Crashmas by SecondGuess

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In the winter we will find a campsite

Set up tents and learn to call it home,

And when it snows and we’re surrounded in white

I bet that we’ll all miss the Biodome.

Dinner rations

We’ll acquire

As we meet ‘round the fire

To face unafraid, the route to be laid

Trekking on to New Pacifica.

--The Martin Classic Crashmas Carols Library

Danziger, John

Solo Advance Scout #42

Day 6

The thing about the desert is it’s too shankin’ quiet. Back at camp, all I ever wanted was some peace and quiet to hear myself think. Hell, I used to lie under the ‘Rail sometimes with nuthin’ to fix, just so everyone would leave me alone.

'Specially you.

Now that’s pretty much all I’ve got. Quiet. And a crate that seems to get heavier every time I put one foot in front of the other. I guess it really is possible to get too much of a good thing. Never thought I’d have to worry about that before. Figures.

It’s worst at night. I was startin’ to feel like Martin, jumping at every little rustle and bump in the night, but travelin’ straight through helps. I know you’d kill me for doing something so dangerous, but as far as I can see I’m the only livin’ thing out here, and it’s much cooler travelin' after the sun has set. Besides, my stupid decisions don’t seem so foolish with out you to remind me that I’m a moron.

Too damn much of a good thing, Adair.

So draggin’ this cargo back to camp by myself is the latest in a long line of piss poor decisions I’ve made since settin’ foot on this rock. I figure it falls somewhere between leavin’ a camp where they’d rather have parties than eat next week and that time we went looking’ for water, when I kept refillin’ your canteen with mine when you weren’t lookin’. Never told you about that, but I guess I’m tellin’ you now. As always, Stupid lives to tell the tale.

Should be me, in that CryoSleep tube. Just like it should be me up there in that Neuro Support Unit. Lived my whole life bein’ expendable.

But here I am, trudgin’ away. Makin’ bonehead decisions.

I keep remindin’ myself not to push to hard, I’m eatin’ and sleepin’ as best I can, but there’s some sick and twisted part of me that actually thinks he can make it back to base camp in time for this damn holiday. I have to remind myself that I don’t really want to; that the last thing I need right now is some silly distraction. Luckily, my back’s been doing plenty of complainin’ that I’m not as young as I used to be. Keeps me from thinkin’ about that kid of yours, and how I promised him I’d make it back in time.

I don’t know how they’re doin’ it, to tell the truth. I know I’m too much of a cynic. I don’t pride myself on that, but I figure Eden Advance needs someone lookin’ for problems before they happen. I was countin’ on Julia to keep everyone under control while I was gone, but even she’s head over heels for this Crashmas nonsense! I guess there’s no talkin’ sense into any of ’em.

Tell me how you did it, Adair. How you could always smile and have such high hopes for our future on this planet? How you brought out the best in every member of the group, even Martin? Tell me why you had such faith that I could do this in your stead.

A distant howl far to the south startled Danziger out of his reverie, and he stopped short, holding his breath, listening for any hint that the creature was coming closer. There was nothing, only the low moaning of the wind as it whipped across the barren landscape.

Shrugging against the cold and adjusting the straps of his makeshift harness, and strode forward again, the Luma Light hanging from his belt casting drunken shadows as it bobbed against his hip. He couldn’t be sure why the dark was bothering him so much, whether he was going soft or if it was the fact that-- forty miles to the east-- his daughter and his friends where wrapped in the soft glow of the firelight, warm and unafraid.

Raising a hand to his temple, he turned on his Gear, the echo of his own voice unsettling in the stillness.

“You still awake, True-Girl?” He asked the void of darkness, his self-consciousness heightened.

“Am I gonna get in trouble if I say yes?” She responded in a near whisper. Just as Danziger had suspected, since the sun had set he’d managed to lose track of time. Flipping open his compass, he could see that it was definitely past her bed time.

“Naah. It’s not like we’re packin’ up camp first thing in the mornin.’ Can’t sleep, huh?” He rubbed his eyes, physically exhausted despite the apprehension coursing through his system. It was just the wind. He was alone and everyone back at camp, including his insomniac daughter, was nestled all snug in their beds.

“Not really. It’s too quiet in here, Daddy. It’s making me feel lonely.” She admitted in a small voice.

“Why don’t you move your bunk in with Yale and Uly, Sweetheart?” He asked gently, his heart weighed down with an anchor of guilt over leaving his daughter alone for so long.

He’d tried to insist that she do so anyway, not liking the idea of her sleeping without someone to watch over her, but True had put up such a fight he’d finally conceded; with Yale and Bess’ assurance that they would make sure she kept the bunk in order and didn’t spend all night playing in VR. He’d also cornered each and every crew member and extracted solemn vows all around that whomever was on night watch would peek into the Danziger tent every hour during rounds.

With so much talk of Eden Advance’s godforsaken Crashmas celebration, he realized it had also been nearly a year since Gaal has made a vie for his daughters affections. So much had changed since those first few harried weeks planet side, and yet they still plagued his thoughts every second he was away. The slightest wisp of those memories-- True spouting Gaal’s lies as though they were gospel truth, sneaking off from under his nose, falling from a galloping horse-- still chilled him to the bone.

As if night in the desert wasn’t already cold enough.

“Dad, I told you, I’m not a baby. Besides, Uly mumbles so loud in his sleep he’s almost as annoying as when he’s awake.”

Danziger snorted. His daughter was in one of her moods.

“Besides, I’m just not sleepy. And when I am, I’ll sleep like a baby without you snoring.”

Coughing on a gust of grit, John took up arms for the unending battle waging between father and daughter. Since the very first night they’d landed on G889, the Danzigers had been sparring over whether or not he snored. It had become an argument fought so hard, and so often, that the rest of Eden Advance had begun to take sides. He was pretty damn sure True was winning.

“I do not snore, True-Girl! How do you know it’s not you snorin’ anyhow?”

In Danziger’s ear, the affronted snort was so loud it made his nose itch.

“Um, when I wake up it doesn‘t stop, Dad! And if you’re not awake, and I am, then it’s clearly you!”

Usually when his daughter picked this particular quarrel, Danziger knew it was because she was mad about something else he’d done to upset her. He figured he’d better just play along like he always did, and she’d come ’round to what the real problem was before long. Besides, he was the first to admit that the “Ways Daddy Pisses Me Off” list was probably a mile long, lately.

“Could be snorin’ from another tent. Lonz is a fog horn--”

“It was you!”

“Could be that Koba of yours, he looks like a snor--”

“Daddy, it wasn’t Kyle, it was YOU!! Why are you always so stubborn!”

Danziger pursed his lips, growling a bit at True’s livid outburst. He didn’t mind if she was upset, especially if he was to blame, but he didn’t like her tone one bit. They should be able to talk about this just like they did everything else.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” He asked gently, resisting the urge to flip his vid piece into place. He just couldn’t stand to see her cry, not when he was too far away to wipe her cheek, and he could hear the tremor of tears beneath her anger.

“I wish it was tomorrow and that you were here. Even if you do snore, you’ve been gone for too long, Daddy.”

Danziger bit his lip, widening each stride, taking less time to recover after each pull of the rope. He felt like a criminal letting his daughter go on believing that he’d be home on time, so the physical labor seemed fitting, somehow. He was getting closer, at least. He only had about thirty-five clicks to go, but the distance seemed insurmountable when he suddenly felt so alone.

“I know, Baby. I miss you, too. I promise when I get back, no more solo scouts, okay? I’ll stay put, Honest Aces. And I’ll get us back on the road, too, I swear. I’ll think of somethin.’” He cleared his throat, desperate for his words to be true. “I’ll figure it out.”

True seemed to soften, sensing her father’s turmoil. Danziger always hoped, but rarely assumed, that she understood why he left her behind at times like this. The reasons he abandoned her to sit and worry, while he starved to death or froze to death or got a shankin’ worm bullet stuck in his gut. He knew it wasn’t right, but sometimes it had to be done. It wasn’t fair to the kids by a long shot, though. Especially when he was currently the only…parent.

“I know you will, Dad. You’re the smartest person in the world.” Danziger smiled whistfully at his daughter’s candor. God, he loved her. “And I don’t mean to be grouchy, but I just wish you were back here, and then I could sleep because the next day would be Crashmas. It won't be Crashmas without you, Daddy.”

Sighing in defeat, Danziger flipped his vid piece into position, his puffs of breath in the cold night air fogged the image of his daughter, who had apparently been wearing her vid piece all along. It was dark in their tent, but True’s hair glowed like a halo, illuminated by a far off Luma Light.

“True-Girl…” He began, his voice barely a whisper, his stomach wrenched with hunger and longing.

“Are you still walking, Dad?” She asked with surprise. Danziger nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Heaving another foot forward, he cleared his throat again, another nervous habit courtesy of the godforsaken wind.

“Just makin’ up for a little lost time.” He bluffed, tossing the comment aside, hoping to drop the matter now that he’d lost his nerve. There was still time; there was still a chance he could make it.

“You really don’t like Crashmas, do ya, Dad?” True’s soft inquiry pushed him out of the frying pan and into the fire. Despite his desire to allay his daughter’s apprehension, Danziger just didn’t have the energy to have this conversation again. “Why does it bug you so much? You should be happy, Daddy, Crashmas is making everyone else so happy!”

The pleading in her eyes reminded John of her mother, trapped outside the airlock; of Uly when Danziger had gotten down on one knee and told him it was time to keep moving; of Devon asking him to promise he’d take care of her kid.

“True, Baby,” clearing his throat for a third time, Danziger found it impossible to dislodge the lump in his throat. He cold only hope there was a way for her to grasp the grown-up feelings that were plaguing him. “Know when you said that it wouldn’t be Crashmas without me?”

Furrowing her brows, True nodded in silent affirmation.

“Well, I know exactly how you feel, Sweetie. You're right. It won’t feel like Crashmas unless the whole group is together, and I…” His words faded off, his parched throat catching on the words and eleven year old just wouldn’t understand. John's eyes watered, fixed on the uneven ground as it passed beneath his feet.

“It’s okay, Dad,” True whispered tenderly. When he looked up to meet her gaze, Danziger discovered that maybe his daughter was aware of more than she’d been letting on. “Everyone misses Devon, and everyone is sad that she’d not here with us, even if they’re pretending their not."

Despite his yearning for honesty between he and True, the hardened cynic in Danziger demanded to be let out, to deny that Devon Adair had such power to affect him. Swallowing hard, he couldn't decide if True was referring to the group this past week, or her Old Man, who'd been trying his best to feign denial for the last three months. Before he found the nerve to ask, True continued.

"But that’s part of what makes Crashmas so special! Like when Uly says you can’t change something that already happened, but this time we can. 'Cause when the families at New Pacifica celebrate Crashmas, they’ll celebrate the first time, when we celebrated for Devon, and the Second Crashmas, when she came home! So it turns out you were right, we will be able to change what happened. But you're still a big part of it.”

Danziger felt a single tear escape from the corner of his eye at the optimism in his daughters words, and at the thought of the return of the woman who she’d learned it from.

“True…" He didn't like the tremor in his gravelly voice one bit, "it could be a long while before--”

“Listen, Mister,” she cut him off quickly. “Daddy,” she spoke calmly, “I’m gonna tell it like it is, okay? Because I know you feel crummy now, but you’ve got no reason to, cause this is what’s going to happen. Can I proceed?”

Danziger was impressed at the negotiation skills she’d no doubt picked up in Yale’s classroom, if not slightly dismayed that his daughter was about to read him the riot act.

“Fire away,” he allowed with trepidation.

“Okay, you’re gonna come home and stay here, cause you called honest aces, and you’re gonna tinker around for a little bit and storm around camp thinking, and thinking and snoring and then thinking some more, and one day you’re brain’s gonna do that thing when it hiccups and you come up with the perfect solution to get us moving again. You with me so far?”

“Affirmative," he replied weakly.

“And then more time’s gonna pass and Alonzo’s probably gonna break his leg a couple more times and bad stuff will happen, and good stuff will happen, and then one day Julia’s brain is gonna do that same hiccup thingy and she’s gonna figure out how we can wake Devon up.” The strained expression on her father’s face made it clear that even though he wasn’t able to respond, he was getting the picture. “I know sometimes you think you can’t figure it out, Dad, but you always do. You always save us, Daddy, okay?”

“Okay, Baby.” Danziger whispered, the desert stretching out in front of him. He figured it was a good, clear night to walk under the stars.

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