Yule Planet Page 4

  All too soon, it was time to go back out into the frozen wasteland. Maybe if there'd been trees or pretty mountains or little coffee kiosks along the way it wouldn't have been so bad. But no. There was nothing but the expanse of never-ending white and the whispering, tugging winds. If they hadn't made it from one shelter to the next, Sofia would've been convinced no one could navigate in that featureless wilderness, but somehow Shara led them in a constant, unerring plod.

  Either she knew where she was going or Shadow did. That or they'd all been lying about having long-range comm. Maybe they were navigating by pinging the satellite ring, and they just didn't want to bother contacting the resort.

  Sofia gave her head a violent shake. Now wasn't the time. Everyone was clambering aboard. Marta was already up on Snowglider, gazing down at her, and honestly? With everything so stiff and sore, Sofia didn't know if she could manage. She lifted her arms as high as she could, whimpering as every cell in her body screamed at her, but she pulled and got a foothold. Hand over hand, in little increments, she worked her way toward the top.

  When she risked a glance up, Marta was still frowning at her. Great. She still thinks I'm hopeless. Sofia gritted her teeth and tried not to scream in frustration when she slipped. A hand closed over the back of her coat. A heave and a short scramble, and she was up.

  Marta had helped her.

  Staring in shock, Sofia righted herself and settled on Snowglider's back. Marta gave her a curt nod and whistled at her mount, the huge body beneath them beginning the ponderous roll of its walking gait as it fell into place in line.

  "Thank you," Sofia murmured belatedly.

  If Marta heard she gave no indication, her attention on the landscape ahead. Had Marta felt sorry for her? Of course, that meant Marta had to have feelings beyond annoyed. Or had Sofia been helpful enough that she wasn't tourist scum anymore? At least, not as much tourist scum? Were there measurable degrees of that? Downgraded from a level six TS to a level four?

  Not that she cared what any of these convicts thought.

  As Fiero had promised, the second full day of riding was worse than the first. With her legs, butt, and back already on fire, Sofia shifted positions often and tried to think of pleasant things. Problem was, thinking of the resort, warm fires, massages, and heated pools just made her more miserable. She was damned if she was going to complain or whine about it. Neither Marta nor Snowglider would care. Instead she began to construct charts in her head concerning how much Yule Planet would have to pay its work-release crews for the off-site—and out-of-sight—supply drops to occur.

  At first she only hit frustrated walls in her mind, since she didn't know if the resort supplied and equipped the work crews, how many crews there were, if they provided chionisaur food, how far each drop zone was from the resort, and so on. The miles dragged on so long, though, that became a game in itself as she compared what it might cost with this number of work crews to that, approximate possible costs of feeding giant beasts, equipment- and supply-cost comparisons if the resort provided, or if those items were deducted from crew pay.

  None of this made the ride any less painful, but it helped to keep Sofia from screaming.

  What little light the day offered had leaked away by the time Shara signaled from the front of the caravan that the next shelter was in sight. The chionisaurs picked up the pace, speeding to an ungainly trot-waddle as the end of the day's journey neared, forcing Sofia to cling to the straps and clench her teeth to keep them from banging together with each hard jounce.

  Snowglider jostled with Popsicle as the chionisaurs bunched up in front of another huge semicircular door. This shelter, maybe because of the way the snow had fallen and the winds had blown in this area, was partially visible and confirmed that the buildings were shaped like shuttle hangars.

  After a pat to the beast's neck, Marta slid down Snowglider's shoulder effortlessly, and a jealous shiver ran through Sofia at her surety and grace. She was sure Marta would go marching off to one errand or another and so was shocked when Marta stood at her chionisaur's side and patted the harness as she gazed up at Sofia with goggled eyes.

  Another figure joined her—Fiero, by the red tassel. "Come on, Cancino! Slide on down. You can do this."

  Sofia dragged both of her legs to dangle over the side and swallowed against a dry throat. It wasn't really that far. She was falling into snow, not on sharp rocks. A little twist to the side to slow her down…

  "I'll catch you, but it's gotta be now! Wind's kicking up again!"

  I can do this. I'm not helpless. And Sergeant Fiero's right there.

  Right side face in, Sofia had every intention of grabbing the straps on the way down to slow her descent. Her precipitous slide foiled the attempt nicely and she slid down with a shriek, caught up at the bottom with one pair of strong hands under her arms and another around her waist.

  She found herself staring right into Marta's hood, the eco-terrorist's eyebrows raised above her snow goggles, Marta's hands the ones around Sofia's waist.

  "Ah…sorry?"

  One eyebrow rose an impossible fraction more, and Marta turned away to gather the chionisaurs to her with clicks and whistles.

  Fiero patted her shoulder. "Not too bad. You'll get it. Haul ass inside and see where Shara wants you."

  Where Sofia could only slog, Fiero ran inside, most likely to get the ventilation and power grid running. While most of the team seemed to pitch in generally, she was starting to pick up some definite areas of specialization: Fiero, their engineer; Petey, their cook; and Marta, their dinosaur herder.

  Or something like that. She wasn't entirely sure what Marta's role was with the chionisaurs or why they followed her like gigantic, ugly puppies. When she crossed the threshold, Shara pointed her to the kitchen, which was fine with Sofia. She could sit on something that wasn't moving and talk to Petey, whom she found the most reasonable, approachable person in this pack of outcasts.

  "Why the hangar shapes?" she asked as she sorted through a box for the kind of beans Petey wanted. "I guess it makes sense in the winds? But wouldn't it be better, warmer, to break up the space inside?"

  Petey chuckled as he sliced an onion. "You know, I asked the same question when I first came. It does seem inefficient at first. But this way, we share space with the chionisaur pack, and they give off excess heat once they're out of the wind and snow. We wouldn't be able to share that heat as well if we walled them off."

  "There could be a heat exchange system. Air vents. Something like that, though. Right?"

  "Hmm. That would cost the company extra." His smile stayed, but the lines around his eyes deepened. "And we can't have that."

  There might have been a bitter hint in those words, which made no sense. Petey had volunteered to be here. He could leave any time if he thought things were hinky. Not that Sofia cared one way or the other, of course.

  "Besides." Petey's smile perked up again. "The bubbies wouldn't like being separated from us, poor dears."

  Bunch of lunatics. All of them.

  Sofia managed not to say that out loud and congratulated herself on her self-restraint.

  Chapter Three

  "Okay, so you want me to do the harnesses for the non-ridey ones on my own? Is that it?" Sofia clutched the first harness of the morning to her chest and stared at Marta in wary disbelief.

  Marta gave a single, sure nod.

  "That's just…great." Sofia glared at the harness and spread it out on the floor next to one of the reclining beasts to figure out which way was up. She'd helped with these, sure, and had watched it done several times now. But she felt like she was being set up to fail—not a good feeling at all.

  She snuck a quick glance over. Marta still stood there like an ice sculpture. The little eco-terrorist wanted to watch every moment of the failing. All right. Better get started with the failing, or we'll never get the monsters ready.

  Holding the two short straps—hoping it was the right way 'round—Sofia lifted the harness so she
could heave it over the beast's back. As she stood on tiptoe, something wet brushed the back of her hand, and she leaped back, shrieking. The beast had moved, had turned its enormous head and touched her. It was getting ready to eat her. What was she supposed to do? Run? Hit its nose? Play dead? No one had told her… Shitshitshit, I'm going to die!

  Something shot out and caught her arm, holding her fast. It took several seconds for her panicked brain to register that the something was a hand, attached to Marta. Heat and strength suffused her grip, immovable steel in those small fingers.

  "Shh. Stand still," Marta whispered. "Shh."

  Sofia froze, trembling, unable to dredge up a single sentient thought as that enormous head drew closer. Nothing but reptile hindbrain remained, screaming, Run! Run! Run! The chionisaur turned its whole body for a better angle. Instead of backing up a step, Marta tightened her grip and thrust Sofia's arm toward the beast's maw.

  Embarrassing whimpers escaped Sofia. She tried to scuttle backward, but Marta's hold was too strong. The chionisaur opened its terrible, sharp-toothed mouth. It leaned in, hot breath assaulting Sofia. Maybe it would just take the hand. That was survivable, wasn't it? Another inch closer and…

  It stuck out its rough, blue tongue and licked her.

  Tasting me. Must be. But no teeth closed over her forcibly outstretched hand. The chionisaur licked her again, then snuffled at her palm with growling whuffs.

  "I'd wondered."

  In her confused state, it took several moments for Sofia to figure out that the voice was Marta's. Speaking to her. The chionisaur rubbed its cheek against Sofia's hand.

  "Wh—what did you wonder?"

  "She's been watching you since you started helping." Marta's chuckle was warm and throaty, not at all what Sofia would've imagined from someone she'd thought of as made of stone. "She's decided you're hers."

  "Hers? As in for breakfast?"

  Marta's scoffing sound rivaled Sofia's own mother. "No. Pet her."

  "What? Wait… Why are you talking to me?"

  "Because one of the bubbies picked you." Marta's sigh was all put-upon exasperation. "No idea why one would want to, but you can't predict it. Now talk to her. Moon's waiting for pets."

  Moon? Oh. Yes. The non-ridey bubb—chionisaurs—were Moon, Sky, and Star. Figures the smallest, oddest one with the scar through her left eye would choose Sofia. Whatever choosing meant. Marta let go of her when she reached out tentatively to the beast. Moon let out a weird rumbling warble as she took a step closer, her hesitancy obvious.

  "Okay, so this isn't easy for either of us. Steady. Steady."

  Probably any words would do, but that’s what one said to a skittish animal, right? The short feather-fur around Moon's nose was shockingly soft and Moon pressed against her hand, burbling. It was like petting micro synth-silk, the kind in the most expensive sheets. Sofia stroked slowly back toward the top of Moon's head. The feather-fur grew coarser, but only in the sense that powdered cocoa was coarser than powdered sugar. Was Moon purring?

  "It's layered."

  Sofia startled. She'd forgotten Marta was there. "The purring?"

  "No, their coats." The sound Marta made might've been a strangled snicker. "A lot of cold-climate Earth animals had two layers—guard coats and undercoats for insulation. Temperature regulation. The chionisaurs have four. It's softer around the face, since they have extra sense receptors along the cheek ridges that need to be able to feel vibrations in the air."

  "Oh." Apparently Marta wasn't just speaking to her, but had decided it was time for Chionisaur 101. Sofia cleared her throat uncertainly as Moon pushed against her hands for more petting. "My uncle had one of those dogs, the ones that look like old Earth wolves. It's undercoat shed… shedded? A lot when it was warmer."

  Marta had picked up the discarded harness, twisting it in her fingers. "We don't get warmer here to speak of. There's a season with more light and one with less. As far as shedding? The bubbies shed constantly. That's one of Tre's jobs, to sweep up the sheddings and get them into storage before we leave a shelter."

  It occurred to Sofia that the eco-terrorist didn't sound at all as she'd thought an eco-terrorist should sound. She'd expected brash, laconic, liberal cursing. Like a pirate, maybe, but with better diction. No, Marta sounded like she'd come from an Old Colonies family and had probably gone to some expensive liberal arts school in the Ceti cluster.

  "Why would you store it? Does it go into the heating system?"

  "You never had much of a practical education, did you?"

  Sofia chose to ignore the weary edge to the question. "Accounting's very practical."

  "In its own way, yes. No, the heating system is high-density-storage solar. We don't burn things for warmth. The coat shed is for lining boots, coats, sleeping pods—that sort of thing. You'd be a frostbitten mess out there if you weren't wearing chionisaur-lined outerwear."

  Sofia glanced down at her boots and wondered if the chionisaurs had ever been hunted for their pelts. With Moon butting at her gently, it wasn't a happy thought.

  "Hecky!" Marta called over. "See if there's an extra saddle in storage?"

  A skidding squeak indicated Hecky stopping whatever headlong charge she'd been on and changing direction.

  Saddles. Right. They needed to get the saddles on, or Shara was going to start yelling. "Is something wrong with one of them?"

  "One of whom?"

  "The saddles. Why do we need an extra?"

  One of Marta's eyebrows climbed her forehead. "For you. To ride Moon."

  "By myself?" Sofia cringed as the last word echoed through the hangar. Moon flinched back, eyeing her critically, but she didn't go far and within moments was back with a head butt that nearly knocked Sofia over.

  "Yes. Keep your voice down, for cosmos' sake. Moon chose you. If we try to put you on any of the others, she'll be disruptive. You have the hang of staying on, and she'll just follow the rest of the pack."

  Sofia shivered. Could she do this? She supposed she could, if someone helped her get on. Clinging to the harness. Just like before, except with no judgmental back sitting in front of her. Her voice a tiny squeak, she managed, "Okay."

  Dust in her hair and even on her eyelashes, Hecky careened around the lounging chionisaurs with a spare saddle harness and helped Sofia saddle her new steed. With the three of them working together for once instead of at cross-purposes, they had the mounts ready before Shara was finished her inventory and bellowing for Lanel to open the doors.

  "Time to go." Marta patted Sofia’s arm stiffly, awkwardly, as if human social contact was something she'd learned about from a newstainment clip. "You'll manage."

  With that, she swung herself up on Snowglider and urged her into line behind Fiero's chionisaur, leaving Sofia and Moon staring at each other.

  "I have to get on now," she said to the beast, feeling as if she should say something. It could've been something more intelligent, of course.

  Moon rumbled at her and pushed Sofia with her nose toward the climbing harness.

  "Don't rush me. I'm working on it."

  She patted the enormous, soft nose before she pulled her gloves on and tried to reach for the knobs. Her back still hurt, everything hurt, so her reach didn't quite…reach. Moon making squeak-rumble sounds at her and prodding with her nose didn't help.

  "Look. Moon. I can't. I have to go get a chair or something."

  In response, Moon flopped flat on the floor and rolled toward Sofia. She eeped, certain the beast would roll over and crush her. But no. Moon stopped at what had to be an awkward angle for her, with the knobs well within Sofia's reach. She blinked once, twice. Moon was trying to help? Were they trained to do that? Was it coincidence that Moon had rolled that way? Or was Moon really that smart? The last question was the scariest.

  Still, Sofia supposed she better take what help she could. As soon as she had hold of two of the higher knobs and had found a foothold, Moon started a slow roll the other way until she was straight again, and S
ofia found herself magically within reach of the top. Fine. Not magically. Moon had done it. But close enough to magic.

  She flumped onto the top pad that served as a saddle and just had time to grab a strap before Moon started to lumber around in a slow semicircle to face the now-open door. Hurriedly, Sofia finished fastening her coat and pulling hood, face mask, and goggles into place, balancing precariously as Moon got in line behind Petey's chionisaur and in front of the last non-ridden ones—Sky or Star, she couldn't tell.

  Most of the chionisaurs had names obviously given to them by their riders. Fiero's was Fang, which sounded properly warlike. Petey's was Hannibal, whom Sofia remembered vaguely as a name from Ancient Earth studies. Lanel's was Windsong, in keeping with his gentle nature. It would've been nice to ask who had named the cargo-hauling ones, but they were already moving out into the wind. Even Sofia couldn't get her voice to carry against the relentless gusts.

  Though Moon was a good name. She'd probably keep it instead of changing it to something more her. She'd had a teddy griffin named Moon when she was little, so that was perfectly— Dios, what the hell? She couldn't sit here and think about this as if she meant to stay here. What was wrong with her?

  "Moon. Your name is Moon. And I'm borrowing you until we can get back. That's it. Got it?"

  Her borrowed—definitely borrowed—chionisaur let out one of those tearing shuttle roars, which was then answered up and down the line. It could have been agreement, a roar of dissent, or the chionisaurs asking each other what they wanted for dinner.

  The day dragged by in swaying, uncomfortable boredom, aside from one close encounter with a sort of bird…thing that Moon scared off, and a terrifying moment when Moon stumbled and lurched, sending Sofia flying off into the snow. For a moment, she couldn't tell which way was up and panicked, certain that she would drown in the snowdrift or bank or whatever it was.