re cats, you’re looking in the wrong place, son. Look up. The smaller ones will be in the trees more often than not in normal weather. Remember that, since we’ll be here a while,” Svoboda told him. “Now, help me get propped up against this tree. My back is killing me.

  Eric got his arms under Svoboda’s and drug him over to the nearest tree.

  “Much better,” the man sighed. “Clipped a few rocks on the way down. Doc did a quick look over as best he could. He’s pretty sure nothing’s broken, just bruised and sprained to hell and back. Haven’t felt this beat up in at least a decade.”

  “What were you doing then?”

  “Jumping out of perfectly good starships.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Svoboda grinned. “Son, the shit I did when I was your age, you wouldn’t believe.”

  Eric regarded him doubtfully.

  “Have you ever done ship to ship boarding?” Svoboda asked. “I’m not talking through a docking clamp, here. Both ships still under power a few clicks from each other with just you, your suit, and nothing but faith in God and your calculations between you and a long stay in the black?”

  “Why the hell would you do that?”

  Svoboda grinned. “The things you do for God and Country, lad.”

  Eric shook his head, keeping a wary eye on the countryside.

  “Speaking of things you do for God and Country, you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened earlier?”

  Eric glanced at the older man warily for a moment before softly saying, “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

  “Why might that be?”

  Eric sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, but words didn’t come.

  “Eric, you know it’s all right, don’t you?”

  “How can it be alright? I just murdered a man.”

  Svoboda chewed on his lip for a moment. “You gave the man a harsh mercy, lad. Leah told me what he looked like. There’s no medical care here. You had no choice.”

  “I don’t know that. We. We don’t know that.”

  “No, not for certain but the odds aren’t in anyone’s favor. Still, that’s beside the point. The fact is, he was a dead man but his body hadn’t caught up to it yet. You ended his suffering. It was not murder.”

  “It feels like it.”

  “It always does the first time.”

  Eric stared at Svoboda. “The first time? How many men have you killed?”

  Svoboda’s face sank, “I’ve done exactly what you did for other people, and it doesn’t get easier. They didn’t do anything to justify killing them. You have a good heart, son. That’s why that bothers you. A good heart, a warrior’s spirit, but not enough experience to know what to do with them.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Svoboda shook his head with a wistful smirk. “Where I grew up, what you did is not asked for lightly. By our standards, you’re no longer a child, Eric. What you did took heart and courage to face what needed done regardless of the personal cost. I know you don’t feel proud, none of us ever do.”

  “But why me?”

  “Why anyone? Would you rather save yourself the pain you feel now, knowing that he’d still be lying there waiting for the inevitable?”

  “That’d be horrible.”

  “And that’s exactly why you’re not a child anymore. Adults understand life is pain and sometimes you choose pain for yourself to spare others. I’m sorry that the first lessons in that are as harsh as they have been for you.”

  “Lessons? Plural?”

  Svoboda cocked his head to the side before realization dawned on him, “Right, brain injury, memory. You’ll remember sooner or later. When you do, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. Until then, anything else bother you beside the act itself?”

  “I didn’t ask the guy his name.”

  “Go on.”

  “I just,” Eric frowned, “I don’t know. Someone should remember him, that’s all.”

  “And what if he wasn’t a good person?”

  “So what? He was someone’s son. Maybe someone’s husband, someone’s dad. It just bothers me to know I took his life and don’t know who he was,” Eric said, pausing a moment to ponder what was really going on in his head. “I’m just being silly I guess.”

  “No, you’re not. Remember that regret, Eric. It doesn’t matter why you’re doing it, killing should never be easy, even when it’s for the best of reasons. When it starts to get easy, that’s when you should worry about what that says about you. You hear?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Good. One more thing, since the others should be back soon. Keep that knife on you and ready at all times.”

  “Why?”


  “I’m not going to say I’m an expert on Protectorate exile worlds, Eric. It’s something we knew of, but not through first-hand knowledge. The Protectorate dumps people on them and usually leaves them to their own ends. As such, exile worlds tend to be lawless planets. I don’t know if that’s the case here or not, but stay on your toes in case it is. Don’t trust a single person we meet until they’ve proven they can be trusted. Perhaps not even then, since we’re all here for one reason or another.”

  “You’ve mentioned ‘we’ a few times now, Svoboda. Who is we? You’re clearly not referring to the Protectorate.”

  Svoboda started to speak, but stopped. Eric heard snow crunching seconds later and looked. The others were returning.

  “If it comes to it, there will be time enough for that story later, Eric.”

  “This is what we could gather quickly,” Jeff said as they laid out wood of varying sizes and thicknesses out in front of Svoboda. At Svoboda’s direction, they used rope from the black case to modify the boots they’d been given. The man explained that the mesh of sticks would spread their weight out over a larger area, making it easier to travel. Using the remaining longer poles, they fashioned a primitive travois to move Svoboda with.

  “Okay, swap canisters if you need to. Let’s get moving,” Svoboda said. “Snow’s coming down harder, so be careful where you step. Keep an eye out for anything that might look like shelter. Looks like it’ll be getting dark soon, we need a place to bed down for the night.”

  Onward and downward they trudged with Jeff dragging Svoboda and the cases on the travois. With the improvised snow shoes, making progress started off easier, but as the trees and brush steadily thickened, their pace slowed again.

  “Careful, drop off up ahead,” Leah called back. “Hard to see, circle wide.”

  “Stay clear of the edge, no telling how much weight it’ll hold,” Svoboda warned.

  Several minutes later the group found a route around the drop. As they came down the slope Svoboda remarked, “That looks like a shallow cave. Let’s check it out. Wind is primarily coming from upslope, this might be our best chance.”

  On investigation the drop-off turned out to be a sizable rock overhang. Jeff eagerly set Svoboda down. At the man’s direction, Jeff and Doc went to gather fallen wood where they could while Eric and Leah did their best to clear out an area to build a fire. Later, Svoboda walked them through how to properly stack the wood their comrades had gathered, pointing out the necessity of ensuring air flow to get a decent start.