Under Snow and Stars

Under Snow and Stars By Gareth Vaughn “Come on, Eryx, you can’t go out in that,” said Cassandra. Again. Eryx ignored her. Again. He could handle a little snow. It was the work environment for practically half the year, and the chances of getting lost with the appropriate equipment were almost none. He finished with his boots and straightened. “Projections show it’s a big one. Tina already pulled in Jon and Mandy, and you know Mandy’s work on those ibex stats was good. It sucks when we’re all sardined in here together, but this isn’t a few flakes. You can die out in that.” “I saw your weather data. You heard the alerts.” “You’re not seriously going after those poachers,” said Cassandra. Eryx didn’t look at her. He clipped his transmitter to his belt and reached for his company-provided gun, staying far away from her amber eyes and firm gaze. Cassandra didn’t understand what he was going through right now. The walls here were pushing in on him. “It’s not worth it,” she said. “Last time they got five leopards,” said Eryx. “And Ray got fired. But that was preventable. None of us will get let go for this. We’re supposed to stay put in weather this bad—you know every time we get refresher training we’re reminded the SeeingSpots CEO doesn’t want to deal with our families suing.” Eryx turned his back on her and walked toward the heavy metal door. It didn’t matter how good Cassandra’s arguments got—he wasn’t going to stay stuck at home base with half a dozen other scientists and specialists if there was an excuse to go out. Even if it was a dangerous one. She followed him down the hall, Eryx clenching his teeth as he heard her footsteps behind him. Cassandra’s work bordered on perfect, but she wasn’t the sort of person to keep high standards to herself. Sometimes he appreciated it for the errors it caught and time it saved, but other times it was downright infuriating. Still, he knew she couldn’t really stop him from leaving base. “Do you need more time off?” she asked, the irritation suddenly out of her voice. “I was talking to Tina about the possibility of some of us donating time off so you can get another chance to return to Earth and visit your brother.” Eryx’s fingers fumbled on the zipper of his coat. “I’m good,” he said, and knew that she knew it was a lie. The faster he got out into the snowstorm, the better. “It’s just…you haven’t said anything since you got back a few weeks ago. I figure…things are bad. You should get a chance to try again.” Eryx couldn’t stand here listening to this. His throat felt tight. He wanted to breathe in the damp, cold air of the wintry storm, let it cool him off some. He went for his gloves, and Cassandra went for a different tactic. “We’re supposed to handle poachers in twos.” “Report me to Tina,” said Eryx, louder than he meant to, and hit the unlock on the door. Cassandra didn’t follow him out. The path he and the other team members had worn into the snow was already filling up with fresh flakes. The light was a dull grey and getting darker as the cloud cover thickened. Eryx didn’t pause before taking the path to the left, comfortable enough navigating familiar territory even in this weather. Large, wet flakes came down hard like rain, caught on the fleece covering his mouth, and melted. Stuck to his eyelashes. Danced in the air. Eryx exhaled hard, relief filling him with each chill breath of air. It was good to be out doing something, away from coworkers trying to make uncomfortable small talk. The difference between the atmosphere of home base with its low ceilings and cramped rooms, and out here where there was nothing but hills and mountains and sky, was abrupt and freeing. Immediately some of the stress Eryx had felt wrapping around him like an invisible snake started to ease up and slide off. Visibility was s**t, even at the start of the storm, but Eryx knew generally where he was going. There were paths they used regularly, and even paths they used semi-regularly he knew like the back of his hand. Those would get him to the area he wanted to be in, where the poachers had shown up on the satellite system. His transmitter would lead him the rest of the way. The air had that sound to it when the world went almost completely still and everything seemed to echo in the few feet around him, like the falling snow was bouncing Eryx’s presence back at him. His boots depressing the snow sounded dull and cottony. All the birds had taken cover. Really, any creature with any sense had taken cover, apart from him. And the poachers. Cassandra was right; a single person really couldn’t handle an entire team bent on nabbing half a dozen leopards. Eryx knew he should turn back. It was pointless. Even if he found them he doubted he’d be able to shoot. Trained though he was, he knew he couldn’t kill anyone. Before he’d returned to Earth he would have had a different answer, but not now, not after seeing AJ. His mind wandered to his brother, how he’d said he forgave Eryx on transmission. AJ had been sick for years and Eryx had gotten used to blowing all his time off visiting family because family could never visit him, could never meet him halfway, hop a space flight to some destination planet halfway between Earth and out here. Eryx was the one who’d moved so far away, after all. Who’d taken a job working for some rich bastard on a privately owned planet in an obscure system with a forgettable name. Who regularly missed holidays and never had much to send back on video transmissions. He knew it was the grief, but recently the walls at base seemed to press in on him, blame him for living out here, immersed in work. He also knew he should take Cassandra up on her offer. Eryx figured his parents could use a visitor, even if he didn’t think he was ready to go back to Earth yet. Even if he couldn’t stand Cassandra’s caring and didn’t want to feel he owed her anything. Eryx stopped, pulled out his transmitter, and checked the GPS. The poachers’ ship was halfway around a foothill a good mile and a quarter off this path. He blinked snowflakes off his eyelashes and considered. In normal weather, the trek would be easy. But with the snow piling up and the flakes increasing, it was dangerous. Of course, if he injured himself he could always message home base for Tina to send people to get him. She’d be pissed and he’d get written up. Again, probably, if Cassandra had done her duty and reported him. Eryx knew he should turn back. Instead, he adjusted his gun and stepped off the path. Over halfway toward where he wanted to be, the transmitter started getting buggy. Eryx adjusted and adjusted again, but the GPS couldn’t get a fix on the poachers’ ship. Once it dropped off completely, he set the guides to last known position and continued on, until he realized the GPS wasn’t reading him either. “s**t,” he muttered to the storm swirling around him, flakes thicker and heavier now. The equipment was supposed to handle this sort of interference. Supposed to never lose operator coordinates. He’d run the checks on it before leaving, but it was just his luck it would choose now to break, when he was halfway to where he wanted to be. The bright white and darker grey flecks of snow against the dull grey background of storm hurt his eyes, made them water. He blinked hard, determined not to let himself get emotional. But the situation had turned so fast, and Eryx was still dealing with the last time that had happened to him, and finally he admitted to himself he’d gone too far. If the GPS wasn’t working, the poachers could be anywhere, even surround him, and he wouldn’t know. If it couldn’t locate his signal, he had no way to navigate back to home base. The snowstorm had intensified in the past ten minutes, and the cold had chilled the heat of Eryx’s frustration and helplessness. He felt ridiculous, standing alone in the middle of the wilds, and so very tired. He wanted to get somewhere warm and sleep. “Base Home, come in,” he said to his transmitter, not proud he had to ask for a rescue but not foolish enough to try to haul his ass back without some way of knowing where he was going. “Eryx?” The response sounded grainy, and he couldn’t identify the speaker’s voice. “Where are—your transmit—” “Yeah, it’s not working too well. You’re breaking up.” “I said—r transmitter.” Eryx adjusted the device again, swallowing back building panic. Home base wasn’t reading him either. Cassandra was probably telling everyone how she’d tried to stop Eryx from leaving; Tina would be ordering her to shut up. But if they couldn’t locate him, Eryx was still stuck. In the middle of a snowstorm projected to last at least two days. No water, no food, just a gun and a group of armed poachers out there who would definitely kill him if they could. “—and we will guide you. Respond affirmative, please.” Eryx breathed out as the transmission cleared, almost to the point where he could guess who might be on the other end. It sounded like Mandy. Maybe. “Yes,” said Eryx, turning to face the way he’d come. His boot prints were already eaten up by fresh snow. “Ready.” “Turn to two o’clock and walk carefully. The area there gets rocky.” Eryx paused. He definitely hadn’t come from that direction. “What? Please confirm that’s the way back to home base.” “We’re not guiding you to Base Home. It’s too far. There’s a minor station in your area where you can wait out the storm. Base Four.” The voice was definitely Mandy’s. Just at the edge of the transmission, Eryx heard someone who could only be Tina. “That asshole. If he gets himself killed—” “Copy,” said Eryx, adjusting his direction. Well, at least he could put off getting chewed out by Tina. He wondered how many times she could write him up. He didn’t think he’d regret getting fired. Not really. He doubted his parents wanted more bad news, though. Getting to this point in the snow hadn’t seemed to take any time, but the next three tenths of a mile stretched on and on. Mandy gave him simple directions, but the closer he got to Base Four, the worse the transmitter functioned. Mandy’s voice grew grainy again, then clipped, and at the point where Eryx could make out only every third word, he grew concerned. “Which direction?” he asked after she’d updated his course again. He was only three-hundred-and-seventy feet from where he wanted to be, but in a storm like this, Base Four might as well be on the other hemisphere. “—to—” Eryx adjusted the transmitter for the next ten minutes, but the connection had gone. He stood there for another five, snow whipping aggressively around him as the wind picked up. He could die a few hundred feet from shelter, all because he hadn’t wanted to stay locked up in a little building. All the tension in his body bubbled over and he laughed until the cold air hurt his throat and made him cough. He really had no option other than to try to find Base Four with nothing to go on. Eryx picked a likely direction and walked deeper into the storm.