Chapter 4: Safehouse

The moon was rotating, the system’s sun dropping below the horizon, and along with it the temperature. They had been walking all day, Boyd’s feet were blistered and sore, and oddly the Polar seemed to be making better progress than he was. She was evolved for this kind of environment, covered in insulating fat and fur that allowed her to tolerate the freezing cold without an environment suit. His power was getting low however, the heating elements in his suit had to consume more and more electricity in order to keep up with the dropping temperature and he wasn’t producing enough kinetic energy to replenish it as quickly as it was being expended. He was in danger, but he didn’t want to let Lorza know that.

“We need to camp for the night,” he said, “find some shelter and get a few hours of sleep. We won’t get far if we exhaust ourselves.”

“It’s getting colder,” she said, “even I can feel it. We should find a cave or build a shelter out of snow to trap as much heat as we can.”

“Like an igloo?”

“I don’t know what that is, ‘igloo’, but an ice cave would work. Judging by the terrain there should be caves and maybe even rock formations beneath the snow.”

“How can you tell?”

She gave him a sideways glance as he walked beside her, his feet sinking deeper into the snow than her wide paws despite their difference in weight, spreading her mass like a camel walking on sand.

“It’s my job, remember? I’m a cartographer. I’m also a Polar, and we learn survival young. The skills are passed down from generation to generation so that each member of our society can be self-sufficient if need be. We can all hunt, build shelters, whatever we need to do to survive in the tundra. You’ve never met a Polar before?”

“I’ve met Borealans before, I know of Polars in passing.”

“You’ve met Equatorials, we Polars are very different.”

“Well, you can tell me your life story when we find shelter, let’s split up and search the area. Don’t get outside of shouting distance.”

She sneered and headed off into the snow drifts, he seemed to have offended her but Boyd had no interest in hearing about the particulars of her subculture or whatever it was, he didn’t feel any desire to know her any better than he already did.

They searched for a while before Boyd finally found a cave, a narrow hole in the snow that was lined with blue ice, the tunnel extending down into gloom. He felt a pang of fear, imagining another octopus monster shooting out to ensnare him in its tentacles, but it didn’t appear to reach underwater. He called Lorza over, and after a moment she appeared over a snow drift and strode down to crouch beside him.

“It’s small,” she complained, “I’m not sure I can fit.”

“Well, try, because this is the best we’re getting. I’m a little wary of native animals after ... y’know ... so let’s be cautious.”

Boyd turned sideways and slipped into the mouth of the cave, more of a crack in the ice than a round opening, then slid down into a larger chamber. He couldn’t see much, but the cave was shallow and there were no branching tunnels, so he called for Lorza to join him. He was cast into total darkness as she plugged the crack with her bulk, completely filling the hole, and Boy’d could hear her struggling as her claws raked against the ice.

“God damn,” he laughed, “you must need ten thousand calories a day just to maintain an ass that fat.” She snarled in response, but she was stuck fast and couldn’t do anything about his taunting. Somehow making fun of her made him feel better, helped him let off steam, and so he continued. “I’m surprised you didn’t eat all of the ration packs already, if we had some butter I could grease you up, but you’d probably just eat that too.”

She growled and heaved, finally freeing herself, light flooding in behind her as she slid down into the cave on her face. He laughed at her as she rose to her feet, crouching a little under the low ceiling, shaking herself to throw the ice and snow from her fur. She sprayed him with it, the slush getting his mouth and eyes and making him splutter. Now it was her turn to laugh as he doubled over to spit out the powder, pulling a solitary white hair from his mouth and wiping it on his suit in disgust.

“Can you not do that outside?”

She walked past him, planting her furry palm on his face and pushing him over as she went, dropping her backpack as Boyd sat on the ice and fumed. She withdrew a rolled up mass of black fabric, her sleeping bag, and laid it out on the floor. It was massive, as big as she was, and heavily padded with insulation. He watched as she slipped inside it and turned away from him to face the wall. After a few moments of silence he scooted over to her pack that was resting on the ground beside her, and unzipped it to rummage inside. He was hungry and he wanted his share of their MREs.

“Hey, where are the damned MREs? Did you put them in my pack or yours?”

“The MREs?” She asked, rolling over to face him, only her furry head visibleinside the sleeping bag.

“Yeah the food,” he reiterated, his stomach growling. “You didn’t really eat them, did you?”

“Yes, I told you that I needed more calories.”

“Six!? You ate six whole MREs that were supposed to last us both a week, in one day?” He stood and kicked her sleeping bag, leaping backwards as she swiped at his legs with her clawed hand, reaching out of her bag to grab at him. “You glutton, what the hell are we supposed to do now? What are we going to fucking eat? That was like eighteen thousand calories, nine thousand of those were mine!”

She seemed nonplussed, as if he should have known that she would eat them, and that his rage was unjustified. Boyd wouldn’t die, he had UNNI issue tablets in his aid kit that would provide him with all of the nutrients necessary to keep his body functioning, at least for a time. Lorza hadn’t known that when she had eaten the rations, and he had wanted to save the tablets for when they ran out of food. She could forget about sharing them now, he wasn’t even going to tell her that he had them.

He shuffled over to the other side of the cave and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to get some sleep.

He awoke to an alarm, his oh-bis monitor flashing orange warning symbols that lit up the walls and ceiling of the ice cave, his suit had run out of power and he could feel the cold creeping in. He was already shivering, and he wrapped his arms around himself in a futile effort to trap heat, the clothing having little more insulation than a scuba suit without its charge. It was below freezing, if he didn’t find a source of heat soon he would quickly go into hypothermia, and there was only one in range.

He crawled over to Lorza’s sleeping bag on his hands and knees, and nudged her awake.

“Lorza, I need your sleeping bag, my suit ran out of power and I’m freezing.” His teeth were chattering as he spoke, he loathed to ask her for help but without it he wouldn’t survive the night. “Come on, you’re furry, let me have the bag.”

She rolled over to look at him, her blue eyes reflecting the light from his wrist, not asleep after all apparently. She was shivering too, even through her layers of insulation and the cocoon of the sleeping bag.

“You can’t have it, it’s too cold, even for me.”

“I’ll die,” he snarled, “get out of that bag before I-”

Her hand shot out of the sleeping bag, taking his arm in an iron grip, he tried to pull away but he was too damned cold. He felt sluggish, his strength sapped, the cold draining his energy. She was strong, her fingers were digging into his arm, though she was careful to avoid cutting him with her hooked claws.

“We’ll never survive the night on our own, our only chance is to combine our body heat.”

Boyd’s eyes widened and he used the last of his strength in a desperate bid to break free of her, but it was futile.

“I am ‘not’ getting in that fucking sleeping bag with you ... you ... you fucking overgrown housecat! I’d rather freeze to death.” She began to drag him closer, many times stronger than Boyd, who was unable to resist as she unzipped the bag with her free hand and drew him inexorably closer. “No! You fat fuck! Let go of me!” She reached out and wrapped her furry hand around his respirator, muffling his protests and manhandling him into the sleeping bag. She pushed him in upside-down, holding his ankles so that he couldn’t kick her in the face.

“Keep still mudak,” she growled, “this is the only option we have!” She was right of course, he was already warming, squirming ardently as her thighs pressed against his cheeks. She was wearing her overalls, but they had been torn during the crash and some of her white fur protruded to tickle his face. She smelled odd, musky like an animal, it might not have been unpleasant were he not so enraged. “Stop trying to kick me or I’ll crush your head between my thighs like a melon,” she snarled.

That got his attention, and he slowed his struggling, knowing that she was right but not wanting to admit defeat.

“You smell terrible,” he complained, “when was the last time you bathed?”

“There ... aren’t any showers big enough for me on the ship, ok? Now keep quiet and go to sleep.”

“Yeah, being unconscious is probably the best option for me right now.” She pressed her massive thighs around his head, probably teasing, but he didn’t want to test her resolve. He was warming now, her body was giving off an enormous amount of heat, and for the first time since they had crashed on the moon he felt that the cold was being driven away rather than simply being kept temporarily at bay.

“You can turn rightside up if you’re going to behave,” Lorza grumbled. Boyd shifted inside the bag, spacious by human standards, and turned himself around so that his feet were towards the bottom. He stuck his head out of the opening at the top of the sleeping bag, his hair brushing against Lorza’s furry cheek. The chill air pricked his face, and so he retreated a little, rolling away from his companion so that his back was to her.

“Stop wriggling,” she complained. “Get settled, you’re keeping me awake.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re fat enough to fill the entire sleeping bag, it looked large enough for ten people until you got inside it.”

He could feel her ample chest pressing against his back, contained within her form-fitting suit but no less distracting, they were larger than his damned head. Whenever he shifted positions, he sank into the pliant fat, her heavy breathing making the enormous globes rise and fall softly.

“C-Can you turn over,” he stammered, “your chest is touching me.”

He felt her warm breath ruffle his hair as she laughed at him.

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes! Just get your boobs off me, at least keep your fat on your side of the sleeping bag.”

“This is ‘my’ sleeping bag, you’re a guest in my bag, so show some respect mudak.”

“What does that mean, ‘mudak’? You keep calling me that. Is it some Borealan insult?”

“No,” she said, her hot breath on his scalp making him squirm with discomfort. “It’s Russian, it means ‘child’.”

“I’m an adult,” he protested, and she laughed at him again.

“No you’re not, you’re a tiny little child, a little bald juvenile.”

“I’m also an appropriate weight for my height, how about that?”

She sighed and rolled over, almost forcing him out of the bag with her sheer mass, the two of them lying back to back. Her long, fluffy tail draped over his legs like a snake, and he kicked it away with his foot.

“Damn it, stay on your own side!”

She didn’t reply, and after a while her breathing made it sound as if she had fallen asleep. It had been a good call, between the two of them the sleeping bag was filled with warmth, thawing both his frigid body and his cold mood. He could move his fingers again, and the heat was making him sleepy. He could feel her ass on his legs, it was like resting on a beanbag full of fat, but he ignored the distraction and tried to get some rest. Her tail flicked occasionally, like a dog that was dreaming, but before long he had drifted off into a deep sleep.

Boyd was awoken by movement, and he opened his eyes, recoiling as Lorza practically sat on his head in her attempt to escape the sleeping bag. She crouched over him, her great thighs on either side of his body, then crawled upwards and out. The bag was flooded with freezing air, and Boyd hastily reactivated the heating element in his suit, which had recharged a little overnight. She lifted the bag effortlessly, with Boyd still inside it, and shook it to disgorge him unceremoniously onto the cave floor.

“God damn it,” he complained, rising to his feet and brushing himself off. “How about a fucking wake up call next time, you animal?”

“Like I said, my sleeping bag,” she smirked. She rolled it up and knelt to return it to her backpack, then slung it over her shoulder. “You ready to set off?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he grumbled, retrieving his own pack from the far wall.

“Is your fancy suit working now? You don’t need me to hold you in my big strong arms to keep you warm like I did last night, mudak?”

“I remember you forcing me to join you against my will, but yes, it’s working.”

“Those things can’t be cheap, I’m surprised you were able to afford something like that on a miner’s salary, mister Jones.”

“Let’s just go.”

They walked up the incline to the mouth of the cave, Boyd slipping a little on the ice, Lorza used the claws on her feet for leverage and made it to the crack before he did.

“This should be good,” Boyd cackled as she hooked her fingers around the edges of the crack, preparing to pull herself through. She gave him a sour look over her shoulder, then heaved herself forward. The cave went dark again as she plugged the hole with her bulk, Boyd raising the brightness on his oh-bis display to watch her struggle. She was stuck fast again, and he laughed as her clawed feet scrabbled against the floor, her long tail waving in the air.