Cold Day
“Why?” He had been planet-side for six months, and had seen just about everything the not-so-earthlike rock could throw at them. Another day of cold weather was something he was prepared to endure.
“Because I said so!” Zebra was a good man, but could get rattled under pressure – he really had no business at the station Commander, but was the only one willing to take on the job when it had been offered. Jim had been with the Expeditionary Force for twenty years, and had no interest in Zebra's position. Sure, the pay was better but just about everything else was a hell of a lot worse. Not only were you required to keep all of the engineers, astrotechs and flyboys happy on the surface of whatever world you were assigned, but if something went wrong it was your ass on the line. A increase in rank and a few more creds pay weren't worth the headache, as far as Jim was concerned.
“Do you want to try that again, Commander?” He said gently. There was no point in screaming at the thin man, especially since he'd take it instead of fighting back or threatening security action. Pal was the least offensive of any Commander Jim had served under, though that wasn't always a good thing. Discipline on the station was lax, at best, and several ambitious members of the thousand member team had started to get ideas about a possible change in leadership. On earth they'd never have considered such a thing, but being out on the fringes did odd things to the mind. “Why exactly can't I go outside?”
“Temperature, Jim,” Pal's voice was calmer now, “we've detected a massive storm moving in from the north – a kind we've never seen before. If our readings are accurate, it could be twice as cold as anything we've encountered so far. Even your gear wouldn't be enough to save you.”
Jim grunted, then stepped aside. The Commander was the only one who knew how to use the temp-monitoring equipment, or so he believed. Reading a thermometer - no matter how technologically advanced - was a simple matter, but Pal needed something that was his alone,and everyone else on the station was willing to let him have the outside monitoring station for his bailiwick.
“Minus twenty-five right now, Jim – you're good to go out for a while, but I want you back here in two hours.”
A quick nod and Jim moved to the door handle again. He had no intention of being back in the allotted time, but there was no sense in arguing the point with Zebra. The Commander wouldn't discipline him, regardless, and he had samples that needed to be collected on Alpha Ridge – an hour and a half away, even by speeder. “I'll see you soon.”
Zebra nodded back and then wandered back into the station, hands clasped at his waist. He was a good man and in another circumstance Jim was sure they could get along, but as a Commander Pal did nothing except interfere with the research taking place on the station. Jim wasn't one of the mutineers, but agreed that a change of command would be best for everyone.
Five minutes of prep saw him on the planet's surface, zipping up his cryo-coat to the neck and making sure no wind could get in under his gloves or around his faceguard. He'd lived through worse temperatures even back on earth but if Pal was right - the cold was just getting started on Taral X. Waiting a few more days to get the samples would have been easier, but precise calculations said that they would be useless in less than twenty-four hours and if a storm was coming that time could shorten even more.
Doing his best to ignore the wind, Jim grabbed the nearest speeder and set off for the Red Hills. Time was wasting.
***
Pal hadn't been kidding about the storm – for once, the Commander had been absolutely accurate in his prediction.
A cave had been the only thing to save Jim from the howling wind and snow that swept down just as he reached the sample site, and though he'd been able to collect everything he set up a week ago it wouldn't do him much good if he couldn't get back and analyze it. Another look outside showed that the snow was only getting worse; it was still difficult to call the heavy greenish slop “snow”, but he'd been assured its properties were nearly identical to the white and fluffy version back on earth.
His communicator remained mute thanks to EM shifts in the hills, but Jim was typically able to get out at least a burst signal if he needed help. It must have been the storm – high-altitude lightning was a common feature for even winter weather on Taral X, one that only added to his problems calling the station.
Two fire packs were all he'd thought to bring, which would give him heat to last a single night. Driving through the snow on a speeder was possible but dangerous in the dark, and he'd prefer to see his death coming.
Two hours had him just settling in when he heard a noise further back in the cave. Most of the region had been surveyed for life, but the shifting EM pulses interfered with even short-range equipment. Jim cursed himself for leaving his blaster back at the station, then stood and moved to put the fire between his body and the back of the cave.
“Hello?” He called, loudly. Hopefully, whatever he'd heard was small and skittish.
“Noserea?” It took him a moment to place the reply as language, though not one he'd ever heard. A figure emerged from the darkness, tall and pale, with eyes too small for a wide head and arms that seemed on the verge of breaking. He cursed again. Zebra was the exobiologist, not him, and he had no idea what to do next.
The strange thing walked up to the fire, extending thin hands and fixing him with a stretched smile.
Jim smiled back, fear rising. It appeared he had a bunkmate for the night.
- D
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