The Nerdy Dozen #2 by Jeff Miller

rides, Neil’s eyes turned to the manual override.

    There was no other choice. Neil disengaged the autopilot and took control of the spacecraft. The controls felt sort of like a Chameleon, and Neil manipulated the ship with confidence.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” croaked Trevor from the seat next to Neil.
    â€œKeeping us alive,” Neil said as the spaceplane burst out of the payload capsule protecting it. As the nose of the plane cleared the debris, Neil was greeted by a blinding light.
    â€œOh man! Aliens!” Biggs yelled.
    â€œNo, snow!” shouted Neil as he wrestled with the craft’s controls. For a split second the flurries of snow opened up, and Neil watched a jagged mountain range appear before him, like the teeth of an angry snow monster.
    Neil yanked the controls left, but the speed of the Fossil was too much, and the ship designed to explore galaxies collided with an arctic mountain range. The crew screamed as the thud of the crash resonated up through the seats they were strapped into.

    Neil looked for any lever or handle marked with a flying chimp and pulled them all furiously. He could feel the ship at the edge of a cliff, just barely, come to a complete stop. A glaringly white expanse stretched before them.
    â€œWelcome to space, you guys!” shouted Waffles.

NEIL GROANED AS HE UNFASTENED HIMSELF FROM THE SEAT to make sure each body part was still intact. They were, barely.
    â€œSo, what now? Unless the universe looks like a ski resort, I’d say we’re in the wrong place,” said Corinne, worried.
    â€œAnd I think the crash broke the radio. I can’t hear NASA anymore,” said Biggs. “Hello? Houston? Dallas?”
    A transmission fuzzed in and out, but it was mainly clipped words and choppy noises.

    â€œWe must be near a magnetic pole. There’s a field of something interfering,” said JP, inspecting the waveform transmitted by the radio. “Hello? Houston, are you there?” Only a static buzz answered him.
    â€œWell, I’m not just sitting here,” said Sam as she unhooked herself from her chair.
    The eleven crew members filed out of the door Finch sealed minutes before, squinting at the snowy wilderness around them. They all wore their compressed NASA flight suits, clear helmets firmly attached to their uniforms. Since they were not yet in space, the bulkier suits meant for space walking stayed tied to the walls of the air lock. Snow flew diagonally, and powder whipped up off the ground in all directions. Visibility was an issue, as anything past twenty yards was a white blurry mess.
    â€œWell, what’s the plan, dude who got put in charge?” asked Waffles. They all turned to Neil, the commander and leader of their now-arctic adventure.
    â€œYes, Master and Commander, where are we?” said Riley. “Our town blacksmith, Lord Carl, tells horrific tales of cannibal Vikings and frost ogres in places such as these.”

    Frigid winds swept up all around the crew, relentlessly pummeling the side of the ship, which echoed through the mountain range with a spooky howl.
    Neil felt pressured to provide answers. He looked to Sam for assistance, but her face seemed as scared and concerned as the others’.
    â€œWell, first things first, let’s look at the plane for any damage,” Neil said.
    Hey, that actually sounded like the correct thing to do.
    â€œRight,” said Dale, followed by his brother.
    The team quickly spread out around the now-frostbitten Whiptail, stamping about until they found a small spot of damage on the wing.
    A tiny corner of a piece of the high-tech paneling had peeled up, barely a malfunction but enough to alter the course of the ship.
    Trevor kicked a huge chunk of snow in front of him and thrashed his arms in frustration.
    â€œWell, now what do we do out here, huh?” Trevor screamed, his visible breath getting shorter and more frequent.
    A few people moaned, and nobody