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sub-terrain work, and some of those kids grew up and died without ever seeing even one sun. No wonder Ox loved their beach.
    Tink .
    Runt turned.
    Again, Ox tapped the machine’s case with his fingers as he squatted and felt underneath with one arm, straining for purchase.
    “Find something?” Runt came a little closer.
    Ox nodded once and slid his torso underneath the tofu unit. His massive ribcage pressed against the frame and his arms had to wriggle in by centimeters.
    Runt stood shifting his weight for five minutes while Ox’s colossal legs twitched and bent as he squirmed under the equipment. Runt felt strange watching his oversized lower half, the knotted muscle, the packed groin pushing at the suit’s closure, as if Ox’s whole body lived under a magnifying glass.
    So easy to kill him under there. Right now.
    Staring down, Runt felt huge for a moment, or Ox seemed small.
    Maybe he’s small for a miner. Yeah. Maybe he picked this shithole for the weather .
    The rattles and clinks from the underside stopped, and the husky oaf wriggled back out covered in soy mash and holding a length of hose. He presented the tubing for Runt’s inspection. Chance’s pants . A blockage had been wasting raw soybeans as they were processed.
    Runt snapped his fingers and took off, calling over his shoulder. “Hang on, hang on! I have more of those!”
    He trotted back with the replacement and watched Ox dismantling the mill, shaking his head at such obvious technical aptitude.
    At least I can heat mealpaks and pick locks.
    Runt stood shifting his weight a moment, but the big freak waved him away, as if to say, “Go do your own work, midget.”
    While Ox dealt with the soybeaner for the better part of six hours, Runt soldiered through his regular chores, checking in at the soy-mill occasionally. Seeing the components dismantled and laid out in rows made Runt’s gut knot and his eyes glaze over, but Ox seemed to have a handle on it with his big mitts.
    Runt’s cock rolled inside his suit as it plumped and hardened. Pheromones again .
    “Be in the orchard if you need me.”
    Without waiting for Ox to open his eyes or nod, Runt spun and strode away from the hive straight for the beach, letting his stiffness lead the way toward the twin suns climbing the sky.
    Once I have a wank and a wash, I can be normal again.
    But even after swimming out and swiftly masturbating, Runt’s balls stayed full, hugging the base of his joint without reprieve. His nipples were stiff nubs, his mouth felt wet and sensitive, and his spongy cock dribbled tracks inside his worksuit. He did go to the orchard to collect mangos and to check for fungus. And stayed erect the entire, embarrassing time.
    That evening, Ox reappeared at the habitat covered in rancid pulp and clots of soy curd, laughing at the mess.
    Runt glared and held up a hand to stop him entering.
    “All done, then?”
    Ox nodded once.
    “Well, no way all of you’ll fit in my little shower wearing that much muck.” Runt laughed to take the chill out of the air between them. The custardy glop started to drip onto the sand beside Ox’s size twenty-three boots.
    “Thanks.” Runt crossed the doorway and made a joke out of it. “Oi! You go rinse off in your big bathtub so I don’t squirt in your supper.”
    Drip-drip . Ox grinned.
    “The eel pups love soy. And spunk.” Runt grinned back. He pointed at the ocean. “They could use fattening up. Careful they don’t nibble your knob.”
    Ox bobbed his head and peeled out of his slimy worksuit right there, then lumbered naked toward the waves.
    “And mind your burns.” Runt called after him.
     

     
    After supper, Runt tried to let Ox pick a holo-vid, but the big man didn’t want to choose. He shrugged and jerked his dimpled chin at Runt instead. Already, the sun had lightened the heavy stubble on his jaw.
    Runt squinted at him in disbelief. “D’you not like adverts?”
    Ox sat on the floor in front of the bench and thrust his fingers