“And what exactly do you suggest? Gonna loan him one of your pairs of pants? Oh wait—nope. Too small. And I’m not even talking about the length.
And ordering a larger size is completely out of the question—we’d have to explain why. And we both agreed we’re keeping his presence secret for now, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe you could sign up for one of those crafting workshops? Wouldn’t surprise anyone if you messed up the sizing.”
“What a great idea. You go ahead and do that! Especially since you’re off next week—I’m the one working.”
Kiran’s face darkens at the reminder.
“Speaking of which, what are you planning to do with him now that he’s conscious? He can’t just stay here alone.”
“Why not? What exactly are you afraid of? That he’ll plow through my lentil supply in a day? Even if he did, he needs to rebuild his strength—he hasn’t eaten properly in days. The broths I managed to get into him don’t really count.”
“Well, since we’re on the subject, his presence raises another issue: your rations are meant for one person. Even your hydroponic garden can’t sustain a second mouth. Same goes for water and showers. How are you planning to handle that?”
Ah, crap.
Didn’t even think about that this morning while I was washing up—that I’d be stealing her one daily pleasure. Oops.
“I’m working at the med unit next week. There’s a backup shower there for emergencies. I’ll wash there. And if I really have to, I’ll melt some snow and do things the old-school way.”
Snow?
In a flash, I remember the crash, the frozen lake, the mountain almost entirely cloaked in white. Sure, showers in the Confederation are all set to a strict three-minute limit—that’s the max duration based on spacecraft recycling capacity.
There’s no water in space. Nothing is lost, nothing is created. Shower water gets reclaimed from... other bodily fluids, purified and reused. That’s how the limits were calculated and why the cycles are standardized.
These same restrictions apply to terraforming worlds—since water is life, and wasting it is out of the question.
But if Mars has snow in abundance? That restriction starts to feel pretty pointless.
As soon as I’m able, I’ll lift that limitation on the shower in this place. I’ve worked with enough Confederation systems to know exactly how they’re programmed—and how to reprogram them.
“Alright, we’ll play it by ear,” Kiran says, giving in. “I’ll try to bring you some extra supplies.”
“Absolutely not,” Neela snaps. “There’s no way you’re taking food from your family. We don’t even know if our food’s compatible with him.”
The little Human’s right. If her plan is to slowly poison me—or torture me like her brother suggested—all she needs to do is keep feeding me boiled vegetables.
A clean crime. No evidence.
To my utter dismay, a yawn slips out of me, and my whole body stretches out, aching for a proper nap.
“Come on,” Kiran says, sighing. “Let the cat-man finish his night. We’ll talk in the other room.”
If I were at full strength, I’d try to eavesdrop.
But I’m exhausted. Worn out. Drained.
And ashamed of it, I let sleep take me again.
6-Neela
My brother is worried. Everything about his stance says so. And honestly? I get it. Prax—because that’s his name—is dangerous. His appearance says it, his size shouts it… not to mention the weapon I found in the waterproof bag he had with him.
When I went back to the site of his crash, the ice had completely reformed, covering the impact point for good. I wandered across the lake, gathering the scattered remains of his vehicle, tracing a path across the white surface. All the way to this tiny rock, barely sticking out of the snow.
What would’ve happened if that rock hadn’t been there? He probably would’ve crashed into the mountainside a few dozen yards further. But who really knows?
