"Hang on, it's gonna roll!"
The reaver wagon took the full impact of the avalanche against its flank and tilted up on three of its six wheels. Thunder shook the cold cabin and a cloud of snow and ice particles blotted out the wan sun. Artur fought with the controls and for a moment it seemed as if the old wagon were sending every outrage its operators had ever forced it to endure back up the control yolk. In the seat next to Artur, Ebb Reilly clung to the armrests of his battered nav chair. Somewhere from the haze that served as memory a prayer was summoned.
"Big slide! Big one!" Artur yelled. Not panicked, Artur was too dumb to panic, Ebb reasoned. No, Artur was excited. Typical. The whole damn mountain was dropping on them and Artur thought it was another adventure. Ebb gripped his chair so hard he thought his knuckles might burst in the freezing air.
Ebb felt a sickening lurch as the wagon collided with something more solid than rampaging snow. The world seemed to jerk ninety degrees and his eyes saw a thin gash of light form beyond the windscreen. Through this narrow window he saw that they were being pulled quickly and inexorably through a plummeting fog of gauzy snow. Beyond lay a steep rocky drop and the strange sun-lit calm of a distant valley. Ebb saw all this in the flash of a millisecond and realized he was an unwilling passenger on Nature's Worst Roller-Coaster.
Artur obviously saw the same thing and summoned something between a war-whoop and a rebel yell. Ebb squeezed his eyes shut. The thought of the roller coasters of long-lost Earth produced the incongruous sensation of cotton candy melting in his mouth. Millimeters beyond the cabin's thin ceramic shell the planet men had called Merlin roared its cold displeasure.
Ebb wasn’t sure exactly when he knew that It was all over. The bellowing in his ears, some combination of avalanche and Artur, eventually ended. Long moments passed in which he was suspended in pensive silence. Then a clanging noise startled him and he opened his eyes. Artur undogged the overhead hatch. Ebb cried out. The windscreen showed only midnight. They could be under a hundred meters of snow and ice. Trapped until the air ran out. Artur struggled with the hatch, twisted his shoulder against the composite frame, and braced his thick boots on the stained engine cover that sat between the driver and nav positions. The big man’s mass squeezed Ebb closer to the passenger’s hatch. Artur pushed and grunted. Ebb was about to tell his companion to give it up when Artur gave one final chuff and shoved the hatch open.
Powdery snow and blinding light fell into the cabin. It was quickly followed by the bite of Merlin’s bitter air. Minus twenty centigrade was a balmy day here in the tropics. Ebb winced and switched his helm to minimal flux. He plucked his gloves from the vest of his thermsuit and sealed them over his hands. Artur twisted and pulled himself onto the wagon’s roof. Then there came a whoop and a muffled thud.
"I hope you don’t expect me to dig you out!” Ebb yelled and then cursed himself for a fool. Just their luck if he started another slide.
Ebb struggled out onto the wagon’s roof. The big vehicle had come to rest between the walls of a ravine. Wedged tight. The monocular in his helm showed Ebb the rest. Above and several kilometers behind lay the steep mountain pass they had attempted to cross. The avalanche had pushed them over a flat that under better circumstances would have been an alpine meadow. Then snow and debris and wagon had all dropped down a steep field of scree. That field now lay buried under uncountable tonnes of snow and ice. The heavy snow had settled in flow shaped layers from the top of the pass down into this canyon. The wagon had ridden near the crest of the avalanche. Somehow, it had surfed its way through the flow’s terminal velocity zone and eventually settled here as the slide lost momentum. If they had been hit anywhere else along the pass they would have been entombed in the snow. Ebb felt a growing chill and sealed the neck of his thermsuit.
“Look’s fine, look’s fine.”
Ebb glanced down. Artur waded through waist deep powder as he checked the condition of the wagon. The wagon was twenty meters in length and five meters wide and it took the big man several minutes to make the circuit. Ebb walked along the roof and checked com gear and sensor arrays. They had lost their spider dish for microsat links and one of the many whip antennae. Overall though, the hardware had made it through the fall. When Artur climbed back up he reported much the same. And one other item.
“Tube trees.”
“Huh?” Ebb turned in the direction the big man had pointed.
“Tube trees, see.” Artur said. And then with a grunt he was off the roof and back down in the snow. He quickly headed over the top of the ravine and toward the canyon beyond.
“Hey, wait! Wait!” Ebb called. But Artur pressed ahead as if he hadn’t heard him and Ebb, despite his better judgment, decided to follow.
At first Ebb struggled to make his own path through the fluff but then opted to follow in Artur’s wake. It made the going easier and Ebb could concentrate on his luck at being partnered with yet another genius. Of course, if you read the Project bios they were all geniuses. Two hundred settlers sent out from Earth to set up a new home on Alpha Centauri II. But Merlin’s spell was a dangerous one and the trip to the odd little world in its strange retrograde orbit around the Sun-like star was not without hazards. The crossing took a full fifty years at zero point one c. Mighty Lancelot’s engines worked perfectly but its hibernaculum less so. A full tenth of their complement did not survive the passage. The rest suffered varying degrees of hibernation loss. Artur had been one of the ship’s designers. Now he was little more than an excitable six year old boy with a love of new places and the tales of, appropriately enough, King Arthur.
Ebb couldn’t remember what exactly he had been. Logistician. Whatever the hell that was. It made him angry to try to remember what he had once been. In fact, lots of things made him angry these days. Ebb frowned into the cold air. Thinking was for the smartie AIs back at Warrick, a thousand kilometers from here. They told them what to do and how to do it. Like take a reaver and drive way the hell out here and put a tent over this canyon so the mekks could start a farm. And chase King Arthur on another of his damn fool quests.
Artur had struggled through a wall of snow and slid down a low sloping wall into the canyon. Ebb heard excited laughter and shouts and doggedly followed. A moment later he stumbled down the slope and stood next to Artur who was wildly gesticulating at the varied shapes of several hundred tube trees. They looked like land-locked pipe coral and were as gray and white as the surrounding landscape. Their stems reared at crazed angles into the sky. Some stood no taller than a man, others loomed several stories. The biggest gave the impression that they had been there a long, long time.
“Ever seen so many, Ebb?” Artur cried.
Ebb snorted. “No. Not this many. Our mekks will be a month pulling them out.”
Artur blinked. “Pull them out?”
“Sure. Can’t leave these here for the tent farm. Mekks will have no where to plant. And the AIs want to get half of the colony away from the Ice Sea.”
“But there are so many. They never grow like this. They must like it here.”
“Too bad. The mekks will pull them.”
“Long time, for the mekks.”
“Sure, and if we don’t deploy them soon we’ll be stuck out here and miss Yule.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t wanna miss Yule, do you?”
Artur shifted and looked uncomfortable. “I like Yule. But I like tube trees, too. Bad Christmas for the tube trees.”
“No Christmas if we don’t get to work.” Ebb turned and headed back toward the reaver wagon. Behind him Artur reached out and stroked a knobby, iron-hard branch. A curious look crossed his face. Enchantment.
They worked steadily for the next few days freeing the wagon and setting up a camp down in the canyon. Artur tried to talk Ebb into saving the tube trees but Ebb would have nothing to do with it. Orders were orders. Artur attempted to talk their boss, an AI that called itself Dapper Fournier, into moving the tent farm to a nearby canyon. Dapper would have none of it and Ebb smirked an I-told-you-so.
And so the day came when the mekks were released. Half climbed the canyon walls and began molding pinions and caissons in preparation for the tent. The rest moved greedily toward the tube trees. Ebb monitored the activity from a portable hut atop the wagon. High overhead, the ruddy flare that was Alpha Centauri B grew steadily brighter in the deep blue sky. Every eighty years or so the binary stars Alpha Centauri A and Alpha Centauri B came within several billion kilometers of one another, which was roughly the distance that Saturn orbits the Sun. The planet Merlin had experienced this passage since time immemorial. However, this would be the first close approach since the arrival of the humans.
The approaching star fascinated Ebb. It was one of the few things he didn’t curse about. And he wasn’t the only one who was interested. Comm and microsat links were limited these days because the AIs had drafted anything with a sensor into observing the nearby companion star.
Merlin rotated slower than Earth and days lasted twenty-seven hours. Night fell slowly. The sun eventually slid behind canyon walls and Alpha Centauri B soon followed. The large moon Mordred rose above the mountains to the east and cast the world in silver shades. Artur trudged heavily through the snow and climbed into the wagon’s living quarters. He sat heavily down on the bench in the galley. Ebb could see his companion was hang-dog and suspected why. The damned tube trees.
“Dinner?” Ebb offered. He pulled a pair of food paks from storage and pressed their heater tabs. Warm platters soon appeared on the little table and Ebb sat down opposite Artur. Ebb pulled a fork from a cubby and began to work on his dinner. Artur ignored his.
“Two more days and we head back to Warrick,” Ebb offered.
Artur shrugged.
“Yule will be in full swing.”
Artur picked up a fork and rolled its shaft between thumb and forefinger.
“Lots of parties. Lots of presents.”
Artur poked a carrot cube. “Shame,” he whispered. “King Arthur…”
Ebb blinked. “What?”
“Shame, shame, eternal shame, nothing but shame.”
Ebb blinked. Once. Twice. And then he laughed. “That’s not from King Arthur!”
“But he would have said it.”
“About those damned trees?”
“Sure.”
Ebb sighed, exasperated. “No one cares, Artur. No one. Those tube trees are as frozen as ice. They might be fossils for all we know. Better to replace them with something that’s alive.”
“Merlin’s trees.”
“Merlin is a dead cold planet. It hates life. It has a good atmosphere but nothing thrives on the land and only algae and micro-krill live in the frozen sea. Even with a sun that shines half again as bright as Earth’s sun, Merlin stays cold. It’s a crazy place and we’re the only good here. Tube trees, moss, and insects are all we ever find.”
“Moss, bugs, tube trees. That’s life.”
“That’s pathetic! Just like you wanting to save the damned tube trees! What are they? What are they worth? Nothing!”
Artur blinked back tears. He got up and shambled toward his bunk, fell in, and pulled the curtain shut. Ebb watched him angrily.
Ebb wolfed down his dinner in a heated silence. Then he took a bottle of synth from a shelf and poured several fingers. After a few glasses Ebb felt sorry for Artur. After a few more he really didn’t care. He punched a radio to life and listened as a pair of AIs discussed the next day’s close approach with Alpha Centauri B. AIs never talked to one another vocally but put on little radio shows for the benefit of the slower humans. Tonight they sure seemed interested in that damned second sun. Crazy AIs. When the next program featured AIs singing Christmas carols Ebb switched the radio off and listened to the wind moan outside the cabin.
Ebb may have fallen asleep or just lost track of time but at some point in the evening he thought he heard a woman’s voice speaking. This startled him because since hibernation he had had these little episodes where he occasionally heard voices. This was different, however, as it was a voice not from his past but from his present. He soon realized that it was the contralto of Dapper Fournier. He rubbed his eyes and realized that the voice was coming from Artur’s bunk. Ebb stood and took a few steps toward the curtain. Was Artur still trying to convince their boss? The fool.
But when he was a meter from the curtain he stopped. Dapper was talking in an odd sing-song, like a mother reading her child a story. And Arthur gave his old friend Galahad a wonderful Christmas gift. But when Galahad saw what Arthur had given him he was dismayed! Sire, he asked, how is it that you expect this gift to bear fruit, when all around us lay the dead hand of winter…
Ebb slowly settled to the moon-stained deck. Sitting cross-legged, he fell asleep. The voice of an AI drifted through the cabin as it recited the Christmas Tales of King Arthur to a lost and weary human. Ebb dreamed of bright stars and warm blankets and a bowl full of cherries. Eventually he tipped back, landed heavily on his back, and awoke to Artur’s joyous shouts.
Ebb had the hatch half open before he remembered his thermsuit. He struggled into the garb and boots and then leaped out the door. A passing storm had dropped several centimeters of new snow onto the ground. Ebb followed Artur’s broken path around the side of the wagon and out onto the canyon floor. An instant later some combination of surprise and synth brought him to his knees.
The canyon lay draped in new snow. Where tube-trees once stood gray and dead the world was now transformed by the joyful shout of life. Upon every branch of every tube-tree there blossomed a diaphanous crimson orb. These were layered and fragile and multi-veined with a cluster of black nodules knotted upon their peaks. All of the orbs were aimed as if in greeting toward Alpha Centauri B, which burned like a warm coal above the eastern peaks.
Ebb felt a big hand clasp his shoulder and help him to his feet. Incredulous, Ebb turned to Artur and asked, “What are they?”
“Christmas cherries,” Artur replied matter-of-factly.
“Cherries?” Ebb didn’t understand.
Artur smiled. It was a big happy smile. He explained, “Like in the story. Sir Galahad visits his friend King Arthur on Christmas Eve. As a present, King Arthur gives poor old Sir Galahad a cherry tree to plant. But it’s the dead of winter and Galahad is disappointed. You see it is a very bad winter and Galahad is old and he thinks he won’t see the next spring. But Galahad is a loyal old knight and he plants it anyway. The next morning Galahad wakes up and the tree is full of cherries! Christmas cherries!”
Ebb stepped forward. His boot hit a thick branch of one of the tube trees a mekk had felled the day before. Aghast, he looked up at Artur.
Artur laughed. “Don’t worry. Talked to Dapper this morning. She’s very excited. Never thought the tube trees did this. Maybe the new star triggers this flowering once every eighty years. Anyway, she sent all the mekks over to the next canyon. No tube-trees over there.”
Ebb looked back at the canyon. It was as if Merlin had performed a miracle. The planet was alive, and maybe this was a sign it wished to share that life with them.
“If we start working the next canyon we won’t get back to Warrick for Yule,” Ebb said, hoping not to disappoint Artur.
Artur smiled. “Don’t worry. This is where I want to spend my Christmas.”
End
When he's not writing, R. Scott Russell runs a test lab where he is allowed to break things for a living. He is currently pursuing a master's degree in astronomy. He lives in Rochester, New York.
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