The local’s words sleeted my veins more than the icy winds. I could tolerate the ice. I could endure the snow. I could even brave the arctic waters and boreal blizzards. But I could not endure the words that made me feel a hypocrite, a pretend hero in a world where self-preservation reigned as sole ruler, and everyone had forgotten about those in need, forsaken hope in a brighter future for utilitarianism in a cynical present.

Worst part was that I couldn’t blame him. That a part of me felt that the local was right. That maybe it was me who was mistaken. Felt like I was casketed in an eternal ice grave, entombed in an avalanche I could not escape from. Ellie and Tim always hoped for the best, and ended up charred in a raw Eugenex blast. While the misanthropical jerks in government and the Harmonists survived unscathed. Perhaps the haters of humanity had a point, but I knew Ellie and Tim had died for hope, I knew I couldn’t fully bring myself to accept the local’s pessimism, but still I …

And as I thought, almost as if the Holy Spirit’s wind was talking to me, the gelid whiffs that danced around us began to turn into polar blasts that lashed us into action, so hopelessness could not win. Tempests so glacial that I even longed for the scorch of the Bridge. Because even breathing punctured my throat, and spiked my nose, to the point not even covering my mouth with my hand and breathing into it warmed me. It just lacerated me more. I even shivered. And rubbing my hands together did not help.

The few locals watching the shuddering foreigner must have pitied me, for they handed me some winter clothes. And a smartwatch even, despite their poverty. It put me to shame. And the man who did not accuse us invited us to his house, so I could seat by the fireplace and thaw. Placed a bandage over my arm wound. Shocked that Girgor entered as well, and did not say a thing.

“So you came to bring devastation to us, traitor?” the local said. “Once you’re done, you oughtta leave. You’re wanted.”

“How do you even know about me?” I regretted the words the second I said them. Because I knew better.

“You must have seen the light posts,” the local said. “We have electricity, televisions, smartwatches, everything you have in the cities.”

We? I guessed he meant the Impures. But then again, maybe even the Naturals had electricity. They would have died if they didn’t. The local then flashed his smartwatch. And the wind clouted me. Because it said the wind made it feel like –60°C. –76°F.

It was cold.

“Everything but the VirtuaNet studios. And the virus,” the local added. “But that’s for the better.”

An ice fist blasted my chest, to the point I felt my lungs frozen. Should I have told them the truth? I guessed they already knew, if they had seen the news, but if they didn’t, what would have been the right thing?

I thought about what I would have preferred in that situation. It coiled my veins, but I knew the answer. And I was about to speak, but Girgor interrupted me.

“Did the soldiers attack anyone else? Other than the man who died?”

“The man you let them kill,” I muttered. Loud enough so Girgor could hear me.

“Why should I speak to a traitor’s accomplice?” the local said. “We already helped you. Now depart for good, and let us live in peace.”

“Did they threaten you?” I said. “Or Pangnirtung?”

“Enough!” the local yelled.

“They did, didn’t they?” I said. “The bastards. We can help.”

“What do you have in mind?” Girgor said.

“Whatever it is, forget it,” the local said. “You must leave now.”

“You just need to tell us what’s going on at the base,” I said. “Or tell us how to get there.”

“They threatened us,” the Inuit-looking man said. “Said they would decimate Pang if we blabbed. So depart before the soldiers return. We can’t hide you forever.”

“Did they do something to you?” I said. “To your family?”

The man stood. “This conversation is over,” he said. “Besides, if you head there it won’t be the soldiers who kill you, but the prisoners themselves. Two of them, anyway.”

I winced. And then stepped toward him, eagerly, to get him to talk more.

“An old couple,” he said. “Taken. I overheard them by the airport. Said they were happy that they could at least live to see the day you perished.” He sneered. “But I suppose you did not grant them that satisfaction either. You should have died.”

“Don’t,” Girgor blasted. “He … may have family waiting for him.”

The local had clenched his fists. And Girgor stepped back. Knees flexed.

I realized where that was going. “Old couple you say?” Diverted the conversation. And described to him Ashley’s parents.

“Yep, they were them.”

“Those were my girlfriend’s parents, former girlfriend.”

“Must have dumped you.”

“She died.” At last I could say the phrase without welling up. Or the ice had frozen my tear ducts. I hoped it was the former. “Ashley died in my arms,” I said. “I could not save her. But I will save her parents.”

“You’ll sacrifice Pang for a memory?” the man said. “You’re going to put us at risk just to save your dead girl’s parents?” He sneered. “That’s the definition of selfishness.” His eyes as avalanches ready to suffocate me.

“They captured others as well,” I said. “Whatever they’re doing to them, the faster we can get there, the higher the chance of saving them.”

“I lost my wife too,” the man said. “But I’m not going to sacrifice an entire hamlet just for her memory,” he said. “What about us? Do we not matter? Why are their lives worth more to you than ours?”

“They’re of equal value,” I said. “But there’s a chance we can defend Pang and win, even at the cost of our lives, my life, if you don’t want to fight. But if we do nothing for those captives, if we don’t even try to save them, there’s no chance they’ll survive.” I chuckled. “I’d rather take the slim odds of saving everyone than the 100% chance of the captives dying.”

“What if the captives are dead by the time you get there, and then the soldiers come and annihilate Pang?” he said. “That’s 100% chance of everyone dead.”

“I’d rather try to save everyone now,” I said. “Than to be certain the captives will die. Besides, what if Julius decides to attack Pang in the future? Then you saved no one.”

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” he said. “But for the time being we’re safe.”

“Living in fear is not safety,” I said. “Not helping others is dying. Now I know that.”

He remained silent, as if he agreed with me, but wasn’t sure he wanted to. Or as if I had reminded him of something he had lost.

“I’m going to help those captives,” I said. “And I’m going to save Pang, with or without you. But with your help it’ll be much easier and faster. I’ll come up with something once I save Ashley’s parents.”

“So you want me to wager over 500 souls on I’ll come up with something?”

“I’ll figure something out,” I said. “Worst case scenario: I die fighting for you.”

“I don’t care if you die,” the man said. “I care about those living here.”

“You’re lying,” I said. “If you didn’t care, you’d have told the soldiers of my presence. But you didn’t. You care.”

“Sneaky, kid,” he said. “But I don’t care enough to help you break into the base.”

“Tuitio Fidei et Obsequium Pauperum,” Girgor stated. Solemn. To the point the local even muttered the last word, but shut his mouth before we could notice. He failed.

“Defense of the faith and assistance to the poor,” Girgor said. “You used to be a Knight. You never forget that motto. That is why you seemed familiar. Eudora’s assault perhaps? Or did you volunteer during the war? Yellowstone disaster management?”

“Wexford,” he said. “Saved some people. And then assisted during the refugee crisis.” He faced down. “When I still hoped for a better future.”

I stepped toward the local. “Did Zielkkenhom kill your wife?” I said. “Eudora?”

“An illness did,” he said. “But that’s beside the point. I lost hope when Zielkkenhom introduced Eugenex. When people chose Eugenex. Voted him in. His followers. Set up their laws. Ruined civilization. Because the Enhanceds in the Federation and the Confederacy behave in the same way. Saw those I had saved become as inhuman as those I had saved them from. Only the southern territories are somewhat spared. But they shall soon fall. It’s just a matter of time. No point in saving people who’ll become as brutal as their captors. So depart now, while Pang still has time to live.”

“There is still hope,” I said. “I felt the same way when—”

“A man dyed the snow red because of hope,” he said. “We have a good deal with the soldiers. I ship supplies to them at the base for free so they won’t attack us. But that will change the second they realize I helped someone sneak into their base.”

“You may think there’s no hope left,” I said. “But there is. I’ve seen it firsthand. When you lose hope, you become capable of anything. Your end will justify your means. You’ll become a Harmonist, a terrorist. Nothing more than a vicious murderer. I want to give hope to those prisoners. To the infected. To everyone. That we do not need the slaughters of the Harmonists to live in peace, freedom. That we only need to change the minds of the Enhanceds. Find the cure. Only—”

“Only?” he said. “You’re even more naïve than I was back in the day.”

“I know it seems impossible,” I said. “But with God it can be done. With peaceful resistance, it can be done. It will be done. We will do it.”

“Why do you care so much about Pang?” he asked. “It’s just a small town in the middle of nowhere. How can I trust that you truly care about Pang? How can I trust that you are not a government shill?”

“Because I know what it’s like to be forgotten,” I said. “When Eudora invaded Ireland, the only invasions that mattered were Dublin and Cork. Wexford did not even receive a mention in the news.” I doused the flame blades that seared my veins. “Pang may not matter to the world, but it does to me. Just as much as Wessex. Just as much as the capital.”

The local just stared at me, as if he wanted to trust me, as if he wanted to believe me, because he knew I was right, because he had lived it himself, but fear still shackled his soul, and his eyes glinted of death.

I thought he would tell me something, he even leaned toward me, but he just turned toward Girgor instead and asked him, “Tafda lilu?”

“Definittivament,” he said. “Huwa importanti ħafna għalina, għall-missjoni tagħna, għad-dinja.” He paused for a second. Stared at the floor. “Ħajja tiegħu ha valcato l-ħajja taż-żewġ aktar nies importanti fil-ħajja tiegħi,” Girgor said. “I f'corner bi Ádelanearm, u l-mara tiegħi u iben ħallas il-prezz kif vendetta.”

The local winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not be,” Girgor said. “I regretted it at first. Blamed myself. God. Everyone. But then the Holy Spirit and Our Blessed Mom illuminated me. And I saw the reason. Għan tiegħu kien ferm ogħla minn kwalunkwe wieħed minna seta 'immaġina. Anke innifsu. Wara insibu l-kura, jiena ser tgħidlu.”

“Inti onestament taħseb li hu se ssib l-kura?”

“I do not just think so,” Girgor said. “I know so.”

The local sat. Stayed pensive for a minute. His eyes about to tear up, but forcing the tears inside. His gaze fixed at the fireplace. And then he glanced at his smartwatch. A picture of a woman. His wife, I guessed. Watching over him from Heaven. He then stared at me and took a deep breath. His eyes, not warm fear, but cold hope. Of the hope he had regained. A faint glint, but that sufficed. Even a scióllan sufficed. A mustard seed size. The Lord Himself said it.

“If anyone asks me,” the local said. “You stole my jet and I had nothing to do with your insanity.”

I smiled. “Thank you, that’s—”

“I don’t care for that,” he said. “Just leave before I change my mind.”

“What’s your name?”

“Victims don’t give thieves their names.” He laughed. “Silaluk Qappik.” He then thrust me back. “What are you waiting for? Go steal my jet. I’m not supposed to know.”

“Godspeed, Silaluk.”

He gave Girgor a smartwatch and a healer. And weapons to the both of us. We stepped outside. Back into the blasting wind. Because in Pang, the wind did not whisper. It hollered. “What were you talking about back there?” I asked Girgor. “What did you say?”

“Grown up stuff.”

“I’m getting tired of your condescension,” I said. “I’m twenty-two.”

“When you’re fifty, we’ll talk,” he said. “Because the brain does not even stop growing until you are twenty-five.”

“When I’m fifty, you’ll be dead.”

“Then I guess we will talk in Heaven.” He chuckled.

I just sighed and laughed.

We sprinted to the hamlet’s airport. A narrow strip of land in the south whose snow had been cleared. No one guarded. All soldiers lurked at the base. Girgor and I hopped into Silaluk’s jet and blasted off north. Into Nanisivik. Into the base. Apparently piloting skills were part of training in the Knights.

Gravity hauled my soul to the Earth’s core, as if I were iron and the core a magnet. Because despite my words, I wasn’t entirely sure I could save Pang. But I would not falter. I would accept the consequences of my decisions. Because for all I knew, everyone in Pang would die. And not by bullets or energy blasts. But something even worst. I prayed for the hamlet. And hoped for the best. I would save Pang, even if they did not support a reform for Cael’s Law, because at least they would have been spared. At least Pang would have a chance to live.

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