I
could see them kilometers away. North America's infamous glaciers.

            As
the heli-plane made its final descent, I narrowed my tired eyes to see clearer
out the window, only for my muzzle to blur the momentary view. Some of us woke
up in awe at the sight. I could see the outline of an Outpost and the tall
ruins contrasting the endless tundra. A younger passenger, one who'd never been
onboard one of these, let alone flown before, murmured to her tired mother at the
distant glaciers. Before I could hear the rest of it though, the plane slowed
mid-air and floated down onto the landing pad.

            “Good
morning, ladies, gentlemen and anthroids, and welcome to the St. Louis Glacial
Outpost, the 'Gateway to the North'. Mind the gap when exiting the aircraft."

            A 'Gateway
to the North'. From what I learned in my training courses, this wasn't always
the case Before St. Louis, Denver held that honorable title, preceded by
Chicago, then Minneapolis, Seattle and Edmonton over a few millennia. All of
them eventually abandoned by the encroaching mountains of ice and snow.

            Walking
out of the heli-plane with a suitcase in paw, the freezing temperatures
immediately slapped my muzzle. I hurried inside the terminal, where the
scanners confirmed my identity, before finally finding the small airport's
entranceway.

            A
mini-drone hovered towards me as my holographic name appeared. “Welcome to St.
Louis, Ms. Vale." a voice greeted. “You're the last anthroid to arrive this
morning."

            “Sorry
about that," a sigh escaped my breath. “Flight got delayed."

            My
name disappeared from the air. “Come with me."

            I followed
the mini-drone out into the cold outside, and entered an articulated bus parked
a stone's throw away. Part of me couldn't help but stare at the robotic sphere
before it reconnected to its charging station; these types of mini-drones were the
same ones used for either expedition reconnaissance or policing cities within
the Equatorial Safe Zone.

            Inside
the vehicle, I set my suitcase on the top compartment and found an empty seat.
Beside the window sat another anthroid wearing an ESZ uniform, this one Snow
Leopard Class instead of Arctic Fox. He had to be older though, with a scar
almost invisible under his greying fur. My tail wagged nonetheless, and I
couldn't help but offer a paw upon sitting beside him.

            “Pleasure
to meet another one," I spoke to him. “I'm Rosana Vale. Junior archaeologist."

            Surprised
at first, the middle-aged feline contently shook my paw.

            “Dr. Lucas
Mendoza, chief archivist and—"

            “—first
human to be turned into an anthroid…" I finished for him, freezing in my spot
before the bus jolted forward. “Y-You're the
Dr. Mendoza?"

            He
chuckled lightly. “I take it you're a fan of my work?"

            “A
fan?" I nodded and giddily laughed. “You're the reason I volunteered to become
an archaeologist anthroid. I-I was inspired by you as a cub to join Project
Atlantis!"

            Having
been raised and trained in São Paulo my entire life, I'd only seen images of
the Northern Hemisphere before and during the glaciers. Most photos were lost
due to the devastation of famine and warfare, but a few relics showed how much
humanity thrived in the North. And among the history vids I watched were those detailing
the adventures of Lucas Mendoza. Close to four decades ago, he became the first
human to successfully be genetically engineered into a full-bodied anthroid.
Beforehand, animal and machine augmentations were only possible in some
respects, until Mendoza volunteered to be the first test subject for
experimental animal/android amalgamation.

            Why,
do you ask? For science, and the chance to fully explore the Northern
Hemisphere without human limitations. It wouldn't be long until anthroids
became the norm for expeditions.

            “Well
then," he smiled, his spotted tail wagging at our ankles. “I'm honored to know
my work has inspired many. Thank you for dedicating yourself to coming up
here."

            “It
is our duty to understand humanity's past," I commented. “And this is exciting.
I've never been this far up North before. It's…colder than I expected."

            “Yes,
yes," Dr. Mendoza agreed, “but wait until you visit the Chicago site, young
one. When you come back, then you can tell me how cold it really is."

            While
we discussed various topics, from our lives to the recent cavern found under
the London glaciers, my eyes occasionally glanced out the window. We passed the
legs of the city's archway (long since collapsed) along the frozen river.
Towering buildings and half-collapsed structures, some of them either in
pristine condition or nothing but rubble, remained of the once-populated city.
Instead, its residents stayed in dwellings circling the Outpost, which came
into view minutes later. A few of the humans, wrapped in coats and carrying
ancient rifles, stared at the passing bus in intrigued awe.

            Although
an evacuated region, bands of nomadic humans still called the North their home.
I remember how me and a few trainee anthroids watched news vids in our downtime,
and whenever a story came up involving a nomad attacks, my colleagues mocked them
for living in hunter-gatherer enclaves outside the Equatorial Safe Zone. Far
from safety and modern society.

            “Oh,
yeah, the humans," Dr. Mendoza must've noticed my distraction, and turned just
in time to see a young girl with a stick, waving at us. “Curious, isn't it?
Their ancestors were unwilling to leave centuries ago, and they still won't
leave with the glaciers incoming. My superiors see them as stubborn." He turned
to me curiously. “What of you, Ms. Vale?"

            Blinking
at his question, I looked back out to see the girl replaced by more permafrost
tundra, and the shining titans of ice in the distance. I wondered if someday
the glaciers would finally reach these ruins. Or if the ancestors of these
remaining humans saw the future and knew the North would be ours again one day.

            Unfortunately,
we arrived at the Outpost moments later, and I forgot my answer once everyone
started exiting the bus.