Trial by Ice (8 page)

He looked south and began to worry. The coast seemed so far. Another good day of marching, or so he hoped. A snow dimpled hill rose between him and the south. A slight haze smudged the horizon.

The tent rose as it had before, but slower. Each day it seemed to crinkle a bit more and strain as it rose in the air. The reactor was unhooked and powered back up to the fins. The cooling fin sang as the men huddled around it. The only other sound was the grumbling from their stomachs.

Crow sat in the corner clutching the evening’s rations like a miser. The day stretched on as men shifted and rolled in sleeping bags never finding rest. The hunger became unbearable. Everyone’s eyes shifted between Crow, William, and the thrashing body of Kwesi. His core finally warmed enough that the shivering and pain began.

The rations were handed to each man. No one trusted another man to pass his share. Eyes pierced Crow as he sliced each frozen bar and broke it against his knee. Crumbs were pressed against cracked lips. Each calorie was devoured. No one paid attention to the man raging in his sleeping bag.

Kwesi had survived, but now they had one more invalid to tow.

CHAPTER FIVE

Water

The sun rose a pale shade of orange over a mist shrouded horizon. The hills had browned and grown wet as the warm air pushed from the south. Directly above was the barest hint of blue seen through a haze of fog. A slight wind stirred the currents and paid no mind to the men toiling below.

What had been a steady pace was now agony with moments of despair. A muddy trail was testament to the toil. It was rough, dimpled, and scored with ridges of thawed mud.

Each sled was covered with the invalid and sick. The pace of those behind was stilted in moments of serenity as the sleds would glide before suddenly halting in the mud. The invalids would be dismounted and all would shift and push to raise the front edge.

Leduc seemed to be at the front of every sled the moment it stuck and caught. His head was bare.

William watched in disbelief. His legs burned. His lungs burned. His stomach burned. Though he began to wonder about his knee, it no longer burned.

“Mon ami,” Leduc called. He walked closer to William.

“Corporal, you should take a break,” William replied, feeling the despair and futility weigh on him.

“Ahh no! Once we get to the sea…” Leduc drifted his voice off and stared south. He nodded and smiled at William. His hands gripped the mud caked sled and lifted it out of the mire. He gave a tilted nod and tightened his grip.

“You don’t stop, do you?” William said.

William grasped the cord and stood beside Kerry. Kerry stood thinly and stared at the ground with blank eyes. He barely held the cord.

“No.” Leduc grunted as he heaved forward on the cord. The sled edged forward an inch and broke free of the suction. The second heave moved it a foot. The goal was a band of snow slowly melting a few yards away.

William flexed his fingers with every tug. The snow was tantalizing and pure just a few more feet away. He looked behind and watched others shamble, waiting for more snow. Sebastian stood alone and plodded forward with a sled of supplies behind him. What they’d have done without the augmented Marine he didn’t know.

A few more heaves brought the edge into the snow. William helped Kerry sit as Leduc walked back to the other sleds in silence.

“Take a break, really, you’ll wear yourself out,” William said.

Leduc turned with a sparkling smile. “Ahh, but no, I can help.”

William shook his head. “How can you go on? You’re like Sebastien.”

“It is the French, eh?” Leduc replied. He stopped and watched Sebastien a moment. “I used to run.”

“Races?” William asked.

“No, not exactly. I helped—” Leduc rubbed the stubble on his chin a moment. “—liberate certain goods.”

“A thief?” William asked.

“Ahh, not exactly, it was a matter of perspective.”

“The judge didn’t share your perspective?” Kerry asked.

Leduc shrugged and smiled. “See you at the next mud hole.”

The sled skidded on the snow and was feather light compared to the drag of the mud. William stumbled forward. He focused on each step and tried to keep the circulation going to his wet, cold hands.

“Oh! Look at that!” Kerry dropped the rope and stumbled a few steps ahead.

* * *

William caught the full weight and pulled a step before looking up. He shielded his eyes as the sun had finally grown out of the morning haze. It sparkled upon a leaden sea dotted with white ice chunks a few miles away. Between him and the water lay twisted wreckage. They had found the debris field of the light drop carrier,
Lawrence
.

As each sled came forward the men stopped and stared out at the sea. The debris field sparkled just as the waves crested out on the sea. The ridge was a high watermark from some prehistoric tide.

William pulled down the decline, barely controlling the sled. Kerry stumbled and rolled down the hill, covering himself in mud. William finally gave up and let the sled skid itself down until it wedged into the mud.

Avi scrambled down a section of gravel pumping his legs wildly before finally tumbling head over heels and landing at the bottom. He stood upright and grinned.

The sled with the heavily wounded proved more difficult. They led it down slowly, holding the tension in the cords as each stilted step lowered it down. Von Hess clutched onto the bundle while Tik sat on the upper edge. The last unconscious survivor, Squire, was lashed along the side.

The lower plateau was nearly snow-free. Scattered drifts, soft and slushy, were scattered along the plain to the sea. Though of more interest was the debris.

All before them were scattered pieces of alloy, steel, and mangled machinery. Occasionally something would be recognizable. A chair sat on three legs. They slogged through the field. The goal was still the sea.

William felt relieved to be near the goal. The debris field had him curious and hopeful. There was a lot left. More than he could have hoped for. A dimpled and crushed fuel tank caught his eye.
Cut the top edge off,
he thought,
and you’ve got a boat.

The pace slowed even more as they stopped and poked at the wreckage. William found himself nudging every bit of wreckage he saw. He started to make a list in his head but found it futile after seeing everything and anything.

“Grace! Hey! Look at this!” Avi hollered across the plain.

William squinted to see Avi waving a toilet seat over his head. Tero and Kwesi stood near a plastic and steel wall holding a single steel toilet.

He grunted onwards with Kerry straining beside him. Xinhu stumbled behind them with dull eyes. He rode when possible but the pace was so slow now that he took stilted steps. William wanted to stop. The sun was racing lower, but they were almost at the sea. He could feel the tangy freshness in his nose and the back of his mouth.

Farshore. It came back to him just for a moment. He remembered the sea and the taste of the fish. The sweet flakiness in his mouth as he stood on the slender dock. His father paid for the herring. It was a cool, gray day, but the sea was steady.

He detoured around a warped section of pipe and found himself facing the sea. He caught his breath in his throat. The shore was dark, shadowed, and covered in gravel tinted red and green. Washed up and half buried in the gravel was the corpses of the crew.

William turned away and looked at the men behind. He gave one more glance to the corpses and turned to help the others. The dead were behind him now—he had to focus on the living.

Each sled pulled close and the survivors took in the sight. The waves lapped in dull crashes stirring the corpses in the surf. Night was approaching.

The tents went up at a snail’s pace. The walls had fully inflated by the time the sun had set and the chill wind flowed down from the northern plateau. They had forgotten, just briefly, what the cold was really like.

“Tero, O’Toole, go get some water,” Crow said. He passed the beaten basin forward.

“Stop. Heyo, Stop,” Vito called.

Tero looked to Crow for an answer.

“What is it Vito?” Crow asked.

“We can’t drink this water.”

“Why not? Salt?” Crow asked.

Vito shook his head. “Bacteria actually.”

“The purifier?” William asked.

Vito rubbed his chin and nodded slowly. “It should work, yes.”

“How do you know there’s bacteria?” Grue said.

“They came with a terraforming system when it was first colonized. Part of that kit is an engineered bacteria that starts the food chain.”

“But why? Wouldn’t that kill the colonists?” Grue replied.

Vito shook his head. “It would, but they’re resistant to it.”

“What about things leaking from the wreck?” Aleksandr asked.

Vito shrugged. “I’m not sure on that one.”

“There’s chemicals enough—radiation, too, I’m sure, but the snow is melting fast here, we’re not going to have much option,” William said. “We’ll melt snow tonight and set up the purifier in the morning.”

Crow nodded to Tero. He stepped outside to retrieve snow.

“What’s the plan now, Grace?” Berry said with a spit at the end of the sentence.

William pictured the fuel tank he had seen earlier. “We scour the wreckage and start bringing in whatever is of use. Everything and anything: wire, supplies, anything that still functions. Food especially, if we can find it.”

“Then what?” Berry asked.

“We build a boat.”

Berry snorted through his nose. “Bullshit. There’s no way we can build a boat.”

“There’s enough wreckage here to piece one together. We have insulation, fuel tanks, we can make a pontoon, we can carve out a hull, even make a mast and rig a sail,” William replied. He looked around the room and saw all eyes upon him. “We’re not going to sit and freeze to death, we’ve go to make our move. Everything we need is here.”

“And how will you weld? How will you cut? How do you intend to find tools? There’s nothing here but junk!” Grue said.

“I can work with the metal,” Xinhu said softly. “It won’t be pretty, but I can work it.” His voice gained more confidence as he spoke.

“And just who are you?” Berry asked.

“The man who’s going to make the boat that saves your ass,” Xinhu replied back sharply.

A whistle came from the edge of the tent followed by a laugh. Berry shot a glance around the room but was met with only smiles. The room was filled as both tents ate together. Everyone wanted to lay in the sleeping bags but William had ordered everyone to eat together. They had to maintain a connection besides just the agony and the toil.

Tero came back in without the basin. “Come outside! I see lights!”

William leaped up and sped out the door, stuffing the remaining ration bar into his mouth.

Outside was inky black with a slight light from a small moon near the horizon. A slender silver line etched its way from the moon through the sea. To the left of it winked a dim red light barely touching the horizon. The survivors peered at it.

“What is it?” Selim asked.

“I’ve no idea,” William replied. “Is it moving?”

He strained his eyes and tried to anchor the view. He held his breath and watched. It was moving to the left, but didn’t appear to get any closer.

“Is it an aircraft?” Avi asked.

“Too slow,” Sebastien replied.

The light seemed to ebb and dim before winking out completely. They stood in the cold wind for a minute more and retreated back indoors.

* * *

The night sky was cool and damp like a wet blanket. The stars bled through the mist as the warm currents collided with the chilled air. A damp layer of frost collected on the tents.

Sebastien stood outside and stared into the darkness. The light on the horizon had gone but he was curious and wondered if it would reappear. The standing felt good. His legs were stiff. The work as a beast of burden took its toll. He wondered how the regular men could continue on.

The thought startled him. Was he so different that he’d refer to them as regular men? The wind kicked up. He took one last look out to the inky sea and started back inside.

“Cold sometimes, yes?” Leduc asked.

Sebastien stopped and realized that he had been watched by the diminutive Frenchman with stubbled hair. “On occasion.”

Leduc stepped closer and pointed out to the sea. “I don’t like the water.”

“I don’t like freezing to death.”

“You wouldn’t, though, eh?”

Sebastien remained silent.

“Did it hurt?” Leduc whispered.

“Did what hurt?”

“When they added the bits of machines. Do they change your dreams, too?”

The wind slapped against the tent. Sebastien turned his head and looked down to Leduc. Pleading eyes looked back up at him. The turn of the phrase rolled over again.

“You too?” Sebastien questioned.

“I used to dream the most amazing dreams. Now they are gone.”

“You are augmented?”

“I found a niche, I could steal what others couldn’t lift.”

Sebastien smiled. “That is a niche.”

“And the Army knows?”

“It’s off the books, minimally invasive, nothing like your package. But yes, they know.”

Sebastien felt the fire of camaraderie spark for a moment and fade into the wind. “No, I don’t dream either,” he lied as he turned and walked back into the tent. His dreams were his own penance.

* * *

The following morning a new sense of purpose came to the camp. They now had something beyond an abstract goal. They had something to focus on, something to build.

William awoke groggy and stiff. His knee felt like it was filled with lead, yet strangely warm. He slid a hand into his pants and felt it gently. The edges were hot while the center of the frostburn felt chilled.