Humans had used cleaning machines since the twentieth century, well before the start of Climate Crisis I, and centuries before large-scale colonization efforts. Some of them even predated the computer. Time had only improved and refined these implements. There were autonomous flat-panned floor cleaners with vacuum, mop, and shine settings, ultra-precise shape-adjustable bathroom scrubbers, high-accuracy mobile air filters to capture dust and other debris. There were even micro-cleaning bots no bigger than a fingernail that combed surfaces like diligent dirt-busting isopods, although these were seen as luxury items.
So, when Nic and Eli each took a bristled broom from the supply closet and started sweeping the floors of Level One, every passerby took notice. It was akin to having a giant tracking hologram above their heads that read “check out these misbehaving losers.” Nic felt his face redden when two medics walked by, locking eyes with him. One smirked.
“Well,” Nic sighed when he knew no one else was within earshot. “This sucks.”
Eli dragged his broom along the corner where the floor met the wall. “You can say that again.”
The chrome-colored floor and walls of Level One were practically spotless already. They weren’t accomplishing anything tangible by sweeping; rather, this was just a punitive task made all the more unbearable by its futility. That’s the point, Nic deduced. But still, Welch told them he’d have RTIFIS review security cam footage; if they missed a spot, they’d be tasked with doing it again.
“You ever miss Wargame?” Eli asked him out of the blue.
“Only every day,” said Nic with a reminiscent smile. “Especially during times like these. Or during a mission. Our squad only got to fight in three before the war. Feels like we had a lot longer in hindsight... and yet it was still way too short.” He swept nothing out of a tiny crevice just barely as wide as his broom’s bristles. “And Mr. Top Performer, I bet you miss it even more than I do.”
Eli chuckled. “You’d win that bet. Behind the visor of a proxybot, I felt like I could do anything. I was the squad sniper.” He held up his broom to mime aiming a sniper rifle. “I took out the enemy from a distance. Even got a few showstopper Ws under my belt in my day. We had quite the career, Team Ivory and I. We all had enough saved up to get by if we wanted to retire, but we just loved it so much that we kept at it. The galaxy was our playground! We were on a hot streak... and then the war happened.”
“Mm.” Nic didn’t know what else to say.
Eli’s façade cracked for the first time since Nic had met him. His cold blue eyes suddenly looked a shade warmer, and it was as if the Ivory squad leader came down from his pedestal for the first time. “Leader to leader, I like to put on a brave face for my squad, but I’ve been scared shitless for them this entire time. For all of us. Korbin especially...”
“I get it. He’s gotta get home.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“More than that, this is Korbin’s second-to-last mission before his contract runs out.” Nic gave Eli a perplexed look, so the elder clarified. “Yeah. GDF let him amend his contract after his wife got taken out of commission. He’s got this assignment, then one more, and his tour is over. They’re going to assign us two replacements after that to make the squad whole, finally... And you’d think anyone would be glad to be free of this crap, but Korbin’s been stressing for weeks now. He can still volunteer for low-priority ops on established colonies, but those don’t pay half as well. I feel like the stress is getting to him. He’s slipping.”
“You’re worried he’s going to get sloppy out there—make a mistake that could cost him. Right as he’s about to go home to be with his wife and kid.”
Eli nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”
“Well...” It pained Nic to try to pay Eli a compliment—for no reason other than Nic’s own insecurity, he realized. Eli hadn’t done anything wrong by being among the best soldiers, and Wargame players, of recent memory. He was just doing his job.
And he didn’t have the blood of a squadmate on his hands like Nic did.
“You okay, man?” Eli asked.
Nic snapped out of it. “Yeah. I was going to say that Korbin is in good hands with you as a leader. I’m sure you can keep an eye on him and make sure he makes it out safe. But if we’re together on this op, I can keep an extra eye out for him myself. We leaders have to stick together. We’ll make sure everyone makes it outta this thing safe.”
“Well, that’s awfully generous of you. Thanks. I’ll do the same for Team Scarlet.” Eli eyed him sagely, betraying a more experienced wisdom that Nic had yet to cultivate. “It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”
Instantly, the Scarlet squad leader knew what Eli meant. He didn’t believe him for a second—not fully. But he’d already stepped out of his comfort zone and made himself more vulnerable than he cared to do. He wasn’t about to peel back another layer on such short notice. “Yeah, I... I do,” Nic lied. “The stupidest thing...” Nic shook his head, absentmindedly sweeping the same spot a few times. “It wasn’t even like it was fate or something. We weren’t a top-performing squad like you guys. We had a record of one and one. We were still newbies. The reason we got picked to go to Nereus was...” It wounded him to say it out loud, turning over the truth in his hands like red-hot steel. “...we just happened to be the closest. It was just sheer dumb bad luck. It didn’t mean anything.” A familiar tightness squeezed the inside of his chest.
“It means something now,” Eli argued. “And, for what it’s worth, it seems like it was fate to me. A shitty fate. An undeserved fate... But a lot of fates are.” He positioned a standing dustpan to collect what tiny specks of dust and half dozen hairs they’d collected from this first section of the ship’s main floor. “This war sure means something now. Shanti’s death, what happened to Cassandra, everyone else we’ve lost—they all mean something. And it’s up to us to make sure they weren’t in vain.”
“You’re right.” Nic imagined himself in Korbin’s shoes, Perri bedbound on some faraway planet, sending his credits home to her in the hopes she could piece together some semblance of a life without him. It was a nightmare even to picture it—he shook it off in a shudder. “Let’s get out there and do what we do best, for their sake.”
Eli grabbed the dustpan and they marched down the long corridor past the medical bay and into the next wing of Floor One. “Oh, and Nic?” said Eli. The Scarlet squad leader looked over his shoulder. “Don’t think we’re gonna let you take top score, though. Fair warning, we get pretty competitive on Team Ivory.”
“No one’s ever let me win anything I’ve won in life,” Nic answered with an equally competitive grin. “And I wouldn’t want them to. It’s more fun that way when I win.”
Eli leveled his broom like a weapon, holding it by a pretend stock and miming a reload. “That’s the spirit, Siegfried.”