The next hour spent with the office lady (whose name I learn is Aley) is about as thrilling as one might expect filling forms out to be. Using holopads is only interesting for a few minutes, before the mundanity of signing your name over and over supersedes it. Still, complaining doesn't help me finish any quicker, and so I knuckle down, doing my best to focus on Aley's spiel as I finish up the last few forms. "...and otherwise you are effectively self directed. A badge does not guarantee you employment with a company. A badge does not give you special permission, either in Cetus or within the Unum. The only thing a badge offers is for you to support our city via harvesting tower flesh from the Unum. Is this clear?" she says, glaring at me from behind her Orokin styled desk. "Angry eyebrows over here makes me feel like I already went and screwed up somehow. I wonder what her day to day is like that's causing her to have such a awful vibe," I think, but outwardly, I just give a smile and a nod.

At my acquiescence, her face softens, ever so subtly. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. Once I hand this badge to you, you will officially be a skinner of the Unum. If you'd like, you may start right away," she says, as she hands over the oblong metallic object. I reach out to take it, and at first glance, it looks utterly identical to Othlak's. However, as I move it back and forth, the holographic display activates, showing my name, my face, and a few other details that would identify me as a legitimate skinner. "I can't start right away," I think as I place the badge in my left hand pocket, "since I'm still missing pretty much everything, but I can just pick something up from one of the few stores I saw on the main thoroughfare. Assuming I have the credits." I make a movement to leave the office, mentally running over my sparse finances, but an intentional cough from Aley grabs my attention.

"Unum willing, I will not be seeing you for at least another year. Neither of us want to be on first name basis with each other, understood?" she says, her ever present frown having returned. "But I know you first name, Aley," I say, mildly confused. She hasn't provided any other way for me to refer to her, and I can't help but wonder if I had entirely missed part of the conversation while I was filling out forms. "And I yours, Mrs. Nova. But my point is that I would like to not see it cross my desk for the next 343 days. If I do, then that means, for one reason or another, you have engaged in behavior that needs to be punished, and those punishments mean paperwork for me. I would prefer to not have more paperwork," she says, her glare gluing me to the floor. "343 days?" I ask, confused by the seemingly arbitrary number. "Yes, badges need to be renewed once a year. There is a grace period of one week, if needs be, but there is also an extra fee, so do try to be on time," she says, making a mark on her holopad.

"But that's not a year," I can't help but wonder. "What even is that number? Like, 365 is also not technically right cause we have that smidgen of day left over, but it's right enough. Did Earth get pulled into a different orbit or some other wacky space bullshit?" I don't ask her for clarification however; the best case scenario will likely just lead to confusion. Instead, in reference to the punishment, I say, "Yea, I wouldn't want to get dropped." At this, she rolls her eyes and sighs. "No, Mrs. Nova, you will not 'be dropped'. That is not something that happens. Whoever told you that term was likely trying to scare you," she says, as she reorders the few physical papers she has on her desk. I shrug. "I do not know," I lie, "some guy on the beach told it to me. I do not know what it means." Sighing, and with all the eagerness of root canal, Aley begins to explain. "It doesn't mean anything, because it doesn't happen. Please do not listen to rumors, Mrs. Nova." "Oh, okay, I guess she isn't explaining," I think, as I nod my head. Finally, she turns her brutal glare down at her files and forms, and with a final "you may go," I step out of the stuffy office and into the artificial light of the hallway.

"Did I say awful vibes cause actually I meant rancid. No one likes their job, but at least save the attitude for actual assholes," I think, as I stand next to the door. "well, I won't see her for another year, quote unquote. Now I just gotta get gear for tomorrow. Also also, somehow find a room that'll let me rent for 3 quarters and a piece of lint. Realistically I'll probably just... skip dinner. I doubt I'll have enough for all three. I guess it depends on the bare minimum I need to start harvesting." I look around at the various signs hanging above alcoves and doors, and most of them just state things like "CHEAP CHEAP CHEAP" and "Best in the Tower" and so on. "Well, I can't really check yelp, so... I guess I'm just shopping around," I think, as I start meandering my way over to the first store I can see. As I walk down the 'street', I do my best to keep my eyes locked on my target, ignoring the mouth watering smells that call my attention. The short trip is arduous, but I reach the store (marked only with a sign saying "GOOD DEALS") with my wallet intact, and enter the warmly lit shop. As my eyes scan the goods on display, I can't help but notice the bored looking older teenager manning the counter.

He notices my gaze, and gives a short head nod, causing me to chuckle. "The more things change..." I think bemusedly. Scanning the various tools, I'm slightly overwhelmed by the amount on display; there are hand crank drills, masks, saws of various kinds, empty flasks, belts, explosives, and more that I can't even discern the purpose of. Every piece of equipment has a sign underneath it, but a good portion of them only contain what appear to be brand names. The few bits of signage that do seem to have information on operation or purpose list out various bullet points that, on first read, don't make sense. "4 and 3/18ths? Inches, centimeters? 3.5 block? Block of what? God, I can't even read some of this stuff at all," I think in frustration. "Alright, I just need to... step back. I'm getting frustrated. What do I actually need to harvest? Bare minimum, I need a cutting tool of some sort, so, we'll do that and just ignore everything else for now until we have a few more bucks in our pocket."

"Plus, there's no point in me buying a bunch of stuff and then finding out I didn't need half of it," I think, as I make my way over to the aisle containing saws and knives. My eyes scan the shelves, and I feel my spirit drop slightly at the prices. "These are straight up too much," I think despondently. "There's gotta be an off brand something or other that I can use for a little bit." But no amount of searching within the aisle is proving fruitful. "Uh... Hey uhm, there would not be a... saw that is on sale somewhere? A cheap one?" I ask the cashier, startling him out of his disassociation. "Huh? Oh, yea, over there," he mumbles, pointing to a corner of the store with a few unmarked bins. "That stuff's half off." I make my way over and peek my head into the bins, seeing a collection of random tools and equipment, but seemingly nothing sharp. "You said there is a saw in here?" I ask, projecting my voice to avoid having to walk back the counter. "I don't know, maybe. If we do, it's half off," he says, clearly uninterested in the conversation. "Cool man, thanks, you're a big help," I think sarcastically. "Still, I can't afford anything else. If I can't find something in here I'll just go somewhere else."

I start pulling objects out of the bins to get to ones buried underneath, placing them on the floor around me. After a few minutes of digging, I finally stumble onto a saw; curved and slightly wavy. The handle is a smooth material of some variety, with slight depressions where my fingers naturally fell. It didn't seem to be too unwieldy, and running my thumb perpendicular and away from the blade let me know that it was sharp enough. "Could be sharper, but beggars can't be choosers." Rather than approaching the counter, since there is no one else in the store, I simply hold the blade into the air, and project a question over to the teenage cashier. "How much is this?" I ask, and his eyes lazily saunter over to the blade in my hand. "450," he says, after a moment. "Fuck that... barely leaves me with anything. I don't know if I can find a room for 200 credits," I think, as I start placing the tools back in the bin. "But also, I can rough it in a closet or something. The Unum's huge; there's no way there's not some unoccupied room in some offshoot hallway somewhere."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Once I refill the bins with their previous occupants, I make my way over to the counter and place the saw on the table, then pull out a stack of bronze as well, the lights on the top credit fully lit. The teen looks at me, a bored expression on his face. "...I need your badge," he says, and I feel my face grow hot. "Oh... haha, yea," I say sheepishly, patting my pockets for the metal item I had just placed in them. After a few moments of panicked searching, I pull out the oblong device, and hand it over. He takes a moment to look at it, gently moving it back and forth, his eyes flicking between me and the object in his hand, before he mutters under his breath, "Oh, first day." I nod my head, nervous words spilling out of me as he examines the badge. "Yea I am just buying gear for tomorrow. That will my first day. I only have a few credits, so I can not buy everything that I think I might need but also, I do not want to buy things and then find out I do not need them, so I am going to wait until tomorrow when I-" but by this point, he's handing me my badge and my change. The words die in my throat, as I place both in my pockets, before picking up my saw.

"Uh, yea, thank you," I say, before quickly pivoting out of the store and speed walking back into the delicious smelling hall. "Hol. Ee. Shit. Why did I spaz so hard there?" I think, as I stand just outside the flow of traffic. "Brutal," I murmur in English, before doing my best to push the awkward interaction out of my mind. "Okay, so... since I'm skipping dinner, I should probably just try to find a place to crash, even if it is a few hours before I'd actually go to bed," I think, as I once again start reading the various signage dotted about the hallway. After a few moments, I don't immediately find anything, and so I start making my way down the hall, moving away from what I've mentally defined as the 'front doors' of the Unum. As I meander my way through the space, I can't help but take in the sights and smells and sounds of life and activity swirling around me. I'm so caught up, in fact, that I walk right past a sign exclaiming 'CHEAP ROOMS FOR SKINNERS (Must have badge!)', and it's only due to being hyper aware of my unholstered saw that my gaze happens across it.

I veer out of the foot traffic and backtrack until I reach the unassuming door, and after a moments hesitation, head on in. Inside I find a tiny room barely big enough for me, a counter, and an older lady who I assume is the receptionist for the unnamed hotel. "Hello there sweetie!" she says, her social battery clearly untapped. "before anything, I have to ask. Do you have a badge?" She almost looks apologetic at needing to ask, but as I reach into my pocket, there's a clear sign of relief in her body language. "I can't tell if she's putting me on," I think, as I hand it over to her. She takes it out of my hand with a smile, and it only takes a second for her already shining expression to brighten considerably. "Oh! You're new!" she says, with more energy than I've ever felt in my life. I nod, and give her my most enthusiastic smile, doing my best to meet her half way. "I am! I got it just a few hours ago!" I exclaim. "Aw, that's so great to hear! Well," she says, as she hands me back my badge, "I was going to ask you if you had stayed with us before, but I can clearly see that's not the case! So let me give you a run down of how we work here."

"We offer very cheap rooms here, and we try to keep them very utilitarian so as to offer them at as low of a price as possible," she explains. "That means that the rooms do not contain their own bathrooms; the facilities are shared. There are showers, with hot water, but you'll need to supply your own towels and soap. For renting a room, we can take payment in different increments. We can do a day, a week, or a month at a time, and it's cheaper if you rent for longer periods. We do not sell food here, but next door they sell food for cheap. It's a sister business; you can head through that door," she says, as she points to a door on the wall to my right. "Similar to here, you'll need a badge, and the meals are simple, but very filling. Is this something you're interested in?" I take a moment to process her wall of exposition, before saying, "Yes, it does sound like what I need. What are your prices?" At this, she reaches under her counter and pulls out an engraved piece of tower shell, with a list of prices marked on it.

"So, our most popular deal is a renting a room for a week. At that price, it is one and a half silvers. If you'd like to stay for a whole month, then that will be six silvers," she says, pointing out the various prices as she explains them. "Our single night price is 250 credits. As you can see, it gets cheaper as you go, but even a one night stay won't break your wallet. So, what'll it be?" Throughout her explanation, I had had a smile on my face, but the second she mentioned the single night price I couldn't help but internally cringe. "Ah, so... I can not even afford a day. I know I am asking a lot, here, but... would it be possible to only be charged 200 credits for today? And then tomorrow, after I finish work, I can cover the extra 50?" I ask. There's a moment of uncomfortable silence as some of her pep leaves her expression, but it is quickly replaced with a look of problem solving. "Hmmm," she says, tapping her lip. "Are you with a company?" I shake my head no, and she continues, "Then I''ll assume you don't have a seller yet." I shrug my shoulders at this. "I do not know what a seller is, in this context," I say, and she helpfully explains.

"Someone to sell your haul to. Many skinners only harvest, but the tower flesh needs to be sold to someone to actually put credits in your pocket. Therefore, there are some who don't harvest at all, and just make their money by buying in bulk up front for less than market price, and then do the selling themselves. That way you get paid for your work quickly, and you don't need to make frequent trips between the blessed Unum and the market in Cetus." "Yea, in retrospect that's really obvious. Shit, if I harvested a whole bunch of flesh tomorrow, then I wouldn't be able to do anything with it," I think. "But," she continues, "you're in luck! We are actually part of a Cetus initiative to help skinners get on their feet when first starting out. You can actually sell straight to us. We are wildly below market price, nearly 50%, and normally I would need you to have the product on you... but I can tell you're out of options here, so here's what I'll do." She reaches under the counter, and pulls out a dusty metal device with an indent and a screen , and fiddles around with it for a moment, changing some options that I can't see.

"Sorry, do you mind handing your badge back to me?" she asks, and I acquiesce, pulling it out for my pocket for the third time in an hour. She slots the device into the indent, and just as quick, hands it back. I take a look at the display on my badge, and see that a new line has been added below some of my identifying information. "Wasn't sure if I remembered how to do that. So, you'll note that there's a new line on your badge," she says, pointing out the new information. "That mark lets people know that you've effectively sold your product before harvesting it. It prevents you from double selling. We don't normally mark, because most people don't usually plan in advance to sell to us. But, it's still totally within our ability to do! So, anyways, once you finish up tomorrow, you can just bring the meat over next door. They'll put it towards your tab." "If it is 50% below though, will I be able to cover today's missing portion and tomorrow's rent?" I ask, feeling out of my depth. "Absolutely! Probably! You just have to put in the work. If not... well, we can sort it out tomorrow," she says, with a warm smile.

She reaches under counter again, this time disappearing for more than a moment, before reappearing with what appears to just be a plastic card. The card is engraved with a room number, but other than that piece of Orokin text, could have been mistaken for a 21st century room key. "Trippy," I think, as I place the rectangle in my pocket. "By the way," she says, as I grab my badge and put that in my pocket as well, "I'm assuming you don't have any money for food?" I shake my head, giving her one of those flat mouth 'it is what it is' type expressions. "I was just gonna try to fall asleep before I got hungry," I confess, and she clicks her tongue at me. "Yeah, that won't work. Head over next door," she says, gesturing to the door on my right. "Tell them Heya sent you, that she'll cover your meal." I can't help but stutter. "W-wait, really? Y-", but I manage to cut myself off. "Don't social niceties your way out of a meal! Don't pull that 'you don't have to' bullshit, or she might actually take you up on it!" Instead, I just nod my head, taking a moment to form my words. "Thank you, Heya, I really appreciate it." She just smiles that same warm smile that had been accompanying us during the entire interaction. "We all start somewhere, right?"