Jove leant Eve a shoulder as they parked the snowmobile in the shed, leaving the broken one just outside. Andromeda was right where she'd been when he'd left and Jove couldn't keep his gaze from lingering on the ice drone's curled form.
"I believe our mother instructed you to leave the bot alone," said Eve.
"I'm aware," he said. "She seems set in her decision to keep Andromeda out of the station."
He spoke to Eve, but intentionally raised his voice in hopes that the AI might hear him and consider her options. He was once more conscious of how much he was projecting his own human emotions and sense of self-preservation onto her, but it was a hard habit to break.
"Let's get back inside," said Eve. "I think I can walk on my own if I go slow."
"By all means."
Jove pulled his arm back and Eve gingerly took a few steps through the snow. He started to close the door of the shed, but stopped just before shutting it all the way in a manner that would let it lock. He kicked a chunk of ice in the way to keep the door from blowing open in the wind.
If Andromeda did have a sudden urge to leave the shed and try the odds elsewhere, he'd at least provided her with an avenue of escape. It was a betrayal of his mother's trust, but he felt like it was the right thing to do even though he couldn't articulate why.
He caught up with Eve in the entrance chamber. She was half leaned against the wall with her snow pants sagging at an odd angle and an expression of pain and frustration.
"Fucking hell," she muttered. "I can't get my boots and snow pants off without my knee complaining."
"Lay down for a second," said Jove.
"This is so infuriating. Why can't my body just heal like it used to?"
Jove dropped to one knee next to her and untied her boots. "You'll heal. You just need some time."
"I suppose I have plenty of that, assuming we don't run out of food and fuel."
Jove grunted in agreement and pulled her boots off. Eve lifted her hips, wiggling in a manner that was oddly sexy as he carefully started tugging her snow pants down.
It felt far too similar to stripping a woman before fucking her. Jove tried to avert his eyes for the sake of reducing his growing arousal, but he couldn't make himself do it. He watched Eve and even shared an interesting moment of eye contact as the snow pants came off, with the leggings she had on underneath almost going with them.
"Help me up?" she asked, afterward.
"Give me a second."
He started taking his own stuff off. The entrance chamber door opened before he'd finished. He saw Eve scramble to her feet, suppressing an obvious wince as she came to standing for their mother's inspection.
"How bad was it?" asked Kira.
Jove and Eve glanced at each other.
"The snowmobile," Kira added.
"Probably fixable," said Jove. "I don't know enough about them to know for sure but nothing major seemed broken."
"Let's hope so," said his mother. "With that one operable, we'll have three, with one that still needs some engine work bringing us up to four if we can fix it. Four snowmobiles, four family members. It gives us some options."
"Options to do what?" asked Eve. "Ride to Port Sirius and see if they've resorted to cannibalism yet?"
"Among other things." Kira flashed a dark and surprising smile. "Port Sirius isn't the only Antarctic base. Most of the others would require serious planning to reach, along with days of travel at the minimum. But in theory, we could make the trip if we had a good enough reason to."
"Doesn't the inverse also hold true?" asked Jove. "Couldn't anyone else in these bases reach us if they were similarly compelled to make the trip?"
"Assuming they knew we were here, yes," said Kira. "That's the situation we're in. More than likely, it's still far preferable to what we'd be facing in terms of danger if we were in a truly populated area."
"That seems debatable," said Jove.
"Are you looking for a debate, Jovian?" His mother's voice had that edge to it again, authoritative almost to the point of goading.
Jove sighed and shook his head. "Where's Aster?"
"In the sauna," said Kira.
He opted to spend some time in his room, finally cracking open one of the paperbacks stashed away presumably by a long since departed researcher. Setting the wallscreen next to his bed to display the scene and sound of a crackling fire, he curled up and did some reading.
Out of nowhere, his phone vibrated. Jove's breath caught in his throat as the implications of receiving a text or even just an email in the wake of the disaster resonated through him. He turned the phone's screen on and furrowed his brow.
It was a notification from Vertimon. Apparently, it was possible to send items and messages to nearby players. Eve had sent him a Super Potion, along with a note that simply said Thanks.
He let out a breath, feeling an odd smile creeping onto his face. Somehow, a single digital item paired with a thanks felt more meaningful than a few years of Eve's less enthused Christmases added together.
She'd always had a high threshold for expressing any amount of true sentiment. Jove thought about her knee, how discouraged she'd been at the idea of not being able to keep skiing.
None of them had much anymore. He expected the reality of their isolation would soon impress that upon all of them, the lack of creature comforts and activities and outlets. They had each other, whatever they could scavenge, and whatever they'd brought with them. Jove knew his sister well enough to know that for Eve, skiing was sanity.