by Ben Wolf
The view zoomed in closer and shifted to show the mine’s exterior amid a rocky blue wasteland. There wasn’t much there—just a huge, pressurized door set into the rocky landscape, a few ventilation units, and a wide swath of concrete landing docks, presumably for shipping and receiving. The rest of it must’ve been underground.
“ACM maintains a longstanding reputation for producing high-quality copalion for processing into the energy that fuels everything from Galactic Class starships to the hovercraft you’re riding, plus an outstanding safety record unparalleled by any other mining operation in the known universe.”
Justin leaned back as well and took in the presentation. These guys didn’t waste time. Efficient was right—why not get some of the preliminary training out of the way on the trip to the mine?
“With twelve fully operational mining sectors, ACM-1134 is the third largest copalion mine in the quadrant and is expected to rank in the top 1,000 of ACM’s mines for most copalion production.”
“That’s pretty good,” Justin said. “Higher than I expected for such a dinky little planet.”
“Yeah.” Keontae nodded. “Job security, right?”
“Right.”
As the recording continued, Keontae folded his arms. “Man, we don’t need this spiel. We just came from another copalion mine. It’s gonna be the same.”
“Maybe it’s different between different companies.” Justin shrugged. “And what else are they going to show? Disney movies?”
“I hope not. I don’t like documentaries. But just about anything would be better than this.”
The recorded message went on about how the planet hadn’t been fully terraformed yet, and so the planet’s atmosphere couldn’t yet sustain life.
“Alright. I’m gonna take a nap,” Keontae said. “We’re gonna get an orientation at the mine anyway. I don’t need to hear this twice. Wake me when we get there.”
Keontae extracted a big pair of retro, neon green headphones from his bag and put them on. He closed his eyes, tapped the left headphone, and leaned back.
The presentation continued, but before long, Justin lost interest, too. With Keontae asleep, he gratified himself with a few more looks around the hovercraft’s interior. Maybe he could find his new love interest.
He scanned the backs of the heads in the seats ahead of him and saw nothing, so he loosened his harness’s straps and looked back.
The big bald guy stood seven or eight rows back with his right arm resting on one of the seats on the opposite side of the aisle from where Justin sat.
Justin’s head whipped forward, and he shrank a bit lower into his seat. The big guy probably hadn’t seen him, but he didn’t want to take any chances either. Still, if she was back there somewhere, he definitely wanted another glimpse of her.
He leaned over just far enough that he could peek down the aisle.
The big guy leaned closer to the seat, wearing an ugly grin on his face. His attention remained fixed on something or someone in the seat, but from what Justin could see, no one sat in the seat nearest the aisle.
He craned his neck a bit more and caught a glimpse of blonde hair.
Could it be?
“Again, we thank you for joining the Andridge Copalion Mines family and our commitment to excavating efficient energy,” the presentation said. “Your transport will arrive at ACM-1134 shortly.”
Justin glanced back at the screen which now displayed just the ACM logo again.
“I said I’m not interested,” a female voice nearly shouted from behind him.
Justin looked back again.
“Easy, doll. Don’t make a scene,” the big guy said just as loudly, holding his left hand up in mock surrender.
Was he—was he trying to engage the blonde woman, somehow?
“And I said I’m not interested. How many different ways do I need to say it?” the woman spoke again. “Now leave me alone.”
He was trying something. Justin’s heartbeat accelerated a few ticks faster. Should he stand up, try to intervene?
He’d get pummeled if he did. This was different than with the man and the baggage clerk back at the spaceport. The big guy already didn’t like him.
Still, maybe he could make some inroads with the blonde woman if he tried to do something.
This time, he hoped the problem would resolve itself. She had just told him to leave her alone, after all.
“You don’t have to be such a bitch about it,” the big guy snapped.
“Excuse me?” the blonde woman said.
“You heard me.” The big guy straightened up. “Now move your damn bag and let me sit down. Then you’ll find out what a nice guy I am.”
“Not a chance.”
Fast as a snake-strike, the big guy reached into the seat with his left hand and yanked a satchel into view, but the blonde woman’s hand grabbed it as well and tried to hold it in place. She failed.
“Let go!”
By now, Justin wasn’t the only one watching. The scuffle had garnered everyone’s attention.
And no one was doing anything about it.
Justin cursed to himself. Then he unclasped his harness.
3
By the time Justin stood up, the big guy had tossed the blonde woman’s satchel into the aisle halfway between Justin’s seat and theirs. Then the big guy sat in the seat next to her.
Justin stared at the satchel on the floor, and then his eyes found those of several of the others between him and the blonde woman’s seat. All of them—every single one of them—stared at him as if he were crazy.
He didn’t blame them.
He bent down, picked up the satchel, and walked back to their row.
“C’mon,” the big guy said. “All this protesting, and you won’t even tell me your name?”
The blonde woman opened her mouth to reply, but Justin spoke first. “Excuse me?”
The big guy’s dark eyes harpooned Justin.
He swallowed and shifted his focus to the blonde woman. “I believe this is yours?”
She locked onto him with seething green eyes. Justin hadn’t expected her to hand him a medal or anything, but he’d hoped for some confirmation that he was doing the right thing.
The big guy yanked the satchel from him. “Thanks. Now make yourself scarce. The lady and I were having a conversation.”
“Like hell we were,” she muttered.
Justin just stood there. Should he go?
He’d already come this far.
“It doesn’t look like she wants to talk to you.”
Did I really just say that? If chivalry wasn’t already dead, it was about to be.
The big guy’s eyes narrowed, and as he stood to his full height, Justin backed up a step—a mistake. He should’ve stood his ground, but it was hard to stay put when facing down a giant.
Unlike the interior of the starship, the ceiling of the hovercraft extended well above the big guy’s full height. Soft, blue light reflected off of his bald head, and the black soul patch on his chin crept upward as he scowled at Justin.
Basically, Justin had just poked a large, hairless bear. Brilliant.
“Why don’t you hold onto it for her, since you’re so eager to help?” The big guy whipped the satchel into Justin’s chest.
He caught it and staggered back another step. The impact stole his breath for a moment, and as he regained it, beads of sweat traced their way down his sideburns.
“Look,” he started. “I don’t want any trouble. She doesn’t either. You should just go find another seat, okay?”
The big guy seemed so much bigger up close. Justin clutched the blonde woman’s satchel close to his chest as if it could shield him from his imminent demise, but this time he stood firm.
The big guy’s fists clenched, and he started forward.
“Shannon,” the blonde woman said.
The big guy stopped and turned back toward her.
For a fleeting moment, Justin pondered how hard he’d have to hit
the big guy to knock him down—if he was even capable of it in the first place. He decided against trying it.
“It’s Shannon. My name’s Shannon. Now would you please go sit somewhere else?”
The big guy snatched the satchel from Justin’s hands again and tossed it into the seat next to her. Justin just stood there, gawking at him.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” the big guy said. “Now I don’t have to keep calling you ‘bitch.’”
Shannon’s gaze met Justin’s, then she refocused on the big guy. Her voice hard like iron, she said, “No, you really don’t.”
“I’m Dirk.” The big guy extended his massive hand toward her, and she took it as if taking hold of a Carmelion sea slug. “Dirk Hammer.”
Justin’s eyes narrowed. Of course his name would be “Dirk Hammer.”
“Shannon Davis. Now would you please leave me alone?” She shot a glance at Justin. “Both of you?”
As if on cue, a male voice sounded over the comms. “We’re approaching ACM-1134 now. Please return to your seats and make sure your harnesses are fastened in preparation for arrival and touchdown.”
“Sure. We can get acquainted later. See you around, doll.” Dirk gave Justin a three-second stare-of-death, then he turned and headed a few rows back. He sat in an empty seat next to one of his friends from the spaceport, still glaring at Justin.
Justin looked down at Shannon and smiled. He started to say something, but she cut him off.
“Next time you’re thinking about being a hero, think again,” she hissed. “I can handle myself.”
Justin blinked. “I’m… sorry?”
“Forget it. Just go sit down.”
Justin blinked again, then he turned and headed to his seat. The gazes of everyone in that section of the hovercraft weighed on his shoulders. He plopped into his seat, and Keontae jolted awake.
“That went well, I think.” Justin secured his harness again.
Keontae rubbed his eyes and pulled off his headphones. “You say somethin’?”
Justin shook his head. “We’re almost to the mine.”
“Right on. I’m about done with all this traveling. Nothin’ but headaches and unnecessary stress.”
Justin huffed. “Tell me about it.”
After his exchange with Shannon and Dirk, Justin avoided them both while exiting the hovercraft. No sense in frustrating Shannon further or deepening Dirk’s hatred for him. Keontae followed him, as usual, and they blended into the flow of workers streaming off the hovercraft.
Soft, orange light illuminated what seemed to be a parking garage, though more than half of the spaces were empty. Others held hovercars in a scant variety of colors—mostly silver, black, and white, but Justin spotted a red one and a blue one as well. Several of them bore the orange ACM logo on the side, along with the mine’s number, 1134, and then a car number.
Justin glanced back. Behind the hovercraft, the garage led upward at a steady incline toward a distant set of sealed doors. They were already underground from the looks of things.
Justin didn’t know who was leading, but he and Keontae followed the crowd nonetheless. This many people can’t possibly be wrong. He snickered at that idea.
The crowd flowed through a pair of automatic sliding doors that parted in the middle, also adorned with the ACM logo. The group halted inside the large room adjacent to the parking garage, and Justin found the orange-and-teal ACM logos everywhere. Branding was certainly one of the company’s strong suits.
“Attention? Attention everyone?” a nasally female voice sounded over a comms system. “Please stop where you are so I can provide further instructions.”
The group gradually complied.
“Straight ahead, you will see a set of double-doors heading into the complex’s cafeteria and kitchen areas. In five minutes sharp, we will convene a short orientation meeting inside the cafeteria. See you then.”
The comms clicked off, and the crowd filed into the cafeteria. Once inside, Justin and Keontae took seats in the middle of the room at one of the dozens of long, white Plastrex tables with attached benches. The cafeteria spanned about the size of the parking garage, but its blue ceiling loomed higher.
As the remainder of the group filtered in, Justin looked around. He spotted Shannon, but she didn’t make eye contact with him. Beyond her, Dirk sat with his friends, still glaring at Justin.
Justin looked away. For the love of God—is he going to hold a grudge forever?
“I’d like to personally welcome you on behalf of Andridge Copalion Mines to ACM-1134,” said a middle-aged woman with graying red hair pulled back into a tight bun. She spoke with the same voice they’d heard over the comms. She held a slim transmitter to her lips and stood on a small platform to the right of where they’d entered the room.
Narrow, black-rimmed glasses, dark eyebrows, and an obviously forced smile gave her face a menacing quality, and her black professional attire marked her as some sort of admin official. She wasn’t fat, but she wasn’t thin, either.
At least no one’s starving to death out here. Justin nudged Keontae and whispered, “I bet she works in HR.”
“Maybe,” Keontae whispered back.
“My name is Ofelia Dunham, and I’m the Director of Human Resources for this facility.”
“Nailed it.” Justin grinned.
Keontae just shook his head. “Her name is Ofelia? I’m callin’ her ‘Oafy.’ Too easy.”
Justin stifled a laugh. “It works.”
“I’m sure you all watched the presentation aboard the hovercraft, as it was a part of your mandatory workplace training.”
“Oops,” Keontae whispered.
“Our HR team worked very hard on it. If any of you happened to miss it or want to view it again, simply pull it up on the screen system in your dormitory room.” Oafy waved her pale hand over the audience. “As I said, it is part of your mandatory training orientation.”
“Yeah. I’ll get right on that,” Keontae mumbled. “It’s a copalion mine. Been doing this all my life.”
Keontae had started mining younger than Justin had, and he was older than Justin by about three years. All told, Keontae had about seven more years of mining experience than Justin, so whenever Justin had a question, Keontae usually had an answer for him. It was one of the reasons Justin had tried to stick with Keontae since they’d met.
“After this introductory meeting concludes, you’ll be shown to your dormitories,” Oafy continued. “We’ve assigned each of you to two-person rooms by name, but frankly, every time we’ve done this, everyone just ends up swapping rooms anyway, despite how we try to enforce the alphabetical system. So proceed to your assigned rooms based on your last name, meet your roommate, and then, preferably, stay in that room.
“You’ll have thirty minutes to settle in. During that time, you’ll use your personal access code, which you received electronically with your hiring confirmation, in conjunction with your identity badges—” Oafy held up her own badge, which hung from a pink lanyard. “—to secure your room.
“Two hours after that, you’ll join the rest of ACM-1134’s employees for dinner in this very room. You’ll then return to your individual dormitories for additional training via your screen consoles as to what specific duties you will perform in the mine. You will view these training modules with your individual access codes. And yes, we do keep track of whether or not you’ve watched them.”
Keontae sighed. “This is what I hate the most about getting a new job.”
Justin nodded. “You’re more experienced than I am. It’s more redundant for you.”
“Got that right,” Keontae muttered.
“In the morning,” Oafy continued. “you’ll report to breakfast starting at 0500 hours if you so choose, and the workday begins at 0600. All other orientation information can be found in your training modules in your rooms. And with that, you are now released to the dormitories. Once again, welcome to the Andridge Copalion Mines family.”
&n
bsp; Oafy gave another fake smile, turned, and walked out of sight, still holding the transmitter.
“We are rooming together, right?” Justin asked.
“Of course. I don’t know anyone else.” Keontae held out his fist.
Justin bumped it with his own. “Good.”
They gathered their luggage and headed into the door marked “Dormitory 3” along with everyone else. A sign directed them to a short passageway and into one of three long corridors within the dormitories marked off alphabetically.
“Barclay. First corridor, A through H,” Justin said. “Oluwelu. You’re down the second corridor.”
Keontae pointed down the first corridor. “You find your room, kick your roommate out, and I’ll meet you there once I get my ID card.”
“Works for me.” Justin nodded, and they parted ways.
When Justin located his room, he found two Plastrex bunk beds in a narrow room with two Plastrex desks and chairs. A small closet just inside the door contained a smattering of Plastrex hangers hanging from a metal rod.
Dark blue sheets and a white pillow sat atop each of the white mattresses, and a large screen covered almost half of the white wall parallel to the bunk beds. Dark blue carpet covered the floor, and a pair of staggered domes on the white ceiling cast bluish light throughout the space. Two modest, white Plastrex dressers sat side-by-side on the far end of the room.
All told, the room measured about twenty Coalition Standard feet long by about twelve CS feet wide. The closet accounted for a four-by-four section of that space, and the bunk beds took up another three-by-seven CS feet beyond that. The desks and dressers weren’t huge, but they took up a lot of space as well.
Habitable. Justin shook his head and tossed his bags onto the lower bunk. Barely.
Due to his issues with heights, Justin had made it clear two employers ago that he needed the lower bunk, and Keontae had obliged. That’s how they’d met four years earlier—assigned as roommates at a competitor of Andridge’s mining operations halfway across the solar system on Beskapt-12.
