"Get away from the window, Masha. Cold seeps through the glass." Anya was tightening a bolt on their last functioning air scrubber. Her fingers were clumsy with fatigue.
"Careful," Anya said, grabbing her sister's shoulder. "The last time the engineer touched it, he got frostbite on his retina." Anya-10 Masha-8-Lsm-43
And LSM-43? The log never specified.
"But LSM likes it when I listen. It tells me stories about the old ocean under the ice." "Get away from the window, Masha
Anya was ten years old, but she carried the weight of seventeen. Her hands, already chapped and scarred, were the ones that patched the hydroponic seals and calibrated the water recycler. She had the sharp, tired eyes of someone who had read the outpost’s entire emergency manual twice. She was the "big one." "Careful," Anya said, grabbing her sister's shoulder
To the outside world, that was all that remained of Outpost Krylov. Three cold signatures on a screen. But inside the creaking, frozen dome, they were a family of sorts.