Jove was beginning to like the process of coming inside from the cold. Despite everything else he had on his mind, he couldn't help but watch his mother and Eve as they pulled off their outer layers. Undressing was still undressing, even if they had on a full set of clothing underneath.
The black turtleneck Kira wore had ridden up underneath her jacket and she carefully smoothed it back down into place. Eve had on a thermal long-sleeve shirt with heavy pit stains from the intensity of her earlier skiing. She pulled it up and over her head, shivering out a breath in just a sports bra and leggings.
"Do we still have enough water to wash clothing?" she asked their mother. "Some of my stuff is starting to get a little rank."
"Feel free to forage for clean clothes from anything in the laundry room," said Kira. "There's a lost and found, but there should also be some lockers with clothing left by previous researchers. Not to mention, um, Ryan's clothes."
She glanced at Jove, and he felt a strange weight in her gaze. It annoyed him for reasons that he wasn't sure he understood himself.
The idea of wearing the clothing of the deceased young researcher who his mother had befriended and mentored chafed him, as though he was getting hand-me-downs from someone she wished was there in his place.
"Can we still shower, at least?" he asked, suddenly aware of his own smell.
"I need to check the water recycling system," muttered Kira. "Andromeda usually monitored it."
She let out a long sigh. Jove and Eve followed her into the common area, where Aster was sitting on the couch, bluetooth headset on the seat behind her.
"I still have my doubts about whether the information we're being fed by this AI is accurate," said Aster. "It's possible that the situation isn't as bad as it seems."
Her voice sounded tired and lacking in conviction. Kira narrowed her eyes at her sister, regardless.
"Enough, Aster," she said.
"It will be enough when you start taking my points seriously," said Aster, folding her arms.
Kira sighed and seemed disinterested in engaging in the argument.
"We can't just leave Andromeda out there forever," said Jove.
"Technically, we can," said Kira. "The drone's batteries will eventually deplete without going into sleep mode and deploying its solar panels."
"Her batteries will deplete," he muttered. "She'll die, in other words."
"She isn't a person, Jove," said Kira. "She was never alive to begin with."
"Not to side with my somewhat naive little brother, but there were some compelling arguments in favor of AI personhood kicking about the public discourse," said Eve.
"Fine. It doesn't matter whether she's a person or not, though I would heavily dispute it being the case. Our family has to come first, now more than ever."
Jove didn't say anything. The passive manner in which Andromeda had accepted her sentence still didn't sit right with him.
"You told me that you were close with Andromeda," he said.
"I am." His mother looked at him, eyes serious, but restrained. "This is far harder for me than I think you realize. I have to account for my own feelings and how they might sway my judgment in making this decision."
Aster let out a small snort. "You sound like the AI when you phrase it like that. No offense."
"None taken," said Kira, voice irritated. "I need to perform an accounting of Termina's systems. I'd forgotten how many were automatically tended to by Andromeda and want to make sure I haven't forgotten anything critical."
She left the common room. Jove folded his arms and glanced at Eve and Aster. His relationship with both women had shifted. It was a subtle change between him and Eve, grudging respect paired with newly refreshed competitiveness.
The vibe between him and his aunt felt outright dangerous after the previous night. Jove noticed how Aster wouldn't meet his gaze and felt his annoyance suddenly spike to an unbearable level.
"I'm going to work out," he said.
"It's a free country," muttered Eve. "Or continent, at least."
"Have fun, darling," said Aster. "Don't work up too much of a sweat."
His aunt's voice had a teasing edge to it that was as exciting as it was frustrating. She was resolute in her claim to not remember the sex. Jove expected that he could only take so much more of her teasing before starting to lose his mind.
His workout was one of pent up energy and emotion. His family's situation, the scale of the destruction, the forbidden memory of railing his aunt in the sauna…
It all bled together into raw motivation to bang out reps and sets. He wasn't in bad shape, but he remembered a time when he'd been more athletic. His entire world had shrunk down to Termina Station and he wasn't about to become complacent.
He thought about Andromeda, outside in the cold shed, alone. He knew he was giving into the temptation to humanize the AI. He doubted she felt emotions in the same way humans did, or even the temperature.
He was still lost in his thoughts as he headed for the bathroom and started taking his clothes off for a shower. Looking in the mirror, he touched where the cut had been on his forehead, now just a trace of a scab.
"Jovian."
"Jesus!" He spun around in surprise, but his mother's voice had come from an overhead speaker. "What is it?"
"Water rationing is in effect," she said. "You'll have 90 seconds of shower time, so be quick."
"Does that include letting the water heat up?" he asked.
She didn't answer, and he soon discovered that it did. The actual bathing stage of his shower mostly occurred after the water had been cut off, scrubbing with a damp washcloth to get somewhere resembling clean.
He was surprised by how little he minded it. If it meant keeping his family safe, he could endure sacrifices and rationing. He thought about Andromeda again and wondered if his mother's reasoning was similar, sacrificing the AI for the sake of what she saw as their safest path forward.
Heading back to his bunk, Jove put on his clothes. Eve's earlier comments about washing clothing seemed relevant as he took a whiff of his wardrobe's growing musk. He only had a pair of jeans, a pair of track pants, two long sleeve t-shirts, and a hoodie. Assuming he only acquired salvaged clothing from that point forth, they might well be the last clothes he ever owned that really fit him.