Crashmas by SecondGuess

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It came upon a Crashmas clear,

That glorious fire so warm,

To light the darkness, banish fear,

And keep us all from harm.

Peace on G889 this night,

Lit by our Guardian King,

Give thanks, survivors, and pave the way

Oh Jamestown, settlers bring!

---The Martin Classic Crashmas Carols Library

Danziger, John

Solo Advance Scout #42

Day 7

It feels like a Thursday night to me, Adair. Not that I’ve got the slightest clue what day it would be, if we were still usin’ the Station week plan, but this particular night-- and this downright eerie stretch of desert-- just feels like a Thursday, is all. So close to the weekend you can almost taste the beer, but miles to go before you sleep.

It’s not like I ever met a Drone that didn’t have a second weekend shift on some cargo hold countin’ crates, or watchin’ some blue-blood kid who’s parents couldn’t be bothered to take the family on their family vacation. But there’s just somethin’ about that hopefulness, that expectation of respite that you can’t shake.

Seems to me I’ve been a fool. I’ve been thinking’…this whole shankin’ Crashmas idea might just the thing to keep everyone goin.’ I’m wishin’ I hadn’t fought them so hard; been such a spoiled sport.

True’s gonna have my hide when I get back to camp. Unless my ticker gives out before I get back, haulin’ this pain-in-the-ass crate. Or unless the pain-in-the-ass crate happens to be full of cats, which seems unlikely.

I know we don’t have the supplies for this, or the time, or the energy, or a million other things. We’re in dire straits, and if I have to be a killjoy to keep us all alive, well, what else is new. I know you’d be grateful that I’m only thinkin’ of the longterm ramifications here.

Trouble is, I know you’d be just as excited about all this Crashmas nonsense as everyone else.

And to tell the truth, even I’m wishin’ I could be with ‘em all now, singin’ stupid songs and wearin’ that crooked crown your son made me. Instead I’m out here, bein’ stubborn and lettin’ the kids down. Feelin’ like it’s Thursday.

Danziger plodded along, shutting out every ache, pain and pang of loneliness to focus on one thing: he would make it back tonight, for True and for Uly.

He’d been away from camp only about a day longer than expected, but his constant travel these last two days meant his supplies were suffering. His rations were gone, which was the least of his problems. Danziger hadn’t lived a day of his life without the familiar, almost comforting gnawing of hunger in his gut, and he could certainly go a day or so more. He was out of water, too, but it didn’t worry him.

He was going to be back soon.

His first Luma Light was completely burnt out, and his back up was fading fast. Because he was constantly pilfering bits and pieces of circuitry, the group been reduced to only one generator to charge all of there renewable heating and lighting sources. If Danziger could’ve had his way, he would have brought a pocket genny with him, but the last one had been retrofitted to supply the ATV long ago. Lotta good it did them now.

As it was, his gear and the dwindling Luma Light desperately needed recharging. He hadn’t anticipated so much usage, that his daughter and Uly would be constantly buzzing him to share the Crashmas spirit. He hadn’t anticipated Crashmas at all. How could he?

Despite his normally flippant habit of keeping his gear powered down anyway, tonight of all nights he longed to check in with his daughter, to assure her he was on his way. The thing was pretty much useless, unfortunately, and had been since early morning. He’d switched it off to conserve the last gasp in case of an emergency.

His manual compass would be just fine, he figured. After his ill-fated winter scout last year, he’d taken to carrying it with him at all times, just in case. Danziger knew where he was going. He just wasn’t sure how much further he had to go. And walking in the dark did nothing for his nerves, or his morale.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he decided to stop for a moment and rest a spell. He took several deep breaths, rubbing his eyes before scanning the horizon.

The last thing Danziger expected to see was…well, anything. But strangely enough, he did.

He couldn’t get a good look at what he was seeing, it would flit in the corners of his vision, something on the horizon, an amber glow about a click, maybe a click and a half ahead. His visibility was shit, despite the twin half moons and the relatively clear sky, so he fished out his jumpers, cursing under his breath as he squinted at the function panel in the warbling flicker of the Luma Light. Finally, he gave up and just every button. None of ‘em worked, which meant even his damn BiNoc feature was out of juice. Danziger figured it couldn’t matter.

There was light somewhere up ahead, and that was where he was going. John wasn’t even gonna let himself hope the glow was coming from camp but, as he fitted the harness over his sore shoulders, he found no amount of reverse psychology could stop the second wind he was experiencing.

He trudged forward with a newfound strength that seemed impossible, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him. He was wary of losing his footing, or tripping over an obstacle obscured by the darkness, but more importantly he couldn’t bear to acknowledge how far he still had to go. A watched pot would never boil, Bess always said, and the horizon would never get any closer, no matter how long he watched..

He needed to distract himself from the passage of time, he needed to channel his energy on the task at hand and stop counting every footstep. But he was so damn tired, and he’d had so much time alone to think that he just couldn’t stand any more introspection.

Grimacing, not liking it one shankin’ bit, John Danziger did the one thing he could think of to pass these final, unbearable miles.

“Grendler yells, Grendler yells, wailin’ all night long…Oh how great to stay up late and listen to their song…”

Verse after verse, left foot after right foot, Danziger’s cracked and dry voice rang out across the desert. Any time he got the urge to pause and survey the horizon he’d steel himself and simply sing a little louder, until he trailed off to clear his throat against the dust and realized there was an echo singing back.

Stopping short, he held his breath and listened, and there it was again…only it wasn’t “Grendler Yells” at all, it was another song that True hadn’t taught him. He swallowed hard and tentatively raised his head, only to discover that the dim glow he’d spotted hours back had roared into a blazing bonfire, only about a half-mile ahead.

John couldn’t make out the members of Eden Advance, nor could he ever discern the shapes of the tents against the contrast of the blazing pyre, but with his stillness it became clear that the lone voice being carried on the wind was that of Uly.

And was singing his mother’s song.

Oh holy flight! Towards all mankind’s salvation

It is the flight of a strong woman’s dreams

Damning the slight of righteous indignation

She stole away from the Council’s cruel régimes.

With faithful crew, to cure her Syndrome child

Through space they flew, Until beyond repair!

Fall to the earth! Breathe deep the air so mild!

Oh flight divine, Oh flight of Devon Adair!

Led by the sights of her Pilot, brave and daring,

With tow ‘ring strength from her Guardian and his Scout

Her loyal Crew, Liaison overbearing

Her faithful Sage, Her Doctor’s hard-earned clout.

They traveled afar until they found the ocean,

On Shooting star, came the children to be healed!

Fall to the earth! Oh breathe the air so mild!

Oh flight divine, Oh flight of Devon Adair!

Oh flight divine, Oh flight of Devon Adair!

Blinking back the sting of tears, Danziger tugged with all his might, desperate to be with his friends, to sing and celebrate and eat and finally be home.

To hell with the rations, to hell with all of the worries and doubts and worst case scenarios that kept him from enjoying what he did have. He didn’t want to miss anymore than he already had! He wanted to be there when Bess lit the Lonely Tree; he wanted to plant one on Julia under the Thistletoe just to see the look on Lonz’ face! He wanted to sit by the warmth of the fire and laugh until it hurt at Walman’s Crashmas play, with True and Uly perched on each knee. John found himself grinning like a fool, musing that, years from now, children would lie awake in their beds, safe at New Pacifica, and listen for The Guardian to come bearing gifts. True was right; their journey was the story of Crashmas, and they’d better get it right.

And he’d made it home after all, just as she had insisted he would, and whatever was in the godforsaken crate would help them persevere, Danziger just knew it. They’d find a way to keep moving and they’d find something that grew here in this strange place that would nourish them..

And, most importantly, Danziger mused as he drew almost close enough to feel the radiant heat of the flames on his face, the would find a way to bring Devon back to them. For the first time, despite all his reassurances to the group and Ulysses, John Danziger actually believed in his heart that this was true.

Because it was Crashmas Eve. And despite all they lacked, John Danziger would see to it that Eden Advance never ran out of hope.

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