The lifepod’s walls are rattled by the howling blizzard outside, blasting its way across the barren ice plain. But inside, the occupants are quite warm. They sit about, a soft jazz piano filling the space with an effortless calm, reading or dozing. One rests his head on another’s shoulder. They don’t have much beyond what they need; power from the nuclear generator, a long store of entertainment, food and material fabricated by the syphon that extends into the frigid world below them. Rescue is a long way off, maybe as long as ten years, so they’ve done their best to get comfortable. And they have quickly learned that the shared quiet of each other’s company is the best way to let the days roll by.
Paddy Dobson
23rd December 2020