Taru Rigatai, a 17-year-old, kept himself busy with his paper-type sketch pad and graphite pen on the hover-bus, ignoring the other riders. The bus was cramped and hot, with a scent of human sweat and local market cuisine wafting in from the nearby shops. A regular day on this ride. This type of setting occasionally inspired Taru to draw the people sitting in their seats with the vibrant graffiti sprayed walls behind them. However, sometimes he regretted not getting off at the last stop.

Inspiration-seeking is one thing, but the constant travel on a dirty, smelly, and overcrowded hover-bus can be too much for the senses. In those cases, he tended to opt for an alternative ride home. The rickety, well-traveled bus, that was once a bright orange-yellow with green stripes (now faded and covered in gang tagged art) tilted and swayed, which made him uncomfortable. The floating cities of his tropical world were the subject of his latest rendering, which he worked on while sitting across from the window.

His world, Palarmia, was the tenth planet in the Acolyte system, a tropical paradise with sandy beaches, lush islands, and pristine blue-green oceans. He remembered his auntie's visit and her comment about the idyllic warm and sunny paradise. Similar statements are often made by visitors, like her. They had a tendency to spout the same phrase, or something similar to it.

His auntie came from Earth, a Jamaican-born descendant, who journeyed out their way every four years. She would constantly yap on about her days living on those islands and of the culture she was brought up on. Taru and his father had some of those traditions, but living on Palarmia, it tended to blend many old Earth islander cultures together. That made it harder for Taru and the younger generation to relate to such Earthly traditions. For them, it was completely alien and far removed. Ocean colony worlds like his were almost of the same mind. Earth was just some vague planet that they all came from, but didn’t really care for any culture similarities the visitors would try to remind them of.

He took a moment as he thought on that, giving a slight sigh as he glanced up at his world’s scenery, and then returned to finishing his work. His drawings often depicted young Palamrians (such as himself) skillfully riding on their hover-wave boards, or enjoying some fishing close to the surf, or taking out some high-powered skiffs to navigate on the edges of the tidal waves with fishing gear in hand. Again, this was typical island living on this world. Sometimes it would be the only thing many citizens would rather be doing on such sun-soaked days.

In his artwork, Taru always included the twelve floating cities hovering over the waters and patches of land. They tended to overlap, yet stayed equally spaced out with tiered levels that stretched for miles out. They would layer upwards, like gradual steps going on into the The colony was a blend of complex technology and uncomplicated living, which had been established for a long time. The design of the transportation, the aesthetics of buildings, and other markings suggested a combined tropical islander heritage in this world.

Taru had never lived anywhere other than Palarmia. His parents, who are now divorced with his mother living on another planet, were both third generation Palamrians. During the time they were together, living on this idyllic world, they made sure that Taru's health, education, and happiness were their focus.

"Whatta you draw there, young botha?" An elderly black woman asked. Her deep wrinkled eyes peered out from the folds of skin drooping from her brow. She tapped Taru's grey sandalled foot with a wooden stick cane and chortled lightly. Taru was annoyed momentarily, but knew enough to respect the aged woman and casually showed her the sketch.

"Dis, mo-marran..."

"Ah-ya!" She giggled with delight. "Gyrarid city? Yeah? Handsome, young botha, real handsome."

"Respect, mo-marran, much respect..."

Botha meant "teen boy" or "male youth", and mo-marran was a polite term for "old woman" or "senior female adult". Much of the slang of Palarmia was fashioned out of the culture mix, some just came from city-speak from colony workers over the century. Those that lived in the lower class tended to speak this way, were as the better educated or higher earners would be inclined to use the more Earth-English way of talking. Taru preferred to use both, only because he was use to switching to either or growing up in this environment.

The hover bus slowed down as it crossed the threshold of the city below and informed the passengers of this aging transport that the next stop was approaching. Taru nodded at the old woman across from him (a respectfully gesture) and gathered his backpack together. The bus was indeed ancient, more like a flying tin shanty with dirty windows and no doors enclosing the transport.

Taru stood with a few other passengers as they waited for the craft to set down on the landing platform. With the weather being constantly hot and sunny, the warm cross-breeze coming in was a welcome relief. The owner of this bus was undoubtedly a cheapskate when it came to a luxury like air conditioning. Most of the hover buses were like this. If you could get on one of those cooled buses you'd consider yourself lucky indeed. Once the vehicle touched the platform's surface everyone stepped off and others waiting for on board.

Life in these cities were always busy. The amount of traffic flowing around the labyrinth of buildings and vendor skiffs reminded Taru of the crowded oceanic reefs he swam through with his friends. It was funny to him, life tended to mimic one another it seemed; Like fish, humans and vehicles swirled about in an orderly fashion, weaving in and out, and keeping in rhythm.

"Oi, Taru! Yo man, here me zaff!"

That voice broke Taru's trance looking at the busy traffic and smiled looking over his shoulder. There was only one person that addressed him in that tone. "Harkin Bulga!" Taru acknowledged. A beaming smile appeared and ran over give his zaff a hug. Zaff was slang for "friend" or "buddy", a term of endearment among close friends.

"Where you been, Harkin? I've not seen you since mid-school."

"Bah! Been busy my zaffer. Can't all go to major schooling like you, getting your diploma..."

"You dropped out? Come on..."

"I couldn't go next level like you." Harkin smiled politely. "You know how it is here. Besides, got me a proper cash-job now."

The two friends walking along the side pathway, barely a railing on the edge where the drop below would likely kill anyone who stepped over. One could see the ocean and small island below, along with the edge of the next city hovering underneath. Each city tier was smattered together in a cluster of old cargo containers and cemented architectures that became integrated over the years.

This was an advanced city. Technologically it would have astounded futurists of centuries past, with structures and shaped buildings that defied modern thinking, and yet looked well lived with intermixed with islander shanties littered about. Taru and his friend continued to walk the path and up a grand set of stairs that led to the next level; an open air concourse filled with people and shops stung along the sides as merchants called out to potential customers of their wares.

"Eh, where you go now?" Harkin asked Taru. He quickly stole a small fruit from one of the vendors while distracted by other customers. Taru gave a disapproving shake of his head and tried not to address issue.

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"Off home," Taru sighed. "Got to study for me finals. Maybe do some drawings, after that... I don't know."

"Wanna go boarding on da water with me later?" He gnawed on the fruit, enjoying the taste and shrugged. "If ya got nothing else to do, that is. Me crew always wants to run da waters and slide the waves."

"Tempting..." Taru nodded, a slight look of reserve in his face. "But, my paps might not let me. You know how he is. Especially what happened last time I went out with you."

"Still? Oh, flagor..." Harkin said, passively rolling his eyes. The meaning of 'flagor' was basically 'whatever' or 'you got to be kidding'. After consuming the fruit quickly, he chucked the small pit away and wiped the juice from his hands. "Ya paps never going to forgive me, man. I didn't mean to wipe out that far and nearly get eaten by the giant squider. That was five years ago! Move on, tell ya paps to move on."

The two of them stepped into the awaiting chrome finished elevator, once the doors shut it suddenly shot them past several landings above. Their lift was one of the four racing by, all of which had various occupants inside of them. The two boys leaned against a guard rail that had a clear glass window in front, giving them a splendid view of the city, and the others floating above and below.

"How come you don't stop by my class anymore?" Taru asked, trying to break the silence as they waited. "Nobody from the old gang comes to see me. Why? Did I do something? Is all because of my paps?"

Harkin looked reluctant to answer. Even as the lift reached the level they wanted, he wasn't forthcoming, he just shrugged his shoulders and lowered his head. Taru knew his friend's unwillingness to say was just part of who he was. He didn't like giving excuses for others, and didn't like singling out those who might have mentioned a bad word in passing. Taru could understand that, of a sorts. Better to keep the peace than cause a war among friends. He decided not to press the matter further and watched the lift as it came to stop on their level.

Hawkins led the way as the doors opened and felt a need to change the conversation.

"Hey, I bet you've never seen a loader ship up close, uh?"

"Me? Naw..." Taru scoffed. "Just see them enter the atmosphere and cruise by the traffic."

"Oi, then come with me, my zaff. I show you one, follow me to the docks where I work."

Taru thought about it for a moment and agreed.

* * *

Standing on the platform, slack jawed with both hands gripping his tightly woven locks of hair, Taru was in sheer awe of the immense size of the ships moving about from the multi-tiered platforms. He'd never seen spaceship cargo loaders close up; usually traffic tends to move out of the way or gets redirected as they enter a city region, so people only could get a glimpse at a distance. The cargo loader vessels could carry thousand upon thousands of mountable containers. Each one could connect to the other and create a lattice work of extra girth to the spine of the ship.

Harkins merely chuckled at his reaction, the sight was nothing new to him, this was just another day to him. Harkins remembered his first time seeing it up close as well. He often forgot just how big of a deal it was to see something so immense in size. A ship from another world, one that traveled across the stars and brought different supplies from each one of them. When Taru was a small boy, he remembered laying on the sandy coastal beach and imagining that he was piloting one of those big ships.

Space travel was foreign to him. He'd been stuck on this planet for nearly all his life. Most of his art he drew was of spacecraft and different alien worlds, usually a very well endowed woman in a clad outfit would be in it, but some where just fantasies of him standing on those worlds. That was as close to outer space he could possibly get. It made him wonder if he should drop out all together and just become some cargo space jockey instead.

* * *

The loading dock was pretty much how Taru thought it would look; It had various markings on the concrete laden asphalt, for the zones for loading and unloading the ships, and huge sections cropped out for any sized space freighter to nestle itself into. There was another section attached overhead of this one, giving them a form of shade from the sun's constant bombardment of light.

The heat, however, that pretty much seemed to hang around despite the generous amount of air flow from the exposed panoramic view. As Hawkins slipped into his orange red and white overalls, getting ready for his shift and placing his other shirt in a small locker built into wall nearby, Taru took a look around the massive platform and took in the action taking place.

Another ship came into birth; A white-marked orange freighter cruised into position and carefully lowered into one of the long shaped cut-out sections; the bow of the ship took up nearly a good portion of the deck length, but it managed to softly dock and connect in place. Harkins whistled and shouted to the other workers busily trying to lock the ship down, they were in similar overalls and sporting hard hats and earmuffs.

The loud echoing of the ship’s pressurized air releasing was almost deafening. Taru covered his ears and wished his friend had warned him of it, but Hawkins was too busy greeting his co-workers as he made his presence known to them all.

“Ya come to work today, eh, Harkins?” One of them said, walking up and giving him a friendly fist bump. “I had expected you to call in sick again, or at least ya Mo-ma…”

“Sick of seeing yo face, Bo-pa!” Harkins quipped back. His beaming smile caused the man to reflect one back, and the two chortled from their insults.

“Who dis?” Bo-pa said pointing to Taru, still marvelling at the ships. “Ya doin’ tours now? Making some extra coppa on da side?”

Harkins scoffed at the man rubbing his finger tips as he said it. “This my zaff, Taru…”

“Hey…” Taru muttered. His eyes still fixated on the ships. He passively waved to the man who looked unimpressed by his lack of introduction. Taru caught Bo-pa’s expression and quickly added more. “I’m just hangin’ for a bit. If I’m skaggin’, I can go.”

“I said it was good.” Harkins tried to reassure him.

People who got in the way of work would be called, skaggers. Teenage trouble makers were called this when they would loiter around the markets. Harkins patted onto Bo-pa’s muscular chest lightly (that was barely contained in the shirt underneath his jumpsuit), and motioned to Taru.

“See? You don’t mind, tell my zaff it’s good, Bo-pa…”

He gave a look to Harkins, then to Taru, then back to Harkins again and agreed (reluctantly). He let out a sigh of frustration and shook Taru’s hand.

“He can stay, sure, but if the inspectors show up, I don’t know either of you. Ya?”

The two nodded in agreement and chatted with the others standing behind Bo-pa waiting for their chance. The group seemed friendly enough, giving quick introductions and returning to work. There was Takina (the exoskeleton loading robot operator), a husky built guy with little to say. Zelindi (another loader operator) she had a noticeable shapely figure, but a tough demeanour to her. Taru instantly sensed her eyes scanning him up and down, a queer smile formed as she gave him a cheeky wink. In fact, Harkins whispered, “Watch out for her hands, she’ll cop a feel for sweet ting like you, ya?”

Giving a quick check, as he passed by Zelindi, he made sure her hands where no where near his buttock. Taru then greeted the other three next to them; Jimbo, Mert, and Drix. Average looking Palarmian guys that were probably closer to his dad’s age he figured. Sometimes it was hard to tell; this oceanic paradise world tended to keep most people youthful in appearance and rarely gave any tell tale signs of specific ages or origin of race.

Everyone that lived on this planet for years (or generationally) had smooth dark skin. There was no way to tell of a different ethnicity, not that it matters to anyone here, of course. Even if you were originally from Earth with a light pigmentation, eventually your skin would tan to a golden brown from the absorption of the sun’s rays.

That’s not to say there wasn’t white, black, asian or different creed to be seen walking about. Those people would be considered the tourists; off worlders on vacation and periodically returning for a visit or business conference. But, the longer you stay here, the more you’ll blend in.

“Hey, has he seen Kali?” Drix nudged at Harkins. “Didn’t you say you and your zaff here went to school together?”

“Kali?” Taru said with surprise. “Kali is here? Where?”

“Uh… Kali, right.” Harkins didn’t look like he wanted to talk about her. He quickly tried to shift the conversation. “Don’t you guys have to get back to work or something? I need to get Taru back to the lift and see him out. It’s bout to get crazy busy up here…”

As he pulled Taru along with him, heading back to the elevator from where they came before, Harkins was taken back as Taru slapped his arm away and scowled at him.

“Where is she?” Taru demanded. “You never told me she worked here.”

“Oh, uh… didn’t I?” Harkins said. He gave an unconvincing performance of looking confused. “Must have slipped me mind, funny thing that, eh Zaff?”

Taru stepped closer to him, placing his face in front of his and staring him down. The scowl deepened as he looked upon his friend with bitterness.

“Where, Harkins? Where she at?”

Harkins looked back at him and gave up the pretence, “She’s on upper six, cargo management and logistics. She’s the secretary there.”

“Take me…” Taru gritted his teeth. “Now...”