Gavin and Maybell sat together in a corner of one of Mu-Beta-Prime's largest underground storerooms. It was what Gavin called his home during the two-week summer cycle. Xenon-laced plastic tissue lined the cavern walls, offering protection from their solar star, Cervantes, as it baked the landscape topside with deadly radiation. The two friends, along with the hodge-podge of humanity who called this bleak moon their home, waited out the summer for the cycle they called winter. That was when their mother planet, MuArae-Beta, would position itself between them and Cervantes, blocking the solar rays. They could then crawl out onto the surface, and go about their so-called lives.

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At least until Cervantes showed its face again two week later, to chase them underground for another summer cycle.

Gavin munched on spacefruit rations while lounging on his bunk. "Why do you even hang out here?" he asked his red-haired friend. "On Mu-Beta-Prime, I mean?"

Maybell shrugged while slouching in a nearby folding chair. A thin smile crossed her lips.

"I like you," she teased.

Gavin snorted. "Yeah. Sure. That's why."

He reached towards her with the bowl of spacefruit, offering some to her. She obliged by plucking out a fake pear.

"Why are you here?" she countered, crunching a big bite.

Gavin laughed while choosing a space grape for himself. "The Dirters on this mudball have low expectations. I get appreciated for pretty much doing bollocks."

"Bull crap," Maybell said, laughing back at him. "You do everything for them. The settlement would crumble to the dust if not for you." Gavin shrugged as she continued. "You know I'm right. Even Bobcat depends on you to keep him fed while we ride out the summer."

Gavin breathed heavy on the fact, examining the skin of his fake grape. While Maybell crunched on her pear, waiting for him to respond, he meticulously peeled his grape.

"The work is easy enough," Gavin said to the grape before eating it. "And the pay is good. What more could you ask?"

After a moment of silence, and another grape, Gavin stared at Maybell. She'd been glancing at the seams in the Xenon plastic that covered the walls and ceiling. It was all that kept the more stubborn particles of solar radiation from penetrating her body, and the bodies of everyone else who lived on Mu-Beta-Prime. With a private sigh, Gavin entertained the thoughts that all creatures who had human DNA in them would think when Maybell was on their mind.

She was sexually delectable. Her musculature was strong, yet her feminine curves were a delight. Though mostly timid by nature, her carnal appetite was ferocious.

And every single day, no matter what she chose to do, she looked good enough to eat.

Yet as one of her best friends, Gavin also knew that, unless Maybell bathed or showered every day, she smelled worse than day-old fish. Not that any fish ever made it out to the God-forsaken sector of space where Mu-Beta-Prime circled in its orbit. To make matters worse, water was so precious on this barren moon that no one could afford to take many baths or showers, especially while riding out the summer underground.

"You never answered my question," Gavin said, once Maybell eyes came down from the plastic, and back onto him.

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Maybell pursed her lips. She slouched down further in her chair, tucking the hand not holding her pear into the waistband of her chaps.

"I don't like questions," she replied.

Gavin became irritated. He set his bowl of spacefruit rations on the foot of his bunk before speaking.

"Damn you, Polecat. I hate it when you put on this act. You always say that sorta stuff." Maybell focused on eating her pear to avoid having to respond, as Gavin carried on. "I've spent two summer cycles underground with you, and now we're on our third. Every time we go topside for the winter, I don't know what keeps you from spacing all this dirt and dust, and leaving it behind."

Maybell opened her mouth to give a typical response, but Gavin cut her off.

"And don't you dare say again that it's because of me! We both know it's not! You have sex with Bobcat more than anyone else down here, because you know doing so gets him to do the things you want." Before Maybell could express how much those words hurt, Gavin continued griping. "You promise to have sex with me all the time! But when I give you what you want—bourbon or real fruit or a bathtub full of water—you forget all about your end of the deal."

"Do you want to fuck me now?" Maybell asked straight into Gavin's red face, fed up enough to interrupt.

With an apologetic look, Gavin leaned against the back of his bunk. "No, Polecat. I do not." He softened his words. "I just want an answer. I saw how pleased you were when your old bounty hunting partner shined around the last time we were topside. You came back so happy after spacing with her for a spell, that I scarcely recognized you."

Maybell mocked Gavin, watching with sordid pleasure as he struggled to stay calm. "When I was with Sara Jane? You thought I was happy?"

"Yes, damn your pretty eyes. You don't fool me one bit with that stupid look. You are hot for Sara Jane, and she's very hot for you. And now, with her new spacehsip, you're cringing with envy."

Gavin waited for a response, watching Maybell take her time chewing her fake fruit while deep in thought. After swallowing, she smiled.

"That Kelles is hot, too, hey?" Maybell further teased, referring to Sara Jane's new First Mate, a Celt with fire-brand red hair.

Gavin practically blushed, revealing his personal thoughts about Kelles. "You kinda got a thing for her, I think," Maybell said to that.

He huffed at her sass, and took to teasing back. "Yeah. Apparently I like Carrot Tops," he said, referring to Maybell's long and rusty locks. "Especially ones who I don't have a lick of a chance at getting."

"Ha ha! Yeah! Me too!" she shot back, referring to the fact that Gavin sported a buzz-cut with red-orange hair.

He smiled at the off-hand compliment she had given, for she was quite fetching. He then chose a different approach to get an answer to his question.

"Why do you hang out with me so much? I mean, even during the winter, when you could go anywhere. I stockpile a lot of stuff down here, but most of it's not mine. I'm just an old clerk who lives in a dingy storeroom." Maybell scoffed and rolled her eyes at Gavin's poor self-perception. "Bobcat would give you posh digs," he furthered, "and more real fruit than you could eat. He'd let you bathe every day, so long as you put out. And I know that you'd screw him senseless to get at that tub of water."

Maybell's twisted smile told Gavin he was right. "So," he pressed, "why don't you?"

Maybell squirmed a bit and sat up straight, looking as if she may bolt from the room at any second. Instead, she ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, finding bits of fruit still stuck in her teeth.

"Welp," she mumbled while swallowing, wiping her sticky fingers on her vest below her breasts. "It's like I first said. I really don't know exactly."

"Yes you do. Now tell me."

"No. I really don't. I mean, all right then—I'm a fuck-up. Okay? So now we both know that." Before Gavin could counter, Maybell carried on. "I am! You may not have noticed, but when Sara Jane was here, she was pretty much this close to punching me in the face, and on more than one occasion."

Maybell calmed her approach as she let that fact soak in. "And with all the horse junk she has in her, she'd bust me in two."

Along with terraforming moons and planets, Mankind had made great strides in the field of transgenetics. No longer were a person's infirmities quelled with pills or surgery. Using implanted DNA, a beneficial characteristic of any kind of animal could be inserted into another—including animals known as humans. Some people, like Sara Jane, had animal genes implanted in them just to make a statement, showcasing who they like being. But most people used implants strictly to survive, and live a fullfilling life.

"You don't much like people who have implants, do you?" Gavin asked, knowing Maybell's DNA was all human and unaltered.

This time, Maybell refrained from shrugging him off. She confessed an uncomfortable fact.

"It's not that I don't like them," she said, looking down at the her boots. "It's just that sometimes when I'm with them, I don't much like me."