by J. M. Snyder
“Sure. I’ll take steak tips.”
He went back to their cartons of MREs with a slight tremor as his body came down from the adrenaline rush. They were at the end of a scouting run, which meant their supplies were getting low. Hopefully their distress call was received promptly and someone was able to come within a few weeks, avoiding the dark matter of course, to affect a rescue.
Space had its ways of keeping humans from getting complacent.
Chapter 2
Jude slept very poorly on account of worrying about their upcoming crash landing. By the time they approached the tundra planet, he was ready to get it over with.
“Buckle up,” said Cal, who’d endured a similarly lousy night’s sleep, if the dark spots under his eyes were anything to go by.
Jude looked at his console with its prospecting data. “The silver lining to all of this is, the planet looks promising for metals.”
“You’ll forgive me if I’m more concerned with surviving the descent.”
So was Jude, but he had absolutely no control over that, so he took orbital scans because it beat sitting there doing nothing except hoping to live. The computer noted a good amount of metal in the equatorial regions. Most of the planet was covered in too much ice to get any useful data from orbit, though they’d have plenty of time to scan on foot provided they didn’t burn up in the atmosphere.
“Here we go,” said Cal. “If you believe in any deities, might not hurt to ask for a little help.”
“Nope.” He’d given up on deities a few years earlier and hadn’t yet seen anything to make him reconsider. “I’ll stick with trust in your piloting skills.”
Cal flashed him a smile. “Picking me over a god? I’m flattered. Okay, let’s do this.”
“We have a choice?”
“No. The planet’s gravity has us, which I still think is preferable to floating around the solar system hoping we don’t get pulled into the star.”
He was right. It was much better to be captured by a planet than a star, which had a survival rate of zero. “Yeah. Just try for the equatorial zone, will you?”
“Without steering thrusters, we’ll land where we land.”
Jude knew this. Cal had been studying scans of the planet for the past two hours, trying to work out the best descent when all he could control were the wings. They were both glad the planet didn’t have much in the way of mountains to crash into.
The ship picked up speed, and normally at this point Cal would engage the engines to slow them down. Without that option, they gained momentum rapidly and it started to get warm.
Unlike usual landings, there was no talking. Cal focused entirely on his screen, so he could get them down alive. By this point they were moving too fast for the prospecting scans, so Jude couldn’t even pretend to do anything useful, and he didn’t like it at all. Not that there was anything to like about the situation, except for not being dead just yet.
The computer beeped a warning. Speed Exceeds Safety Parameters, declared the screen. As though they could’ve missed it. By now Jude was clutching his seat so tightly he was unwilling to let go in order to wipe the sweat accumulating on his face.
Cal deployed the wings, which slowed them down slightly. Now he’d be able to manipulate the wings to steer, hopefully avoiding anything particularly nasty like landing in an ocean. Jude was nauseous and grateful he’d had the foresight not to eat, because hurling would not improve this experience.
Meanwhile, the planet was getting awfully close, awfully fast. Jude was not an adrenaline junkie and therefore found nothing redeeming about the ride. Cal had a bit of adrenaline junkie in him to be sure, but he didn’t look like he was having much fun at the moment either.
Judging by the expanse of white they were rapidly approaching, this was not the equatorial zone. It did, however, meet the more critical points of being neither a mountain range nor a large body of water, so he’d take it.
Cal was a damn good pilot. He managed to keep them from landing on the ship’s nose. The ship hit with a jolt, throwing both men forward against their safety harnesses as the craft raced forward. Jude knew they’d been going fast before, but there was nothing like hitting the ground to drive home their breakneck speed.
The ship plowed snow for almost two kilometers, gradually slowing in the face of resistance. During this time, Jude relaxed enough to give up his death grip on the seat, though his heartbeat was still through the roof.
When they finally stopped, he took a deep breath to appreciate his continued existence. “Good job, Cal.”
“Thanks. All this snow actually helped our landing by letting us glide to a stop.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered if we crashed first.”
“We kind of did. It was a partially controlled crash.”
“Not fatal, so it works for me.” He released the safety harness. “Nothing broken, either.”
“Bruises for sure,” said Cal. “Not bad, all things considered.”
A check of the computer gave more good news. “The transmitter survived descent and continues to send our SOS.” Jude had been slightly concerned that heat from the uncontrolled entry would melt the transmitter, so he was relieved to see that wasn’t the case.
“That’s a relief. Have to give it to the engineers, they made a sturdy ship.”
The hull and transmitter, yes. In another area Jude had a quibble. “I could’ve gone for engines a bit more resistant to burnout.”
“Okay, that’d have been nice,” conceded Cal, “but for a minute there I wasn’t sure they’d last to get us clear of the dark matter, so we can’t complain too much.”
For the moment, Jude was happy to be alive and in possession of an operational transmitter. If rescue failed to come promptly, he reserved the right to bitch further about the engines.
“Atmosphere outside isn’t toxic, but low in oxygen,” he said, going to his computer. “Our C02 scrubbers look fine, so no crisis there.”
“Besides, the plants are doing well,” said Cal. It was a personal quirk of his that he insisted on keeping a few plants under a growing lamp in order to produce oxygen naturally.
“I’d rather not rely on three small plants.”
“Fair enough. We can convert solar energy to heat, too, so it looks like our biggest concern is going to be the arrival of rescue before our food runs out. Either that or we’ll have to go hunt those polar bears after all.”
Jude didn’t much like the idea. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“I’m hoping.”
They ran through their systems checks one by one. The fiery descent had weakened the hull, but otherwise hadn’t caused much damage. They were damned lucky and they knew it.
Jude pulled up a 360° view of their landing site. It was basically snow as far as the camera could see, interrupted only by a stand of scraggly trees and the line where the ship had melted and plowed snow out of the way.
“Too bad it’s flat,” said Cal. “I’ve always wanted to go sledding.”
“You’ve never been sledding?”
“Florida isn’t known for sledding opportunities.”
Good point. Having grown up on Mars, Jude sometimes forgot the details of Earth’s climate and geography. There was snow on Mars, more than the initial terraforming plan had estimated and sometimes altogether too much of the stuff. There were thus plenty of chances for a kid to sled and develop a good arm for snowball fights.
“Not like we have a sled anyway,” he said.
“Maybe I’ll build a snowman.”
Jude was something of an expert on snow, and he doubted much snowman-making was going to happen. “That only works when the temperature is warmer. It’s so cold out there, this snow will be fine and powdery. Good for sledding, not for snowmen or snowball fights.”
“Damn. You wanna go outside now, or wait?”
After a yawn, Jude decided they had plenty of time. “I’d rather get some sleep first.”
“Hey, you know yawns
are contagious.”
He did, because he was always yawning after Cal. “Payback’s a bitch. I’m hitting the bunk.”
“Oh yeah,” said Cal, “I’m really feeling the appreciation for my piloting skills.”
Jude rolled his eyes and went to the back for some much-needed rest.
* * * *
Their first expedition outside the ship didn’t lead to any zoological discoveries. Whether this was due to a lack of fauna in the vicinity or their arrival during winter hibernation season, Jude couldn’t say. The daylight hours were short enough for it to be winter, he thought, but who knew?
He busied himself collecting rock and soil samples. The trail where they’d skidded to a halt was nearly free of snow and therefore a good place to start. It took quite a bit of prying because the ground was frozen solid, but he eventually got a nice collection of samples. The area looked promising for bauxite, so he imagined the boss would be pleased. At least this whole adventure was good for something.
Actually, it was good for two things, if you counted Cal’s delight at playing in the snow. Some of the snow they’d plowed the previous day had clumped up, and he decided this was as good an opportunity to build a snowman as he was likely to get, so he set to work.
It wasn’t the best snowman Jude had ever seen. It was one of the worst, with lumps of ice sticking out in random places and a too-small head perched precariously on a weirdly flat body.
Notwithstanding these shortcomings, Cal was pleased. He collected a few rocks and sticks to finish off the sculpture, then stepped back to admire his handiwork. “I wish we had a carrot, but it’s not bad considering what I had to work with.”
“I’ve seen worse,” said Jude, which was technically true, if not by a whole lot.
His suit beeped and informed him in the computerized voice, “Oxygen reserves at fifty-one percent.”
That, of course, was the signal to turn around when they were far from the ship. In this case they’d gone about forty meters, so there was no rush.
Cal sprung Jude’s way. In 89% Earth gravity, bounding was easy and regular walking was trickier. Coming from Mars, Jude was used to low gravity. Even the best efforts at supplemental gravity had only gotten the Martian settlement up to 96% Earth normal. Cal, on the other hand, had no idea what he was doing. He bounced, overcompensated, and generally expended at least twice the energy he needed.
It was kind of adorable.
Finally more or less where he’d planned, Cal leaned over to peer at Jude’s collection of samples. “Anything good?”
“Bauxite.”
“I don’t suppose that’s one of the bonuses this quarter.”
“No such luck.”
Cal shrugged, a movement which lost most of its effectiveness in an environmental suit. “Oh, well, it’s something anyway.”
“It’s a nice concentration of something,” added Jude. “I’m going to take scans and samples in different spots around here to get a better idea what we’re looking at.”
“Now? Because I think it’s just about lunchtime.”
“What else is new?” For a man who couldn’t even get the MREs right, Cal was awfully driven by his stomach.
“Hey, breakfast was hours ago.”
“Yes. That’s generally how meals work.”
“Whatever, wise guy. Need me to carry some of these?”
“That’d be great, thanks.” Jude had amassed quite a collection, and while it didn’t weigh him down as much in the low gravity, he wasn’t about to turn down a little help.
The assistance was even more important when they got back to the ship with its Earth normal gravity, not a pleasant transition. Jude had heard a rumor that the new ships coming out soon would allow for a gradual increase or decrease in gravity, which would make adjusting easier, but he wasn’t hanging his hopes on being assigned a brand-new ship any time soon.
“Sometimes I really hate gravity,” said Cal.
“I should say something about how vital it is, but right now I agree with you. What the hell, I’ll put the samples away later. Not like we’re going anywhere.”
He put down the samples, shucked his suit, and collapsed into his chair. The bed would’ve been more comfortable, but walking to it sounded far too exhausting at the moment.
Cal’s stomach rumbled, and the man groused, “Damn it, I’m hungry but the food is all the way in the back.”
“Funny how the ship seems small until you’re readjusting to its gravity,” said Jude. “That controllable tech can’t come fast enough.” Artificial gravity was crucial, as without it a person’s health would be permanently screwed up. All the same, the ability to ease into it would be a great improvement.
“Presuming we ever see it.”
“Well, yeah. Here’s hoping.”
They did eventually work up the energy to get lunch. With Cal, that always happened sooner rather than later.
“So I was thinking,” said Cal between bites of lasagna, “you might actually be onto something with your dark matter theory. We know it’s not evenly spread out in the universe or, for that matter, the galaxy, and the way it came out of nowhere by the planet really was like someone showed up. Of course, that begs the question, is it intelligent like we are?”
Humanity had found alien life in spades, but so far none of it sapient unless Alston was really dropping the ball on their news bulletins. No doubt such life forms existed, but it was a big universe.
“The science and philosophy types are always saying the universe holds life forms that won’t fit neatly into any of our preconceived categories,” said Jude.
“This would definitely qualify.”
“If I’m right, which is far from certain and even harder to prove.”
“It’s an interesting idea, anyway,” said Cal. “And who knows, maybe you’ll get famous for discovering a new species after all.”
Jude wanted neither fame nor a discussion of his disinclination. “I can’t claim to have discovered dark matter.”
“If you figure out that it’s a life form, that’s close enough.”
“Maybe. Right now it’s just a crazy thought.”
“Crazier stuff has turned out to be true,” said Cal. “Like the planet someone found a couple years ago with a stream of molten silver.”
“That was wild,” Jude agreed. “Not terribly useful in temperatures that melt metal, but pretty neat all the same.”
“The galaxy is full of untold wonders just waiting to be discovered.”
He rolled his eyes at Cal’s cheery intonation. “Doing your best impression of a recruiting slogan?”
“The cool stuff breaks up the monotony we deal with the rest of the time.”
“You mean you don’t love running systems checks and setting the auto-navigation?”
“I love it as much as you enjoy being between solar systems with nothing to scan, smartass.” Cal scraped up the crumbs of beef which had thus far escaped his fork. “While we’re talking about boredom, we’ve got more in our future.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m planning on getting plenty of samples and scans.” If nothing else, it would fill his time, and nobody could say he wasn’t very thorough about his job.
Cal shook his head. “Computer says we’re due for a blizzard in the next twelve to twenty hours. Granted, meteorology isn’t its strongest point, but I for one am not inclined to take the risk.”
“Damn,” said Jude. “How long is this storm supposed to last?”
“Not enough data for a prediction.”
“Force one.”
“I tried. Not enough data for that, even. I guess we came in too hot for baseline atmospheric scans.”
If it weren’t for the gravity difference, Jude would’ve gone back out right then, but repeated switches in gravity could really screw with a person’s body. “So we’re going to be stuck in here.”
“You mean you’re tired of my charming company? I’m wounded.”
Jude wasn’t tired of Cal’s
company. Actually, he was getting a little too fond of it, which was a completely different problem to which he definitely didn’t want to call attention, so he asked, “How am I supposed to find us a bonus lode when we’re too low for orbital scans and too trapped for hand scans?”
“A valid point. Still, nothing we can do except make the best of it.”
Neither of them mentioned the dagger over their heads, which was the possibility that their food would run out before rescue arrived. For his part, Jude tried his very best not to think about that worst-case scenario. Not like he could do anything about it, anyway, besides check the transmitter every few hours like he was already doing.
Being helpless really sucked.
Chapter 3
Cal had never been in a snowstorm before. He’d seen snow on multiple unnamed planets, but in these cases, it had been on the ground already. Now here was all this snow and still no opportunity to go sledding, dammit.
At least he’d gotten to build a snowman, even if it was by no stretch of the imagination a great snowman. The snow on this planet was a fine powder which, as Jude had predicted, didn’t stick together at all, meaning the snowman had to be constructed out of the snow boulders which were a result of their landing.
He watched the live view from the outside camera with interest as flakes started to float down from the sky. “You wanna go outside for a few minutes?”
Jude gave a pointed look. “Do I want to suit up, let out half our heat, then come back in after a few minutes and deal with the gravity difference?”
He was right. Cal knew it didn’t make sense, he just wanted to experience a snowstorm as personally as possible, though it admittedly wouldn’t be the same in an environmental suit. “Okay, okay, we can be reasonable.”
Jude was big on being reasonable, maybe more than was ideal. Cal liked the guy but thought he could loosen up a bit from time to time. This wasn’t only because Cal had some fun ideas on how he could help (most of which involved blowjobs), though that certainly played a part.
So far Cal had kept these fun ideas to himself. If Jude had given even a hint that he might have similar interests—and really, hadn’t liking the same gay porn star been a perfect opening?—he might have made a casual suggestion, the kind which could be passed off as a joke with minimal fallout. This had yet to happen, and Cal was starting to think it never would.