I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know it's morning, or more correctly, time for me to get up. There is no morning here. And in fact, I probably work a night shift. I have an hour to get ready and get food. I press the extender on my bunk, which draws it out from the hole in the wall then I make my way slowly to my locker to grab my jumpsuit and check for news updates. Those scroll across the locker door.
Mostly it is general news and certainly nothing that pertains to me. There are four incident reports one policy revision and one personal note. I roll my eyes at the personal note. It's from Flip. Every since he discovered we could send messages from locker to locker, he sends me at least one each day. Silly Flip.
I hopped in my jumpsuit. Us underlings hadn't been allowed to bring much. I hadn't brought anything outside of a picture of the fam. They provided us with everything we needed here. Which was two jumpsuits, a tool pack and a synchronizing gps. That's what I called the watch they made us wear; they used it to keep track of us. It was cardinal sin to take it off.
We also didn't get big spaces that a lot of the other people got. We were six in a closet. I'd gone on some maintenance shifts with people who shared a room with one other person and had closet space, desk space, private bathroom etc.
Enough complaining though. I have to get food before I start my shift. I leave the room and head to the caf, which is all the way on the other side of the ship. All us underlings have rooms near the engines and storage in the rear and bottom of the ship. The halls are wider than our rooms.
The caf is at the other end of the ship and three levels up. There is a lot more of that positive attitude my boss, Decker, is always trying to squeeze out of us. You try being positive living in a sardine tin. Which reminds me, I need to go visit Langley and Winters.
Things are moderately busy in the caf. In the corner nearest to the kitchen, there is a long buffet table. On the adjacent wall is a grain bar; that's where I'm headed. As long as I can remember I've had oatmeal for breakfast, delicious hearty oatmeal.
The woman next to me smiles all kind like at me; she's having oatmeal too. I look at her uniform; she's a clerk for the medical department. I don't smile back, just ignore her, getting my oatmeal and hot water and taking a seat in one of the far corners of the room.
Perhaps I should feel guilty for being rude to her (I do it all the time to the cushy people). But really non of them have their arm twisted behind there back to be here. The medical clerk sits down next me. What the hell? I'm ready to hit her.
"Hello," She begins, "Maybe you don't remember me, but I'm one of the medical clerks; I've seen you come in a few times."
I don't look at her or answer her. I don't care who she is. If she's not part of my team or one of the teams I work with, she's unimportant.
"Normally I'm not on this shift." She continues. I still don't care, but I've never been great at actually tuning people out. "I bet your wondering why I'm sitting here instead of with the other medical clerks." Actually I wasn't.
I shrugged, feeling the need to be a little nasty in hopes she'd be quiet. "Could you not talk...to me?"
That shut her up. She looked kind of hurt but she didn't get up and walk away. Now that she's not talking it's a little more uncomfortable having her sitting here. I eat faster. The oatmeal is far too hot, but it doesn't stop me. To most here, it might be unusual to see someone eat a bowl of plain oatmeal, but it's pretty much all I've ever had. On earth, sugar is a luxury that people like me get rarely if ever, so is just about everything that isn't some factory grown grain is a luxury.
Last bite and I'm up and out of there as quick as possible. I charge off, with the slightest bit of attitude. She doesn't say anything. I should say that It's not quite true that I don't talk to anyone outside of the department there are people, just not a Cushy like her. I give a quick wave to one of the caf workers as I turn over my bowl. Those of us who had our arms bent behind our backs to come here recognize each other. Work time.
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