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And where there were hot springs, there were microbial mats. At least, in all the natural hot springs Sazahk had ever seen. He stuffed his sleeping bag into his pack, light green engulfing his fingers. The discoveries waiting over that ridge were things he had only ever dreamed of.
“Eat something.”
Sazahk glared at the tube of protein paste Garin held out to him, then looked up at the man himself. Stubble darkened his jaw and his brown hair stood up from sleep, but his eyes glared at Sazahk as alert and stern as ever. Every morning protein paste, every night ration bars.
Cyanobacteria, discoveries, hot springs. Sazahk mentally chanted the happy words to himself as he accepted the tube without complaint.
He didn’t want to spend his morning bickering with Garin. He squeezed the dense contents of the tube into his mouth and choked it down with a swig of their precious water. He wanted to spend it collecting bacteria samples, and he would get to. Garin’s stupid protein paste wouldn’t bring him down.
In a matter of minutes, Sazahk had his bag packed. He took special care to stow his most useful supplies in the easily reached pockets of the straps around his hips, so nothing would slow him down as he worked.
Garin glanced at Sazahk’s fingers tapping against his thigh as he crouched down beside the coals. “The hot springs aren’t going anywhere.”
Sazahk scowled. “Neither are you at the rate you’re moving.”
“Give me two seconds, Sazahk,” Garin scowled back. He shoveled dirt over the remnants of their fire.
“To prevent wildfires from raging through a dead desert?”
Garin shot him a look, and Sazahk swept a hand at their surroundings.
“The remaining organic matter is highly flammable, as you’ve clearly demonstrated these past two nights, but there’s not near enough of it to fuel a blaze of any significant magnitude.” Sazahk cocked his head and dropped his hand back to his side. “And even if it did, that might not be such a bad thing. Forest fires are rejuvenating events for ecological systems. They break down dead matter and create rich soil for the next generation of plants. In fact, a fire may be exactly what this landscape needs.”
“We can go now.”
Sazahk tore his eyes away from the dead shrub he’d been picturing engulfed in flames and looked at Garin. He had his thumbs hooked through his pack straps and a single eyebrow raised.
Sazahk spun on his heel. “Wonderful.”
The shrub had had none of the markers of a pyrophytic species, anyway.
Sazahk charged up the ridge, not slowed down by the loose rocks giving way under his boots. He caught himself as he slipped, his fingers digging into the dry dirt as he scrabbled to the edge of the ridge. When he finally reached the top, his heart sang.
“Holy shit,” Garin breathed out beside him with all appropriate reverence.
Colors.
Colors spread out before them as vibrant and wild as a newborn qesh’s skin.
Pools of blue and green dotted the landscape, some small as a plate and some large as lakes. Swathes of brilliant oranges, bright yellows, and deep browns spilled out around them. Pure white mineral buildups covered the ground as though they’d stumbled upon the aftermath of a blizzard. Above it all, steam drifted lazily in the brisk morning air.
Sazahk let out a delighted, disbelieving laugh. “Look at it! Look at it! All this time and no one ever knew.”
“No one ever cared.” Garin watched him with a bemused smile on his thin lips. The smile grew into a chuckle when Sazahk met his eyes, and he nodded toward the valley. “Go on then.”
Sazahk needed no more encouragement. “And they call this place the Dead Zone. Dead!” He slipped and slid down to the nearest swatch of brown. “Does this place look dead to you?”
“It smells dead.” Garin followed more carefully behind him.
Sazahk glanced back to see Garin crinkling his nose. The smell was rather potent, he supposed. He’d barely noticed it, but perhaps that was a failing. He scented the air more deliberately.
“Sulfur,” Garin supplied and Sazahk nodded.
“Yes. It’s interesting that the sulfur smell is so strong. It’s quite common for hot springs, but it still tells us something about their chemical compositions.” Sazahk approached a steaming blue pool so vivid it looked fake.
“Don’t get too close,” Garin called, quickening his pace the last few steps down the ridge to catch Sazahk. “It’s hot.”
Sazahk rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s hot. It’s a hot spring heated by magma from the very core of this planet. I know it’s hot.” He kneeled and gazed at the glistening, grooved microbial mat fed by the warm water overflowing from the blue pond. “But it’s alive.”
