Many thanks to neuroparenthetical and Alphafemale1965, who edited this story.
This is a story about exploration and discovery. It is about getting there, not being there.
***
Winter is a desolate and remote world. It is small and as frigid as they come. It has always been isolationist and every bit as ignorant, disdainful and disinterested in the outside as the outside has been in it.
For the longest time, Winter maintained that no humans lived in the stars. It took a lot of time, and a lot of persuasion -- not all of which was gentle -- for the greater nations of Winter to acknowledge that `the outside' was real. It took even longer to convince them to try to engage with it in any meaningful way. When they did, they sent observers to a select few of humanity's inhabited worlds.
***
The man moves slowly but purposefully through the crowd of people at the party. It's a midday gathering hosted at a large villa. The edifice's large rooms are tall, and have ample windows that let the summer sunlight in.
His name is Roland. He's in his early forties, has dark, short-cropped hair, and is of average height. Today he wears a business suit, as do most of the other men who are attending.
Having just arrived, he's searching the crowd for a certain someone. He meets people he recognizes, and when he does, he stops and says hi, but does not stay in their company long. They're not who he's looking for.
Presently, he exits on one of the many terraces to which the rooms open. He's still accustomed to the bright sunlight from outside and does not squint. The light breeze carries the scent of the sea. He approaches the edge of the terrace to take in as much of the scenic view in front of and below him as he can. The hill on which the villa stands slopes down to a large bay. Its waters are blue, motionless, and dotted with hundreds of small, white boats. The entire horizon is blocked by the wooded hills that surround the bay. Their green color turns bluish-gray in the distance. Towns and villages clutter the shoreline of the bay, though one may take the view that they're just one big city.
Roland doesn't linger on the terrace. He heads back inside and resumes his search. It's not long before he finds the man he has come for. Roland spots him in the company of a middle aged couple, with whom he appears engaged in a light hearted conversation.
The man, Roland's quarry, wears a light blue suit with a white shirt beneath the unbuttoned jacket. His not-so-short hair is black. His face is clear, open, and beautiful. It is more than a little feminine. While his gender and age are both uncertain, his ethnicity is all but impossible. It's as if someone created a composite of all the races, and then, for good measure, threw in a few features found in no race on Earth.
Roland joins the small group and listens patiently to their conversation for a little while before intervening. "Madam, Sir, may I steal the Ambassador from you? His presence is urgently requested in the garden. His absence has caused quite a stir, and only his immediate arrival can prevent it from escalating into a full-blown riot."
The other two smile awkwardly and nod their agreement. Roland leads the man away. The Ambassador is not unaccustomed to being whisked off like this at parties, and allows himself to be carried away from the scene.
"Dear Ambassador," Roland says, "I don't know how you manage to endure such mundane pleasantries with such unwavering grace."
The man smiles. "They were from a neighboring province I plan to visit. I asked them for travel information and recommendations."
Roland takes his arm as they move to another room. "Nonetheless, you can't allow people to monopolize your precious presence." They pass by a table loaded with drinks. "A glass of sparkling wine?"
"I had one already, and I fear it was one too many. Alcohol has a funny effect on me."
"Of course," Roland says. They've reached an uncrowded room, and he stops. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Roland. About six months ago I heard the unlikely rumor that somebody from Winter -- an Ambassador, no less -- had taken residence in the city. Perhaps you'll understand me when I say I found it most improbable. Somebody from Winter on Earth? That would have been a first -- in itself a most remarkable event. But in my city, of all places? It's a beautiful city, granted, but a backwater place, far removed from the centers of power and industry. I dismissed the notion incuriously. When I learned not long afterwards that the rumor was true, I was not just very excited, but also peeved at my unpardonable nonchalance."
The man chuckles before responding. "Mister Roland, I have been on Earth for more than two years now."
"I
know
, Ambassador! In the months since I learned that it was all true, I put my time to good use, trying to correct my unconscionable lapse. I've learned everything I could about your arrival and subsequent activity. Unfortunately, I was no longer in the city when the evidence became undeniable. Business had taken me up North; my company is building a railway line in that desolate land. Soon, I was tied up in work with no possibility of extricating myself. After too long I finally managed to disentangle myself from the quagmire of dealing with countless subcontractors and aggrieved parties and hurried back home to meet the Ambassador of Winter."
The man Roland calls `Ambassador' laughs amicably. "Mister Roland, if you've read anything about my mission to Earth, you know I'm not an ambassador. I'm merely a cultural observer at the behest of the government of one of the several nations on Winter."
"Of course. I do know that."
"I represent nobody from Winter. In fact, I haven't had any contact with the local government since my arrival. I'm here only to collect information about the people of Earth and send it back."
"That's even better. I, too, represent nobody but myself."
The Ambassador laughs again. "Then we understand each other. How can I be of service to you, Mister Roland?"
"Meeting you was already most gratifying, but there's still so much I want to learn about Winter -- and about the only person from Winter on Earth."
"Mister Roland, everything you need to know -- all the answers to all the questions you have about Winter -- can be found at any library."
"And I've been reading voraciously for the last five months. I've read everything I could get my hands on, but some things can only be learned in person. Isn't that why you are here, Ambassador?"
"You are right, Mister Roland. That's precisely why I am here. We have libraries on Winter, too, and they have a lot of information about Earth. Nevertheless, here I stand. Some things you can't learn from books."
Roland studies the stranger's face, which he finds exceedingly seductive. For a long moment he imagines kissing his lips.
"Would you like to step out on the terrace?" he asks. "This day is too beautiful to waste inside."
Outside they are met by the bright summer day. The alien looks over the bay. His dark hair flutters in the wind over his forehead.
"How do you like this area, Ambassador?"
"We don't have anything like this on Winter."
"What do you mean?"
"Good weather lasting for days on end. The sky of my world is usually gray. The air is moist and cold, and fog hangs over the sea."
"How cold is Winter, really? Are the drinks freezing in their cups at the table, as they say? Are you bathing in ice cold water?"
"You'd find it quite frigid, Mister Roland -- only snow and bare rock."
"But you do have a summer?"
"A summer, yes. And plants, trees, forests, and animals -- though the latter are all small in size. We produce enough food to avoid starvation."
"And yet, Winter thrives, doesn't it?"
