Trial by Ice (A Star Too Far Book 1) Read online

  “We got him!” Avi yelled across the boat.

  Sebastien looked to William with a wide grin, followed by a painful slap on the shoulder.

  O’Toole cried out as the others stripped off his soaked clothing. Vito was pulling the strings of algae from his hair and soiled beard.

  “Are you hurt?” Crow asked as he helped him into a sleeping bag.

  O’Toole suddenly began to laugh. “I’m the only one who doesn’t smell.”

  Vito replied flatly, “You, sir, still smell. It’s the stink that is gone.”

  “At least the water wasn’t cold as hell.”

  “Really?” William asked.

  O’Toole nodded, shivering just a bit.

  “Let’s get back to it,” Selim ordered.

  The crew swarmed, more carefully this time, and checked every knot and wire. Xinhu sat smugly near the prow of the boat and looked at Selim. Selim smiled back with a satisfied look on his face.

  * * *

  The clouds swung and changed to a different tack. The wind remained the same for a short while before pitching the seas into a frothy mess. Each swell grew closer together with spit like foam dancing off of the crests. The crew slid as low as they could and watched the incoming waves.

  As had happened before, the wall of wind broke over the heads of the survivors. It thrashed the thin sail into shredded tatters before they could drop it down. The mast hummed with a stomach-clenching vibration before finally fracturing and disappearing into the sea. What little control they had was now given to the angry sea.

  In a strange moment the wind almost ceased with only the sound of the cresting waves around them. The crew peaked higher and searched, discovering nothing but the grayness of the walls of water around them. Then it pounced again in a renewed fury that was almost vulgar in the violence.

  William grasped tightly to the center of the boat. The waves rolled over the front of the pontoons in a wash of green and gray. Thin tendrils of red algae hung and stuck. All this way to drown. Not now. He slid his way next to Leduc and helped guide the meager rudder.

  What had seemed like a ferocious wind was but a whimper compared to what followed. The first winds ramped up with a wall of sleet. The heavy gray water iced the ropes and turned everything into a sloppy, slippery mess. No one dared to move from where they sat. All were hunched under sleeping bags, the only waterproof cover they had.

  Snow dropped from the sky in giant balls each the size of a man’s fist. They drifted just slow enough to totally obscure vision. Had it happened anywhere else, the scene would have been amazing, now it was crushing.

  With the snow came the darkness of night. Leduc took the lead with the rudder. With any strong shift, William would try to aid the Corporal to keep the nose pointed into the waves. Every rise and drop brought a new fight with a new furious foe.

  Darkness in snow was an unusual feeling. Even with the cloud cover and the dullness of the water the snow itself seemed to echo a dim light. Wave crests could be seen as the snow disappeared into it.

  A new sound startled William as he fought with the rudder. His arms had turned into cold leaden slugs fighting against an unending foe. The tone of the wind and waves was almost hypnotic. What came next to his ears was a horrendous crashing.

  “Breakers!” William howled out. He had debated lashing himself down before but was now glad he didn’t. He had no doubt the boat would be crushed. He only hoped it was a shore different from the rock they had left to the north.

  “Pull! Pull for all you’ve got!” Leduc shouted through the icy mist.

  William could sense Leduc increasing his sculling and synced his movements. He looked up and saw the slightest hint of a glow coming from Leduc’s face. The man had his night vision on. William gripped as tight as he could on the rudder pole and struggled in unison.

  The sudden and violent sound of the breakers began to shift and slide but at the same moment the height of the waves grew. The deep shore near the rocky cliffs was averted but the slow track of sand into the beach was yet a perilous journey.

  If they had a sail, they may have been able to keep enough velocity to power up the back of one breaker and stay upright down the front. But instead the waves moved faster than they did. With each rolling wave the rear of the boat crested upwards and danced on the bow before heeling backwards. Until it didn’t.

  The sudden heave forward was steeper than those before. William could feel it in his gut. He knew that it would happen but a part of him hoped he could avoid getting thrown into the inky dark water. Before he could do anything but close his mouth, he was hurled into the water.

  The only luck of the trip occurred the moment the boat had been pitched forward. Had it simply flipped, most of the crew would have been crushed underneath. They had come in close enough on a high tide and high rollers to finally come to the shallow sand that brought the high pitched white waves to a halt.

  William was in the water with no bearing of up or down. The crushing roll of a breaker grated him against the sandy bottom. He thrashed up and off the bottom and found himself back in the chill air. He gasped. Water! The burn he felt was so fierce that even his soul felt scalded. The water burst into his lungs.

  He clawed his hand upward into the cold air and stood up. The surprise at feeling solid sandy soil was almost as intense as getting smashed by another wave. He was ready for what to do the next time and steadied himself as he worked himself into the shore. With each step the water grew shallower, the foam thicker, and the waves tamer.

  The rollers loomed and hissed. The booming violence of the waves was incessant as men, gear, and a large ramshackle boat came ashore. Slowly and painfully the survivors crept onto the wet beach. The Marines gathered up the Navy ratings and everyone huddled underneath the last shred of the original shelter.

  “We’re down one!” Selim shouted over the roar of the wind and breakers.

  “Who? Did we lose the wounded?” William hollered back. The last two severely wounded were Tik and the strider jockey, Von Hess. He had been afraid that they would drown if the boat failed them.

  “I’m here!” Tik called.

  “Da, me too!” Von Hess shouted.

  “Kwesi, I think it’s Kwesi.”

  “Sergeant, we need to find that man!” William yelled, standing. The weight of the shelter pushed against his back slapping him with every gust of wind.

  “You with me!” Selim yelled to William. “Leduc, and Aleksandr, go the other way. Crow, keep a watch here. Go a few hundred meters and come back.”

  The men emerged from the crumpled shelter and found a world of wet and whiteness. The air was just warm enough to keep the snow from sticking but not warm enough to turn it into rain.

  William almost missed the dry chill of the north as his waterlogged clothes were soaked even more. He thought back to when he was in the water, it had felt warmer than the air. Or was his mind playing tricks on him?

  The pair crawled as they moved along the steep beach. The wet sand was oddly inviting as they moved into the darkness. Selim scanned as they crested each rise only to find nothing. They stopped at a wall of dark stone and turned back.

  Selim grasped his shoulder and helped him onto the rise above the beach. William felt something he hadn’t touched in years: real grass. His fingers clumped it up and he stuck it into his pocket.

  They moved down the grassy rise and slid down the shore back to the shelter. Inside the group sat in silence. A single strip bush-purple light dimly illuminated the shelter. Kwesi lay motionless in the center of the covered area. His head lay at an impossible angle on his shoulders.

  “Must’ve broke his neck when the boat rolled,” Crow said.

  William nodded. His fingers clumped on the cold grass in his pocket. He knelt down and tucked it into Kwesi’s breast pocket. “How many?” he said softly.

  Sebastien replied just loud enough to William could hear him: “As many as it takes.”

  William looked to the veteran Marine
before closing his eyes. A strange relief washed over him. They had made it. They had escaped the damnable rock and were on a grassy land. They had survived! The colony only had one continent with grass, and they were on it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Land's Edge

  William opened his eyes and let the sound of the waves wash over him. The sand was strangely comfortable and he had slept extraordinarily well. Through a gap in the tent he could see the slightest gray of the waking morning.

  The horizon was barely light when he stood and looked out to the sea. The boat lay a hundred meters out. The front of the tanks were battered and smashed. It was standing upright but looked to be deformed from the shock.

  Farther down the beach loomed rugged stone cliffs. Had Leduc not been able to see those horrible walls they would have been dashed and destroyed. William spent a long minute looking.

  He began to dig just below the grassy rise. Thin gravel lay not far below the sand. His fingernails ached and became packed with the grit.

  “Let me relieve you, sir,” Avi said.

  William nodded and sat back away from the dim gray trench.

  More men emerged. Each took his turn widening the trench. They laid him down in silence. A quick few words were spoken and the body was buried. A salute was given silently and the men spread onto the beach to search for supplies.

  When they had sailed south they had little, now they had even less. Each man yet had a weapon, some still had sidearms. The stubby nose of the Beretta launcher was protruding from the sand. Selim swore that it would still fire.

  The tide retreated and the winds ebbed, allowing them to gather the rest of the supplies that were still onboard. The reactor was silent and dull. The case of Chilean grenades were a welcome surprise. The purifier, the one thing they needed, was missing the entire filtration canister.

  “How shall we proceed Mr. Grace?” Sergeant Crow asked.

  William scanned down the beach and off to the rocks. “Well Sergeant, I’m thinking inland a bit to get out of the wind and follow whatever shore heads more southwards. Would you agree?”

  Crow nodded. “Not much else to be done.” He saluted and walked away to pass out orders.

  William returned the salute and wondered what exactly his plan was. Head south was the original plan, but now they were south. What next indeed?

  He ran his fingers over his greasy beard. They were all a horrible mess. His mind danced along the thought of infection.

  The camp, what little was left, was torn down. The reactor was left on the edge of a small hillock with a rock cairn on top. No matter how Eduardo poked and prayed it simply would not power up.

  The wounded became walking wounded. Pulling the sled over the grass was far too arduous. The pace was slowed and two men ranged in front of the group as scouts.

  The ground personnel walked as a cohesive unit. They spread out far enough part so that a single bomb, drone, or explosive charge couldn’t take more than one out. The weapons hung loosely and were never far from a knowing hand. William was surrounded with professionals.

  “Sebastien, let me walk with you,” William asked.

  The augmented Marine turned and regarded him with a lazy eye. “What can I do for you Midshipman?”

  William paused while he tried to find the correct wording. “My knowledge of ground combat is, well, lacking. What would you recommend?”

  Sebastien smiled and nodded. “When it comes time, simply stay back and observe. Keep your damn head down as well. Private Avinash has been assigned to keep you out of trouble.”

  “Oh.”

  Sebastien sensed the change of tone. “All of the Naval personnel have a Marine or soldier assigned. We need to maximize our force, can’t have a bunch of useless Navy ratings.” He smiled at William and walked in silence.

  William kept pace. Useless Navy—was that how the Marine saw him?

  * * *

  The group moved inland half a kilometer. They laid in the grass while Kerry and Leduc climbed a low hill to the south. The only conversation was of food. It was decided to rotate the forward scouts between all the crew. The paired civilians would take a turn with their respective escort to learn how to move.

  Leduc jogged down with Kerry faltering behind.

  “There’s a small river a bit east, it looks like that coast heads south. To the west it just keeps going,” Leduc said, out of breath.

  William nodded. “At least we can get a drink.”

  “There’s something that shines, too, off near the water past the river,” Leduc said.

  “First thing’s first,” William said. “We’re filthy. Everyone is going to strip and take a rinse.”

  The crew looked at him like he was crazy.

  “I’m serious. We’re all waiting for an infection with just a little scratch.”

  The grumbles followed as they set off for the river. William sensed they didn’t mind so much the bath as they were anxious to see the glittering object in the distance.

  The river was laced with dull gravel and filled with water so cold it numbed the toes in seconds. The crew stripped down and entered, howling. Each man drank until his teeth were too chilled to sip down anymore.

  Except Tik, who sat watch in the distance with a rifle on her lap.

  William regarded his clothing with disgust. He felt even filthier putting it back on. His Naval uniform was soiled so terribly that it had started to break down in spots.

  The men moved over the hill and Tik reluctantly went off to bathe. A shriek echoed over the hill verified her entry into that icy slip. The men laughed as they warmed themselves in the midday sun.

  Hunger had become a constant companion. All around them was grass, green as an emerald, and totally inedible. Stomachs growled and knots tightened as the pace slowed to nearly a crawl.

  Xinhu was in the lead when he dropped to his stomach and raised a clenched fist above his head. The rest of the column followed suit. Weapons slowly slid forward. Everyone strained to listen and look.

  Xinhu crawled slowly forward on his stomach with his head tilted to the side. His trainer, Aleksandr, was creeping behind. Xinhu scurried back from the rise and looked to William with eyes wild with fear.

  “What is it?” Leduc hissed.

  “It’s an alien!” Xinhu cursed back.

  The men tensed. William looked to Vito, who shrugged back.

  “Aleksandr, go look!” Leduc said.

  A look of dread spread across Aleksandr’s face. He crawled in the slick grass as slowly as he could manage with his rifle hooked into his arm. Reaching Xinhu, he paused and the pair whispered a moment. He slowly crept forward.

  “Gah! You dumb shit!” Aleksandr shouted. He swatted Xinhu in the face as he sat up.

  “What is it?” Crow yelled from the rear of the column.

  “Stupid son-of-a-bitch. Don’t you know what that is?” Aleksandr said. His fingers poked and prodded at Xinhu who lay on the ground, confused and scared.

  William ran up with Crow and Selim. Each had a weapon at ready as they crested over the small rise. His heart was beating fast and his eyes dilated from the adrenaline. The taste of metal was in the back of his mouth.

  The alien, as Xinhu had seen it, had four legs, a dark black snout, and was covered in shaggy grayish white wool. The alien, so foreign to a man born on an asteroid, was a sheep. The trio couldn’t help but break into a smile.

  The next question became how they could eat it.

  No firewood was about and no one wanted to eat it raw—yet. They tied a thin piece of electrical wire around its neck and led it slowly behind. It seemed not to mind and bleated occasionally as it stopped to graze. They learned in a short distance that sheep were not prized for their intellect.

  Xinhu walked at the rear of the column, embarrassed about the entire ordeal. He tried to explain himself at first. Eventually he gave up and watched the strange beast.

  * * *

  The land around them was covered in thick emerald green
grass. The hills were low, gentle, and peaked with a rubble of white stone. It was a land touched by man, but barely scratched.

  The shining object was an alloy spire. It was driven into the ground with a terrible impact. Chambers and hollows ran all the way to the peak, five meters off the ground. Vito studied it and proclaimed that it was a terraforming capsule, spreading grass seed as it dropped from orbit.

  They came above a small rise and found the shepherd. The shepherd was a young boy, barely six years-old, and scared. He wore wool trousers and a heavy wool sweater. He had been engrossed in a flexible tablet and hadn’t seen the group. He sat on the ground and stared up at the rough looking men around him. His name was Saul.

  After a brief conversation, he led them back towards the sea. They were continuing on in the same direction as they had been. The boy said little and eyed them warily.

  The group followed the boy to a larger flock of sheep. They edged nearer to the sea. A group of low structures, weather worn and tarnished with age, sat near a crumbled pier. A rough corral filled with sheep sat near the edge of town. A thin two rut road wound its way south.

  William called a halt. “Everyone relax. Sebastien, Vito, we’re heading into town.”

  The road troubled him. He hadn’t expected to run into people, or a settlement. Where did the road go? He walked in silence behind the boy.

  The place was old. Most of the buildings had no roof or windows. It looked like someone had moved out long ago and only recently came back. The walls nearest the sea were battered and beaten from the storms.

  They came to a large building with bundles of thin sticks stacked outside. The boy entered first, followed by William and Sebastien.

  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The room smelled of grain and cooked meat. A tall man stood as they entered. As William’s eyes adjusted, he saw that the man was old, very old.