Episode 137

"You expect me to wear this? If it’s all the same to you, I’d really rather not..."

They were in the common room of the Plum II. Marl was currently holding up a pair of second-hand work clothes with two fingers as if they were a biohazard, eyeing them with extreme prejudice. The design was ancient; despite the reinforced padding on the elbows and knees, the fabric looked so thin it might dissolve if she sneezed too hard.

"Come on, they’ve obviously been laundered and disinfected... Wait. Huh? Is that a faint whiff of something?"

"...Absolutely not. Look, it’s not like we’re in a massive rush, so let’s give these the full ultraviolet treatment and a deep scrub first. I am not catching some space-plague just for the sake of a costume."

"Don't be so dramatic. Most diseases are cured in like, five minutes these days, right?"

"And what if it’s one of those nasty ones you can only cure in the inner city? Besides, how are you going to feel if you end up catching an STD while you’re still a virgin? Could you live with the shame?"

"W-w-w-who said anything about me being a virgin?! Regardless... damn, you’re right. That’d be a trauma for the ages. Washing! We’re washing them! And sterilizing! Definitely sterilizing. Good call."

Teiro scrambled to stuff the clothes into a bag and shoved them toward Etta, who was hovering nearby looking for something to do. Etta snatched the laundry with a cheerful "Leave it to me!" and bolted off, humming a little tune.

"She’s certainly a hard worker. I have to say, the ship’s been sparkling lately, and it's wonderful."

Simple chores like cleaning and laundry had become Etta’s daily routine, and she seemed to find a bizarre amount of satisfaction in them.

In a crisis, she was a top-tier sonar operator, but in times of peace, she was just a young girl. She didn't have Marl’s technical wizardry or Liza’s shark-like business instincts.

"I actually wish she’d put that much effort into her studies... but she’s clearly allergic to a desk and a screen."

Between her chores, Etta was using the Plum’s data bank to catch up on general education. She was shockingly ignorant of how the world worked—in that sense, she and Teiro were two peas in a pod.

"If she likes working, let her work. Once she realizes she needs knowledge to do the job better, she’ll tackle the books soon enough. Anyway, Teiro, back to the point. How exactly are we planning to approach the target?"

Marl crossed her legs on her chair, her posture demanding a proper briefing. Teiro let out a thoughtful "Well, see..." and laid out his grand scheme.

"Hmm... I get it. But why the long way around? There are dozens of simpler ways to do this."

"Yeah, but... this way sounds way more fun, doesn't it?"

"............I see."

Marl’s face went flat. It was the look of a woman who had realized arguing with a brick wall was more productive.

Sophia was turning 130,000 hours old this year—roughly fifteen—and today was just another installment of her boring, grueling life.

"Boss, the scrap is starting to drift. Can I get another wire?"

Encased in a spacesuit, she muttered the request into the plastic dome covering her head. The adult-sized suit was baggy and cumbersome, making every movement a chore, but she never complained. To her, this was just what 'existing' felt like.

"I'll send Rammy over. Just keep it steady for the tow... dammit, this piece of junk never works when I need it to!"

Through the comms, she heard the Boss kicking something in frustration. Sophia didn't know much about the inner workings of ships, but she could tell their vessel was having another one of its mechanical tantrums. The Debris Collection Ship, her only lifeline to reality, groaned and wobbled with a sickening, anxious rhythm.

"Sophie! I'm coming in from the bottom. Catch it on your side!"

Rammy drifted over from the collection ship, wire in hand, maneuvering behind a massive chunk of scrap that used to be part of a hull. She popped up on the other side a moment later and tossed a hook toward Sophia.

"Securing it now! Keep an eye on the tension!"

The fragmenting scrap wood was cinched tight by the wire. Once Sophia saw Rammy wave and back off, she put some distance between herself and the load too.

If a jagged edge snagged your suit, you were done for. One little tear and you’d be dead of decompression before you could scream. Apparently, there were "magic" suits out there that could seal holes instantly—or so Rammy claimed—but those belonged to a world Sophia would never see.

"Boss, start the winch."

Once the coast was clear, Sophia signaled the comms. There was no verbal confirmation, but the slack wire slowly pulled into a taut, lethal line, indicating the process had begun.

"Big haul today. We're gonna be late getting back."

Rammy floated over to Sophia, waving her hands to vent a bit of heat.

"Yeah... I need to send a message."

Sophia thought of her little brothers waiting at home. She’d have to find a moment to shoot them an email. If they were lucky, she'd tell them to eat and go to bed without her.

"Alright, get your asses back here. And don't forget the bags!"

"Roger," Sophia replied. She checked the small-debris collection bags tethered to her waist and began the slow hand-over-hand trek back to the ship along the guide wire.

"Howdy, howdy! TM Repair, at your service!"

When they finally stepped onto the pier, they were greeted by a man in work clothes who was practically vibrating with a forced, hand-rubbing friendliness. A woman in matching gear stood beside him, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else on the planet. Sophia wondered who the hell they were but quickly decided it wasn't her business.

Still, the fact that their long shift had been cut short might have been thanks to these two. For that, Sophia gave them a silent, tiny thanks.

"Ah, yes, hello! Thank you for coming. Could you, uh, take a look at things right away?"

Their Boss—usually a loudmouthed tyrant—was being suspiciously polite. Sophia watched the spectacle with mild fascination until the Boss snapped. "What are you two gawkng at?! Move it!"

She and Rammy scrambled toward the cargo bay.

"He doesn't have to scream all the time," Rammy grumbled as they reached the mountain of debris.

"Just ignore him," Sophia said, already waving a radiation meter over the piles. Some of this junk was spicy enough to melt your marrow if you weren't careful.

"What is this...?"

Sophia spotted a piece of scrap she’d never seen before and hoisted it up. It was a round metal object about a meter wide. Normally, it would be a nightmare to move, but the cargo bay’s gravity was dialed way down. She could lift it with ease.

"Don't mess with that too much. Boss’ll blow a gasket if you break it," Rammy warned, looking nervous.

"True," Sophia agreed, setting it back down. It didn't matter what it was; any profit from a "good find" went straight into the Boss’s pocket anyway.

"That's a Fridman Corp DCD-747 Sensor Lens, Common Style. A mass-produced masterpiece from the old days. It’s rare to find one in such good condition."

A voice came from behind them. Sophia spun around to see the woman in the work clothes standing there.

"I’m Maru. The Boss gave me permission to look around, so don't mind me."

The woman approached and offered a hand. Sophia hesitated, then timidly shook it.

"I'm Sophia. This is Rammy... Um, you really know your stuff."

Sophia didn't know if the technical jargon was right, but the woman spoke with such effortless confidence that it had to be true.

"Well, I’ve been around. I used to do work like this not too long ago," the woman said, a nostalgic smile playing on her lips.

Sophia gave a polite "Oh, wow," but she was screaming internally. Up close, the woman’s face behind the visor was incredibly beautiful. Why would someone like her be a Salvager? In this world, being that pretty was a golden ticket to a much cleaner, easier life.

"Sorry to bother you. I just got a little curious."

With a casual wave, the woman named Maru sauntered out of the cargo bay. Even in low-G, her movements were perfectly fluid. Sophia wasn't sure if she’d really been a Salvager, but she was definitely a veteran of low-gravity labor. You didn't move like that without years of practice.

"She was so pretty! And she said she was one of us!" Rammy chirped, her hands moving twice as fast now from the excitement.

"Yeah," Sophia replied. She felt a similar spark. In a life where every day was a carbon copy of the last, even a weird visitor was a treasure. Aside from the Boss’s shady business partners, when was the last time someone had actually come to their workplace?

"Hey! Those two talk to you? You weren't rude, were you?"

The Boss’s voice boomed from behind them, and they both bolted upright.

"No... we just talked for a second. They said this thing might be rare."

Sophia pointed at the round metal. The Boss let out an intrigued "Oh?" and immediately told them to treat it like a fragile egg.

"Who knows if it’ll actually sell for much... Anyway, about those two. They’re going to be staying in the dorms with us for a while starting tomorrow. You two are in charge of looking after them."

The Boss spoke as if he were discussing the weather. Sophia opened her mouth to ask Why? but swallowed the question. There was no point. If the Boss was in a good mood, the best thing to do was stay quiet.

"Don't get all tense. They said they just want to see how we live. They're city folk, think this place is a 'novelty' or something... Hmph. Bored rich idiots. They're probably laughing at us hicks on the inside."

The Boss spat on the floor and walked off. Sophia and Rammy shared a look and a heavy sigh before getting back to work. They didn't have a choice. If they lost this job, they and their brothers would be starving on the streets by next week.

To Sophia, this was the way things were, and the way they would always be. This had been her life for four years, and there wasn't a single sign on the horizon that things were ever going to change.

At least, not until those two showed up.