7-Prax
Neela suddenly looks at me like I’ve just turned into a monster. I think she’s realized her vegetable soups won’t keep me satisfied for long. But I hope she didn’t imagine I was planning to put her on the menu. I mean—come on—I’m civilized! Well… I wouldn’t mind tasting her in another way, but definitely not the one she’s worried about.
I still haven’t said a word. Just a few nods and some inquisitive looks here and there. This projection told me pretty much everything I needed to know. I actually understood all of it perfectly. Azkarra had already given me a quick rundown, which I mostly ignored since I hadn’t planned on ever stepping foot on this frozen wasteland.
But now? I’m paying very close attention.
First off, my pretty little host isn’t twelve. She’s close to twenty-five Polarian years—the galactic standard. That’s more or less equivalent to Sadjim or Earth years, if I got that right. Whew. So the curiosity she stirs in me isn't inappropriate. And when I say curiosity, I mean just that. I find her interesting. That’s all. Right?
What really matters now is that I saw plenty of small animals in that video. That’s good news. Should be enough to keep my stomach from caving in. The lake where I crashed might even hold a few fish. But how do I ask her to take me back there without giving myself away?
I walk up to the wall screen and freeze the video on the part zoomed into that area they call Cydonia.
“That’s the center of our community,” she explains. “It stretches out over several miles. Kiran’s house is here, just outside the main hub. And mine is here—higher up!”
She zooms in on the forest, pointing to a tiny greenish square. That must be her roof. Her gestures are clear. We’re standing right in that spot. Perfect. Remote. Discreet.
I zoom out and scan the surroundings. Looking for the lake. There’s a vast white patch that might be the one.
“You’re right. That’s where you crashed,” she says, miming a chaotic descent.
Maybe I should speak up, save her the trouble of this mime routine. It's starting to look a bit ridiculous. She’s definitely going to hold it against me later.
But for now, I just zoom in on the crash zone and start memorizing the route. I’ll need to go back to retrieve a few things. Too bad this isn’t the Bakartia—Azkarra would’ve run a full scan, and I’d know the lake’s size and the exact depth of the wreck.
Doesn’t matter. I’ll manage. I just can’t do it alone—I need someone to stop the ice from reforming while I’m under there.
I turn toward Neela and lock eyes with her. Those dark, stormy eyes of hers…
“You want to go back there?” she asks, sharp as ever.
I nod and hold her gaze.
“But there’s nothing left. I already went there—that’s how I found your bag. There was nothing else!”
She pauses, then sighs, catching herself.
“Oh, right. I’m such an idiot, talking to you like you understand French. Let’s try English.”
She switches languages mid-sentence.
“Okay, I’ll take you there!”
Although my implant immediately switches to this new dialect, I stay just as unresponsive as before.
I can clearly see how much it infuriates this tiny woman.
Then her gaze slowly travels down my body… all the way to my bare feet.
That visual brush unexpectedly stirs something in me. And let’s just say I’m suddenly very thankful I ditched that stupid towel earlier. It would’ve done a terrible job hiding my... reaction.
Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s focused on my lack of footwear.
“I don’t have a suit in your size. And forget boots that would fit you. The lake’s several miles away—you can’t go half-naked and barefoot. And Kiran’s nowhere near your build. By the shield of Ares! How am I supposed to fix this?”
She's not wrong—it’s far from ideal. Not that I really need any of it. My fur is thick, and I don't get cold easily.
Still, I remember the thermal shock I felt right after the crash. Probably made worse by the violence of the impact and the insane temperature drop between the core of the Bakartia and the icy valley I got thrown into.
