December 19, 2036

At -43 ℃, the air itself seems to freeze. Nothing makes a sound. The sky is alive with starlight. Aula sniffles and feels all her nose hairs freeze. Her jacket is good down to -40 ℃ but tonight is pushing it. Any exposed skin has the moisture sucked out of it. She waits with her hands shoved into her pockets and looks down each lane of the highway. The luminescent road markings glow turquoise. They charge during daylight and shine at night. A pair of red tail lights fade into the darkness.

The gas station's door jingles when Sophia steps out. She carries a coffee in each hand.

"No milk," she says and hands one over. "What he had inside was half-way to cheese."

Aula takes a gulp and winces. It tastes like soap.

Sophia saunters around the truck and gets into the passenger side. It's like the old days. Aula takes another drink and gets into the driver's seat. The cab's still warm. She seats the coffee in the cupholder and then turns the ignition. Her old '34 Chevy rumbles to life. The heater comes on full blast and soon she's sweating underneath her jacket. She reaches for the centre of her chest. It's where the buckle would be if she were in a cockpit. She quickly fastens her seatbelt and throws the truck into gear.

It's nice to drive again. Aula turns the heat down and clicks on the radio. An alternate rock station fuzzes in and out. Some old songs, some new songs she's never heard of. It's something to fill the cab. The highway stretches sinuously ahead between two thick walls of evergreens. Two pairs of orange street lights flick on as they pass. Her Chevy's headlights illuminate the way ahead. Nothing is quite as dark on Earth. There's always light tucked into the atmosphere. Airglow. Northern lights. The Moon. That's what throws her the most. She's used to a blue crescent in her sky.

Sophia sips noisily. "How's your jetlag?"

"Better."

"Used to Earth gravity again?"

"Almost."

"I can drive if you're tired."

"I know."

"Okay." She stares down at her cup. "How's Harvey?"

Aula squints at the horizon. "He's fine."

Neither of them speak for a while. They near an intersection. Sensors in the road activate and bright orange street light flare as they drive by, then darken in the taillights. The radio begins to fuzz until it's only white noise. She turns it off and glances at the rearview mirror. Nobody's behind them. The closest town is an hour and a half away. When she was young, it used to scare her to be between places on nights like this. Now it's nothing. The darkness in either direction is inhabited.

A white and black sign shines in the headlights, then flashes by. Slow down and move over when passing emergency vehicles. These long sections of road used to kill a lot of people. Twinning them helped, but there's not much to say when people hit the shit at 120 km/h.

"Dad saw a polar bear last month." Sophia nods as if there's a response. "Says it was nearly six feet long. I didn't know they grew that big anymore. It gives me some hope."

"You hope for an 800 pound land carnivore?"

"Yes, qallunaaq."

It's something Aula picked up while stationed up north. It softened into a nickname over time, but history still trailed after her. As an agent of the Canadian state, her presence stirred up a lot of old hurts.

"So, your family...." She clears her throat and glances at the side mirror. "They're doing alright?"

"Dad finally got his fingers looked at. Both were broken. Good thing he went to the clinic." Sophia shakes her head in despair. "Ann and Nelly are heading to Anchorage for the music festival."

"Bobby still flying for the rigs?"

Sophia's face blanks. "Bobby's dead."

"Oh."

"They don't have phones on the Moon? Or internet?"

"We had phones, interplanetary internet." Aula's tongue feels like a piece of old plywood. "It uses Disruption-Tolerant Networking to—"

"You didn't even know." Sophia smiles tightly and looks out the passenger window. "I thought you were still angry over my movie."

Aula opens her mouth to retort, but her mind comes up empty.

Sophia leans her head against the window. "His helicopter crashed offshore. The coroner said he drowned."

"Jesus."

"Now you know."

"I wouldn't have held that over you." Aula presses her lips into a thin line when there's no reply. "It's hard to parse information up there. Earth is a constant ball of noise. When Taqqiq hit it off, I just stopped listening."

"You're still afraid."

She squares her jaw.

Sophia looks out the window again. "They let Harvey fly."

"Harvey worked his public image before he came out. He sold himself as the darling of social progress. I wasn't going to jeopardize that as a bi tag along."

The silence starts to stretch. She risks a glance at Sophia, whose expression is set.

"I'm sorry about Bobby. He was a good guy. He didn't deserve that." Aula taps her thumb on the steering wheel. "Neither of you did."

She sips more soapy coffee and keeps her eyes fixed on the road ahead. The luminescent paint is the only source of light beyond her Chevy's high beams. A never-ending runway. She puts her coffee back into the cup holder and lets the quiet wash over her. Drowning is a bad way to die. Fighting for a breath that just isn't there.

Something moves in the corner of Aula's eye. She swerves instinctively. The brakes rumble like a jet on the tarmac. The Chevy steers into the passing lane just as something massive runs across the highway. A moose. A big one. Its pale brown legs flash white in the headlights. Her truck starts to fishtail toward the left ditch. The moose lumbers so close its tail disappears from view. It hops effortlessly over the side railing and runs across the opposing lane of traffic. The Chevy skids onto the left shoulder. The front tires hits snow and drags the whole truck in. They slam into a snowdrift that near reaches the bug shield. It sparkles in the moonlight. Aula's head snaps left, then hits the window. Sparks flit across her vision. Something hot and wet spreads across her lap....

Hands cup her face. Dry thumbs slide over her eyelids.

"Aula?"

She opens her eyes slowly. "Think I pissed myself."

Sophia's frown eases. "That's your coffee."

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

Aula curls her hand around Sophia's wrist to find a pulse. "I'm going to see what the damage is. Don't want to be stranded here all night."

It's hard to open the door. Her head pounds in time with her heartbeat. She has to push over half a foot of snow in order to get out of the truck. Her boots sink into the crisp snowdrift, but the ditch is at a relatively steep angle. She trudges up to the highway shoulder and the snow barely comes up to her ankles. The exhaust is clear. The back tires are free. It might be possible to rock themselves out of the rut. She gets on her hands and knees and looks underneath the truck. Her palms burn cold. The front axle is packed in snow, but doesn't look damaged.

She stands up and surveys the highway. Nothing but long empty lines stretch in either direction. The coffee on her pants quickly cools. Now it's wet and freezing. Something wads up in the back of her throat like she ate a ball of gum. She tries to swallow it back, but it crests behind her tongue.

The passenger door creaks open. "How is it?"

"Could be worse." She impatiently wipes her face with the back of her hand. "I can get us out."

"Qallunaaq."

Aula keeps her back to the truck. "Just give me a minute."

The engine cuts out and the door slams shut. Boots crunch over ice. When Sophia appears in her peripheral vision, she groans and puts a hand over her eyes.

"Don't look at me when I'm like this."

Dry fingertips press against Aula's mouth, then slide up to gently pry her hand away from her face. She blinks rapidly and averts her eyes. Sophia kisses the back of her fingers. A press of soft chapped lips.

"They wouldn't let me see Bobby when they found his body. They wouldn't let me see you, either. I need to see. I need to know."

"You and that goddamn camera."

"I can't choose." Sophia squeezes her hand. "It's what I'm meant to do."

Aula rests her cheek on Sophia's forehead and sighs. "I know."