Anya-10 Masha-8-lsm-43 -

Anya yanked Masha back just as the iris of LSM-43 dilated fully. A beam of pale, liquid light shot out, not hot, but deep . It painted a moving picture on the far wall.

She walked over to the main power conduit, her small hands gripping the emergency cutoff valve. "I'm sorry, LSM-43," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "You can keep your ocean. We're staying in the cold."

"LSM is a machine. It samples isotopes. It doesn't like anything." Anya-10 Masha-8-Lsm-43

Masha was eight, with a mop of strawberry-blonde hair that stuck to her forehead and a habit of talking to the creaking walls. She believed the groaning of the permafrost outside was a white bear trying to tell them stories. She was the "little one."

"Careful," Anya said, grabbing her sister's shoulder. "The last time the engineer touched it, he got frostbite on his retina." Anya yanked Masha back just as the iris

They saw it. A vast, subterranean ocean, lit by hydrothermal vents glowing like red suns. Strange, translucent creatures with ribbon-like bodies danced in the black water. It was beautiful and utterly terrifying.

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." She walked over to the main power conduit,

Now, only Anya, Masha, and LSM-43 remained.