It was a small room, actually, not so much a room as a box of prefabricated wall. There was a narrow bed that barely could be called twin sized tucked in the left corner. A few brown metal bins with drawers were propped up against the back; they served to store the few garments. An overhead panel provided the light ambience of a padded cell.
Visual relief was provided by posters of various blimps and airships; they were mostly depictions of ancient models from the far past. One large black and white poster on the back wall depicted an air ship hanging on the spire of the Empire State Building. And on the ceiling was a giant spread of Clinker Number Twenty-one.
Lavinia had changed into a pair of denim overalls and a pink shirt one size too big that sunk a bit heavily against her slender frame. Lauren's overalls had slack everywhere, especially around the chest; they were also a bit too long. Lavinia's small feet remained bare. Soft and delicate toes contrasted with the dirty metal floor. Neon pink toenails looked as if they had been manicured yesterday; she sat on the bed and wiggled them. For a while Lavinia stared at the photo of Clinker 21, then she bounced up before looking outside into the garage.
The underside superstructure of the airship was displayed before her; it looked so menacing while suspended from the center of the hangar. She looked right and saw a few tool chests and much open space.
To the left, she saw a small lantern glowing on a metal chair. Larox undressed and put his clothes into a plastic bin. He turned to her, his thin and pasty chest bare and his pants unbuckled. Lavinia turned bright red, which caused him to back away and pull a shirt out of the bin.
"Sorry, it's okay," Larox said, throwing the shirt on, "I'm used to sleeping alone. Don't worry, I'll keep my pants on. Why am I apologizing? You came out here and you have my room. And you won't even let me sleep in the damn blimp."
Lavinia relaxed a bit as Larox dressed, she crept closer and stood, whistling softly. Larox sat cross-legged on his sleeping bag, looking toward his room, the room he wanted back.
"So, you've never been to Mandaree?"
She didn't answer, Larox waited a long while before glancing up. The number one thing on his mind made a slight smile cross his lips. But instead, she held her ankle and rubbed it while standing on one foot. His smile quickly faded. It didn't look nearly as swollen as it once did; in fact, she twisted and bent it as if nothing had ever happened. Not a hint of pain showed on her face.
"How did you heal so fast?"
There was the sound of soft footsteps and a door closing as she retreated back into his room. Larox grabbed a small remote from the chair, set the alarm for five hours, killed the lantern, and fell into his sleeping bag. He couldn't get to sleep.
"Thanks for letting me have your comfy bed!" he shouted sarcastically.
-----
An annoying hum from the buzzer would not cease until it Larox awoke. Dark purple bags hung under his eyes as he swayed and struggled to sit up. Wrinkles covered the clothes he slept in, especially the shirt. He pulled on his socks and realized, that much like Lavinia, he had no footwear. He'd have to file a loss report to get new issue. He wondered how citizens that weren't part of an elite recovery crew fared.
Stolen story; please report.
A good scent at the end of the hanger picked up his mood; it didn't smell like the usual rotten grub. It smelt like someone had made the usual rotten grub into real food. The others were all around the table eating breakfast; basically the same menu as always. Today's vegetables were potatoes and cucumbers in addition to the tasteless red stew known as slurry.
The slurry actually was heated, and some of the vegetables had been mixed in. There was, was that rice in it? Larox bit into a cucumber slice as he looked toward Tray.
"What's all this?"
"Had a pack of rice I bought with my savings," Horst said, "Figured I'd have a celebration, you being forced out of your room and being rejected and all. What better occasion to celebrate!"
"Who had time to heat this?"
The others laughed, even Tray couldn't help but smirk.
"Who cooked this," Larox repeated, "It's slurry but it actually smells good."
"New girl offered to cook," Lauren said between slurps, "She's not too bad, too much salt though."
"Salt! So Tray is letting her burn through the expensive shit?"
Tray shrugged.
"And what about Lavinia? She still needs boots. You're letting her run around and do chores without boots."
"I don't mind!" Lavinia appeared with a smile, "Have some food, you look hungry."
As Larox joined the table he noticed that Lavinia had no food, and was sitting calmly while watching all the others eat. Though from the looks of it she probably had eaten while cooking; probably took more than her share too.
But then again, everyone else seemed to have as much as usual. Tray had a bottle of hot sauce again, this time it was called Lucifer's Armpit Juice; it looked like he had dumped a good bit in the slurry, some of which was in his scruffy beard.
"Well miss," Tray said as he put the empty bowl down, "This is the first rationed breakfast that I've enjoyed in a long time. Maybe they'll assign you to the kitchens. They'll need to question you before you get a citizen card, then they'll assign you a job and provide quarters."
"Err, assignment," Lauren's eyes narrowed, "Just do whatever they tell you and show that you are smart. If you're not smart... well... either way I'll put in a word for you to be the fifth crew member."
Lauren stared everyone down, speaking emphatically, "She has mechanical skills that I can use. It will take the pressure off of Horst. And we are understaffed."
Tray looked down into his bowl, he had nothing to say about Lavinia's prospects, but plenty on other matters, "Anyway, Horst and yourself will be busy working on getting the airship back in top condition for the next couple of days, starting with a full battery replacement."
"Not a problem," Lauren said.
Larox loudly slurped some slurry, everyone looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"What?" he burped.
Sometime in the afternoon Larox returned to his room, Lavinia had been in there since breakfast. He knocked quietly but she didn't answer, so he knocked louder.
"Aren't we going to do anything?" he heard her say loudly from inside.
"What? You want to do something all the sudden?" Larox looked puzzled as he opened the door and saw her sitting on the bed, "There's really not much to do around here besides work. I could show you around the outer base, but all you'll see are greenhouses and living spaces. There are shops, but nothing worth buying. They're more for show, pretend shops. Even if I did take you out, it would be against the curfew rules, and you might miss your appointment with processing. Funny, this is the first time they processed an adult refugee here since I arrived, but I was no refugee; I had skills."
"What are they going to do with me?"
"You'll be questioned, given an identity card, and most likely sent to the outer rim. You get to apply for a job, but ultimately the bosses decide what you do, where you go, what you wear, what you're allowed to say, and everything else. Take my advice and try to go for greenhouse work, I have a feeling you'd be good with plants, and you'll have more food than most."
"Why can't I stay with you?"
"Me! Um, if you really want to, just tell them Tray recommended you for crew because you have a certain needed skill set. Do you have mechanical skills? Seems Lauren is anxious to hook you up as her assistant. What about computer skills?"
"All of the above!" she said with a smile, "I'll do that!"
"I can't guarantee anything though, especially since you'll be lying."
"Lying? But, I have those skills, why would that be lying? I have lots of skills!"
Larox was taken aback by her sudden enthusiasm, "You do? Well, this just keeps getting more interesting all the time. Well then, let's get you registered, it just so happens we've had an open spot on our crew for some time. Maybe you can fill it and avoid the grind of farming or industrial labor."
Lavinia nodded, "Good!"