rogue_3

Maryam returned to Rhine Lab HQ a few months ago. His appearance in Trimounts is such a rare occurrence that when he walks through the corridor to Control's office, most people only recognize him through the characteristic sound of his cane tapping the ground. In this regard, electronic equipment has an advantage. The ID card that had travelled the entire length of Terra immediately identifies its bearer as Mr. Andenate Maryam, who has an appointment with Control.

As usual, Rhine Lab's Control sits before her console, eyes fixated on a model on the monitor and hardly reacting to her visitor. With one hand she gestures for Maryam to sit down, while with the other hand she flicks across the panel, causing the ideas of countless Rhine Lab scholars to flash across her display. Maryam wordlessly puts down the application files for the survey project and remains standing before her desk. He prefers the feeling of standing on real terra firma to any futuristic aesthetics or ergonomic designs.

'The Infy Icefield?' Kristen finally picks up the application. 'Fifteen members. The largest polar survey to date.'

'Our accumulated experience and the facilities at the base station are sufficient to support an expansion in our survey activities. Many mysteries still lie hidden in the endless icefield, and it's time we discovered them.'

Getting a meeting with Control was not an easy thing these days. Maryam knew that her trips away from HQ have become more frequent and longer in duration. Maintenance staff at the Scientific Investigation Section reported that she had quietly visited many remote survey locations before spending long periods at the location of the underground signal near Trimounts. He had a hunch that she had already found what she asked him to look for, back at that party.

But her ambition was not his concern. He was here because every survey project in the Scientific Investigation Section had Control's signature on it.

'Would you not go if no one agreed with you?' Kristen suddenly asked.

The Kuranta, never one to be verbose, snorted.

The answer was obvious. Even if there were no mission, no recognition, Maryam the explorer would continue to walk towards the unknown horizon on his own, cane in hand. 'I believe we can get closer to the end of the Infy Icefield,' he said, pointing to the application.

'Infy Icefield... yes, Infy Icefield.

'The continuation of one of your survey projects, a partial answer to your spirit of exploration—I met God, you know. As close to omniscient as you can get, Maryam.

'He told me things about the end of the icefield that I thought I should share with you.'

Jon frantically jots down notes, while Sophie compares previous data on the icefields to the visitor's statements. The research station's life support system runs without a hitch, providing heat and clean water to this rare glut of visitors. After a few hours of conversation, the members of the research team begin to accept that the Sarkaz visitor was who she claimed to be—a Cyclops who lived in seclusion in the northern mountains of Sami. One with the gift of foresight. Prophet or not, her information was detailed and accurate. She would make a good guide.

'On behalf of Rhine Lab's Scientific Investigation Section, I hereby express our interest in working with you,' said Maryam, who had remained silent up to this point. 'I have just one question.'

'Go ahead.'

'You claim you need to work with outsiders because you saw what lay deep within the icefields. Have you ever reached the end of the icefields?'

'I can tell you of the dangers I have foreseen.'

Foreseen. Maryam mused upon the word. Prophet. Omniscient.

He laughed, something that was decidedly out of character for him.

'This isn't the first time someone's tried to tell me what the end of the endless icefield looks like.

'But don't bother. Let's see it for ourselves.'

The explorers embark on the return journey.

Sami no longer denies their passage, but the encounters and events along the way have all but exhausted their supplies.

All of them wish to take just one step further, but all of them know it would be one step too far.

It is time to return to the south, resupply, research, request funding. The team will not head north again until all is ready.

Some have already started calculating the cost-benefit analysis of the expedition on the way.

Personnel, equipment, supplies... all necessary losses in exploration.

Discovery of new species, documentation of phenomena, publishing an account of the journey... all potential gains from the expedition that may ensure that there is a next one.

Most importantly—

As 'southerners,' they have earned the goodwill of the Sami people.

In the past, they could not expect any assistance from Sami barbari—er, friends from Sami. They would count themselves lucky simply not to be on the receiving end of their axes and arrows.

But they have made enough trips into Sami and the icefields. There is no reason for humans to senselessly fight other humans.

You trade rations for weapons. I trade medicine for new things from the outside.

Some explorers end up staying behind at Sami camps, facilitating communications and trade with the natives. Few would admit that they had fallen head over heels for a certain pretty (or handsome) Sami.

Some young warriors, tired of life in the villages, join the research teams as guides and bodyguards.

The walls of prejudice give way as exchange became more frequent, and the two sides begin to learn from and understand each other.

Sami or Columbian, they all have one head, two hands, two feet. Most of the time. Maybe the occasional tail.

This time, the Sami hold a feast to see their explorer friends off on their journey home.

A bonfire is lit under the clan tree, and Sami and outlander alike sing and dance around the fire.

Wooden puppets furiously spin the hand-powered generators, supplying power to the countless lights hung everywhere.

Fowlbeasts and drones dance in the sky together, to the tune of Sami hunting songs.

With the clan tree's permission, the tribe's Snowpriest hangs a great disco ball on the branches, and raises their scepter to call down lightning.

After a few moments of crackling, the disco ball begins to fill the space with enchanting, colorful lights.

Magallan cuddles up in a blanket, telling stories of her travels to fascinated Sami girls in fluent Sami.

Instant noodles float in wooden bowls, while the Sami girls eat their porridge from plastic and stainless steel bowls.

The revelers share food and stories.

For some reason, the scene reminds Magallan of a bonfire party on the school lawn, a long time ago.

The people care nothing for complicated matters, like who is Columbian and who is Sarkaz.

There are no goals, no ideals.

Enjoy the moment. That is all it takes.

Magallan finds herself relaxing for the first time in a while. She curls up and drifts into dream, as the other girls continue to chitter and chatter.

The other girls lay her on the ground, cover her with a blanket, pull the door sheet down, and silently leave the tent.

As the last girl leaves, she hangs a dreamcatcher on the tent's beam.

Tonight's noise will not interfere with Magallan's sweet dream.

She wakes up to find that a new day has come.

She opens the tent's door, and the morning rays rush in.

The sun is rising in the distance.

Most of the others still slumber in their tents, last night's revelry having taken its toll.

Magallan walks up to the cliff and looks up at the rising sun.

Exploration never stops at exploration. Magallan knew that.

Why, then?

A hunter who had risen early walks up to Magallan, asks to sit with her to watch the sunrise together, and Magallan assents.

She passes a gummy with colorful packaging to the hunter, who takes the candy and begins digging in her own pocket to find something.

She eventually finds a piece of jerky shaped like a branch, and gives it to Magallan.

Magallan thanks her and accepts.

The two chew on their respective prizes for a while, as they savor the sun's journey into the heavens together.

Magallan is walking along the plains spread across the subterranean realm.

The land is vast, yet few know of the wonders here beneath the surface.

Three days ago, she rappelled down one of the deep holes found across Sami, trying to discover the secrets within the 'scars of the earth.'

In her investigations, she finds plants attached to the rock wall as well as slimy secretions, increasing in frequency as she descends further.

Past a certain depth, the plants and secretions fill virtually the entire space.

But Magallan finds a way to keep going down, down, down.

Searching in the vegetation, reaching out in the darkness.

Finally, her hand finds wet, slippery rock. She has reached the deepest part of the hole.

This place is like an ethereal paradise, the mist veiling everything that the light touches.

The earth below and the rocks around are damp, but the air feels slightly dry.

It feels less like Sami than a forest in Victoria or Leithanien.

Magallan checks the equipment that she brought.

All instruments are silent, and her other equipment is less responsive than it should be.

She must light a torch and proceed in the darkness.

It hardly feels like she is underground. She might as well not be, except for the solid rock where the sky ought to be.

Moss and lichen have thoroughly covered the few fallen rocks.

Plants the likes of which Magallan has never seen grow in abundance. Their fruits look tasty, but eating them is a risk that she will not take while she still has rations with her.

There are even streams and rivers in this underground space. Real water, no different from above ground. It is cold and sweet, with a flavor that Magallan cannot describe.

Ancient? Lost? Or—

Magallan savors it again.

It is the sound of silence.

It is a soundless lament.

Magallan follows the water and finds a cave at the end.

Magallan follows the cave and finds a regularly blinking light at the exit.

Attached to the cave, it spreads out far and wide, branching and blinking constantly.

But the light in the middle is the brightest.

Magallan follows the light.

She does not know how much time has passed. Time no longer seems important.

She has already cast aside all her gear. She holds a single walking stick in her hand, and her long hair hangs down.

She has not started a fire for a long time, for the rock wall continues to provide light from time to time.

Rations have long since run out, replaced by fruit and spring water.

She keeps walking, walking, accompanied by her most loyal companion.

Passion for exploration.

The thirst for knowledge.