Fineprint 2 RepublicChapter 2 Cabin Fever
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Fineprint 2: RepublicChapter 7: Duty free porn video
Dennis stood on one of the dining tables in the longhouse, and two dozen Borealans sat before him, some stared attentively, others muttered amongst themselves, perhaps wondering what all the fuss was about and why they had been called to this meeting. His hips were still sore from the night before, and Kaisha must be positively bedridden, but he did his best to appear commanding.
Ursi stood beside him on the ground, almost at eye level despite their height difference, her arms crossed, ready to translate for him.
She had assured him that as a now respected member of their pack, the aliens would listen to him and take his words seriously. Funnily enough, Dennis was in his element, he was a good public speaker and was accustomed to delivering speeches before juries and board rooms, his spider fur tie reflected rainbow colors in the firelight, a symbol that further cemented his authority.
“I’m sure you are all wondering why I assembled you here,” he began, Ursi hissed and yowled, translating his English into the Borealan dialect. It occurred to him that he should learn the language himself soon, if it was even possible for human vocal cords to pronounce.
“As you all know, Earth has lower gravity than Borealis, to be exact, the gravity here is 77% of the Borealis standard. As well as needing to take your low-G medication that has been provided to you, we must talk about the implications of diet on your health.”
He waited for Ursi to finish, and the Borealans looked at each other, some alarmed, perhaps fearing their food might be taken away. Dennis cleared his throat and continued.
“Because of the lower gravity, you are burning fewer calories. On Borealis you could eat until you were satisfied, but if you maintain the same dietary habits on Earth, a significant portion of those calories will be converted into fat. Over a long period of time, this fat will accumulate and make you unhealthy, weighing you down, sapping your stamina, and putting you at risk of various diseases. There are two ways to prevent this.”
He raised his index finger.
“Exercise, if you wish to eat the same amount of food you did on Borealis, you must burn those calories through strenuous physical activity, consider hunting, chopping wood, helping to build more cabins.”
He raised a second finger.
“Option two, eat less. Your body can only burn the calories that you supply it with, if your body has a calorie deficit, that means you burn more than you put in, you will lose weight. Over time your metabolism will adapt to your new diet.”
Ursi gestured, translating, and some of the Borealans nodded, seeming to understand.
He took Ursi’s hand and she helped him down off the table.
“How did I do?”
“I think they got the message.”
“Good.” He looked around the longhouse, now decorated with a few ornate tapestries depicting the Navarin, their ancestral home on Borealis, Earth and the Moon from space, the longhouse and the building of the village, the Borealans really did record everything this way.
“Do you think they’ll do what I’ve told them?”
Ursi scratcher her chin with her claw, thinking as she watched the flames dance in the fire pits.
“Well, you did not order them to do anything, however you are higher ranked, and they do respect you. I think they will heed your warnings.”
“And what about you?”
She grinned and pulled him into her chest, her ample breasts spilling through her gossamer clothing and enveloping his face. She ran her claws through his hair and scratched his scalp, chuckling as she felt his face redden.
“I will consider it.”
They sat on the roof of the longhouse, Dennis was in Ursi’s lap, her furry arms wrapped around him, holding him close to her body to keep him warm. The Republic flag fluttered nearby, blowing in the cold Siberian wind.
“Shouldn’t take long for the new colonists to arrive, few more days maybe,” Dennis said, surveying the growing colony. The rough ring of buildings stretched out around the longhouse, smoke from fires trailing in the breeze from the roof of every cabin. They were not uniform, each had a personal touch, each was a personal statement by its owner, different sizes, different shaped roofs, some were square, some round, some neither. There were no carvings like he had seen on Borealis, at least not yet, but perhaps more artisans would arrive with the next colony ship.
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