Originally hosted on https://illoria.wixsite.com/annamittower/anthology-of-speculative-scribbles

“Papa, why did you name me Snow when there is no snow here?”

I was only six when I asked that of my father, but even now so many decades later I remember his answer.

“Snow is beautiful and so are you. But more importantly, snow is a symbol of hope for our planet. We need to keep that hope near and cherish it.”

Being only six, I didn’t understand what he meant other than saying I was beautiful. Hope was too vague of a notion for my immature mind to grasp. I never understood why some of my friends disappeared and never came back. Slowly my friend group shrank in size.

Even then the vast emigration of our people had begun, but how was a father to explain that to a young child upset at losing her friends?

In my teen years, I finally began to understand a little. The emigration plan was finally officially put into action by the government and it was all the news talked about. People began to flee our dying planet faster than ever, but still my family remained.

Over the next ten years the population on planet remained nearly the same, however, as short term tourists and thrill seekers replaced the residents who left. The high temperatures turned our world into one of the top tropical resort planets in the galaxy as the temperate zone on our planet took over the entire planet. Now the high temperature records set when I was a child were considered cool weather.

My father left me to run the touring company while he dug deep underground and prepared for the worst. He never explained his actions, but I understood by then. Others might leave, fleeing the death of our once stable world, but our family would never run away. As we had been there in the beginning, one of the founding families, so we would be there till the end.

Many a time I spent my free moments wondering exactly what kind of end that would be. The scientist agreed on one thing only. The heat would increase until life could no longer be sustained on the surface. However, they couldn’t agree on what would happen then. Would the planet erupt into volcanic chaos? Would the atmosphere boil away into nothing, asphyxiating us? Death awaited, but no one knew what form. The only topic on which the scientists could agree less was the cause of the planet’s death. They had databases full of data from all the years our planet had been colonized, but no cause could they pinpoint. Whatever had happened, it started well before even my father was born.

The death throes began quietly and slowly with a gradual change that turned our planet from half icy wasteland into a warmer climate. The population exploded in this time as people spread to previously unlivable zones and the colony finally paid off its debts as tourism began to pour in.

But, the change never stopped and slowly the first cities in the warmest zones where the colonization began emptied as people moved north and south to cooler climates. My family was one of those that moved in that migration. My grandfather packed up the whole family and moved us to the northernmost plot of land he could buy and created the touring company. The family criticized him for it, but over the years, as more people fled the hottest zones, their complaints faded away.

Their memories of snow and ice also faded away over the years as well, leaving no one in my generation or my father’s who had seen snow.

It was also my grandfather who began the task of digging deep into the underground of our land. My father continued on in his footsteps and added yet more levels to the complex. However, he died due to a cave-in before my thirtieth birthday.

And so I took up the mantle of our survival instead.

The money we earned from our touring company all went to the digging or to buying food stores. Not all of my extended family agreed with this. Those that complained joined the emmigration, abandoning their kin to flee for their lives. But no matter, the food would last longer without them.

It was with little fanfare that our family enlarged slightly when I married a man from one of the other founding families. Their remaining people joined our great task and with more hands the work proceeded faster.

It was as well that it did, for shortly after I turned forty-one, the temperatures on the surface reached such a level that our booming tourism industry burned up. Literally. Now entire zones on the surface were marked as red zones unsuitable for life. Only two types of people visited our planet now: the thrill seekers who wanted to experience death first hand and scientists wanting to study our dying planet. Like moths to a flame, they swarmed to our planet, only, in several cases, to literally burn to a crisp.

One of the last communications I heard from the federation was an order banning any ship to transport civilians to our planet. Our planet was officially now marked with a red flag and the last of the tourists left. Very few military ships were permitted to land shuttles on our planet and they only came to evacuate those that remained. One such shuttle landed near our home and tried to persuade us to leave on board. A few did take the offer, though they had to leave most of their possessions behind, but I and my husband and those loyal to us stayed.

Stubborn, the soldiers called us, but they didn’t try to force us to leave, which I appreciated. I gave them directions as to where to find the other remaining settlements and thanked them for their efforts. They left, but several weeks later the same shuttle returned.

“The commander thinks you are crazy, but take this. It’s a military grade com unit which can transmit to space. Use it to contact the patrol ship stationed in system if you change your mind about leaving.”

I stored the unit deep inside our complex. However, I was sure even their commander knew the futility of giving it to us. Once the temperatures drove us underground, we would not be able to leave.

Less than two years later, the window closed and we descended underground, barring the doors behind us.

My youngest child never even knew the surface, just as I never knew snow. Our whole world was now limited to our home underground. The vast warren built for several times the number of those that remained would house us easily for decades. Possibly even generations.

However, we never forgot the surface entirely. Teams went up during the planetary night to service our remaining sensors that kept us aware of the planet’s condition. I wondered what would happen when the last of the sensors broke or we could no longer fix the insulating suits needed for the team to access them.

Contrary to the scientists’ predictions, the planet didn’t break itself apart with volcanic chaos, nor did the atmosphere burn off entirely. And then, nearly thirty years after being driven underground, the surface began to cool.

At first it changed gradually, the temperature stabilizing for several years before dropping ever so slightly. But then the change accelerated at an astonishing speed. It dove past temperate and straight into weather cold enough for us to see our breaths in less than three years.

We unbarred the doors and dressed warmly for the first time in our lives. Our children and grandchildren finally saw the sun and sky. I could barely believe what I was seeing as I shivered. The outside world looked flat and barren now. No sign of life remained. We were the only things that moved on the rocky surface.

Then, one day, it happened. I had pulled out the com unit left behind by those soldiers so long ago. It appeared to work when I transmitted a message, but no one answered. The patrol established all those decades ago most likely had been withdrawn, the ships needed elsewhere. I left the com unit on, however, and stationed one of the more responsible grandchildren to keep watch.

One of the more excitable of my grandchildren found me just after I left.

“Grandmother Snow, there’s something weird happening outside. Mother sent me to get you. Hurry!”

“Peace, child. I will come, but hurry is no longer in my vocabulary.”

She pouted, but didn’t leave me in the dust, dancing on the spot while she waited for me to catch up. The walk to the outer door seemed to take far longer every year as the strength faded from my body, but I would not yet yield to infirmity. However, I was grateful to my father for installing the lift to the surface. The long staircase to the surface was now beyond my abilities.

My daughter, the child’s mother, met me at the entrance with a heavy coat for me to wear.

“Come and see this, mother.”

Oh how I did see. Or at least I did before tears blurred my vision. The sky had disappeared behind the light gray clouds covering the sky. I blinked away my tears, but the landscape around me remained blurred. I strained my eyes, trying to see through the veil covering the world and muting the sounds around us. But then the veil reached us and small white flakes drifted lazily around us.

I put out an ungloved hand and one landed icy cold on my palm. My hand shook as the flake melted into a single drop of water.

“What is that, mother?”

My tears flowed once again as I stared out at the fluttering flakes. “That is hope, my daughter. Hope for us and for our planet.”

END