A Deep, Cold Breath — A Novelette

By Adam Stemple

When their transport crashes in the wilderness of the ice planet they work on, the few survivors left have to band together to survive. One man's secret past might hold the key to their survival. Or it just might be their demise.

 

Hard sci-fi with hard choices and dire results, A Deep, Cold Breath delivers hammer blows to the gut of fans of gritty, outer space action.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adam Stemple
• Release date: May 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393654148

Book preview

A Deep, Cold Breath

A Deep, Cold Breath

Adam Stemple

One light to live, another to die.

The transport hit the ice fast, flipping and twisting like a demented gymnast, the nose crumpling, the left wing tearing off. Impact knocked the wind out of Specialist Jakob Gypsy Juhasz and for a flash he thought the roaring sound was his breath leaving his body. But he quickly realized it was the scream of air rushing from the pressurized cabin out into the half-terraformed atmosphere of Kepler-1012d.

Fool, he thought. You're not going to die that easy.

Then the transport flipped again, and now men's shouts mixed with the screaming wind and tearing metal. Jakob's world went white.

Katalin sat on his lap, looking up at him with eyes far too serious for a four-year-old. Always Katalin. Never Kat or Kata or Katie. Her hands were tiny. Tiny, but perfect. She wrapped his long hair around and around her hand, weaving the smooth, coal locks through her tiny fingers. Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead. It was ice cold.

Jakob snapped back to consciousness, vision clearing but not all the way. Something warm and wet blocked his right eye, sparking childhood memories: blood stinging his eyes, chin tucked in, hands up trying to block pale fists flying at his face.

There were no fists now, just snow. He was still strapped into his seat, but instead of another seat-back in front of him, its pocket filled with ad flimsies and neuro packs to keep nervous fliers sedate, there was only white. White drifts, white sky, white horizon—he hadn't known there were so many shades of white.

His thoughts were as blank as the landscape, though some part of him realized that he'd been thrown clear of the crash.

Clear, he thought, grabbing at the word and squeezing it in his mind, trying to use it to get his thoughts in order. Clear. Clear and white. This far out it's like there's no other color in the world.

He'd never been this far from one of the steads on Kepler-1012d. He'd only gone out as far as the line runners and mech-techs. The bogmen would go out farther, but by the time they came to seed the waters, the world would be warmer and more colorful. And Jakob would be long gone.

One way or another, he thought.

With numb hands, Jakob wiped his right eye clear then smacked at the latch holding his safety harness in place. When it finally released, he rose creakily to his feet. He was a little dizzy, but knew it would clear up soon. His left knee felt strange as well, but it was holding his weight. The problem was the cold. He hadn't been wearing any protective gear. Hadn't even brought any. They'd been heading back to Main Stead for their government-mandated, bi-annual R and R. Most of the men would then hop a shuttle to one of many low-atmo, Peeko-run brothels to put their meager pay right back into their bosses' coffers. Jakob had planned to rent the cheapest hotel room he could find landside and see how many empty bottles he could pile on the nightstand. Now he wasn't sure whether he wanted a