Baby, it's Cold in Space: Eight Science Fiction Romances

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Baby, it's Cold in Space: Eight Science Fiction Romances Page 14

by Margo Bond Collins


  The comlight flickered but no reply came.

  The comlight flickered again.

  Wall had managed to send a message.

  A glimmer of hope rose in Ewan’s heart as the vessel took off.

  Chapter Two

  A PROXIMITY WARNING BUZZED AN ALERT, waking Jody from an uneasy sleep. Stomach pain, sweats, chills, and the dead eyes of the lieutenant combined to rip a restful sleep from her grasp.

  From a distance, the ATV regarded the descending hoppercraft. She looked up at the sky through the port in the ATV. “Hey, sun, you ever move?”

  The sun sat primly in the middle of the sky taunting her while the EVA suit chronometer told the real story. Sixteen hours and the sun hadn’t moved. Neither had she.

  “Oh, so you expected it to be warm just because it was sunny?” Jody tapped the atmospheric panel. “Ooh! One whole degree warmer. And here I forgot my swimsuit. But if it’s so cold, why am I so sweaty?” She felt the sweat beads trickling down her face. Her eyes focused to the hoppercraft circling the crash site.

  It was definitely the scientist, Stewarts.

  During transit he’d kept up a periodic hail, repeating his trajectory and his ETA. It was annoying.

  Luckily, Stewarts kept forgetting to turn off the com, and his companion was hilarious. It was always Six who reminded him to turn the comlink off. Jody had a sneaking suspicion that Six knew the entire time, every time, and liked to tease. Smartass techs had their ways. She couldn’t wait to meet the woman. Man? Six’s androgynous voice wasn’t giving her any clues.

  But the “Stewarts and Six Show” kept her mind off the memory of Zappo’s dead eyes. Dead before impact… No one would believe that report, not unless she’d killed the crew before trying to commit suicide. She didn’t want to think about it. The specter of her own near death haunted.

  Half concentrating on the hoppercraft’s winding descent, she reviewed her options to continue her mission. She would have to continue to play the lowly payload specialist around Stewarts and Six.

  Then she had to escape this frozen nightmare.

  That was going to be tricky without an escape ship. Scanning the perimeter again, Jody decided it was time to meet this antipodal duo and begin her mission in earnest.

  ***

  The glare of snow and ice was blinding as Ewan and Six arrived at the crash. From the air, the scene was not as bad as Stewarts expected.

  “Ah the drayage, another box in space, courtesy of the Cordoba Constellar Conglomerate. Fuselage is intact, sort of.” Ewan said.

  “And one wing is still on,” Six added in bright sarcasm.

  “As crashes go, landing in a flat tundra is not bad. I mean, yeah, there’s that monster trail of debris behind it.”

  “Are we going to continue to make light of it? There were crew aboard, one survived.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry Six, you’re right. It’s hard to imagine.”

  “I understand, it’s a human thing. Black humor. A natural reaction to horror.” The meter-high robot turned its head and cocked it at Ewan. “The scan is showing someone alive was here. But they’re not here now.”

  Six didn’t need to voice Ewan’s concerns. Four dead humans aboard, none of them Wall. No new communications from the payload specialist either. Was she dead?

  He felt a twinge of guilt when he realized he was relieved she’d died while he was en route. If she was still alive and suffering he would feel responsible for every minute of her pain.

  Six continued, “The payload is missing something. There is a large gap in the stacks where something—possibly an ATV unit—was stored. The computer aboard was accessed before it shut down.”

  “Where the blazes is she?”

  “I do not know.” Six said. “But I am tracking that storm that we saw in the distance. It is moving far faster than we anticipated.”

  “We need to find that tech.” Ewan said. “She’s still in mortal danger.”

  “That’s going to be difficult.”

  “Find her. I know you can do it.” He took an extensional out from his jacket and synched it with the portable workstation. “There must be ATV tracks, I’m going to have a look around for them.”

  The pop of the drone’s tracking plates engaging with the hoppercraft’s gridded floor accompanied the sounds of the vehicle’s rattling descent.

  The hydraulics hissed as the hatch opened. Ewan disembarked and went towards Ebudae’s wreckage.

  “Maybe it’s not a total bust. Maybe there are some supplies and equipment I can salvage?” He stopped himself and shook his head in admonishment. “Six, remind me, is the ATV unit equipped with cloaking shields to prevent life sign detection? I seem to remember something about that.”

  “Yes,” Six said as they bent to attach a long set of anchoring connectors from the hoppercraft to Ebudae. “Anthropology units use them when observing evolving cultures. They use reflective shield technology.”

  “I’ll scan for tracks. You look for anomalies and see if we can’t find her and that ATV. Assuming she’s in it.” He held a small analyzer extensional in his hand. “I still don’t get why anyone would run off from a crash site.”

  “Disorientation. Battle shock. Trauma.” Six began to list the medical reasons. “But I believe that is no longer a question.” Six pointed. “She is approaching.”

  “Oh, thank the stars. Keep monitoring that storm, Six,” Ewan said with a furrowed brow. He turned up the glare shield on his EVA helmet. “This was not the glamorous life I was promised. I’ve lost a ship’s load of supplies and the extra tech they were sending is dead. Now how am I going to get ahead in this contest?”

  Six rolled up to his side. “We have the equipment. You have me. I am a multi-capable drone.”

  “You’re a medical drone that I’ve doctored.”

  “I see what you did there.”

  “I’m not sure how you did that, Six.”

  “I will take it to my grave,” Six waggled their hand at Ewan in an undignified salute.

  “You’re a drone. You don’t die. You just stop functioning.”

  “Isn’t that the definition of death?”

  Ewan ignored Six and moved around the crashed vessel. “Is it clear?”

  “Scans say it has no fuel. The power cells cannot re-activate unless manually charged. And the dead crew.”

  “Right.” Ewan grimaced and stepped towards the ship.

  All around them was nothing but hardpack tundra. In this equatorial balm, if one could count warm as -20°C, the landscape looked unforgiving.

  Unchanging.

  But in Ewan’s mind’s eye, he saw a lush green river valley with waving grains. Swallows darted to and fro. And on the foreboding hills, he imagined forests thick with wildlife. Above him, instead of a gray streaked sky he envisioned it blue, filled with puffy cumulous clouds.

  Below him, under the earth, the carbon now trapped there was to be released in small bursts so as to continue the evolution of his planetary paradise.

  Paradise.

  That, he believed, was what Tapaogani XII was meant to be, not a proto-planetary ice block. And his new terraforming formula would nudge the process along so he could see that paradise in his lifetime.

  “Run a comparison of what we have left to the manifest of what’s supposed to be here.” Ewan walked towards the open hole in the side of Ebudae.

  “Calculating.” Six began a routine scan. “The ATV is nearly here, sir.”

  “Please remember. Act like a normal drone,” Ewan said his hands together in a prayerful pose.

  Six huffed in disdain, “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s speeding up.” The ATV was suddenly a flash, as the afterburner cells ignited.

  “She’s going to crash the damn thing.”

  Ewan watched the ATV rear on its back left wheel and pirouette. The wheels sprayed dirt and rocks in their wake before coming to an abrupt stop.

  The thick tires crunched as the ATV rocked back and forth, wobbling to nea
r tipping point.

  Ewan reeled back, his heart pounded a thudding tattoo. Beads of sweat formed under his EVA visor.

  It swung back away and halted, the squeak of shock absorbers fading as the ATV bounced a gentle halt.

  The solar collective web melted away from the teardrop pod.

  Ewan gazed in wonder at the effect of the web’s crystalline prisms shimmering color and light across Six’s silver body.

  The hatch of the ATV swung open. An ashen-faced tech in a black and grey flightsuit tumbled out onto the ground, holding herself in a ball. An EVA helmet rolled and came to a halt at Six’s composite metal feet.

  The woman’s chin-length blonde hair was a sweaty mass, plastered to her head.

  Six moved forward, arm extended. “I detect medical distress in Payload Specialist Wall. Scanning.”

  “Let’s get her into the medical bay aboard the ship,” Ewan said.

  “Medical protocol dictates that I oversee all life preserving functions.”

  “You’re a robot?” Wall looked up in dazed shock at Six before dropping her head back to the ground.

  “Doctor Stewarts, you must get out of my way. I am better suited for this.” Six’s medical components whirred to life as they passed their hands over the injured woman’s body. “She’s running a fever. I’ll need to run diagnostics. Do not get close; I do not know if whatever she has is a disease that caused the crew’s death.”

  The drone cradled the tech into their arms, its joints hissing to counter the extra weight. “I will take her into Ebudae’s medbay. Though I’m not sure if its diagnostics are any better than the hoppercraft’s. I expect it to have a bed for her to lay on, if it was not damaged in the crash.”

  “Can I help? You know I am a certified medical tech, it’s part of the astrobiology gig.”

  “You know more about Tholarians than humans, Doctor.” Six stepped through the hole in the fuselage.

  “Okay, well, I’ll just wait out here then…"

  “Sir, the storm, it’s growing closer.” On the horizon the black clouds loomed up behind the ATV.

  Wind gusted dust and debris into Ewan’s protective visor. “Of all the… I’ll get the hoppercraft and the ATV anchored, you get her in the medbay.”

  “Right-o.” Six lumbered away from the ATV. The drone’s body turned to protect Wall.

  Ewan jumped into the ATV, initiating the ablative armor shielding as he closed the hatch. The shielding vaporized the onslaught on contact. Inside, Ewan looked around at the complex controls. Touching one of the levers, he sighed as the ATV control panel lit.

  “Okay, I can move you forwards but I can’t remember how to…” The vehicle lurched, “Oh, that’s reverse. Got it.” With the jerky movements of a new driver, it took him several minutes to maneuver the ATV in order to protect the gap in the fuselage. He was about to move to the hoppercraft when he heard Six’s voice and twirled around.

  “Doctor Stewarts!” Ewan saw Six waving its arms in front of Ebudae’s breach.

  “Cold front approaching. STORM WARNING—Imminent danger. Take cover!”

  “In what?”

  “Ebudae.”

  “But the hoppercraft... My workstation is in there!”

  “Leave that to me, Doctor.” Six twirled one-eighty on one leg and headed towards the hoppercraft.

  “Uh… I thought I’d just wait in the hoppercraft…”

  “Doctor, it’s safer inside Ebudae.”

  “There’s dead people in there, Six.”

  “Doctor Stewarts,” Six said, “we don’t have time to argue. It’s safer for you in this ship. As your appointed chief medical officer of this expedition I am bound by duty…”

  “No!”

  Ewan didn’t know quite how Six managed to move that fast, catching him off guard, but when it was over, he found himself bundled in a corner of the medical bay. Getting onto his knees, Ewan cursed his drone but could not hear himself above the din of rocks and sand on the outer hull.

  He caught the creak of the clinical diagnostics bed and stood up in the cramped medical bay. A few feet away, Wall was breathing heavily, face twisted in pain. Ewan took a step towards her. His hand moved to his helmet to ensure that the visor was still closed and latched.

  He sat on the floor of the medbay, leaning on one upturned knee, irritated with himself, his drone, and the cracked up state of affairs.

  Chapter Three

  THE HOWLING WIND CAME FIRST, then the ground shuddered beneath the drayage’s fuselage. A rumbling and a pounding that mocked an earthquake the same way that a lion’s roar mocked a kitten’s meow.

  Ewan threw himself across Wall’s prone body as the fuselage flapped like laundry on a drying line. A loud WHUMP resounded as the storm front came in direct contact with Ebudae, dumping earth and snow and whatever debris it collected along the way. The muffled howling grew distant, signaling the end of the cacophony. The broken ship shuddered and lay still. And then…. utter, deathly silence.

  The only sound was that of his own breathing trapped in his helmet. Not daring to move, he listened further.

  Creaking. The sound of impending unpredictable collapse.

  “Six? Six? Is everything okay out there?” Ewan asked.

  “Doctor Stewarts?” the groggy voice beneath him croaked.

  Ewan’s reared his head back. “Yes. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I was in a transport that fell out of the sky,” she shot back.

  “We’re going to be stuck here for a while and we need to get air circulating or we’ll suffocate. The only way to do that is to get the environmentals working.”

  “And how do you propose to do that?” she asked him, her blue eyes unblinking.

  Did she just poo-poo his authority? “Excuse me? This is my expedition, who’s in charge here? Me. I’m in charge. I’m the one. Not you, Specialist. ” The second the words left his mouth, he regretted it.

  Now she blinked. Slowly. Her head wouldn’t touch his chin if he stood up, but her glare was a threat. Prone, eye-to-eye, he felt her body tense beneath his.

  Wall’s EVA helmet was off to the side. Her heart-shaped face framed a pert nose and plump bow lips. The glare lost its affect.

  She was—in his opinion—adorable. An angry kitten who looked furious but remained a harmless kitten all the same.

  Clearing her throat, Wall gave a cheeky smile, “Okay, mission commander, would you mind terribly getting off of me?” The kitten had claws made of sarcasm.

  Ewan jumped up and backed away. “Are you sure you’re alright? You collapsed earlier.”

  “I have a very tough constitution.”

  Of that, he had no doubt. She survived a nasty crash. “Six said you were running a fever.”

  “The android?”

  Ewan cursed himself at the gaffe. “Medical drone.”

  Wall’s head cocked sideways. “Mhmm. The medical drone must have given me something to combat the fever. I’m not feverish now.”

  Nodding up at her, “You’re still a little flushed.”

  “I was groggy when Six… It’s Six right?”

  “Yes,” Ewan said.

  “Six started a diagnostic on me. I don’t think it’s complete.” She moved over to the medical tech station and tapped at controls. “Nope, non-responsive. I don’t think I’m contagious but if I am, you should probably keep your helmet on and keep filtering the air.”

  “Yes,” He agreed. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

  “Sure. So, the cockpit will have a better reading on our physical situation. I mean, that is, if you think this specialist knows anything about the ship she’s on. I’ll direct you to the cockpit, shall I?” she said, getting up off the bed and slipping around him.

  She looked over her shoulder her chin lowered, peering up at him through her sweaty bangs. “Are you coming?” She leaned over and grabbed her helmet, strapping it on.

  Ewan bit his tongue and forced a close-lipped smile. “Yes, Specialist.” Intriguing. Was
she indestructible? He followed her out into the passage. It was wide enough for one person to pass through at a time to allow for more spacious shared quarters. Cordoba liked to pack people in to keep a high profit for the ever holy bottom line. They passed the crew quarters and into the surprisingly well-appointed payload bay. For a ship that just crashed, most of the equipment appeared to be solidly attached to the walls.

  She turned around, snapping the helmet into place, walking backwards along the center aisle between the stacks, her voice continued in his helmet uplink. “Drayage-class has reinforced hull here, in the payload section. The ablative armor disintegrated the debris around the payload bay as it passed along the surface. The reinforced hull? It’s why I’d rather sleep in here, and not the crew quarters.”

  That made sense to him. Cargo was far more difficult to replace than people. At least on a spreadsheet.

  “But it means I have to keep my EVA on to breathe because the enviro filters don’t function in here unless we’re in port. Or…” she pointed to the gaping hole in the side where snowpack was keeping the wind out, “crashed.” She took a deep breath.

  “So you were in here when it crashed?”

  “Yeah, that’s how I managed to get into the ATV for extra protection.” She looked back at him. “Cockpit… bridge,” She pointed ahead.

  “What happened here?” He pointed at the bashed door and the emergency fire ax’s empty cubby.

  “I tried to get onto the bridge.”

  “You can fly one of these?” He forced his arms to stay at his side when he wanted the protection of having them crossed in front. Something wasn’t right.

  “Have you ever been in a crashing ship? There was no response from the bridge crew. I went in to investigate. I was in a panic. You know?”

  “Wait, the crew was…”

  “I don’t know what happened,” she said. “But the bridge crew was dead when I got in here and I didn’t have a chance to find out about the rest of the crew.” She lifted the broken bridge door outward.

 

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