Chapter 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.
But if I’m going to dive under that ice, it’s better to conserve both my body heat and my strength. Even though I’ve pretty much recovered most of my usual abilities, I can still feel the fatigue catching up with me now and then.
And right now is one of those moments—something Neela doesn’t fail to notice.
“All right, time for bed. Go,” she says, pointing to her room.
Too bad that wasn’t an invitation to share her bed.
Still, I shake my head and lie down on the couch, letting her know I’m staying put.
She hesitates, taps the wall screen to dim the lights, and disappears into her room.
I settle comfortably into the couch and fold my hands behind my head.
If I take a moment to assess my situation, things could’ve turned out a whole lot worse. I survived the crash, and I even made it through the brutal adaptation to this planet’s extreme conditions—though I’m still feeling the aftermath.
Right now, I’m being sheltered by a sweet little Human who’s actually kind of funny—especially when she gets nervous and babbles, thinking I don’t understand a word she’s saying.
I’m in a forest, which means I should be able to find food without too much trouble. Yeah... all things considered, I’d say I got pretty damn lucky this time.
My ears twitch. I can hear her moving in the next room—just got out of the bathroom. Her steps are light as she climbs into bed. I wonder if she smells me on her sheets like I smell her on this couch.
Damn. My body’s waking up again. And there’s no way I can take care of this particular problem here, so close to her.
Yeah… this cohabitation thing might not be so simple after all.
***
I wake up groggy, which is unusual. I’m normally a light sleeper.
Neela’s already up, dressed, and busy in the kitchen. She’s opened the wall panels, letting in the soft morning light.
She sets a tray down in front of me—two steaming bowls and a couple of flatcakes.
“Good morning, Prax! I hope you slept well. Here’s breakfast: lemon balm tea and quinoa crêpes.”
I give her a look. That’s it? Hot water and seeds?
“Don’t look at me like that, mister. I know you’re not impressed. But that’s all I’ve got. And you’re picky too! Lemon balm is very good for you. Oh, screw it—I don’t even know why I’m talking to someone who doesn’t understand a word I say!”
I stifle a laugh. Outwardly, I stay neutral. I down the tea in one go and nibble on the crêpe, which tastes like compressed sand.
If I don’t start hunting soon, this woman’s gonna kill me—with fiber.
“Look what I made!” she suddenly exclaims, full of excitement.
Stunned, I stare at what used to be my sleeping pod—now completely transformed into a long coat.
“Uh... I took the liberty of cutting up that fabric from your bag,” she explains.
“I recognized the texture—it's a thermoregulating, waterproof material. It should give you some protection. I sealed the edges, so it should hold. And with the leftover scraps, I made you some shoes... well, more like foot covers. They don’t have soles, so they won’t protect you from sharp rocks, but at least they’ll keep your feet dry. ”
She shifts from foot to foot, clearly unsure how I’m going to react.
I study her handiwork carefully. Not bad. Actually, there’s some solid thinking behind it. Still, I’m going to have to say goodbye to my sleeping pod.
I nod in thanks and start putting it on, along with the makeshift shoes. I’ll ditch them if I need to run, but they might help for now.
As I head for the door, she grabs my arm.
“Where do you think you’re going? The lake?
Wait for me! You don’t even know where it is.
By the shield of Ares, it’s not even eight in the morning and you’re already out the door?
What, you think someone’s gone to play with your sunken ship while you were gone?
You can’t even see it—it’s under the ice!
Ugh. People used to say ‘stubborn as a mule,’ but ‘stubborn as a cat’ works just as well! ”
I watch her getting dressed in a hurry, grumbling the whole time.
Does she always do that—even when she’s alone? Babbling nonstop? What a strange little Human.
Before we leave, I swing by the washroom. I relieve myself quickly and grab a large, dry towel.
I resist the temptation to shower—I'll need it way more when I get back than I do right now.
A few minutes later, I’m sitting behind her on a snowmobile. The cold stings, and I’m actually glad I put on those weird boots.
My sharp eyes catch movement—small animals darting between trees. I say nothing, but my muscles twitch with anticipation. I take mental notes of their locations for later.
We finally stop at the edge of a vast white expanse.
The lake is completely frozen over and stretches out farther than I expected.
There's no way I’m going to locate my wreck under such a massive surface.
A discouraged sigh escapes me.
“Come on, follow me!” my little Human urges as she hops off the bike.
I pull off my boots—they’re more of a hindrance than anything—and follow her out onto the ice.
I grin and run back to shore, Neela right behind me.
I shrug off my coat, hand her the towel and the rope tied to the snowmobile. Then I grab a good-sized rock and head back.
“What are you doing?! Are you insane?” she yells, seeing me smash the ice. “You can’t go in there! The water’s freezing!”
I throw her a smirk and dive through the hole.
She’s right. It’s freezing. But I can’t wait for the thaw. The wreck’s already been down here for days.
I toss her one end of the rope and tie the other around my wrist.
“By the shield of Ares… I’ve found a complete lunatic,” she mutters.
I tap her cheek gently to say, “I got this,” then slip under the surface.
The visibility is awful, even with my night vision. But I get lucky. The Bakartia’s outline appears below. I pull myself down—maybe 30 or 40 feet.
There’s the hatch I used to escape. Still clear.
I surface for air. Neela visibly relaxes. I wink, then dive again.
Inside, it’s a mess. My suit is floating mid-room. My boots are still by my bunk. I open a compartment, grab a weapon and a few protein bars, and stuff everything into the suit.
The rope on my wrist tugs—she’s getting nervous. I head back up, lungs on fire.
As I break the surface, I wheeze hard.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” she scolds, unloading my stuff. “You’re barely recovered, and now you risk your life again? For what? A coat? Mine wasn’t good enough? You could’ve just said so. And by the way, I didn’t mind you being half-naked around the house. Not one bit!”
I say nothing and follow her to the snowmobile. Her words echo in my ears.
Just as we’re about to leave, a low growl rumbles nearby. I know that sound.
I turn. Two golden eyes, just like mine.
“Grrrraorar!” I growl—a universal feline warning.
It works. The snow lynx freezes, then backs away.
“That’s a snow lynx,” whispers Neela. “She’s just protecting her cubs. Your growl was… impressive. At least I know now you’re not mute.”
She keeps talking, despite thinking I don’t understand her. It’s kind of adorable. And I definitely caught her comment about my… minimalist wardrobe.
To be polite, I put on the coat she made. She stashes the wet bundle in the snowmobile, and we head back.
About a mile from home, I signal for her to stop.
I hop off, ears twitching at a faint rustling sound. She starts to speak, but I silence her with a quick gesture.
Wait for it…
A small rodent with white fur cautiously pokes its nose out of a hole. Its curiosity is locked onto the vehicle and its driver. This creature has no basic survival instincts.
I’m the danger here.
In a split second, I lunge and snap its tiny neck.
Small prey, but it’ll do nicely to fill my stomach.
I’m practically drooling, but it’ll taste much better cooked.
But Neela’s horrified expression freezes me.
In a heartbeat, I’m no longer the intriguing guest on her couch—I’m a monster. A killer. Her eyes fill with tears, and she runs.
Great. Welcome to whatever weird community this is.
For a second, I want to bite into the damn thing right in front of her, just to make a point. But I hate getting fur stuck in my teeth.
She leaves me standing there like an idiot.
I walk the rest of the way alone, noting more prey along the way. Whether she approves or not, I’m not living off seeds. Sadjim are carnivores. Or at least we used to be. The protein bars from the Confederation are meatless but highly concentrated.
I skin the rodent, ditch the guts for the local scavengers, clean my hands with snow, and stash the meat outside.
When I step into the house, she’s in the kitchen, fuming. She doesn’t say a word. Neither do I.
But damn, I miss her chatter already.
I open my bag and pull out a compact foldable device: a solar oven. I take it outside, find a good sunny spot, and start cooking my meal.
Back inside, she’s stirring some ridiculously fragrant vegetable stew like she’s taunting me.
“I put your clothes in the garden to dry,” she finally says, not looking at me.
“Same with your boots. Should be dry by tomorrow. In the meantime, you’ll have to wear what I made you.
Also, take a hot shower. Change out of those wet pants.
Unless of course, your hide’s thick enough to handle frostbite! ”
Despite herself, she’s trying to make peace.
Fair enough.
I peel off my soaked pants and reach for the towel she left on the couch.
And that’s exactly when Kiran bursts through the door.
“Oh, come on! Seriously?!” he yells.
Of course he shows up the one second I’ve got my ass out. Perfect timing.