Tevun-Krus #87 - SnowPunk

Outpost - A Short Story by @jinnis

Outpost

By jinnis

The wind howled around the dome and sang its eerie tune in the ventilation shaft. Burt sipped at his synthesised coffee and glanced from his reader to the surveillance screens. Of course, they were empty—as usual. His lonesome outpost at the edge of human-controlled space was surrounded by nothing but sterile, snow-covered plains, the fierce weather and freezing cold.

That was how he liked it. His hatred for crowds led him from the overpopulated Terran cities to the space corps at a young age. To his horror, the living conditions on the explorer ships turned out as bad, with small crews crammed together for year-long missions in vast ships with tiny living modules. He survived, but he never enjoyed it, at least not the parts where other human beings were involved. By the time he counted as a veteran of the space ways, he still craved nothing as much as solitude.

So, he jumped on the chance for this solo mission. A "graveyard" mission, in the corps's jargon. Chances he would return to Earth or even to one of the remoter outposts were close to nil, at least not while anyone he'd known would be alive. Burt couldn't care less.

His gaze wandered one more time over the survey screens. To the north, a bank of heavy clouds rolled in. They would reach the dome within the hour and carried a new load of heavy snow. He'd probably need to free the sensors afterwards. This time of the year, they got clogged with sleet and ice fast. Sure, earlier or later a fierce westerly would clear them, or he could send a bot to do it. "But it won't hurt my old bones to go for a walk, right, Alexa?"

"As you wish, Burt. What about a game of chess beforehand?"

"Sure, set up the board. I'm right back." He paid the bathroom and kitchen unit a visit, returning with a refilled cup. "Now I'm ready. Black or white?"

"Let me see. You won last time, so I'll have white."

"Fine for me, go ahead, Alexa." He smiled while the AI opened with a classic move. Alexa, named after her primitive historic ancestor, was a worthy opponent, capable of inventive moves and surprising twists—playing against her never got boring. Or perhaps she just wanted to make him happy? If she did, she never admitted to her motivation.

Sometimes he wondered if she would miss him and their chess games if he were gone, but he never asked her. His self-contained living dome would keep him alive and happy as long as he desired to live and didn't develop a fatal illness. It was comforting to know Alexa would take over for another eternity when he expired.

Burt moved a pawn, and she countered with a knight. A smile played around his lips. Knights were her soft spot. He reached for his tower when a movement on the screen caught his attention. "What was that?"

"Unidentified object in sector four, distance 5K."

"That's on the central ridge of the Turtleback glacier." He stared at the screen. A dark purple blob sat where, moments ago, an undisturbed plain stretched into the distance.

"Correct."

"The terrain out there is riddled with crevasses." Burt rubbed his eyes. But the blob still sat there, smack on the glacier. "Besides, how could it approach without triggering our orbit guard?"

"I don't know. It still doesn't register on any of our sensors except the visuals."

"Can you zoom in, get a better picture?"

"Processing."

An icicle of fear pierced Burt's stomach. Or was this anticipation? Probably both, he decided. This moment was why he'd come out here, took upon himself to install the outpost and keep a lonely watch. This might well be what humankind had dreamed of, searched for, and still lived in fear of: the first alien contact.

"That's the best I can do."

The blurry picture showed a bigger blob, still purple, with a darker sideline and a glowing spot towards one end. The heat of an engine? "I'll have to go out and investigate."

"You can't, the storm will engulf us any minute." Alexa was right, of course. A powerful gust drove the first flakes across the screen, obscuring the sight of what he decided must be an alien spaceship.

The next two days were pure agony. A howling wind tore at the dome with its icy fangs until snow covered the complete structure and subdued any noise. Caught in his cosy cocoon, Burt didn't find his usual peace of mind. What if the aliens paid him a visit? Or blasted a hole into his bubble of life? Were they friends or foes? What brought them to this unfriendly planet at the edge of nowhere? Each question led to a new one, and he lay awake at night, waiting for a treacherous sound, a knock, anything.

When the storm abated, the foreign blob was gone. "Must be covered by snow," Burt rubbed his stubbly chin while he studied the screens.

"On the glacier, I can't detect the accumulation of additional snow. The velocity of the wind was high enough to carry loose matter away." Alexa's voice sounded smug—or callous?

He shrugged and prepared his exploration craft. It wasn't built for great heights but could skim the surface without getting in trouble with icefalls and crevasses. To check the landing site would only take a few hours, and he had to see for himself. He donned his seldom-used insulation suit, said goodbye to Alexa, and approached the spot where he'd last seen the blob in a sweeping arc, aware he risked being attacked by the visitors.

But the ship was gone. Burt hovered over the ice shield, turned his craft into a 360-degree loop, and shaded his eyes with a heavy mitt. There was nothing. No tracks. No purple blob. Just the pristine snow.

He knew about hallucinations and mirages, simple tricks of the light. They were common after storms. Still, this had been different. "Alexa, can you recheck my coordinates, please?"

"You're spot on, Burt." Confirmation of what he'd known all along. The aliens were gone.

He shrugged and turned his craft back to the dome and Alexa, to another cup of steaming coffee and a game of chess. Warmth and welcome familiarity. Should he send a report to Earth, an observation message, and a few blurry pictures? The transmission would take forever to reach human space, and they'd probably think he'd gone off his rocker, another victim of space solitude.

He parked the explorer in the hangar, shed his protection gear in the lock, and passed the hatch to the living dome.

"Welcome back, Burt." Was that relief in Alexa's voice? Or indifference? He thought about the merciless nature outside, of the endless emptiness of space.

For the first time on this one-way mission, Burt felt alone.