Tundra 37 (11 page)

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“Jenny, what are doing standing there like a scarecrow? Mikey’s coming to pick us up any minute.”

The woman standing before her stared through cloudy gray eyes like her own. Her nut-brown hair blew free in the wind, trailing to a white sundress and sandals with daisies painted between her toes. Golden swirls moved within the daisies and Gemme blinked until they disappeared.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Gemme studied the woman up and down. Maybe she had. “Who are you?”

She laughed, throwing back her head. “You’ve been doing too much work. It’s time to have some fun.” She grabbed Gemme’s hand, and Gemme stiffened at her touch.

The woman pulled her forward. “Honestly, why do I always have to drag you with us?”

“Where are we going?” Gemme struggled to keep up with her pace. The earth crushed underneath her bare feet, like she walked on crumbled bread. The sun’s rays seared her retinas, but the warmth it offered differed so much from…

“To the party, remember?”

“Where are my shoes?”

“They’re in Mikey’s pickup truck. You left them last night before skinny-dipping.”

“Before what?” Gemme’s foot caught on a branch and she pitched forward. The earth came up harder than she thought, knocking her jaw into her head. She bit her tongue, pain exploding in her mouth. Starbursts blossomed behind her eyes and the field darkened as if someone switched off the lights.

§

Gemme regained consciousness to dim light and wondered if she’d programmed twilight mode into her sleep pod. The landrover pitched, suspending her in the air before landing hard, jarring her body. Reality barged in. She wasn’t on the
Expedition
. Glancing out the rear sight panel, she watched the flaming edge of Solaris Prime disappear beyond the horizon. The white scenery dulled to various shades of gray, making the world even more alien.

Gemme wiped condensation from the sight panel with her sleeve. She squinted against the foggy glass, trying to make out the shape of mountains in the twilight. The thought of no light switch frightened her. What if their energy cells ran out? Would they have to wait until the next day to see?

A snowdrift shifted, like someone pulled it on wheels and Gemme blinked and stared, pushing her face up to the three-inch thick glass. Her breath plumed on the panel and she wiped it away, searching for the source of the movement. The mountains loomed as shadows on the horizon and the twilight cast every shape in a haze.

“Tech?” she whispered, but he didn’t answer.

She glanced behind her, taking the risk she’d miss another strange movement. Tech snored, his chin resting on his chest. Luna typed on her miniscreen, and Brentwood focused on the path ahead.

Gemme whipped her head back to the window and held her breath. Brentwood’s words came back to her.
Report anything that moves to Luna.

What was she going to say?
I saw a snowdrift move?

She watched the sight panel like a hawk. The landrover crested a ridge, and the plains disappeared below them. Losing sight of her target, she shook her head and sighed. It was the first day of her journey and she was already losing her mind.

“Ride’s over, people.” Brentwood eased the landrover to a halt. The constant rumbling beneath her feet rolled to silence and the finality of the moment hit Gemme in the stomach. For the first time, her sleep pod on the
Expedition
would lay empty.

His voice sounded cheerful but weary. “Let’s make camp.”

“You mean, actually go out there?” Luna slammed down her miniscreen.

Brentwood turned and grinned. “That’s right. Did you think we’d sleep right here in the landrover?”

“That’s certainly better than freezing in the cold.”

He laughed. “I brought thermal tents from the ship’s emergency supply. Come on, we’ll make a synthetic fire.”

“And sing good old ‘Kumbaya,’” Tech grumbled groggily, shifting his position as if both his legs had fallen asleep.

Gemme slipped her arms back into her thermal coat, tightening the hood around her face. Synthetic angora hair tickled her cheeks as she pulled the string taut. She thought about mentioning the moving snowdrift, but the encounter felt so surreal, she blamed it on her imagination and adjusting eyes.

“It’s a balmy negative seventeen degrees Celsius out there. So bundle up and let me know if your fingers and toes turn numb. Everyone ready?” Brentwood’s hand hovered over the panel for the hatch.

“Yeppers.” Tech had slipped on his own hood. His beard covered his face in a quilt, and Gemme envied his extra facial hair.

The sound of a zipper ripped through the compartment as Luna secured her jumpsuit and pulled a wrap around her shoulders. A fuzzy wool hat covered her head. “You bet.”

Brentwood watched Gemme and she nodded. He winked at her before pressing the panel. The hatch lifted and cold air streamed in, stealing every ounce of heat.

Gemme shivered and squinted her eyes against the wind. She thought her retinas would freeze and she’d turn blind as the Seers. Blinking back tears, she held her breath and jumped out. Her boots crunched on snow, wobbling despite the solid footing. The heavy weight of real gravity pulled on her legs as she trudged away from the landrover, seeking the unknown. The frozen plains stretched out in a vast, exposed hinterland. No chamber on the
Expedition
compared to standing in the sweeping landscape, the wind whipping through her as it if could carry her away.

Brentwood unloaded gear with a plop onto the snow. “Any volunteers for setting up the tents?”

“I’ll do it.” Gemme scooped up a handful of iron rods and nylon. Anything to keep her moving, keep her warm.

“Count me in.” Tech gave her a nod.

“Ms. Legacy?” Brentwood paused with his arms full and shot Luna a questioning glance.

Luna plucked a glass vial out of her backpack. “I have to collect samples.”

“Samples of what? All I see is blasted snow for miles.” Tech waved his arm across the far mountain range.

“Anything that may contain life.” Luna stuck her nose in the air and whipped around, disappearing behind the landrover.

Tech raised an eyebrow at Gemme and whispered under his breath. “Ha. ‘Samples,’ my ass.”

Gemme clamped her mouth tight to keep from laughing. She checked Brentwood’s reaction. He busied himself unloading energy cells. Here she was, trying to impress him with her tent-making skills, and he probably preferred the way Luna stood up for herself, choosing educated work over grunt labor.

Stop now. You’ll never win this battle.

Gemme gritted her teeth, throwing down a rod that didn’t match the diagram anywhere. Tech picked it up and stuck in into thicker rod, pulling the nylon across it. “Doing good, Ms. Love Connection.”

Someone had watched too many Old Earth videos.
“Thanks.”
But, no thanks
. She sucked like a black hole at tent building. She couldn’t even summon the energy to correct him
again
concerning her job status as
ex
-matchmaker. A sour taste sat on her tongue. Gemme needed to focus and all this jealous angst grated on her nerves. Why couldn’t she dismiss Brentwood and be done with it?

Swirls of fluorescent green reflected in the nylon fabric, distracting Gemme from her thoughts. She turned, staring in awe. Violet and vermillion danced above them in waves, radiating in streaks from the night sky. The ever-changing pattern hypnotized Gemme in the same way she stared at a flickering flame. Reverence welled up inside her, making her feel like a little girl seeing the universe for the first time.

“Would you look at that!” Tech dropped the last three tent poles in the snow. They rattled at his feet.

Brentwood rounded the landrover and stood by them, hand on his hips. “I’ll be a droid’s uncle! It’s like back on Old Earth!”

Tech nodded, looking eager to talk about his expertise. “The charged particles, in this case originating from Solaris Prime, enter Tundra 37’s magnetic pull. When they collide with the air molecules, the fluctuating current emits light in a magnetic field.”

“Thanks, Mr. Scientist.” Gemme thought she’d dish out some of his own medicine in their name calling game.

Tech chuckled. “At least my class years are good for something.”

Gemme thought she caught the corner of Brentwood’s lips curve up and wondered if he found her joke amusing. Any sign of emotion would make him more human and less of an authority figure. She wanted to know the man underneath the uniform. What did he dream of? Why had the computer matched her to him?

Brentwood caught her staring and an electric current passed from his eyes to hers. Gemme’s heart jolted and she wondered if the magnetic field shifted to encompass them, making her skin tingle with excitement. The moment surged inside her and she licked her cold, cracked lips wanting to say so much.

Tell him about the pairing.

Tell him before it’s too late.

Brentwood’s eyebrows rose as if in expectation. He leaned toward her, his coated shoulder brushing against hers. The light reflected on half his face, the other side in shadows. His eyes burned with intensity as if a miniature Aurora Borealis swirled in their depths.

“Why didn’t you tell me I’m missing the show?” Luna chimed in from behind them, ruining the moment.

“We just noticed, Ms. Legacy.” Brentwood moved away from Gemme and invited Luna into their semicircle with a wave of his arm. Gemme stepped back in relief and disappointment. At least she hadn’t said anything embarrassing.

Tech couldn’t hide the suspicion is his voice, “Did you find any samples?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to take them back to the lab for analysis.” She flashed a small test tube with her gloved hands.

Standard snow filled the tube, but Gemme kept her mouth shut, shivering as if Luna made the air colder still.

Tech narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“I’m looking for signs of organic life. She stared at him as if he were a toddler, “Microsco-pic or-gan-isms. Aka: too small to see.”

Tech grunted. “Yes, those would make quite a hardy meal.”

“Ugh!” She shook her head and stormed away. Tech shrugged and glanced over to Gemme. “Must have been something I said.”

Gemme decided she liked him more than she initially thought. So what if he drank too much wheat beer sometimes? At least he had a sense of humor.

She watched Brentwood as he set up camp. She wanted to rewind to two seconds ago, when Brentwood gave her his undivided attention. The fire he’d built blazed behind them, warming Gemme’s back. She turned and sat on a supply container, raising her feet to the flames.

“Don’t melt your boots.” Tech collapsed beside her. He’d assembled most of the tents, due to her inexperience with assembly diagrams, and exhaustion shown in the slump of his shoulders.

“Thanks, don’t melt your beard.”

Tech quirked a fuzzy eyebrow and Gemme laughed, feeling light as the energy in the sky. If Tundra 37 had such beauty, what else did it hide? Maybe the ice planet wasn’t such a horrific place to set up a home after all. The possibilities filled Gemme’s head with buoyant hopes.

Her backpack beeped, and she reached down and pulled out her miniscreen.

“Looks like someone’s been looking for you,” Tech said, noticing the incoming message light.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brentwood look up from stacking supply containers as if he was curious. But when she turned his way, he was busy again.

Gemme scrolled down to see a message titled,
How’s the snow?
“It’s Ferris!” she exclaimed, grinning ear to ear.

Brentwood quirked an eyebrow and she gave him a smile. “My brother.”

“Oh.” He scratched his head. “Do you want some privacy to write back?”

“No, no, no.” Gemme stood up, carrying the miniscreen. No reason for everyone to move because of her. “I’ll go into my tent.”

Taking the miniscreen back to her tent, she paused at the flap. Why go inside when such a gorgeous sky hung overhead? She’d spent her whole life under an artificial ceiling; it was about time to get in touch with nature. She found an embankment just underneath a hill on the southern side of camp and settled down, her butt forming an impression in the snow. Balancing the miniscreen in her lap, she watched the lights play out in the sky above her, pausing now and then to type a sentence.

Dear Ferris,

You’re such a galactic worrywart! Tell Mom and Dad I’m fine. The mission is proceeding smoothly, and riding in the landrover is quite an experience. You should be more jealous than concerned.

Sniffling carried on the wind, following by tiny hiccups of sobs. Luna stumbled down the hill a few meters from her and crumpled to her knees. Gemme closed the lid of the miniscreen to help her, but Brentwood beat her to it, appearing at the hilltop. The wind had lessened, and she could hear every word.

“Ms. Legacy, are you all right?” He slid down the hill and helped her up.

She sniffed. “It’s Tech. He doesn’t think what I’m doing here is worthwhile.”

“Oh, he’s just a little blunt sometimes. Don’t worry, he’ll warm up to you. He knows just as much as we all do that we need an alternate food source.”

“I can’t find anything, yet. Some biologist I am.” Gemme was surprised. Luna had seemed so bold and confident around her, and this was a side of her she’d never seen. She wondered if Luna acted out to get Brentwood’s attention, but the tone of her voice sounded sincere.

Brentwood put an arm around her, helping her walk back to camp. “The Seers selected you specifically for the team. They thought you were the best person for the job.”

“No, they didn’t.” Luna scoffed, surprising Gemme. “They picked me because they had to, because I’m a Legacy.”

“Nonsense.” Brentwood’s voice was soothing. “They’d do nothing of the sort.”

Her voice dropped low, and Gemme strained her ears. “It was the least they could do. They were supposed to make me a lieutenant, like all the Legacys before me, but my test scores were too low. They wouldn’t bend the rules to allow it.”