D’Rukker said, “That’s an excellent point. Set us down somewhere. Keep us out of Eclipse radar range if you can. I want you to continue monitoring frequencies. Has there been any verbal transmissions?”
“None I’ve been able to detect,” she said, eyes looking for a large asteroid or another of Neptune’s moons. They had been safely hidden on Thalassa. “D’Rukker, Naiad is just ahead. I can give the thrusters a final push, land us on her with minimal effort. Gets us closer to Neptune to boot.”
“Naiad. Sounds like a plan. Get her done, Erinne.”
Get her done, she thought. Her arm squeaked when she reached for the control panel. She ground her teeth. Joints needed regular oiling. Her other elbow never needed oil. Okay. A little lotion now and then, but when she did not use any lotion the damned thing did not squeak.
Erinne pushed thoughts of her mechanical arm out of her mind, or tried anyway. She placed one hand on the control wheel, the other on the thrusters. Her feet sat on the rests, beside the rudder and brake pedals. The moon, identified by her system information display, was named Naiad. Not quite round, it was fifty-nine by thirty-seven by thirty-two miles around. Nothing huge, plenty of room for landing and staying well hidden.
The Cutlass pushed forward, and when Erinne disengaged the thrusters, she allowed for inertia to take over. Limiting system electronic activity, with the exception of life support, Erinne knew detection was not probable. Possible, but not probable. With the number of distress signals bouncing about the crew on the Eclipse would be plenty busy. The number of asteroids and the rings spinning around the planet set off the Cutlass sensors countless times. Same false-positive readings had to be occurring on the Eclipse.
At least, that was what she was banking on.
Sooner or later, the crew of the Eclipse would know they were there. Close by. In striking distance. The element of surprise remained key.
The Cutlass coasted toward the moon surface. With some throttle and rudder manipulation, Erinne expertly set the ship down.
“Smooth.” She powered down the ship. Got her done.
Chapter Fifteen
Eclipse Shuttle
Commander Anara Meyers remembered when she was a girl. Her father, the admiral, was stationed on Earth. The military compound was a training facility for special forces. The elite. Platoons spent weeks in the elements with minimal gear. Survival the objective. Even the highest skilled and best qualified oftentimes failed. Initially, Anara remembered feeling devastated about the deployment. The Way Station was and always had been home. How could her father expect her to up and leave friends?
She’d always viewed Earth from Nebula portholes with little more than a passing glance. The planet was an orb in the galaxy. She felt no allure, no kindred connection to ancient ancestors. Nothing. Its oceans, landmasses, and patterned white clouds were as inanimate as a flat painting, something frameable and hung on a wall.
Everything changed once their ship launched from Nebula and they were en-route to Earth. In awe, strapped in her seat beside a porthole, she saw Earth in a new light. Sunlight lit half of the planet and left the back half in darkness. Anara noticed, for the first time, the swirling movement of the clouds, and as their ship flew closer and passed around the planet’s moon, she noticed vibrant greens and deep jagged browns. Plains, mountains, white—that the admiral explained was snow, whatever that was—and giant moving bodies of water.
Their ship landed along the coastline of Anchorage, Alaska, by the Cook Inlet. It was snowing. Hard. Getting off the ship, she was almost fearful. The large flakes rained down from the sky. When the ship’s doors opened and she descended the staircase, the sound of howling wind amazed her. There was a sting from the cold on any part of exposed skin, but she didn’t mind. The snowflakes melted on her wrists and the end of her nose. One flake lodged on her eyelashes and she laughed.
“Try this,” her father said. They were on the plowed tarmac, making their way toward the main facility. The admiral tilted his head back, opened his mouth, and stuck out his tongue. A snowflake fell into his mouth. He looked at her, grinning.
She gave it a try, and spun around, moving her head back and forth.
“Just stand still,” he instructed.
Standing still, mouth open and tongue out, a snowflake landed on the tip of her tongue, and she ate it up as if a gourmet meal.
Way Station Nebula had always been home.
The climate was controlled. It didn’t rain or snow.
“The air tastes funny,” she said, breathing in deep through her nostrils.
“That’s because it doesn’t come out of a can. It isn’t fresh down here. Toxins everywhere, but it isn’t recycled like back home, either,” the admiral said, sucking in a deep breath himself. Anara knew the expression he wore then. It was similar to the one when he took a bite of some new amazing entree. The admiral was savoring a breath of fresh air.
She remembered thinking, I love it here!
“Commander?” Captain Danielle Rivers tucked her hair into her helmet and adjusted the mounted side LED lights. The black nylon tricot, spandex material of her suit form-fit her body perfectly. The sub-freezing temperatures would eventually penetrate the layers. If outside too long, they’d die. The boots worn were special. They’d keep them grounded. The wind should never be able to lift them off the ground. Euphoric knew how to design wonderful equipment. However, Neptune was doing its best to prove the corporation’s efforts ineffective.
Meyers secured the end of the gloves over the forearms of her suit. “Captain?”
“I was asking if we should use a static rope, securing each of us to the other?”
“That’s exactly what we’ll do. The terrain will be unforgiving. But if the storm keeps up, visibility will be non-existent. It will be easy to get separated, lost.” If the whiteout condition wasn’t bad enough, the commander was also worried about footing. The ice was melting. A wrong step could let one or all of them plunge into the poisonous ocean. The ammonia-base would kill them. Even with a static rope, a rescue might not be possible. The rope would come into play simply as a means of keeping them tethered, preventing any one of them from wandering away from the small herd.
Trying not to sigh, or let show her own personal doubt, the commander realized death seemed almost certain. “Make sure your side-arm is secured. Lock the holsters. We don’t want unknown elements interfering with firing ability.”
“Aye,” they said.
If—when—they reached the colony, God only knew what they would be walking into. Going unarmed was not an option. Meyers has been firing a weapon since she was old enough to grip to trade a rattle for a blaster. Anara Meyers knew her blaster was loaded and safe on her right hip, and her Ka-Bar combat knife sat inside a sheath belted around her left thigh. Also safe and accessible.
Regardless—that was the key!—Regardless, they needed to keep moving, to keep trying. Although she never went through the training on Anchorage, she did learn from the examples and tests set forth. They could not succeed, could not survive if they stayed stationary. Knowing this tidbit, the only obvious option was making a break for it. The danger of losing their way, of freezing to death, was real. Even if Lieutenant Bell reestablished contact with the Eclipse, she was not sure there was anything they could do to help from space. At least not until the storm passed. If the storm passed.
“How’s the nose, O’Hearn?” Rivers asked, punching him in the shoulder.
Gordon O’Hearn removed a wad of rolled tissue paper from each nostril. “Good as new,” he said. He sounded as if he had a cold. The “d” in good and the “w” in new became silent letters in O’Hearn’s pained pronunciation. He smiled as if he knew he sounded funny. “Doc fixed me up good.”
“Radio check,” the commander said and placed the black helmet over her head and closed the UV protective face shield. The others followed suit. “Commander, check one, check two.”
In less than a minute, they confirmed by way of checks t
hat the short-range communicators worked perfectly. They could hear one another clearly inside the security of the helmets.
They put on backpacks filled with supplies, and double-checked the air supply levels for each other.
The time arrived.
Commander Meyers did not like the idea of leaving Bell alone with the shuttle. Someone needed to stay behind, and he was the best candidate. His skillset trained him for scenarios like this. She had complete faith he would find a way to fidget rerouting power from something to something else and make contact with the Eclipse. As the only person on board the shuttle, there would be more air. Hopefully, he’d have longer than the initial twelve hours once they were out of the shuttle and on their way. Well, twelve, and he could also don a spacesuit and have additional air from the tanks. Even with twenty-four hours of air available, without a means for rescue, it did not really affect the undesirable outcome.
They affixed the static rope through carabineers on the belts around each suit. Commander Meyers on point. O’Hearn stood next. Then Rivers. Medic Weber completed the small train.
“You understand it is going to be zero visibility out there.” The commander stood by the hatch. Bell, safe inside the cockpit, would re-stabilize cabin pressure after they had exited the shuttle. “You heard the sound of rain, we’ll call it rain, hitting the hull? The helmets are going to protect us not just from the cold, but also from having our skulls bashed open, okay? We keep in a nice line. Any issues give the rope a tug. We’ve got coordinates to the colony. The maps should be displayed on your UV shields?”
“Aye,” they said in unison.
“The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Unfortunately, I have a sneaking suspicion we aren’t going to be that fortunate.” The commander held up a six-foot pole. “The trek is going to prove slow and tedious. I’ll be checking the solidity of the ground before each and every step. It will be vital no one step to the left or the right. I am only testing the steps directly in front of me. Are we clear?”
Again, they responded, “Aye.”
Meyers gave them what she hoped resembled a reassuring smile. “Okay. Then let’s do this.”
Turning around, taking a deep breath, Commander Anara Meyers opened the hatch door.
Chapter Sixteen
The commander stepped out of the Eclipse shuttle and into a raging storm. She switched on the helmet’s side LEDs. The bright light barely cut through the snowsquall conditions. The wind roared, fierce and constant. Visibility was worse than expected. Had it been a clear day, she had no doubt the landscape would look spectacular. She could not help wonder how many moons would have been visible in the sky, otherwise. Instead, something like snow and hail rained on her.
Inside her helmet, Anara Meyers was conscientious of three things: her breathing, the beat of her heart in her ears, and the GPS map displayed in the right corner of her locked faceshield.
The breaths came fast, shallow. If she could not regain control, she’d use up her air. Who knew how long the trek from shuttle to colony would take? She did not want to deplete her oxygen if she could help. As she concentrated on calming her nerves, the sound of her heart beating slowed and her breathing regulated.
Digitally projected onto the glass in the right corner of her faceshield was a three-dimensional survey of the land in front of them, as well as the best route for them to take from the shuttle to the colony.
There were variously sized peaks. Shallow valleys. Might only be, roughly, six miles, but nearly all of it was uneven. Uneven and with no direct path. The visible terrain was not the issue. Whether they walked across solid ground or on thin ice over a poisonous ocean was what most troubled Meyers.
Poking the ground in front of her, Commander Meyers conducted a quick par with her crew. All accounted for, she pressed on.
Six miles. Snail’s pace. Spending over six hours in the inclement weather would not bode well. They had air enough for twice the time, but Meyers considered twelve hours of air still cutting it close. So far, the suit did its job blocking the cold. If anything, if nothing at all, Meyers was working up a sweat. The beads of perspiration came from stress, fear, and desperation.
And yet, she felt exhilarated. The NAAA boasted promises of adventure, danger, and rewards. Her time spent in the branch of the military validated, at times, the claims. However, Euphoric guaranteed action. As the exploration of space became more routine, talks of traveling beyond the galaxy into other galaxies was even more attractive a sell.
Having spent most of her life on a Way Station and on the NAAA base, Anara Meyers didn’t just long for the threat of peril, risk, and taking a gamble with her own mortality; she banked on it. Only this was different. As a commander, as the commander of the Eclipse, it wasn’t just her own life in jeopardy. It wasn’t just her life she gambled with.
There was the game changer; that small fact made the difference. This was also where the fear she felt originated. She was not afraid of dying. It came with the job. Failing was what bothered her most.
The crew depended on their commander. It reminded her of an old book she once read. A Brave New World, written by Aldous Huxley. The basic dystopian premise focused on a scientifically bread race of people. They infants were sorted. Alphas grew up to be doctors, and lawyers. Betas were assigned positions as managers and bosses. Gamma’s worked mid-management. Deltas filled the blue-collar jobs. Epsilons emptied trash, and scrubbed toilets. The unique thing about the story is that each class of people were engineered to believe their role was essential, and they never longed to do anything else. The Epsilons were happy being Epsilons because they knew (were programmed to know) Deltas and Gammas had far more stress, and too much responsibility. The Gammas were happy as Gammas knowing that Betas and Alphas had far more stress, and too much responsibility.
Meyers felt like an Alpha now. It was not a great feeling. Part of her longed to be a Beta, or a Gamma. Part of her wished someone else were in charge. Rather than chew on that during the walk, she folded the thought up, tucked it away, and hoped she could pretend it had never entered her mind in the first place.
The people on Eclipse depended on her.
A small part of her has always worried about disappointing her father, the admiral. A larger part could not help but focus on ever having to hear him say I told you so. Hearing those four words went beyond disappointment. They signaled complete failure. In death, she’d be spared the sound of his voice saying, the look in his eyes, and the crushing sensation inside her chest, but she suspected even once in the beyond the realization would haunt her long into the afterlife.
They moved steadily. Slow, but steady. Thankfully, the iced over ground was solid. Footing sound.
Meyers did not let her attention wander. She poked and prodded ahead of each step. Carelessness could cost one of them their life. The tediousness of the task did grow daunting, however. Meyers switched the pole from hand to hand, providing what little variety she could.
The wind picked up. It surged down and raced toward them from several directions. An icy hail came with the wind, raining at them sideways. The foreboding sky was grey and white. There was a brilliance to it all. A blinding brilliance. Even with the UV faceshields in place, Meyers squinted against the brightness.
Collectively, they stopped walking. Meyers lifted her shoulders and tucked her chin to her chest.
Someone screamed behind her.
When she spun around, she caught Gordon O’Hearn flailing. The wind had knocked him off balance.
Captain Danielle Rivers reached for O’Hearn’s arm.
The lieutenant’s foot slid on ice. His arms pinwheeled.
He fell backwards.
When his back slammed onto the ground, the ground gave.
The ice shattered. Jagged pieces rose into the air. O’Hearn plunged through and splashed into the ocean underneath.
“Gordon!” Danielle lunged forward.
Weber positioned his feet and wrapped gloved hands aroun
d the rope tethering them all to each other. “Danielle, stop!”
Weber yanked on the rope, halting Danielle’s momentum and jerking her to an arm-winding stop.
“Back up! Everyone, back away from the hole!” Commander Meyers grabbed onto Danielle’s arm and pulled her further away from where Gordon fell through. “The rope. We’ve got to pull together. Danielle! Pull together!”
They stood in a line. Meyers last, Danielle, and then Weber.
The wind fought against them, rushing in at their backs, trying either desperately to push them forward toward the hole in the ice, or to knock them off balance.
Weber grunted and used all of his strength holding on to his length of rope.
The sides of Danielle’s shoes bit into the ice. She stood at an angle, and put all of her weight into the work.
Meyers secured the rope around her waist, tied a knot in front, and then used her legs to pull. She battled the wind and won some ground. She took small steps backward, step after step.
O’Hearn had been under for some time.
The cracked ice around the hole moaned, cracking more, spider webbing toward the others.
Absolute Zero Page 7