Concavenator:

Most of the day-cycle went by with little worth noting. The Sun briefly rose once more behind the travellers' backs and turned the landscape red: flame-red the hanging clouds, copper-red the misty sky, cinnabar-red the waving snows. Ochre-red even the coats and boots of Kukri and Giya, and dark bloodclot-red their feathers, made stiff by frost and grime. Then, shrouded by a gust of powdered snow, the empress star lay once more below the horizon, and let darkness creep again over the land.

The frozen peaks of the Thunder Mountains lingered for a while longer, burning red over the murky darkness, as their elevation allowed them to catch the last sunlight. The travellers could not hope for a better guide to their objective. Even the wind seemed to have become quieter, and the low-hanging clouds had formed a gentle blanket over the land. Perhaps the expedition could succeed, after all. As long as the ground held.

Somehow, Giya's warning about the traitorous ice allowed Kukri to walk faster and less burdened by fear. They marched as long as they could, by the light of the alcohol flame, until they found another convenient resting place; a narrow snow-free fissure where the rock had split, going down for a few paces into a pile of gravel. A place undisturbed, most likely, for a thousand generations.

pinkgothic:

Kukri's muscles ached and her joints yearned to return to a place of warmth - any place of warmth. Even the frosty shack they'd called a hotel back in Yakak'ratu was better than this prolonged torment. It was hard keeping one's motivation steady in the face of physical stress. Ironically, the relative ease of the day had made it worse - with no events to cleave the monotony into smaller chunks, it had simply be an arduous trek, no more, no less.

Giya's resilience was a remarkable miracle to Kukri. Kukri at least had her scientific curiosity and stubborn belief in the good of the data to guide her. Giya presumably only had her pride and the meagre details of their deal.

Exhausted, Kukri settled in the fissure once they had set up cover and a shield for the wind, should it return, and took some moments to simply gather her breath and enjoy the blissful sensation of not having to move.

“Have you ever ventured this far out of Yakak'ratu before?” she asked, intent on making some conversation before they surrendered to sleep. Precious though their time was, it was hard to talk during the trek itself, given the strain of it, and she found herself more curious about Giya and her strange, patchwork family.

Concavenator:

Giya studied the rough stone walls for a while before answering. Curled as she was in the narrowest part of the crevice, barely keeping her balance on the loose gravel, she must have been less than perfectly comfortable; but her breathing, too, had become much slower and cooler since the two of them had been able to stop walking.

“Yes. Yes, I… even the Polar Fields, sometime. I know how to go there; I eat little, even less, before. I go with the caravans, the long astrapothere caravans that go to Yakachai”. She used the Chaatai name for the pass of Yqsal, that parched corridor in the mountains that leads east from Yakak'ratu into the vast ocean of sand of Kulla-Tag. All the commerces between the proud states of Chaatai and Kru'u had to cross there, but for the lowliest helping tasks, people were preferred who could be left to the snow or the sand with little grief. “Most of all we brought salt and gut-soup to the ghost-people who live there.” She shivered, a memory colder than the air. “And woven feathers back. I didn't see them”.

pinkgothic:

'Ghost people', indeed. Kukri could vividly imagine the impression the exchange must have left on Giya, given her description of it - a trade with the trading partner absent. What else to call such people, other than 'ghosts'? It wasn't very polite, but it was evocative.

The trek along the route was much longer than the one they were on - but bringing beasts of burden would lighten the effort, as would embarking on the journey during summer months. Still, that amount of travel was impressive - Kukri could certainly not claim having crossed that much distance in her lifetime. Yakak'ratu was practically a neighbouring town of Grikaa by comparison, especially factoring in how well-kept roads eased passage.

“What's the farthest you've gone and what was it for?” Kukri asked, still curious about her companion's adventures. In the privacy of her own mind, she added another question: And what did you get out of it? Did you do all this purely for food?

Concavenator:

“Just past Yakachai, where the sand starts. I saw their smoke, and some of them, they– they look like the sand, true. The caravan women give me gut-soup and cabbage, and one or two go to talk with the ghost-people, and the others wait. I don't like to go there, but they gave the most coins of all. We went there and then back several times every season. Winter, I mostly stay home, or go help with penguin herds, with making gut-soup to sell next summer.”

She scratched her neck feathers, in a patch that had become particularly knotted. After pouring out those words so freely, she seemed to regret having done so, as if she'd given away too much. After several heartbeats of silence, she turned to Kukri and asked, in a very even voice: “… Why do you go to the glaciers? Why do you go now? What do you care about them?”

pinkgothic:

It was a fair question, of course. She had said before that she was here to take measurements of the ice before it waned, but that was the what, not the why. “Perhaps it is best to think of me as an extension of the Society of Natural Philosophy and then ask what it is they want, although it is also true that I want the same thing.

“There are many discussions back home about the future of this world of ours, some of which are quite outrageous in consequence. The truth of the one or other can easily help shape the decisions of Chaatai as a whole - and the measurements of the ice are an integral part of determining which of the theories are correct.”

She paused, realising that this was all very abstract, perhaps more than was fair to simply spring on Giya. But she wasn't altogether sure she wanted to speak any of the theories out loud - it felt a little too much like summonning the demon from which you wanted to defend yourself, even if she knew, of course, that it was absurd to think it would have an effect on the truth value of those theories to merely speak them.

She debated it with herself for an eternal second, then said: “Specifically, some think Tagra may be… cooling further, until even the summer months no longer have the strength shrink the glaciers, but the winters will see them expand their territory.”

Concavenator:

It was hard to guess what how Giya would have conceived the world and her place in it, and for that matter in the outskirts of Chaatai there were still people who thought the stars shone on the inner surface of a cosmic eggshell. Even in the best case, inducting her into the Guild (and how could Kukri refuse it, after all this?) would take plenty of extra schooling.

And yet, even now that darkness had completely filled their shelter, the last glint reflected in Giya's eyes suggested that Kukri's words were not lost on her. “Then they must grow”, she said, “And the yachakri go live where 'ikra do, and the 'ikra go where the ghost-people are”. She was fallow ground, but not barren. “But the glaciers are the same as when I was a child, no more large, no more small. Four handfuls of winters. Why do people say they're larger?”

pinkgothic:

There was a certain urge to dismiss the line of enquiry, given the variables involved each themselves invited yet more questions - but it was the essence of science, and they might as well start now.

“Some of my colleagues believe there are indicators from history. A great many generations prior, there were claims that the ice would disappear completely during summer, not merely shrink back as it does now.

“Others of the Society have observational and historic data about how far south different plants thrive. Those data suggest that the boundary of their territory creeps further north each year. Yet it also hasn't been observed for quite long enough to be conclusive and old records, initially kept for other reasons, often prove vexingly ambiguous.

“And so I am to take measurements of the ice itself, to see what it will tell us of itself.”

Concavenator:

Giya simply replied: “I will help you as you wish”. She was not convinced. Kukri would have liked for both of them to see the truth with their own eyes, whichever it would be; but this was not a matter one could observe with their own eyes, for if the glaciers were indeed growing, this was a process that had started long before there were 'ikra at all. A few leagues of difference per octade, perhaps, easily concealed by seasonal changes.

If only there were a way to reach back to their ancestors in the age of brutedom, closer to yachakri in temperament than to the fine peers of the Guild, and see their world as they saw it then! But the song of epochs could only be heard through layers upon layers of indirection. Tables of numbers, here's what Kukri could offer to her future (perhaps) student; subtle shifts of colors in buried rocks, changing forms in the bed of creeks. How much more satisfying, at least, if doom were to come from the Great Being of the Takrakaya cracking open the eggshell of heavens.

pinkgothic:

Giya's answer imbued Kukri with a mild disappointment. It did not hurt her that Giya was not convinced - some of Kukri's most respected colleagues back in Chaatai felt the same way - but it bothered her that she would ask no probing questions about it.

Maybe it was to be expected. She had not been brought up to ask questions. Questions were the privilege of the well-fed, who could afford to disgruntle others with an ill-timed or ill-phrased enquiry. Giya was not that kind of person.

And so, with a very intentional patience, Kukri offered some insights into the culture of science.

“I sense scepticism,” she said, her tone encouraging. “I realise it does not come easily, but amongst the members of Society of Natural Philosophy, it is best not to simply silently dwell on your own disbelief. It is healthy to doubt, but of scientists, you should ask questions. It is not an insult to us.

“A good question will make a scientist question their theories. A good question will let us arrive at the truth, together. I must gather the measurements regardless how I feel about them, as that is what I was sent here to do, but independent of that, I encourage you to change my mind on whether it was the right thing to pursue.”

Concavenator:

Giya pondered on that for long in the pale light of the alcohol stove, chewing the words over and over. Perhaps she was just humoring her employer, though she'd already been willing to at least question her. Finally she said: “Father says eating comes now and then now, and if one waits too long before taking food and asks from where it is and what kind it is, others take it first. Priestess Yakri says to ask many questions of people but not of 'Au'a. Also says natural philosophers take most smart of 'ikra but talk too much to each other and talk only of being most smart”. She looked down at her boots, which her toe-claws make quiver nervously. “I beg pardon, Kukri; natural philosophers did never talk to me before. I don't know what you do or say. Maybe if you ask questions of 'Au'a, to you She responds”. A longer pause, as she studied the thin sliver of black sky peeking into their shelter. “But you are people, so maybe to you I can ask. After we see the glacier and after you do your measures, what will you do?”

pinkgothic:

Maybe if you ask questions of 'Au'a, to you She responds. The sentence held so much hope and dejection at the same time that Kukri felt an urge to reach out and touch Giya in a gesture of quiet understanding. But it would have been no more than a gesture - there was no real understanding. The gulf was great; Kukri could pretend to imagine what it was like, but was intelligent enough to know that it was simply a fantasy all the same.

And so she instead focussed on the question Giya finally brought herself to ask. What would happen after the measurements were taken, indeed?

“After,” Kukri said, negotiating each syllable carefully to denote that it was not an easy question to answer in a satisfying way, but that she would try. “The immediate work is unexciting - the data is brought back to Chaatai and I and others will discuss what it means. Though nature always speaks the truth, it is not always clear to us what it means.”

A moment's insight. Then, with a tonal smile: “You might say that 'Au'a does not speak to us, either.”

She continued, however, with: “But once we agree on what it means, the Archons will act upon the information. They usually do not do so immediately, and the process of waiting may well become painful, but regardless what answers we find, we should have at least two generations before the matter becomes pressing, and they will have time to dawdle if they wish.

“But should it turn out that we must focus on breaking the wall of the sea and find new land in order for civilisation to escape an eternal winter, then the Archons may choose to focus all the guilds' collective efforts on such, or some of them, or ask of the Society of Natural Philosophy to explore other options. It is their choice.”

Concavenator:

She could almost see it, in that moment, 'ikra-kind breaking free from the cold shackles of nature, pursuing its destiny beyond the eon-old borders of its world, in the unknown lands she had dreamed so long ago; though her dreams had not figured so much musty wood and rustling paper and frozen appendages as reality.

Her guide, on the other hand, had taken a strange posture upon hearing that 'Au'a would not answer clearly to Kukri's guild, either. Perhaps puzzlement on how could people rise to such a high standing without special favor from the Watchful; perhaps disappointment, that all of Tagra was indeed alone and abandoned to chaos, the wealthy and wise no less than the ragged and illiterate. Kukri would have to wonder under which of Her aspects did Giya's family know the ultimate being. Perhaps the Awakener, patron of the guild of icebreakers, would be the best for her.

But then her posture had turned weary when Kukri had mentioned the Archons. One from the dirtiest slums of Yakak'ratu had little reason to place hope or trust in them. Maybe that, too, was something that could be taught. As soon as Giya was sure that her companion had finished speaking, she replied: “And if not, if they say: 'Au'a doesn't speak to you, you lie?”

pinkgothic:

Kukri swerved her muzzle about a little in a contemplative gesture. Then: “I do not think that will happen. They will not be listening to me. They will be listening to the Archon of our sciences.”

But the swerving still continued for a little while, until she added: “But if it did happen, we would need to find another way to make the endeavour happen. It would be a daunting task and I hope never to have to witness the effort, but as long as the goal remains clear, those dedicated to it could work on it. The more the better.”

Her voice did not betray just how much she hoped she wouldn't have to witness such an effort - it was an interesting mental exercise at the moment, to think of such a situation, but the consequences of the Parliament ignoring the warnings would be as bad as the worst storm Tagra had ever seen and require just as much effort to deal with, without the benefit of easy central organisation.

But it would be possible to move something even in absence of the Parliament. Very hard and terrible, but possible.

Concavenator:

There must have been a great gale of novel ideas in Giya's mind by that point, most likely more than in her previous travels north and east, and it was starting to make her restless through the layers of torpor, as if to mental activity should correspond physical. The very concept of trying to get the Archons to do one's will, to go past them, even to usurp their power in a way, it was like reshaping the mountains or repainting the sky, for was it not 'Au'a the Oathkeeper who had blessed the Republic and its charter?

Giya said, quietly: ”… It will be long”. Indeed in her station, living from meal to meal, she could hardly have afforded much long-term planning, apart perhaps from raising her own siblings. And there Kukri was speaking of a plan on a scale greater than history. “And will you need me, when you do this?”

pinkgothic:

Kukri seemed to consider the question in private for a while, even though to Giya it must have seemed like such a mundane, simple enquiry. Yet when she spoke, the reason for her hesitance became clear: “In a sense, depending on how the matter plays out, I may well need all of 'ikra kind who are willing to aid me… but I should not have need of you specifically. Yet I would certainly appreciate you, very much indeed.”

Concavenator:

Giya thanked her quietly, in a rather formal tone, but tilted her head in appreciation. Perhaps she wanted that conversation to end on a pleasant note, before it went on to another pulse of madness. She folded her head into the dense feathers on her chest as she laid down to sleep, studying Kukri through a half-open eye. A benign gaze, all considered.