Frost and Frontiers

by Jessica Payseur

  “I’m sure you’ll do the same for me. You’re okay after all that?”

  “Shaken up,” said Nessa. “A little bruised. What’s the situation there?”

  There was a pause.

  “Nothing’s changed here really. Everyone’s still out, but the temperature’s stable on the bridge, in the cabins, and here. Oh, I went to the secondary command center.”

  Nessa’s heart leapt. Chantal was smart and not afraid to act; she wanted that to mean Chantal would get out of this situation in one piece. By afternoon she could be safely landed on Europa, and—

  Nessa cut that thought short. She couldn’t afford to think it. There was so much between then and now, and Chantal was in too much danger. She couldn’t imagine the hijackers were particularly concerned with keeping everyone alive, and even if they didn’t kill the crew and Chantal outright, they’d just dump everyone on the nearest biggest asteroid. Nessa had only heard of three times in the last two decades when such a stranded crew had been rescued before their oxygen had run out.

  “Good,” said Nessa, finding the secondary command center on the ship’s schematics. It wasn’t located as far away from the bridge as Nessa would have liked, something that had been updated in newer transport vessels, but neither was it incredibly close to the bridge. Chantal would have a little time if the hijackers escaped.

  “What do I do now?”

  “I’m trying to get through to the emergency flight contact here on Europa, but they’re busy with the quake, too,” said Nessa, setting her transmitter to ping them at regular intervals. “I’m guessing you’re still only getting through to me.”

  “As far as I can tell.”

  “And the gas? Is it still in the bridge and cabins?”

  “No, no,” said Chantal, and Nessa heard the creak as she sat in a chair in front of the panels. “People will start waking up in about fifteen minutes.”

  “No, that can’t happen,” said Nessa sharply, trying not to panic. “You need to keep them under. You know how to do that?”

  “If I can get med clearance,” said Chantal. She spoke slowly, as though concentrating hard. “Can’t I let the crew in the cabins out? They’ll know how to run the ship better than I can.”

  “No. We don’t know that all of them are on our side. Or even if they are, they might defect to live. Keep them under. Are you in?” Nessa was slightly worried about this. She could probably talk Chantal through accessing the engines if needed, but she had no skills at hacking into medical programs.

  “Just a mome—yes. Phew. I knew that trick would come in handy one day.” Chantal paused. “I haven’t told you everything about my past, Ness.”

  “And you think I have?” asked Nessa, maybe too harshly. But it was not the time for something like this, and if she had to lose Chantal now, Nessa decided right then that she wanted the woman to always be perfect in her mind. “Tell me later. Is everyone gassed again?”

  “They’re not waking up for a while,” said Chantal. “But what am I going to do now? We’re dead in space.”

  “Chan, you’re going to fly the Ice Star to Europa.”

  Chantal started laughing. Nessa recognized it as the product of stress, the sound harsh and false. She winced.

  “By myself? I’ve never even been on a spaceship until a few weeks ago.”

  “You can do this. I’ll tell you what to do.”

  “Nessa,” said Chantal, her voice steadying back to something serious. “I know you want this to work out, but you can’t expect me to run a ship that takes at minimum seven people to keep it going. I’m going to have to wait for help.”

  “You can make it work for a few hours,” said Nessa, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt a headache blossoming. “When you get close enough to Europa, most of your essential commands can be accessed remotely by traffic control moonside. I’ll talk you through it, it won’t be as hard as you’re afraid it is, I promise.”

  Another promise Nessa made without having any right to. She swallowed back her guilt and pressed on; if Chantal didn’t get out of there, she would die. Chantal was very quiet.

  “Chan,” said Nessa, more gently now. “How long can you keep everyone unconscious? It’s at least another four and a half hours to Europa. No one’s paying attention right now, but trust me, once you’re coming in to land, they will have to deal with you. They wouldn’t allow you to just crash into their newly renovated port.”

  Chantal was silent for so long after that, Nessa checked her transmitter to make sure the signal was still working. Finally she heard the woman sigh.

  “Talk me through it, then. What have I got to lose anyway?”

  Nessa bit her lip. Maybe Chantal didn’t know; maybe she was trying to ignore it.

  “You’re going to need to confirm the course and start the engines again. Just follow my steps exactly as I say them.”

  * * * *

  Once, a couple years earlier, after she’d really gotten Once in a Brew Moon going, Nessa had stepped back and revisited a lot of her life up until this point. It wasn’t a midlife crisis, not really—she assured herself she wasn’t old enough for that yet, anyway. And she never kept any mementos during her travels, so it was much more a metaphorical task than anything. No boxes of random items to clean out. No endless files of picture and video data. Just a few days of reflection.

  She’d gotten the idea from a stray memory that had floated up one day at the coffee shop. There had been a customer there, passing through, who had reminded her of an old boyfriend. “Just a few days of reflection,” had been one of his things, a motto maybe, or a way of living. Occasionally he would take days off and his mood had always seemed to improve afterward. Once she’d remembered, Nessa tried it for herself.

  One day into dredging up past memories and all her mistakes and Nessa hated it. She had no idea how this had worked for him; it was only making her miserable. She had a long list of mediocre engineering positions and a longer list of failed relationships, and nothing to show for them.

  So she researched everyone she could remember knowing—coworkers, relatives, lovers…especially lovers. It took days, but she dredged up photos and social media accounts and articles, sent a few transmissions to cousins and even her brother. The information came pouring in. This, then, was what the reflection was all about. Seeing who you had been, where you could be, why you were here. This was why her ex had enjoyed it.

  It actually felt good. To know if Nessa had stayed on a particular spacecraft, she could have been one of the people who had been fired for a political stunt. To see if had she stuck around on Earth, she would have had to deal with fighting over an uncle’s will, an event which had caused a family rift. To discover where her exciting first captain had ended up was on the Mars colony with a family of five. It was a strange feeling, to see the woman who had caused so much of Nessa’s strife happy, and yet still be happy about it.

  She had come away with a different understanding of how the world worked and a new kind of weariness. She had come away with the desire to join a dating site. She hadn’t looked up that particular boyfriend. All paths had led her here, to the coffee shop, to Europa, to Chantal. Nessa could regret nothing, and that frightened her.

  If she hadn’t found anything to regret, then she hadn’t lost anything truly important yet.

  * * * *

  A voice sang in the Venus colony dialect about disaster and broken hearts, the backup vocals making the music eerie. Normally this group helped Nessa dump her mind of all thought and focus, but now it barely seemed to be doing anything. She worried for Chantal despite how promising the situation had been developing.

  Nessa just couldn’t handle the fact she’d been kicked off her transmission. Oh, she’d been given a statement by the official who had done it, and assurance the Europa Colony Flight Commission had taken over the landing process of the Ice Star, but Nessa did not like it any. Chantal had still been a good hour out of orbit when it had happened and was no doubt more distraught havin
g to deal with officials of any sort. But Nessa hadn’t kept up with newer tech as well as she could have, and they locked her out.

  “Figures,” said Nessa to no one in particular. She started cleaning the front of her shop by the windows and righted one of the cushiony chairs, its armrest stained from coffee. Outside, people either wandered about almost aimlessly or marched by determined; there was no middle ground. On impulse she sat, staring.

  She’d listened to the reportbots—the Europa colony had been hit badly, some places worse than others, the reason why still under investigation. There had been flooding outside the colony confines and two separate research groups were missing. Nearly a hundred people had already been reported dead and there were dozens of others currently hospitalized in poor condition. Nessa had no idea what had happened to the man with the crushed throat.

  She did know this was no place she’d intended Chantal to come home to. If she were coming. The landing would be tricky if the port was in poor condition, and if the officials had decided to have Chantal wake some crew members in the hopes they would help. If they guessed wrong about who…

  Nessa was still staring unseeingly out the window when a figure approached, a rental hovercart behind them. The knock at the door startled her; she was certain she’d locked it and hung the sign, and she got to her feet in the fading dusk light to go chew out whoever was there. This was not a good time.

  “Ness?” asked a familiar voice, somehow more real now that it was so close.

  Nessa blinked.

  Chantal stood there, really there, her short hair looking wilted, her face a mixed expression of relief and exhaustion and anticipation. Nessa wanted to grab her right there, kiss her, welcome her with all the enthusiasm she had. Usually she never gave into such urges; this time, she made an exception.

  “Chan,” she breathed, catching the woman up in her arms. Whenever she had imagined this meeting somewhere in the back of her mind, she worried Chantal would think her too overweight in person, too old. But all she could think now was how happy she was Chantal was actually there, with her, how much she enjoyed being able to touch her finally.

  It was Chantal who initiated the kiss, in the doorway of the coffee shop where anyone could see. Nessa loved it. This was better than anything she could have imagined; let whoever wanted to stare do so. She lost track of how long they were together before Chantal pulled back. Nessa kept hold of her hand.

  “You made it,” she said.

  Chantal was smiling. “I wasn’t so sure for a while there—I mean, me against experienced space pirates? I’m not planning to ever take a flight again, I’ll tell you that. So Europa better be a good place to live.”

  Nessa motioned the hovercart in and shut the door behind them. She stared at the contents of the cart, musing this was all Chantal had come with, this was her entire life broken down and packed up, and now everything was here. Chantal glanced around the coffee shop.

  “Oh, Ness,” she breathed. The place was dim at the moment, but it was easy enough to see the destruction even if Nessa hadn’t bothered to turn on the lighting. Her fingers tightened in Nessa’s hand, squeezed.

  For some reason, the comfort lifted a weight off Nessa’s shoulders. She smiled.

  “It can be fixed,” she said. “I wanted to renovate the space anyway. Maybe put an upstairs section in. My zoning allows me to build another few stories up if I want.”

  Chantal nodded.

  “I have just the idea, too,” she said. “A loft. Overlooking the street.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes,” said Chantal. “And something purple in every room. You have to have that.”

  Nessa laughed.

  “I think I love you.”

  “I know I love you,” said Chantal. And when she turned to Nessa there it was, that love visible in her eyes, unmistakably shining out. Nessa wanted to take her away from the destruction here. “The way we complimented each other earlier, solving those unexpected dilemmas…”

  “You understate beautifully,” said Nessa, pulling on Chantal’s hand. “Those were disasters, potential tragedies, the-solar-system-is-ending catastrophes. But let’s not stand around here.”

  “Taking me back to your room already?”

  Chantal went where Nessa led easily, the path through the debris big enough for the both of them. Nessa had tidied the kitchen and bathroom areas first, scanning for any bits of glass or ceramic on the floor. As a result, the kitchen looked pristine, almost as though no quake had ever happened, but if you opened the cupboards or the cooling unit, you could see there were items missing.

  “Sit, sit,” said Nessa, forcing herself to relinquish Chantal’s hand. Damn, was she beautiful. Nessa wanted more than anything to take her back to her bedroom, one of the places she hadn’t gotten around to cleaning. She didn’t even know what it looked like up there. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “Water,” said Chantal, peering around. “Would you believe they interviewed me for two hours and didn’t get me anything to drink?”

  “Only two hours?”

  Nessa filled two glasses with cool water and sat across from Chantal. She just couldn’t seem to stop looking at her. Chantal didn’t seem to mind, though; after a few minutes of silence, Nessa felt Chantal’s foot bumping up against her.

  “I’m still having a hard time believing you’re real,” said Chantal. “And that I’m all the way out on Europa…”

  “I’m having a hard time believing you’d come all the way out here for me.”

  Chantal laughed. Nessa loved her laugh; it was even better here, in the same room, not distorted through space.

  “How could I not? I’ve known for a long time now I love you. You’ve been so many places, done so many things. I want that life with you where we experience the world.”

  Nessa wasn’t sure what to say to that. She would not have considered herself any more adventurous than your average person, but then, she supposed not many people would have taken the risk to start their own business, so maybe Chantal had something there.

  “You’re the one who’s been pushing me to really live,” said Nessa instead. “I’d stay locked up in my café if it weren’t for you.”

  “Good I’m here then,” said Chantal, finishing her glass of water. “Because you’re taking me to see the Ice Park this weekend.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no good place to make out there. All the sculptures are see-through.”

  Chantal stood. Nessa hesitated. They were almost moving out of awkward conversation to flirting, and she didn’t want it to end yet. But there was something mischievous in Chantal’s eyes.

  “I’m tired. Going to show me where we sleep?”

  Nessa was out of her seat and halfway to the stairs before hesitating about the state of her room. She shot an embarrassed smile back at Chantal. Damn, she did not want to drive her away. Even though Chantal was wearing standard-issue flight clothes, Nessa could imagine peeling them off, and knew it would be infinitely better to see Chantal’s body in real life than on a screen. Still, she didn’t rush.

  “Actually, I haven’t looked up there to see what the quake did…”

  Chantal brushed the comment aside with a motion and moved over to Nessa. She kissed Nessa, rested a hand on her hip. That did it. All Nessa could feel was the heat under her skin, the familiar tingle of urge smoldering in her pants.

  “You’re in luck, then,” whispered Chantal into her ear. “You can blame any mess on the quake.”

  Nessa smiled, leaned forward for another kiss. Maybe Chantal was a good decision after all.

  “Besides,” said Chantal, “We’re too old for that sort of thing. We both know what we want, right?”

  “Follow me,” said Nessa, and she pulled Chantal up the stairs as if she were twenty years younger than she was and about to get laid after a dry spell.

  Well, she was about to get laid after a dry spell.

  The destruction in her bed
room wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been; even though she’d been living on Europa for four years, Nessa still hadn’t gotten around to much decorating. As a result, there were no knickknacks to have fallen, no pictures or mirrors broken or shattered, just a few items of furniture rattled around. The few books she had lay on the floor and the pillows were awry, the bed halfway across the room. Nessa was certain the closet was a mess, but they didn’t need the closet right now.

  Chantal started laughing the moment she crossed the threshold.

  “What?” asked Nessa, turning and pulling Chantal closer by the hips. It was tempting to tickle her.

  “It’s so you.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Nessa, daring to slide her fingers up the end of Chantal’s shirt. Her skin was warm and soft and made Nessa want to throw her on the bed.

  “Sparse. Clearly you desperately need me to move in.”

  “I desperately need something,” said Nessa. Chantal let her peel the shirt off her, run hands over her body. Nessa had waited so long to be this close to Chantal that she was unsure whether it was harder to hold herself back or to make herself move. She wanted to feel every part of Chantal, linger on tracing fingers over skin, and she wanted to see Chantal’s face in person while coming, right this instant.

  Chantal laughed. “We’ve had sex before, Ness,” she said, peeling off her bra. She stepped out of her pants, moved to tug on the hem of Nessa’s shirt, the gentle action asking permission. “I hope you don’t feel shy.”

  “It’s not the same,” said Nessa, but she wanted Chantal’s hands on her. She leaned into Chantal’s touch as the woman slid her hands up under Nessa’s shirt. Nessa closed her eyes and breathed out, Chantal unfastening her bra and sliding her palms over Nessa’s breasts. Chantal fondled, played with the hardening nipples.

  “No, it’s not.” Chantal’s voice was indescribably wonderful in person. Nessa wanted more.

  “Come to bed with me,” she said. Within moments they were both naked on Nessa’s bed, which was awkwardly shoved in the middle of the room. Their hands fell all over each other’s bodies, and Nessa could see Chantal desired to feel every inch of her, as well. It was confirmation they were real, assurance they were alive. It was celebration they had both lived to meet this moment. It was a chance to truly appreciate one another. It was beautiful.