"Harder."

There was definitely sweat dripping down my back. And probably lathering my hair. If I had any energy to spare I'd be disgusted.

"I...I can't!" I panted, blearily focusing on the cream wall in front of me.

"I said harder!"

"You try pedal your arse off on this piece of junk." I snapped, trying (and likely failing) to glare a hole into Elise's pristinely tidy outfit. That kind of tidiness wasn't meant for mankind.

She levelled me with a cool expression and seemed to disapprovingly tut without a word. Then, brushing away a speck of imaginary lint off her charcoal skirt, she stood up and strode off without a word.

"Wha-Where are you going?" I spluttered, coming to an untidy halt on the push bike. After an effort I heaved my aching buttocks off that too tiny, stone-like seat and flailed after her.

God knows why stationary pushbikes had been one of the few relics of the early 2000's to stand fast when we lost entire islands in some parts of the world. Surely someone watching the apparent armageddon should have thought 'Perfect time to get rid of these ugly, exercise inducing contraptions!'.

Guess not as evident from my aching, if slightly slimmer, thighs.

I found Elise in our kitchen, awkwardly attempting to slice up a lemon for a glass of ice cold water. I plopped down into a seat and watched her fumble for a couple moments before I brushed her off and did it myself. Honestly, who can't slice lemons?

Steady hands were pretty much a requirement for my job and thus a lemon was a piece of cake,  neatly sliced in under a minute. Elise popped a slice into her drink, begrudgingly grateful, before once again slipping out of the room. Of course, that left me to clean up the leftover lemon.

"Yes, thank you for your lack of help!" I called out after her, tipping the sliced remainder of my poor, sour friend into a container to go in the fridge.

"No problem." Came the distant reply.

"Are you at least going to explain why you're throwing a tantrum the size of the Submerged Cities?" I asked, trying to remain nonchalant even if Elise's whimsical actions grated on my nerves.

She'd swept off into our small dining room, fluttering ebony top and skirt in a swirl, looking for all intents and purposes like a particularly short and fluffy crow. If not for the curly blonde mop she called hair, the image would have been perfect.

I followed after her, silently wondering why I bothered at all. If Elise didn't want company, you'd be hard pressed to find her, even if we did live in the same house. I knew for certain that she'd never hide in my workshop, even if it had been my 20th birthday present that she'd personally designed. Elise couldn't stand the proclaimed 'godawful pigsty of a mess' and thus the only times I ever caught her in it was when she'd braved the quote 'sea of trash' unquote to drag me out to sleep. What can I say? I'm a busy woman.

She eventually settled in our mother's plush rocking chair, entirely too poised for my comfort. The look in her eye was familiar; I'd seen it in the expressions of our parents when they'd caught me coding in the early morning; an unbalanced mixture of resignation, irritation, concern and frustration.

"At this rate," My sister begun, hands elegantly folded under her pointed chin, "you can't possible pass the physical examination."

"I'm trying," I whined, annoyance bubbling low in my stomach. It wasn't like she had been overly helpful, commanding me around like Lady Muck of the fowl house .

Elise glanced out the window, disinterested, before looking at me once more, expression unreadable.

"You are," She acknowledged, frowning. "But all the applicants will have identical professional credentials to you and likely more field experience. This would be your first outer space expedition. Without a defining edge to separate you, you won't get very far."

This kind of strength in logical strategy was exactly why our parents had suggested Elise go into business. I truly admired her for it and she wasn't even employing it anything close to her limit.

"What does this have to do you not wanting to help me with exercise?" I asked.

Yep, that was a cheek twitch. I had definitely got on her nerves.

"Your complaining is annoying as hell."

Ow. Not very nice.

"It's hard work." I said, rubbing my thighs through my bike shorts.

"You're lazy, that's what your problem is, and it's to do with anything that doesn't come naturally. Not everyone got to be good at coding and building funky gadgets on their first try. Some of us had to work hard to get where we are. Not that you'd know what that feels like."

Okay, that might have hit a little close to home.

"Has anyone," I snapped, digging my fingers into the corner of the wall I was leaning on. Don't punch your siblings. Don't punch your siblings. "ever told you what an annoying little shit you are?"

The eyebrow raise I received was ice cold but Elise's following words were tinged with quiet pity of all things.

"You're talented," My sister scowled, "but you've got so little drive to try anything new it's a wonder you want to get shot off to God knows where. I can't help but wonder how long it's going to take before the going gets tough and you bail."

"I'm not going to-" I started, anger boiling my blood and wanting more than anything to kick the smug, knowing look off her face.

"Look how quickly you bailed when biking started to hurt." She pointed out effortlessly, not even bothering at this point to maintain eye contact, as if I  simply wasn't worth the effort.

I couldn't say anything to that. She was right, even if she was being a real pain the arse doing it.

"I think it would be good for you," Elise continued thoughtfully, steamrolling over my silence. "But you need to commit to it. I'm not going to stand for you bailing like you did when-"

"Are you still not over that?" I cut in, half embarrassed, half incredulous. "We were kids, Elise. Of course I made stupid mistakes."

"You haven't changed much, Lyra."

"Piss off."

"Well, you'll need to work hard if you want to have a shot at getting on Andromeda."

"...Fine. What do I need to do?"