Using his electromag tool, Elian opened the small panel on the side of the propulsion engine. He lifted the metal cover away, placing it in on the workbench beside him, and peered at the wiring underneath. A virtual screen flashed into existence beside the panel, displaying information on the engine, as well as the reason for maintenance. “Shuttle ID: D7734, Propulsion engine H2. Issue: Thrust calibration error” he read from the screen, before accessing the virtual schematic. A new screen popped up, overlaid on the open panel. A blue neon outline formed over the areas of concern, directing him to the most likely causes for the issue. He worked on the panel for an hour or so, probing and poking amongst the wires, checking connections, looking for damage and corrosion. Once the areas of concern had been cleared, he closed the panel and marked the engine for calibration testing, before moving on to the next job in his queue, a hydraulics issue in the dampener of a larger passenger shuttle. He expected this job would require a full disassembly of the part. He was precise and fast as he worked, but his mind wandered elsewhere. It had been just under three days since the announcement had first appeared, and he knew the application period would be ending soon. He had visited his father every day, usually going to visit at what could be considered the morning time. There was no day and night cycle on Rodite, and people kept loose schedules, although there existed an official time that followed the old Earth 24-hour system. Elian could work as much or as little as he wanted to, but following his father’s deterioration he had been working long shifts, as much as fifteen hours at a time, then taking just enough time to recover in between. He would need all of the funds he could get, but mostly it kept his mind occupied. Elian did not have much life outside of work, nor was he particularly close with any of his colleagues. The shuttle bay he worked at was one of many in the hub city on the dark side of the planet. He had built a reputation for being fast and precise in his work, if a little closed off, which he didn’t mind too much. His goal was to be good enough for the management to take notice, then he might be able to work on microtech. A microtech engineer could earn many times his current wage, but it was difficult to get into training program, requiring a company as a sponsor. He would need to be seen as being worth the investment. As he neared the end of his fourteen-hour shift, thoughts of the Reseed once again filled his mind. What would the first stage be? He didn’t know much about the application process, usually paying attention once it concluded and the event started. He knew that it could differ from system to system, the number of stages in the process changing to match number of inhabitants in the system. He resigned himself to the uncertainty, knowing he would find out soon enough.

As Elian was leaving the shuttle bay, his work finished, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Elian. Wait a moment, I want to speak to you,” a gruff voice said from behind him. He recognised the voice of the foreman, and turned to face the man. Elian wasn’t sure where the man was from, but he thought he might be from a different system, as he spoke with an accent wholly dissimilar to any he had heard before. He stood taller than Elian, wearing dirty navy blue overalls, with a bald head and black stubble covering his face. The man had shown him around when he had signed up, but they hadn’t otherwise had much to do with each other. Elian nodded to the man, apprehension bubbling inside him “Foreman Escher, I didn’t expect to see you here. Is there something wrong?” This was the man Elian would need to impress in order to progress. The man didn’t seem displeased, and Elian felt a little of his tension seep away. With his clipped accent, all of his vowels seemed to meld together, and Elian had to concentrate to understand him. “Nothing wrong. Actually the opposite, you’ve been doing well. Your repairs and maintenance clear 97% of the time, thats the best rate in here." Elian looked down, not wanting the man to see the relief in his eyes. “I’m guessing you want to move up, right? What is it you are aiming for, want to work on the bigger shuttles, or maybe propulsion core disassembly?” the foreman asked. He knew these were good options, but the pay wasn’t as good as what he could make in microtech. Still, Elian hesitated before answering, not wanting to seem ungrateful “Ehm actually, I’m interested in working with microtech sir. I know its a lot to ask, but I‘ll work hard”. The foreman grunted, but didn’t seem surprised “Well,” he replied, “You have the hands for it, and your work is precise. I’ll have a chat with the boss.” “But,” he quickly added “don’t get your hopes up just yet." Elian smiled at the man “Thanks sir, I won’t let you down.” “Just call me Escher,” the foreman grunted, “the formality is unnecessary. I’ll send you an update to your home console once I hear from the boss." Elian thanked the man, who turned to walk back into the shuttle bay. “Keep up the good work,” the man said over his shoulder, before disappearing from view. Elian’s heart soared, and he felt like a boulder had been lifted off him. They might just make it through this after all.

The shuttle station was packed to bursting. People weaved past each other as shuttles emptied onto the platform, only to fill again from the waiting crowd. Elian navigated his way through, watching as a mining crew filled an entire shuttle by themselves. They would be heading for one of the mining hubs, separated from the transport grid that connected the planet’s two cities. Mining was the second largest industry on Rodite, with the materials acquired going straight into aerospace, the largest industry. There was a palpable feeling of anticipation in the air, and he saw the excitement on the faces he passed. Groups of people were gathered around holos watching the timer on the announcement run down. He spotted stream drones, recording interviews which were probably going onto the main stream of the Reseed. Elian was still buzzing joy after his meeting with foreman Escher, so he decided to treat himself, stopping by a stripmeat stand that had set up around a large clump of people on the central pathway. Stripmeat got its name from its manufacturing process, it was simply strips of meat cut from a bar of perpetually growing flesh, and it tasted amazing. The savory aroma of the cooking stripmeat reminded him of his childhood. He remembered how he used to pester his parents to buy him some every time they passed a stand, until eventually, they would relent. The memory was bittersweet, and it felt like it had happened in a different lifetime. He finished eating as he made his way back to his room in the apartment block. Once inside, he kicked off his boots, feeling the heaviness of his fatigued limbs. He wrestled his way out of his working overalls, grunting as he nearly tripped trying to free a leg. He flicked on the Reseed stream as he changed into fresh clothes, then grabbed a glass of water before settling onto his bed. Stream controller in hand, he flicked through the interviews, one eye on the timer as it passed under the two hour mark, and felt himself drift off to sleep.

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The lights and sounds of the stream woke Elian. The window was flashing with red and blue tones, and playing a sound somewhere between an alarm and an air horn. Sitting up, he took in the image. The timer had run down to zero. Elian had been devoting his energy to work, which he saw as a more realistic way of affording his father’s treatment, but he could feel a spot of excitement in himself. If nothing else, the application process for the Reseed would be a welcome distraction, and besides, it was unlikely he would make it past this first stage. He wasn’t too interested in having the eyes of the entire empire on him, but they would probably only want an interview if he made it past the second stage. And if he made it into the Reseed… well, then the risks involved in the games would be worth it. He stood, and curiosity itched at his mind, it was time to find out what was in store. Pulling the stream controller with him, he went to stand in the middle of his small room. A notice had appeared under the timer, “Hello applicant Elian, Rodite D- block number 47,4 room 3,331, pop number 6,534,123. The following contents have been personalised using your personal data. Please proceed”. As he proceeded past the notice, he found himself wondering what it meant by the contents being personalised. The notice disappeared, and Elian was shocked to find himself face to face with a woman. She had She was standing in the middle of the screen, which had expanded until she was full sized. The woman had shoulder length black hair, blue eyes and olive coloured skin, and was wearing a black cone of silk with sleeves. He didn’t recognise her, so he was even more surprised when she addressed him by name. “Hello, Elian,” she smiled at him. “My name is Elizabeth Anderson. I am the lead showrunner for the Reseed. Are you currently somewhere comfortable, where you can speak freely?” Elian had never seen showrunner before, but he recognised the name. Lost in thought as he tried to remember what he knew about the creator’s family, he completely missed the question she had asked him. He refocused on the woman in front of him as he realised that she wasn’t moving or speaking. It was a prerecorded interview, he finally realised after a moment of confusion. He took a few steps to the left, and the woman’s head followed him, which caused him to feel uneasy. The woman’s shoulder length black hair moved naturally as her head turned, and her blue eyes were locked onto his own. He guessed that the image had some limited range of actions it could take, using his data to address him by name. He tried to recall what had she asked him, something about being able to talk freely maybe. “Ehm, yes,” Elian said to the image of the woman, disturbed by her unwavering stare. The image flowed into life immediately, the voice sounding like the showrunner really was in the room with him. “Excellent! We will now proceed with the first stage of the application process. I will be interviewing you, please answer the questions I ask you to the best of your abilities. Do you have anything you wish to ask before we start?” He was surprised, he hadn’t been expecting an interview. It did, however, make sense to him that the showrunners would opt to do it like this. He supposed he was being recorded right now, same as everyone else who was interviewed. They would be looking for something specific, something to differentiate an applicant from the millions of others. An idea came to him, and he wondered just how interactive the image of the woman was. He decided to just ask her. “Yes, actually. I do have a few questions. Are we live right now, will anyone watch this? Are you working off a prepared script? And,” he hesitated briefly, thinking, but pushed on before the woman could answer “What is the purpose of this interview, what are you looking for.” The woman paused, frozen, as if processing what he had asked her. A few seconds later, her face warmed and she locked her eyes on his again. “We are not live right now, and while I can not divulge the complete workings of the interview process, I can tell you a little more if you would like to hear it?” Elian nodded, and the woman seemed to understand the gesture. “The interviews will be filtered, and a number of them will be flagged as interesting by our system. Due to the number of applicants, this stage is handled purely by our AI judge. Snippets of these interviews will be released on the streaming platform.” The image of the woman was unnerving Elian more as she spoke, as he realised that only her face and head was moving at all, the rest of her body remaining completely rigid. “I have a certain set of questions that I will be asking you, and I have the capacity to react to your answers, and to make slight adjustments to the interview as we proceed.” He found himself wondering what constituted slight adjustments. The woman continued, “The purpose of this first stage is simple. We are looking for interesting individuals.” Elian felt his excitement dampen slightly. There was nothing particularly special about him, and he didn’t have the most dazzling of personalities. Well, he may as well give it a try. The image was frozen again, having answered the question, so he nodded to it and said, “OK, I’m ready to start the interview.” The image in front of him seemed to come to life, the whole body of the woman reacting as if escaping from ice. Now the woman’s whole body moved, pulling a chair from somewhere off image, and taking a seat. She crossed her legs, smoothing her strange dress as she did, after which a large notepad appeared in her hands. Feeling awkward to be standing, Elian moved to sit on the edge of his bed. The image rotated to follow him. When the first question came, it took Elian wholly by surprise. With a smile on her face, the woman asked “Elian. Are you aware that your mother’s death was not an accident?”