The morning light filtered weakly through the thick layer of frost that clung to the bubble shield. Mist was rising from the shield as it melted the snow, turning it into water. The watchers were relaxing in the warm water, dipping their feet as if they were at a spa.
Outside, everything was still buried under ice and the wind was moaning like some forgotten ghost. But inside the base, warmth thrived. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon porridge and delicious fresh cakes.
Laughter echoed through the base as the residents listened to the familiar voice of Zulu on the radio, broadcasting like she did, every morning. The parrot had got the job after winning a majority vote on the base. People loved to hear him scolding others and talking crap.
Lisha was the unwilling co-host, and she made sure to say this every time the 7 a.m. show started. It was a two-hour broadcast that ended at 9 a.m. and it accompanied residents through morning training.
