Chapter 2: A Call Home

I yawned, tilted my head towards the interstellar comms system, and tapped the black screen. The monitor woke, glowing green as the T.E.B. icon appeared and spun in place. You would think that with how advanced these ships are, loading screens would be a thing of the past, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. I guess it is something humanity can’t seem to leave behind.

The screen flickered after another wasted minute of my life. The selection screen came to life with all the options and plans offered for making calls into deep space. The only discounted plans were those made to the company itself, but even those were charged at fifty credits a minute outside of the regulated free minutes T.E.B. provided. This is just a part of my life, it would seem.

“Warren,” P.A.U.L.’s synthetic, cheerful voice echoed from the ceiling speaker. “Just a friendly reminder: Personal bandwidth allocation is strictly limited to ten minutes per weekly cycle. You have exactly twenty-nine minutes until mandatory assembly on the Bridge. I would advise against this action until after either the briefing or until the mission has been completed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for caring. Now, start the timer, Paul,” I muttered, fumbling over to the metal sink and turning on the tap. A meager trickle of recycled, lukewarm water sputtered out. I tried not to imagine how this was all recycled piss and other bodily fluids, but failed. At least there is no smell, and it tastes like distilled water. Disgusting stuff. Although I fought the urge, I couldn’t stop a shiver from running down my spine as I splashed it on my face, rubbing the grease and sleep out of my eyes. I refused to look at the dark circles under them in the cheap mirror. I couldn’t look exhausted. Not for this. I had to lie to myself so we could both pretend everything was perfectly fine.

The monitor buzzed, and the static cleared. My sweet mother’s face filled the screen. She had a stern expression, but it quickly bloomed into a wide grin, as if nothing was wrong in the world and all the evils heaped upon us were just a nightmare, if not a lie. If only that were true. I wished I could reach through that screen and get a hug from that woman, but that was just a dream in this harsh reality.

Still, she looked tired — more so than last week. The harsh, fluorescent lights of the O’Neill satellite seemed to be malfunctioning slightly, turning her complexion an unnatural orange, as if she were in a tanning bed instead of having that natural caramel brown from real sunlight. Despite that, she managed a warm, relieved smile the second she saw me.

I wondered if I should bring it up. Probably for the best that I didn’t.

“Warren! Honey, my baby, it is so good to see you. I thought you wouldn’t call us for another five days,” she said, wiping her hands on an apron that looked stained with soil and mud. Her once clean and pristine nails were chipped and caked in dirt. “How are you holding up? Are you eating enough?”

I forced my posture straight and plastered on the nicest fake smile I could possibly muster. “I’m doing just fine, Mom. Really. The mess hall actually printed out some decent protein blocks yesterday. Tasted almost like real jerky for once. How’s it back on the station?”

Her smile faltered just a fraction; the weight of all her worries was visible for just a brief moment before she looked totally fine again. “Oh, you know how it is. We’re getting by. Though the utility board just raised the individual water and electrical bills again. Your father nearly popped a blood vessel when the bill came through the terminal this morning during breakfast.”

“Is Dad alright? He didn’t faint this time, I hope.”

“No, but he did break out into a fit of laughter for a good minute or so. He’s just stressed, sweetie,” she sighed, glancing off-camera. She was probably looking out past the driveway and out to the fields again. “He’s been working double shifts at the logistics hub. His company is breathing down his neck to get the supply chain routed for the new colony branch, but he can’t get clearance for the transport ships. Much like us, he is waiting for clearance before we can finally leave this place. He’s practically living on caffeine additives.”

I gripped the edge of the metal sink. Every credit I sent back felt like throwing pebbles into an ocean. “I’ll authorize a larger transfer this week, Mom. Tell him not to worry about the water and electric bill for the next two months. Hopefully, you’ll finally be off that damned money pit of a colony.”

“Warren, no, you need to save some of your wages for yourself—”

“I don’t need it out here,” I lied smoothly, without even batting an eye. “Besides, T.E.B. just assigned us a high-priority salvage mission. It’s a safe cargo pickup, mostly automated, and it comes with a massive hazard pay bonus. It’s going to knock out a huge chunk of the debt I owe to these vampires. Then it will only be half a year before I see you guys in our new home.”

Relief washed over her face. The familiar guilt that always twisted like a knife in my gut spread quickly as she spoke her next words. “Are you sure it’s safe? You know I hate you being out there in the vacuum of unexplored dead systems. Especially after…” She shook her head, changing the subject before her dark thoughts could fully set in. “Well, at least someone is having a productive week. Sector 4’s agriculture deck has been a nightmare. The old drone pollinators keep shorting out in the wheat fields. The station management refuses to replace the clankers, saying it’s not in the budget.”

A genuine smile finally broke through my exhaustion. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. He fixed them again, didn’t he?”

Mom chuckled, a bright, real smile spreading across her face just like when she first saw me. “Your brother, Sam, dragged three of those busted drones into our unit’s living room and spent all night hot-wiring their logic boards with scrap metal he traded for some of our cell-cultured meat rations. The management bots were furious, ranting about how it went against the warranty and some other policy nonsense, but he got the entire sector pollinated. He’s so smart, Warren. Sam’s going to be a real engineer when we finally get off this tin can and onto a real planet.”

“He will,” I promised, my voice almost choking with pride. “I’m going to make sure of it. I just need a few more of these salvage runs, Mom. Then I might be ahead of schedule for once.”

“I know you will do your best. You’ve always been our rock. Just… please be careful, Warren. I love you so—”

BEEP.

The screen instantly snapped to black. The T.E.B. corporate logo flashed brightly across the monitor before it quickly powered off and went into sleep mode.

“Ten-minute personal bandwidth allocation depleted, Warren,” P.A.U.L. chimed overhead, sounding as if it had become some game show host. “Wouldn’t want to incur extra communication fees, would we? You now have nineteen minutes to report to the Bridge. Have a highly productive day!”

I stood there in the quiet of my quarters, staring at my own distorted reflection in the dead monitor. My fists were clenched so hard that my nails dug into the palms of my hands, causing them to bleed. I was forced to wash them once more.

“That is now seventeen minutes, Warren,” P.A.U.L. chimed. “Please proceed to the bridge post haste.”

“Yeah,” I whispered to the empty room. “What a great start to a new day.”

I grabbed my heavy, reinforced boots, strapped my tool rig across my chest, and stepped out into the claustrophobic, dimly lit corridor. The Bridge was a nine-minute walk from my bunk. Nine minutes to bury Warren the son, and become Meat Shield 205 once again.

Better grab Ollie on my way there.