Warm for Snow, Part 1

The springs here are more brutal on a person than the winters. In winter, the snow and biting cold make the base seem like a cozy alternative to braving the elements. The hills are painted in forbidding, obscuring white and cabin-fever is cowed by the rational fear of getting lost in the blizzard battered landscape and never returning. But in the spring, the pale blanketing melts slowly and the cloud cover brings rain instead of flakes. The deep purple and red terrain is exposed and the faint reddish-orange sunlight lightens the sky in the afternoons. The first buds of plant life sprout in blue and green and a cooped-up human may be tempted to venture out.

Gos is far too experience to give into the longing, but he looks out the wide windows anyway. The thaw came early this year—tauntingly so. Gos watches the rivulets of rain sculpt sculpt a new path down the ravine and startles as Aver sits beside him on the bench.

“According to the the records, this is the earliest spring in Alpius Valley in nearly a decade. Maybe the expedition to the Honeycombs will be able to set off early,” Aver says. He’s watching the rain with clear excitement. It’s his first spring in the valley and Gos sighs at the young cartographer’s naivety.

“It won’t be early. The thaw may be early but it’s plenty cold out there. The summer won’t be rushed and spring here is always long. This one will just be longer,” Gos says, eyes still locked on the world beyond the window. Aver seems unfazed.

“It’s getting warmer, though. That’s worth something isn’t it?”

“I supposed. It’s too warm for snow know. Still cold enough to kill.”

“Only if you stay out there too long. It’s no longer a frozen hell-scape,” Aver says with a smile. Gos shakes his head, a frown engrained on his features.

“The mudslides can trap you even if you step lightly. You don’t have to go far to find yourself dying in the wet and cold.”

Aver’s cheer finally fades. It rushes from him and leaves him looking smaller next to the valley native.

“I know that, Gos. I read the reports.”

Gos just gives a vague hum of acknowledgement. They listen to the rain against the the glass and metal that defends them.

“Don’t you ever wonder what happens out there in the spring? What the creatures are doing? Which of the plants flower in the spring? What the valley looks like waking up?”

Aver’s voice is quiet and soft. Gos smiles at the questions, sad and wishful.

“I wonder. But I’ve learned from experience it’s not worth the risk.”

“That’s bullshit, Gos.”

Gos’ attention whips from the window to Aver. The anger is unusual on Aver’s frame but he wears it comfortably.

“Is it, Aver?”

“Yes, Gos, it is. People have braved far more dangerous places for far less reasonable causes. All we need is a plan. We have the gear we can make the preparations. We just have to be braver enough to try!”

“And if we fail? If I let you lead an expedition that, like every spring attempt before it, disappears, what then?”

“Then I will have truly devoted my life to the valley. If I die having seen something no one else has seen, it’s worth it, Gos.”

Gos is silent for a long beat, his gaze trailing off towards the window but unfocused on the view. Aver fidgets and breaks the silence.

“I’ve trained for this, Gos. And maybe I didn’t grow up n the valley, but I grew up in the Parna Wetlands on Mee-an and we hardly had a proper settlement like the valley’s. If anyone can pull it off it’s me.”

“I know, Aver. That’s why they hired you. I think the directors are crazy for doing it. How the expect me to send you and a crew out there to die is beyond me.”

“We won’t die!”

“You don’t know that!”

Aver stands and block Gos’ view of the window. Gos reluctantly looks up into Aver’s eyes.

“You don’t know that we will, either,” Aver says, low and determined. Gos’ resolve breaks. He looks to the floor with its worn wood marked by countless footsteps.

“Fine. Send in your proposal. Request your gear and organize the team. I want six people on it, and two of them have to have medical training.”

Aver’s excitement returns with joy mixed along with it.

“I can make that work. Me, Dr. Thormac, Rah Mola, Boots, Pallas, and—“

“And me.”

“Gos?”

“I’ve sent plenty of teams to their deaths and I’m not watching another leave without me. Now, go, Aver. You’ve got work to do.”

Aver nods and the boards creak as he hurries away. Gos stands and stares out the window. He watches a stone tumble down the ravine, loosened by the steady constant rain.