“Smart. I’ll stay at the Cydonia medical unit so I can get there fast.”
“Great. Esteban will escort you through the Palace. We’ll plan it for one of your shifts. I just need to check the menu and brief everyone.”
We go over a few more details before Kiran finally heads back to his unit. He hates being idle, and now that we’ve got a plan, he seems more at peace.
Back inside, I listen. No sound—Prax must still be asleep. Perfect. I fetch a bucket of snow and start melting it to warm.
I hesitate—should I wash up in the kitchen? But modesty wins out, and I head to the greenhouse. I quickly strip down and wash with a damp cloth. It’s nice and warm in here, but still—I don’t love the idea of being naked while Prax is just a few steps away.
Hypocritical, I know. I’ve already stared at him plenty. Purely for scientific observation, obviously.
Back in the kitchen, I’m dressed in a clean tunic when I see him—standing in the rest corner, gripping the couch for balance.
I nearly yelp. He’s wearing a towel—my towel—like a loincloth.I have to suppress a grin. Mister Dignity doesn’t want to appear weak. I respect that. I motion him over to the couch and hand him his bag, now holding his washed and folded pants.
He exhales in relief and gives me a thoughtful look as he pulls them out.
Wait… he’s not about to change right here, is he?
That wicked glint in his eye and the hand on the towel say yes.
I spin around fast and flee into the kitchen, trying not to laugh as he chuckles behind me.
One coral lentil and watercress salad later, I finally look at him again.
He’s dressed now, thank goodness, and the towel’s on the couch. I hand him a full bowl and fill mine with just a scoop.
“I’m not very hungry,” I say when he gives me a look.
Not true—but he needs it more than I do. That body has to run on serious fuel.
I grab my tablet and decide to show him a quick explainer video about Mars.
When the first colonists arrived, they had to adapt, and a simple, informative video was made. The settlers came from all over Earth, so the clip’s in English—the shared language—but it’s super clear. I don’t know if Prax came here on purpose or if he crashed by accident, but either way, he deserves to know where he is.
I play the video and it spreads across the wall.
He sits up instantly, eyes glued to the screen.
There’s a diagram of the solar system, a zoom on the fourth planet, then another zoom into our region—between Arabia Terra and Cydonia.
Then the calendar system: 24-hour days, 7-day weeks, just like Earth. But since Mars takes 687 days to orbit the sun, the Martian year is split into twelve months of 57 days—except for Europe, Analtha, and Himalia, which have 58.
He seems fascinated. The elliptical graph shows how the calendar aligns with orbital positions. I point to our current month: Aitnee, the end of winter. He nods.
Then I show him “Adrastee 40,” Kiran’s birthday, and mimic 14 cycles with little marks—he gets it. Kiran is 14. Which would be nearly double that on Earth.
He points at me now. I smile and show him “Callysto 12,” my birthday, and mark out 12 years.
No need to explain the months are named after Jupiter’s moons.
The video shifts to native Martian life forms. When a snow rabbit pops up, Prax’s eyes ignite, and his focus sharpens.
Just what I was afraid of: he’s a carnivore.
By Ares’ mercy…
How the hell am I supposed to feed him?
