The Frozen Fires

Outside in the blazing white winds of Canada, I was pulling a sled through the shards of ice being blown around by the harsh winds. Each one like little daggers jittering around on the ground when they ran out of breath, flying through the air with only hate and intent to kill anything above ground level. I can hear the constant chattering of the shards bouncing off my plate armor that encased my electrothermal coat keeping me toasty.

The ceramic coating of the rolled metals gave it not only a sheen and sleek look that I enjoyed. It also helped keep the spikey bits of the flying shard from finding a home somewhere inside me. Walking against the wind, I was leaning so far forward I was walking on the tips of my toes, which were equipped with a series of spikes designed to crack the frozen surface after a few kicks to give myself some footing. It was like climbing a mountain but the gravity was pulling me forward instead of down.

My neck craned up to look what would be considered above, because of the angle it sat at. I was scanning for the flags that would denote that I am close to another underground village. We used to map the surface with tethers and other landmarks but the snow kept burying them. We found out that the compass still worked in the cold if it was heated by the exhaust of our suits. I had to check it every once in a while to make sure I was still going in the right direction.

Just a little higher up on my arm my pedometer showed my step count. It was connected to my exosuit, which counted distance moved in steps. It also had sensors that weren’t great, but on days that it worked right, it would subtract if I even slid when the winds picked up and even laying down on the ground would move me.

The only reason I was making this journey was because the trade tunnel was blocked up and we needed more supplies to make the week while the tunnel was being cleared. My family needed them. My son just turned six and was finally able to get a job changing the water filters in people’s homes. Anyone could do it but this was better suited for the younger and smaller people since everything was so condensed. In order to add more space we had to drill through some of the strongest ice we’ve ever seen. And drilling it just a bit too much would cause it to fracture. This could lead to whole communities being split in half which would end all their lives.

Being exposed to the cold that quickly, nobody would be able to prepare fast enough. It has happened twice that I know of in my lifetime. Those sections of “land” were still closed off from expansion because the ice was still too soft to warrant any drilling in the area. Not to mention we needed to get teams in there to recycle all the resources lost.

Wiping my heated goggles off again to make sure the speckles of water didn’t freeze over too soon, I could see it. The glowing tether spiring off into the sky. They were glowing because they were heated cables that were attached to solar sails that float above all the ice and winds of Canada. It was almost the only way to get any power other than the few nuclear plants. Every cluster had one of these as a back-up in case they were separated like this. I finally made it.

In my bag I pulled what the engineers called the “campfire”. Just a large circle that used a betavoltaic battery to heat everything and melt a hole down to the door. It kept it warm long enough usually to get an answer. I tied my sled to the tether and set my campfire next to the tether about one pace north. That is the standard. And if not it would get me close enough.

I felt like steam started to rise before I even pressed the button after unlatching and lifting the safety panel. Like the device was eager to do its job. I pushed it down a little in the ice to keep it from flying away and stepped back. The unshielded radiation from these things always gave me a little bit of a headache. I stepped just far enough away to where I can still see the heat waves generated by the device as it made its way down beneath the surface.

I didn’t let too much time go by as I readied my attached climbing gear from the inside of my wrists. I started throwing my leg over the hole’s maw. For the first few steps, I was still pushed firmly against the freshly hardened ice but soon was able to push myself away as I got further from the wind’s influence. Then shortly after that, I was able to reach the entrance and put my feet firmly on the ground after turning off the campfire. Most of the metal door and the campfire itself was still red hot so I had to wait for it to cool at least a little so the weight of it operating wouldn’t damage it.

In waiting, I got to see the only tranquil moment of life on the surface. It was snow like they would have in the historical films. I was told this place was called Lake Michigan at some point. And it would thaw every spring. Even some of the winters weren’t cold enough to freeze it over, which is hard to imagine now. In fact it is hard to even imagine snow not being made by careening ice spikes flying into the top of the hole and shattering into little particles that were slowly falling down in a beautiful spiral of natural art.

Looking down, I could see the snow melting away into steam before it even got close to the door but I knocked as the redness had dulled down to the usual grey tones of the metal with blackened spots where campfires have rested before. Two booming knocks came back through the intercom which told me they heard and were responding to my requested entry.

I stood in the middle as I was showered by sparks. The slits in the door shot out thermite to quickly melt anything that would freeze the door in place as the hydraulic lift brought me down. The door was replaced with another and the door I was standing on is now a floor transporting me to the people that were going to help me load supplies for my family. For all the others at home. And get me up to date on an ETA for when they were getting this blockage fixed. I couldn’t imagine giving us supplies once a week due to us being cut off was something they enjoyed.

Standing in the heatlock room, I was able to finally take off my helmet and some of the other equipment that had been bolted on me so long it felt like it was becoming a part of me. And it was always heavier taking it off since the skeleton on the inside kept the weight off of me. Actually the suit did more of the weight lifting and walking than I did. I just gave it direction and used my pressure and power to give it a guide on how much to use.

I set it all aside as gently as I could as the room warmed up and the door on the other side opened. A small platoon of men were on the other side. “Greetings.” One of them took the role of leader as he came in and inspected the heated tube we were both standing in. “I thought there would be more of you.” He seemed disappointed and perplexed.

“More? No. We have the more advanced surface suits. The ones that do most of the work for you. Only needed one guy.” I pointed at myself. “Me. Do you have the supplies ready? I have my sled tied up.” I pointed up to emphasize that it was still waiting on me.

“Ah, nah. Your cluster has been decommissioned for recycling. Don’s orders.” The man pulled a gun.

“Don? Don’t you guys have a mayor?” This was worrisome. I was always told there were large crime families in the closer clusters. I never believed it. That people were still trying to put themselves above others at times like these when we needed everyone to work together to survive. It finally clicked that he was pointing a gun at me. “No, please. Let me just get back home. Let me warn them. Let me get my family to safety at least.”

The crime lord before me stopped and thought for a moment and looked over his shoulders before talking. Almost like he was boasting and wanted his men to hear his plan. “What do you got on you? You gotta make it worth it for me to let you go back.”

“Nothing. I just have the things I need to get here and back.” I patted myself like something was just going to manifest itself in my pockets to save my life.

“I like that suit. Never seen one like that.” One of the goons prodded at it with a knife. Trying to investigate it like it was something he knew anything about.

“I need that to get back. I can trade you for one of your used ones though.” I was fishing for something. Anything to get my family to safety.

“Trade? Your family’s life for that suit. We need something else for one of our suits.” His toothy smile wrapped itself around his head showing how proud he was in his ability to negotiate.

“Look I need to be able to get back. And you can just take the suit anyway. You got to give me a chance.” Another goon came over and knocked the wind out of me.

“Can I skin ‘em boss?” he asked as he stood over me. I was gasping for air and trying to push myself off of the ground to show I wasn’t weak.

“Eh, just off ‘em. I already got to see the hope fall out of ‘is eyes.” His smile vanished almost as quickly as it showed. He turned and walked away. The last thing I heard as I stood up and reached out was the bang of a gun. My last thought was of my son. That he would be wondering where I was. If I was safe. When I would be coming home. The last thing I felt was pulling myself forward. Trying to gain some ground. Then my muscles grew weak and worthless.

I could see it. The pristine lake. Just like in the movies. Glistening from the sun rays bouncing off its not perfect surface. Little waves kissed my toes gently as I stood on the soft sands of the beachhead. I could hear the birds calling to each other. The last thing I could feel was the warmth of the sun. I turned and saw my family. They were playing in the sand making a little castle. My daughter is filling the moat with some of Lake Michigan's water. While my son stacks another overturned bucket to give his castle keep another story.

My beautiful wife watches the children play. Basking in the sun’s light and moving her hair aside to notice me. She smiled invitingly at me. If this is what death was like, why would anyone want to be alive?

By

Stephen Donnelly