“Well,” William said as he sat up into the frozen air. He felt like he had slept on a bed of crushed gravel. His body ached and rebelled at the thought of getting out of the slight warmth of the sleeping bags. He heard voices. Men streamed outside. One returned with a ration case, the other with an empty crate of snow. Breakfast.
“It’s cold,” a man said in a sleepy voice.
“Cold enough to chill a donkey,” another man replied.
Raw words drifted through the tent as men adjusted to the cold. They chewed on the rough crystals of snow. William put some onto his mouth and instantly felt colder. They tasted alkaline. His tongue felt rough. His thirst was not sated.
“Breakfast I see?” Vito said as he slid through the door and onto the floor next to William.
William handed him a ration bar. “Stick it under your arm.”
Vito nodded and let out a hiss as he placed the bar against cold flesh.
“How are the wounded?” William asked.
“Wounded,” Vito replied as he stuffed snow into his mouth. “Bleh.”
“Doesn’t do much.”
“No, but the tea is a bit late in coming.” Vito scooped up some more snow.
“Can we move them, Vito?”
Vito looked around the room with his soft, dark eyes. “I’m not sure we have the strength to do it, but we can try. Most everyone here is in damn poor health. Broken bones, ribs, contusions, frostbite, and we’re all slowly heading to hypothermia.” Vito coughed in the dry air. “Once the patches run out, most of the seriously wounded will die. Then we can carry the rest.”
“How long?” William asked quietly.
“About forty-eight hours. Less if you decide to ration the patches for everyone else,” Vito said, without making eye contact with William.
William felt the weight of command settle once again on his shoulders. No, he realized, it hadn’t left, he had just forgotten. He became aware of the eyes around the room all sneaking glances in between conversations. He was, for the moment, in command. “Hmm.”
Vito nodded. “Hmm, indeed.”
The decision rolled through his mind bitterly. No option was the good option. “Walk the line,” William said as he rubbed his cold stubbled chin. “Cut off the most injured, try and buy some more time for the less wounded.”
Vito nodded. “When?”
“Once we’re done eating.” William looked around and saw Sergeant Crow watching him. “Sergeant, get a roll call, see what we have here. Organize more search teams, we could use more medical supplies.”
“Yes sir,” Crow replied. “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“You’re doing the right thing.”
“I certainly hope so, otherwise I’ve got a court martial coming.”
“That’s assuming you get out to get court martialed,” Vito added as he gnawed on the featureless, brown bar.
They slowly crept into motion like a cold worm. Men emerged from beneath the sleeping bags and went outside, just because they had no other place to go. The light drew them out, and the cold pushed them back in. William and Vito walked to the entry of the triage tent.
“You don’t have to come in,” Vito said.
“No, I do,” William replied.
They entered and Vito walked down the still line. His eyes studied, checked, and took in what details he could. He stooped and inspected each one before returning to William.
“Sixteen here.” Vito sighed and ran his hand under his cap. “I’m going to pull half.”
William nodded and stood by the door with cold eyes.
Vito knelt next to each and peeled the sticky nanite patch from the neck of the wounded. The patches seemed to resist, to want to grab and stick. Each shimmered briefly in the frosty air before returning to dull black. He laid the patches carefully on the floor.
Vito moved to the blonde woman that the Surgeon had tried to shoot. Her face was a dirty green and yellow bruise from chin to eyebrows. A crust of blood sat below her nostrils. Vito stripped the patch and continued along. He collected the patches and reapplied backings. He turned and walked over by William’s side. He nodded and stood with crossed arms. “It’ll take fifteen minutes or so.”
“What’s going to happen?” William asked, eyes locked on the blonde.
“Most will bleed out internally once the core nanites shut down. In others the swelling of the skull will do it.”
“Will any of them wake?”
“Doubtful.”
William nodded and watched. Time passed by with only the wind as a metronome. A hand went rigid, then relaxed. Breathing became ragged and stopped. Vito walked and checked each after fifteen minutes and placed the sleeping bags over their heads. More men died. An hour later of the eight, only the blonde remained.
“What about her?” William asked as he stood before the blonde woman. The bruising seemed darker, angrier and the blood ran in a thin stream from her nose.
Vito shrugged and walked back to the supplies. He returned with a fresh patch and applied it to her neck. “Lucky.”
“I’m going to stay here. Mind sending some help to move them?” Vito asked.
William nodded and walked out the door into the frigid morning air. Grue stood near the door of the first tent with eyes filled with fire. Another soldier stood and was speaking into his ear. William saw Crow approaching with Corporal Leduc.
“Sir.”
“Sergeant Crow,” William said. “Corporal, get a few men in good shape and help Vito out.”
“Yes, sir,” Leduc replied and turned back to the tent.
William kept his gaze on Grue and watched as he and the other man walked back into the tent. “Shall we get out of the wind, Sergeant?”
Crow nodded. The two men walked to the third tent and pushed inside. A few heavily injured still lingered in sleeping bags. The walls flapped lightly in the variable wind.
“How does it look, Crow?” William asked.
Crow shook his head slowly. “We’ve got a few cases of ration bars, about a week’s worth at the recommended ration. Maybe double that on half rations.” He took his heavy gloves off and blew into his hands. “No water, though we’ve got some containers that would work if we could keep it from freezing. Plus a purifier, whatever use it may be.”
William nodded. Water was going to become an issue and fast. He was constantly thirsty, his lips cracked and dry and his tongue felt like a dry potato in his mouth. No matter how hard he worked he just couldn’t seem to get enough saliva. “Mitsubishi-Kubota purifier?”
“I didn’t see a name,” Crow said.
“Color?”
“Silver and orange.”
“That’s a Mitsubishi then, good unit.”
“I’ll talk to Grue about the reactor, see if we can strip it out.” William looked past him to a young man huddled in a sleeping bag. “Soldier, head out and get the other NCOs. Vito, as well, please.” He sighed. “We might as well make it a proper meeting.”
“Very well, sir,” Crow replied as he breathed more into his cupped hands.
The young man returned. “They’re coming, sir.”
“Thank you. Uh, what’s your name, soldier?” William asked.
“Xinhu, Navy, sir, ship’s welder.” His eyes were rimmed red with lips so chapped they looked white.
William nodded and waited for the others.
The NCOs streamed in and took seats with sleeping bags as cloaks. The air grew colder the longer the door was open. The men hunched and shivered and wondered.
“All right. Let’s start with introductions. I’m William Grace, Midshipman, but call me Grace.” William looked to Crow.
“Sergeant Crow.”
The man he saw earlier in the white uniform spoke next. “Warrant Officer Sebastien Villeneuve, Core Marines.”
The men, staring idly, all turned to Sebastien. William looked closer and pointed to the next man.
“Sergeant Selim, Marines.”
“Xavier Leduc,” stammer
ed a man with close cropped black hair. “Corporal.”
“Berry, Corporal. Army.”
“Vitomir Kovac.”
“So here’s how it is,” William said. “We’re on half ration, we’ve got enough to last us a bit. I want teams heading out and looking for more. Looking for anything, anything that can help us.”
“What’s the plan, sir?” Sebastien asked.
William licked his dry lips. “We go south.” He looked at the reactions of the NCOs in front of him. A few eyes lit up. “I’m looking for some information. On my end, we were to blink in, drop the capsules and blink out. What was the objective?”
The NCOs looked to Sebastien but he kept his eyes on William.
“Secure the needle. That was goal number one. The Marines had a secondary objective, refinery I think,” Berry replied in a slow drawl. He looked around at the other NCOs and they agreed.
“What was the secondary? What sort of resistance was expected?”
“There was a refinery, one that wasn’t supposed to be here. The Army was to secure the needle and hold it while we took the refining array before they could destroy it,” Sebastien said. “We didn’t expect resistance.”
The men around the room nodded. The shock was still lingering.
“Neither did we, this was supposed to be routine.”
“So what happened?” Berry asked. His tone insinuated blame.
William looked at Berry for a moment before replying. “I wish I knew, I was working to support the drop. I was in the dropcap bay. I haven’t seen any survivors that were with the rest of the ship.”
The wind slammed into the shelter like a solid wave. Everyone turned to watch the wall bend bow inward before finally relaxing. The wind had returned.
“Keep the outside time short. Everyone watch for frostbite in your men, break everyone into squads and rotate outside. Questions?” William said.
“What about the wounded?” Berry asked.
William looked to Vito and replied. “We’ve cut off the worst injured with the hopes of keeping the less injured going a bit longer.”
“Why? We’ll have to carry them.”
William looked around to the NCOs. The Marines turned red. “We’re not leaving anyone. We’re stopping the patches tomorrow. Whoever survives is coming with us. We’ve already stopped patches for the most wounded.”
Berry nodded with a slight smile on his chapped lips. “All right, Captain.” He stood and stomped into the cold.
William watched him stride out defiantly. He looked back to the NCOs and saw curious eyes. He needed to talk to Berry and hammer this out.
“All right, we’ll meet up again at the end of the day. Selim, get a ration count and stand a guard on it, you’re in charge of rations. We’re going to allow a full ration tonight, but half tomorrow.”
Selim nodded. “Full rations?”
“Full,” William replied. “Give them one last full meal.”
The men before him were silent.
* * *
Berry bent over and stomped back to the main tent. The air inside was mostly still but the wind seemed to pinch in at every seam. He found Grue and Nur and sat beside them.
“We’re going south boys,” Berry said.
Grue’s eyes smoldered. “I’m not your boy.”
“Calm down, Mr. Grue, I respect a professional.” Berry let the words hang and watched for the reaction. There, the shoulders dropped a bit and the eyebrows relaxed. “Who knows where things might lead us? A professional is always in style.”
“Abandoned. Just shitcanned aside,” Grue said.
“What’s to the south?” Nur asked.
Berry didn’t know and that bothered him. To the south was freedom from the cold, that much he knew.
“What’d you happen to be in charge of on that ship?” Berry asked Grue.
“I worked with the reactor team.”
Berry nodded and shivered. The combination of the aches, chills, and tensions sapped the energy out of him. “We’ll get out of this together. You might need someone who knows how to shoot, right?”
Grue raised his eyes. Thin growths of frost was caked on his eyelashes. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Berry nodded and saw the augment enter the tent and sit. Big bastard, he thought. He dropped the bag away and braved the chill to go and speak to him.
Sebastien nodded to Berry. “Corporal.”
Might as well get to the point. “You going to let that Midshipman tell you where to go?”
Sebastien tilted his head.
“We need to get a comm station going and radio the civilians for help. Ain’t enough here to storm a donut stand,” Berry said with a flick of his wrist. He waited. The silence of the moment grew uncomfortable. Did he hear him? He rubbed his gloves together and looked away from the Marine.
“Rescue,” Sebastien stated as if it was the first time he’d said the words.
“Lay down the arms, get taken in, they’d get a dandy ransom I’m sure.” Berry smiled. Was he getting anywhere? Damned hard man to read.
“Corporal, follow your chain of command. If you have a suggestion, pass it along to Sergeant Crow.” The tone finalized the conversation.
“But sir, you could take the initiative, save these men,” Berry pleaded.
“Carry on with your duties, Corporal, your shift to go outside will be here soon.”
Berry stood slowly and looked down to Sebastien. The eyes that looked back up at him were as cold as the rocks outside. He thought better of continuing the conversation. Can’t squeeze water from a rock, he thought.
* * *
William walked back out into the white bright air outside. He saw blue sky for the first time. It was whipped by low flying clouds. The gripping wind tossed another blast. He braced himself against the side of the tent and waited for it to relent. Vito emerged and the two shambled to the tent filled with wounded.
He watched the wounded sleep the fitful nanite induced sleep. Vito walked around and checked each one with a careful finger on the neck.
“How long ‘til they become hypothermic?” William asked.
“They won’t, not as long as the patches are on,” Vito replied, checking the pulse of the blonde.
“What?”
“Nanites generate heat. As they work and repair they each give off a tiny bit of energy. Add that up and you get a net heating effect. Too many nanites and they can cook altogether, though they normally self-regulate.”
“What about on us?”
“No work, no heat. They may make a bit of energy, but not as much as the seriously wounded. That’s how I decided on who to cut off.” Vito stood stiffly in the crisp air. “Simple thermodynamics.”
William nodded and watched down the line. He squatted onto his haunches and removed his gloves. He touched his dry hands onto his cheeks, they were cold, rough, and raspy. His hands grew cold quickly. He touched his fingertips onto the ankle of a man in front of him. It was warm even through his clothing.
These were his charge. The ones who couldn’t defend themselves. He could leave them to freeze easy enough and he knew it. No one would chastise him for saving what he could. Already it was a daunting task just to survive, but to survive and to move… He stood, put his gloves back on and walked out into the cold.
He found Grue in the tent, covered in a mound of sleeping bags like a hibernating bear. Corporal Berry sat nearby. This was going to be an uncomfortable conversation.
“Grue, wake up,” William said as he slid down and sat in front of him. He pulled a free sleeping bag over him and tried to stay warm. He was still thirsty.
“Go away,” Grue said quietly.
“Can we strip the reactor out of that capsule?” William asked.
“No.”
“Is there any power source that we can take out?”
“No.”
“No there isn’t or no you won’t? I’m not going to let these men die because you decided to.”
Grue raised his
eyes and the anger was evident across his face. “No, as in they aren’t designed to come out, No as in there isn’t any other power supplies.”
“Is there anything that had a portable reactor?”
Grue looked at the floor in silence.
“Grue?”
“Striders,” Grue said with his eyes closed. “We had one capsule with striders, find them and I’ll get you some power. Now leave me alone.”
“Striders,” William whispered.
“Not afraid of robots—eh, Captain?” Berry said coldly.
“Corporal, I’d appreciate some respect, I need everyone working on moving us forward,” William replied.
“Where are you from?” Berry said as he sat forward.
William cleared his throat. “Farshore.”
“Bullshit,” Berry spat. “It burned.”
“Yes, Corporal, it did.” William shifted the sleeping bag off his lap.
“I ain’t got no pity for you boy,” Berry said.
“Corporal, I’m not a ‘boy’,” William said as he stood. “We don’t have to like each other, but we’ve got to work together.”
The two men locked eyes. William knew why he didn’t like Berry, but had no real clue why Berry didn’t like him. The wind slapped the side of tent. The tension broke and William walked to the door. “Corporal, get a detail together, get Grue whatever supplies he needs in case we find the striders.”
He didn’t wait for a reply before walking into the white. He waited a moment and let his eyes adjust to the brightness. A man was running down the hill heading directly for the camp. William walked to the edge of the camp and waited.
It was Private Avinash. He had the face mask pulled down below his chin. His dark brown face was burnt white on the cheeks and his breathing was heavy and raspy. “Sir!” He panted and covered his mouth with his hands. His breathing was labored and sounded painful. The cold air had been searing his lungs.
“What is it, Avinash?” William asked, lending the man an arm.
Trial by Ice (A Star Too Far Book 1) Page 3