The alarm blared and James sat up, smacking his head on the low ceiling. As usual. He grunted and turned off the alarm on the panel in the wall. He didn't mind the pain in his forehead. Not today. It might be one of the last times he had to sleep in The Coffin. A smile threatened to ruin his sombre expression. The Coffin; the small cubicle beds for people like him. The unemployed, the poor. He crawled out of the small space, pulling his clothes out with him. Standing on the cold concrete floor, he quickly dressed, closed the cubicle and shuffled off to the bathrooms to make himself ready and as presentable as possible.

Moments later he took the mono-rail downtown. His stomach tingled. Today was the day he would start his new job. Probably. And finally get money enough to rent an apartment. Or even get off Gordion. Eventually. That shit cost so much it was ridiculous. At least his job would take him out of orbit, to the nearby moons. He glanced out of the window, but the skies were dark with stormy clouds, as always. What a shithole. Always overcast, windy, and wet. At least the tall buildings in the city slowed the winds somewhat.

He sat in the crowded car, staring at nothing just like everyone else. He didn't get off until the mono-rail reached the very last station. By then, the car was empty but for an old woman who shuffled off in another direction as soon as they got off. He steered towards the edge of Platform 12, the “land” they all lived on, along a smooth but narrow road, lined on one side by a metal rail, interrupted by lamp posts every now and then. Glancing back, he caught the old woman looking back at him. Odd. Did he look funny? Self consciously, he brushed off imaginary dirt from his jacket. Well, maybe not that imaginary. He snorted. Hopefully The Company didn't mind too much. They knew he'd been unemployed for quite long anyway. Surely they didn't expect perfection? Nervously, he continued the last bit of the road, the smell of seaweed and salt permeating the air, stronger here so near the edge. They'd told him on the phone that being on time was utterly important. They valued punctuality. The voice had sounded strange. Maybe an AI? He shook it off and hurried his steps.

James looked up at the closed gates. Tall concrete walls, with one large grilled gate. Unwelcoming. Behind the walls a huge building rose. Ominous, dark concrete walls. Windowless. He looked around for a way to open the gate. A large red button sat on a panel by the gate. He hesitated only a moment before pressing it.

'Welcome to The Company,” a slightly warbled voice said. “State your name and entrance code.”

'Huh?' James said.

'Entrance denied.”

Well, I'll be damned.

James pulled up the paper he'd written down notes on during the call the other day. Entrance code? Oh, maybe his employee number?

He cleared his throat. 'James Bailey, five-thousand eight-hundred forty-four.' He said it slow and clear, to make sure the obvious AI got it correct.

'Welcome to The Company. Please, enter.' A loud clank preceded the opening of the gate.

'Well, that was easy, I suppose,' James muttered. He stepped in and took a closer look at the large building. He couldn't find any windows or doors. Just large, flat, grey walls, wet with sea spray, accompanied by the unending rush of waves off to the left. A yellow rail signalled the end of the platform. Some containers stood in rows a short way off, and seeing nothing else of interest, he decided to go there. As he neared, he spotted a dark square in the large building. Like an empty shop window without glass.

Curious.

He walked almost all the way up to it when a voice from behind stopped him.

'James Bailey?'

'Ah!' He spun around, heart in his throat. 'Yes?' He spotted a bearded man in an orange hazmat suit, standing by one of the containers, his visored helmet under an arm, his short brown hair flattened from wearing it. No wait. That was no container, he realized, taking another look. It was a ship. But it was the same size and shape as the containers. No wonder he'd missed it. Excitement tingled in his stomach. A real, if disappointingly small, spaceship!

The man stared at him, all stern and grim-looking.

'Uh, and you are?' James dared to ask.

'Bill,' he grunted. 'You need to come into the ship and sign the contract on the computer.' The man vanished through the ship's square doorway.

What? That was it? No welcome? No manager or at least an assistant coming to introduce the new employee? Strange. Just this angry guy?

James shrugged and followed him through the doors. There was only one room. One large, red locker took up much of the space on the left wall, a rack with orange hazmat suits stood to the right, a large computer terminal occupied the far back, and beside it, some bunk-beds hugged the corner. Luxury would have to wait, it seemed. Still, better than The Coffins.

Bill showed him to the computer and told him how to log in and sign the contract. Then he shook his head and clicked his tongue, as if displeased.

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What was his deal?

'There. I'm done.' He glanced around and added, 'I think.'

Bill gave a short nod, not even looking at him.

'Is it just us?'

'No. Rebecca and Dakarai will be here shortly.'

Thank the great ones, James though. They couldn't all be as grumpy as this guy, surely. That would suck.

He stepped over to look out the door. Two figures approached from the gate, already suited up and ready.

'Should I change to the suit, or?'

'Suit yourself,' Bill snapped.

Was it meant to be a pun? He guessed not. 'Which one is mine?' he asked, and pointed to the two suits on the rack.

'Whichever you want.'

Alrighty then. James picked the one he thought looked most like his size. He assumed he'd just put it on top of his clothes. As he opened the suit to put his legs in, he was struck by the smell. 'Wow,' he huffed. 'They don't give you any special treatment, do they?'

Bill side-eyed him, and he wished he hadn't said anything. This company, what was up with them anyway? They didn't even have a proper name, just “The Company”. Oh well, whatever. The pay was good. He could survive one stinky suit. He pulled it on and zipped it up. Helmet could wait, yes, thank you very much.

'Good morning!' Rebecca, he presumed, greeted as she walked in to the ship. She was younger than him. Maybe twenty-five or so. Pretty, with shoulder length, dark hair, brown eyes. But most important, she smiled. Not some grumpy oldie.

'I'm James,' he said and extended a hand.

She took it. 'Nice to meet you. You new too, or a veteran, like Bill?'

'I'm new too.' He smiled. It felt good to not be the only newbie.

'Yo, man!' Dakarai said, and grabbed his hand into a fierce shake, slapping him on the shoulder with his other.

'Ow.'

The dark man grinned, white teeth showing stark against his skin. 'Nice to see ya. I'm also new. You can call me Dak, or Rai, if you want. Welcome to the team.'

'Sure, sure. Thank you.' He couldn't be more than twenty, max, James thought.

'Well,' Bill's rough voice interrupted them. 'Get in and close the doors. We've got no time to waste.'

James looked at him, incredulous. How much of an ass could this guy be? In a hurry already, and they'd only barely had time to say hello. Or maybe he just really loved to work? Oh well. He guessed they'd get a lot of time to talk later. He faced the panel by the door. It only had two buttons. A green and a red one. He pressed the red one. The doors clapped shut and James jumped. Better not get a hand or a foot in the way when they close.

'He's a bit of a sour apple,' Rebecca whispered and nudged him in the side.

James smiled. At least the others were nice. 'I've noticed.'

'Listen, and listen closely,' Bill snapped. 'I don't wanna repeat myself. You all work for The Company now. Whatever drove you to do that. But this means we're on a tight schedule to reach the quota.'

'Quota?' Dakarai asked.

James got stuck on the reason for being there. Bill had said it like it was a bad thing, or their fault somehow. Hell? He worked here too.

'Yes.' Bill pointed to a screen with numbers. 'They've lowered the quota for our team, since all of you are new. But it'll get higher the better you get.' He glared at them. 'It's how much money we need to sell items for.'

'Sell?' James said. He'd been under the impression they'd be collecting scrap for The Company, not sell it.

'The worth of the scrap, basically. You sell it to The Company. If you reach the quota in time, you'll get paid, if you don't...'

'Yes?' Rebecca asked. 'Then what?'

'You get fired.'

That sounded a bit harsh. 'Surely not the first time, right?' James smiled, looking at the others who nodded in agreement.

'Yes, the first time. The Company doesn't give second chances. You have to be, how'd they put it, punctual.'

Well shit. James ran a hand through his dark brown hair. This was making him nervous.

'This also means, if we're late, we're fired. We cannot be late,' Bill stated firmly. 'And that's why we have to get started now. We're already on the clock.'

'What?' James exclaimed. 'We're being timed already? But we haven't even had a proper introduction yet! Where's the manager?'

'Manager?' Bill scoffed. 'I've never seen one.'

How long have you worked here?'

Bill looked to the screen, then moved over to the computer panel and started pressing keys. 'Long enough,' he grumbled.

'That's not very informative,' James tried.

What was up with this guy? And what was up with The Company? No manager? No proper introduction. Strange. Was it all done though the computer then? Oh well. He'd just have to accept it for now.

Bill went to the other panel, below the screens, pressed some buttons and pulled a red lever.

The ship shook, and the engines roared to life. Then James' stomach dropped as the ship took off. The shaking and rumbling almost knocked him off his feet, and he decided to sit down before he became unwillingly horizontal.

Dakarai grinned and whooped, holding on to the bunk beds in the corner. Rebecca smiled and sat, back against the opposite wall. Bill simply stood, steady as a rock.

Well, he was used to it, and he wanted to show it off, James thought. No matter. They'd find their space-legs soon enough he assumed and smiled. He was finally leaving this hell-rock. Suddenly, his spirits rose and he waved a hand in the air, joining Dakarai in another whoop. His first real adventure had started.