Kinder des Schicksals 4 (Xeelee 9): Resplendent

dully.
    ’Of course not,’ the ghost said gently. ’The tides washed it all
away.’
    She began to pull together armfuls of loose snow. Much of it
melted and evaporated, but slowly she made a mound of it in the
centre of the room.
    ’What are you doing?’
    ’Maybe I can breathe this stuff.’ She knew little about the
flitter’s systems. Maybe there was some hopper into which she could
cram this frozen air.
    But the ghost was talking to her again, its voice gentle but
persistent, unwelcome. ’Your body is continuing to manage the crisis.
Carbohydrates which would normally feed your brain are now being
burnt to generate more heat. Your brain, starved, is slowing down;
your coordination is poor. Your judgement is unreliable.’
    ’I don’t care,’ she growled, scraping at the frozen air.
    ’Your plan is not likely to succeed. Your biology requires oxygen.
But the bulk of this snow is nitrogen. And there are trace compounds
which may be toxic to you. Does your craft contain filtering systems
which - ’
    Minda drove her suited arm through the pile of air, scattering it
in a cloud of vapour. ’Shut up. Shut up.’
    She walked back to the flitter. By now it felt as if she was
floating, like a ghost herself.
     
    The silver ghost told her about the world it came from. It was
like Snowball, and yet it was not.
    The ghosts’ world was once Earth-like, if smaller than Earth: blue
skies, a yellow sun. But even as the ghosts climbed to awareness
their sun evaporated, killed by a companion pulsar. It was a slower
process than the doom of Snowball, but no less lethal. The oceans
froze and life huddled inward; there was frantic evolutionary
pressure to find ways to keep warm.
    Then the atmosphere started snowing.
    The ghosts had gathered their fellow creatures around them and
formed themselves into compact, silvered spheres, each body barely
begrudging an erg to the cold outside. Finally clouds of mirrored
life forms rolled upwards. The treacherous sky was locked out - but
every stray wisp of the planet’s internal heat was trapped.
    Minda wondered if this was true, or just some kind of creation
myth. But the murmuring words were comforting.
    ’My home Conurbation is near a ruined city. A bit like this one.
The ruin is an old pre-Occupation city. It was called Pah-reess. Did
you know that?’
    ’No. It must be a wonderful place.’
    She found she had reached the flitter. She was so cold she wasn’t
even shivering any more. It was almost comfortable.
    She couldn’t lie on the ground. But she found a way to use bits of
debris from the flitter, stuck in the ice, to prop herself up without
having to lean on anything. After a time it seemed easier to leave
her eyes closed.
    ’Your body is losing its ability to reheat itself. You must find
an external source of heat. You will soon drift into
unconsciousness…’
    ’I’m in my eighth cadre,’ Minda whispered. ’You have to move
cadres every two years, you know. But I was chosen for my new cadre.
I had to pass tests. My best friend is called Janu. She couldn’t come
with me. She’s still on Earth…’ She smiled, thinking of Janu.
    She felt herself tilting. She forced open her eyes, frost
crackling on her eyelashes. She saw that the pretty, silvered
landscape was tipping up around her. She was falling over. It didn’t
seem to matter any more; at least she could let her sore muscles
relax.
    Somewhere a voice called her: ’Always protect your core heat. It
is the most important thing you possess. Remember…’
    There was something wrong with the silver ghost, she saw, through
sparkling frost crystals.
    The ghost had come apart. Its silvery hide had unpeeled and
removed itself like a semi-sentient overcoat. The hide fell
gracelessly to the frozen ground and slithered towards her.
    She shrank back, repelled.
    What was left of the ghost was a mass of what looked like organs
and digestive tracts, crimson and purple, pulsing and writhing,
already shrivelling back, darkening. And they revealed something at
the centre: almost like a human body, she thought, slick with pale
pink fluid, and curled over like a foetus. But it, too, was rapidly
freezing.
    All around the subsiding sub-organisms, the frozen air of Snowball
briefly evaporated, evoking billowing mist. And the dormant creatures
of the Snowball enjoyed explosive growth: not just lichen-like
scrapings and isolated flowers now, but a kind of miniature forest,
trees pushing out of the ice and frosted air,