Free After Earth by Christine Peymani

dad’s voice seemed to be coming from far away. Then I remembered, he was far away, alone on a ruined ship just like I was alone in this empty clearing. I thought about answering, but my lips wouldn’t move. Or maybe I just drifted off again before I could try.
    â€œKitai, it’s time to get up.” I thought I heard some fear in his voice now, but that was impossible. The great Cypher Raige is one of only seven humans in history to be completely free of fear. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe in the dream, my dad loved me so much that his worry for me was greater than his unbreakable, inhuman composure. Something howled around me—maybe the wind, maybe a wolf. Nothing I could do, either way.
    â€œKitai, I want you to blink your eyes.” I just wanted to sleep, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. “Son, I need you to please blink your eyes.”
    That was strange. He hadn’t called me “son” in years. I had to know if I had imagined it, so I fluttered my eyes open. “Hey, Dad,” I said, my voice raspy and throat dry. “That sucked.”
    â€œThat is correct.” I wondered if I had just heard my dad attempt a joke. Not at all what I expected from him. But then he continued drily delivering the facts, and I figured things were back to normal. “The temperature is dropping five degrees every ten minutes,” Dad told me. “You’ve got twelve kilometers to the hot spot.” No time for a heartfelt reunion, then. Back to business.
    Struggling to my feet, I began gathering up my gear. When I finally had everything, my dad said, “Let’s see that ten kilometers in fifty minutes that you spoke about earlier, Cadet.”
    Of course, that was my speed when I was feeling good. Now I felt terrible, still recovering from the leech’s poison, but I had no choice but to try. If I couldn’t get to the hot spot in time, I would freeze—simple as that.
    â€œSir, yes sir,” I said, my voice still weak and raspy. Setting my naviband, I followed its bearings to the north. I sprinted unevenly over the icy terrain. I saw animals scrambling underground to avoid the deep freeze. Then it started to snow, and I drew in a breath as the tiny ice crystals brushed my bare head and cheeks.
    When my dad asked for an update, I told him, “Ten mikes out. Good. All good.” I ran steadily, though it took everything I had to simply keep putting one foot in front of the other as the cold seeped into my body. “Five mikes out,” I reported, feeling pretty proud of myself for shaking off the poisoning and running through the freezing air.
    I arrived at an elevated volcanic area where steam rose from the ground. Lush trees lay tipped over with the weight of overripe fruit, the sickly sweet scent of rot filling the air.
    â€œHot Spot One arrival,” I announced. “H plus forty-eight minutes!”
    Outside the geothermal zone, I saw that the entire forest was covered in ice. Coughing, I said, “Sir. I made it. I’m here.”
    It took him longer to answer than I would’ve expected, and I wondered again if everything was okay back on the ship. But when he replied, he sounded as in control as ever. “Make sure you have everything. Take your next inhaler. Your oxygen extraction is bottoming.”
    I opened the med kit to do as he said, but what I saw was beyond belief. Terrifying. Life-threatening.
    Two of the five remaining vials were broken. I didn’t know if I had crushed them in my fight with the baboons, or maybe when I fell over after the leech poisoned me, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I didn’t have enough breathing fluid left to complete my mission. Technically, that meant the mission should be over, right now. I hid the kit from my dad, not wanting him to know we were doomed. I would find some way to make it work—I had to. Both our lives depended on it.
    â€œUse the next dose of