The air is sharp and cold. Above me the sky is night bright and dusted with stars. They look different from the ground. In space they are reachable. From here it is hard to believe they are the distant suns of other worlds. They are distant and unhelpful even though I know the galaxy is teeming with life.
A few flakes of snow drift down and land on my cheeks. I stick out my tongue to catch one. Then regret it instantly. The flake is water, but I didn’t boil it first. Will it kill me?
The water in my cup cools. Green and blue lights dart through the trees. At first, I think they are lanterns held by people, I’m about to wake Ava, but the lights are too erratic. I don’t know what they are. Insects probably. An animal snuffles into the clearing, squat and bristly with four tusks curling about its face, and a spiked tail. It roots around for a bit before trotting off. Life on the planet continues as though we haven’t disturbed it. I grew up in a vast city, the idea of entire planets being untouched like this is bizarre and fascinating. I’ve never spent this much time in nature—the neat and carefully planted and maintained city gardens don’t count.
“Aren’t you cold?” Ava comes over wrapped in the blanket.
“Not really. I had my cup of water.” I lift the now empty cup.
She puts the back of her hand to my forehead. “You feel cold.”
A hand to the forehead is very unreliable. But I don’t say that. “I should probably get moving…I need to…” I point out of the cave. We’ve been using a rock not far away as a latrine.
“Go.” She takes my cup and I stand.
My body aches and my eyes are gritty from lack of sleep—I’ll never complain about the narrow bunks on a ship again—but I don’t feel cold, cool maybe. I walk to the rock and spend a few minutes making sure that there is nothing waiting to bite my butt.
Then I stare at the lake while I pee. But this morning there is no sign of the hole in the ice. The lake looks like a white snowy field. My heart sinks as I realize I won’t see the strange water alien again.
I make my way back to the cave, and everyone is up and talking and arguing about what to do next. Ava hands me my share of the meal and I eat it as slowly as I can. My stomach is a tight hard knot, and the food doesn’t make a dent, if anything my hunger is awakened and there’s nothing to satisfy it with. No one seems happy.
“I don’t see why we can’t stay here,” Calloor says. “We’re close to the ship and we have shelter.”
Ava holds up her hand and folds over a finger with each statement. “A meter-deep cave is not shelter. We need to find food. The ship is gone, but we have beacons. If anyone comes, they’ll be able to find us. We aren’t staying and we’re heading upstream, higher into the mountains so we get a clearer signal out.” Ava slings a bag over her shoulder as though the argument is over.
I’m not staying, so I grab the med kit bag and stand with her. The other two security guys do too—she is their boss so they may not feel like they have a choice. That leaves Calloor sitting sullenly on the ground. Without his ship, he’s lost. I almost feel sorry for him, but we’re all stuck here for the moment so we need to make the best of it.
This is like one of those adventure vacations the rich pay for. A wild untamed land, camping and so on, but most of us didn’t grow up on the ground. Or if we did, we grew up in cities. This was the kind of place we heard about, dreamed about, and then had nightmares about.
We aren’t equipped for this, and while I trust Ava, even she has no idea what is out there or where we are going. Following her, we set off, winding our way upstream. The ice singing and the wind at our backs.
The sun is warm when it’s on my skin, but that heat is lost as soon as I step into the shade. As we follow a trail, I’m aware that we are the first humans to walk here. To breathe in the scent of the decomposing leaves and startle the grazing animals. The insects are the size of my hand, and they scatter with jewel-like wings, clicks, and whirrs.
In the undergrowth something snuffles and grunts. We all stop. I’m not sure who is more startled, the animal or us. The creature turns and trots away into the undergrowth. Would the animal be edible?
We keep going. Every rock and stick jabs into the sole of my foot. These boots were made for ships, not hiking. We soon run out of water. We’re out of food. My stomach grumbles unhappily.
The trail leads us up hill and away from the lake. I stop, put my hands on my hips and catch my breath. “We should stay with the water. We don’t know there that trail is leading.”
Ava glances at me like I’ve betrayed her. “I know how to find my way back to the lake. We need to find shelter for the night.”
“We need water first.” Shelter is no good if we’re all dead from dehydration, or hypothermia from eating snow, or worse, getting sick from bacteria in the snow.
“We can’t stop here.”
“Let’s take a break. Make a fire, refill the water bottles. You can scout ahead?” She sets her jaw as though to argue, so I continue. “My medical recommendation is that we all need water. Now.”
“Fine. Wraight, with me.” She shrugs off the bag, and it drops onto the ground. “We’ll head on a bit.” She checks her watch. “Thirty minutes.”
They disappear into the forest, swallowed by the deep green shadows. My heart glitches in panic that they’ll be lost, and I’ll never see her again.
“Now what?” Calloor sits.
“Now we get the fire going.” The other security guy, Harding, gives Calloor’s foot a kick to get him moving.
Calloor rummages through his bag and hands me the bowls that used to contain the ready to eat rations. I guess I’m collecting water. I make my way to the lake. Ice crunches beneath my feet and the shore is slippery, it takes me a moment to find my balance. There’s snow on the surface of the ice, so I use the knife in my boot to scrape it into the bowl. I pack it in hard, then fill the other one. The whole time I can hear the ice whispering to me. I tilt my head as I try to understand. Like I should be able to figure out the words. Then the ice cracks and a hand sized chunk of ice lifts upwards, held up by a hand made of water.
I fall back onto my ass, but quickly recover. I take the offered ice and drop it into a bowl. Eskar’s face fills the gap. He’s as pale as ice, but his eyes gleam bright as he smiles.
