Chapter Text
The cold metal walkway stretched for what seemed like eternity behind Amelia Watson as she shuffled on for a second hour. In the distance, the few times she’d looked back, she could still see the main towers and buildings that made up Fragment 7’s residential and commercial districts. The signs and lights she knew to be colourful and unique faded into a dull haze, and the bustling noises of city life had long since faded in favour of the dull rattles and hums of the automated systems that ran throughout the massive space station. Not a metre to her right lay the simple, two-lane road used by maintenance crews and delivery routes to the rest of the compounds.
The girl–for she was still a girl, in her mind, with how little she’d seen in her nineteen short years alive–gave a little hop to readjust her backpack. It wasn’t all that heavy; all she’d taken were some necessities, a sleeping bag, her notebooks, and her portable toolbox. There was nothing else she’d cared to preserve from her late uncle’s house save the intricate watch that sat in the pocket of her large hoodie.
Time seemed to slow down even more as she neared the daunting metal structure that was the Tower Facility. Amelia idly reflected that not a single vehicle had passed her in the entire time she’d been walking, despite it being early in the evening. Or, at least, what passed for evening according to the universal lighting system installed throughout the “outdoors” of the Fragment.
When at last she stood before the tall, heavy-looking metal door, Amelia swallowed heavily. The Tower Facility certainly lived up to its name, she thought. A massive, cylindrical spire that faded deep into the lower floors of Fragment 7 at the same time as it stretched mightily above the transparent roof and into the emptiness of space. The entire thing appeared to be made of sheets of mirrored glass, though Amelia knew enough of how their colony ship was built to assume it was stronger than it appeared. The space she stood in was mostly asphalt, with clearly marked paths for supply and personnel vehicles to follow around the sides and into loading bays and parking areas. The only other feature she could discern was a black rectangle with a bulbous camera, a blue button, and a speaker, set roughly at her chin level.
Amelia briskly walked up to the panel and pressed the button. As she expected, the camera whirred to life, and a voice crackled through the intercom.
“Please state your name and the purpose of your arrival.”
She gulped. “My name is Amelia Watson, and I, ah…” She hesitated. “I want to join up?”
There was some rustling and what sounded like breathing from the mystery receptionist. Amelia frowned. The speaker was remarkably worse quality than she was used to, all crackly and making a faint hissing sound. It was something she’d expect from the old, base technology all electricians and mechanics had to learn to work with before being introduced to magic-assisted circuitry and robotics. That they relied on centuries-old mundane circuitry spoke of a remarkable level of paranoia from the Tower Facility staff.
Some tense seconds later, the intercom crackled to life again. “Very well. Come in, and follow the yellow line on the floor towards the no-clearance waiting area. Leave your bag in the tray set out by the main door for searching. It will be returned to you after our meeting, or upon your exit from the facility, depending on its contents.”
Immediately the doors hissed open with just a hint of the hair-raising sound of metal scraping against metal. Amelia, one hand raised near her face, looked into the white, coldly lit entrance hall. “Thank… you?”
The tray in question stood out against the pale room. It was black, and clearly labeled “SECURITY DEPARTMENT” in very insistent yellow tape. She shrugged off her backpack, placed it inside, and heard a faint click as the plastic container slid into a concealed wall panel. Feeling just a little exposed, she looked away.
She looked at the floor quickly and frowned at the veritable quiver of colourful lines stretching off into the distance. Luckily for her, the yellow line was very distinctly to the right of the cluster, and led down another hallway with just a few other colours to it. Shrugging, Amelia turned and followed the yellow line.
It was just a short walk before she found herself at a grey door. She pushed it open to find a similarly grey room, with a single table and three chairs. On the table lay a few sheets of paper and a pen.
Amelia took a seat and started looking over the topmost paper, idly humming along to the whirring of the ceiling fan. It seemed like a simple enough non-disclosure agreement. She was not to share any details about the Facility or its operating details, save with those holding the necessary clearances.
Not that she had anyone to tell, anyways.
A few minutes later, a serious-looking woman walked in. She was, unsurprisingly, dressed in a sleek, modern grey and blue uniform. What Amelia did find surprising, however, was her hair. It was an uncomfortably deep black, with strong red streaks and pulled into an imposing and spiky ponytail. She was carrying Amelia’s bag, now adorned with a conspicuous red tape band around the handle. If she squinted, Amelia could read the words “CLEARED INSPECTION” on it.
“Amelia Watson?” the woman asked, sitting down across from her and setting the backpack by the door. Her posture was rigid and imposing, her black-rimmed glasses only accenting the severity of her slight scowl.
“Oh, uh, yeah? That’s me, I guess?” Amelia fought the urge to stand up and bow, suddenly feeling very out of place.
“You’ve read the short NDA?”
“Mhm.” Amelia tugged on a strand of blonde hair brushing against her cheek.
“Are you willing to sign it?”
Hesitating just for a moment, the girl nodded and did so. “Now what?” she asked.
Just like that, the other woman relaxed her shoulders and the traces of a disapproving frown fell from her face. “Now we can talk!” she said with a gentler tone. “Welcome to the Tower Facility. I’m Enara Marshall, Facility Coordinator. You wanted to discuss applying for a position with us?”
“Wha–huh?” Amelia spluttered. “I… nice to meet you?”
Enara smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid I’m very limited in what I’m allowed to tell anyone not bound by our confidentiality agreements. That includes my name, as well as any details about our organisational structure.”
“I… see?” Amelia said. She didn’t, but her brain was still playing catch-up.
The older woman nodded in understanding and shuffled the NDA off into a folder Amelia hadn’t even noticed she’d been carrying. “So, now that you’re here, I have to ask what sort of position you were looking for.”
“I… honestly didn’t think about it much,” Amelia admitted. “I just… want to be useful, I guess.” She gestured at her backpack. “I’ve got mechanical training. I could do maintenance, repairs, installations?” she offered.
Enara appeared to consider this. “What about your Affinity? Does that enhance your skills as a mechanic?”
Amelia winced. Affinities were small magical abilities present in practically the entire population. A common form was that of animal attributes, which would usually come with slightly greater strength or endurance, as well as enhanced senses. Others could range from minor telekinesis to changing your eye colour at will. Of course, there were rumours and the odd proven case of people with the ability to manipulate elements, or to survive the harsh vacuum of space unaided. It was a completely unpredictable mixed bag, and one that had not be particularly generous to Amelia.
“I can condense energy,” she said.
“Ah, beam attacks?” prompted Enara.
“No, I can just, uh,” Amelia raised her hand lamely. A little ball of warm golden light gathered in her palm and spun lazily, casting the shadows of her fingertips faintly on the table. “That.”
The Facility Coordinator hummed in understanding. “It’s stable, then?” she asked.
“I guess,” Amelia said. “I don’t have to use my hand, and it doesn’t mess with electronics or anything, so I use it as a light when I’m doing detail work on circuits or stuff.”
“Interesting,” Enara said. “So you’d like to work in our engineering division?”
Amelia drew her hands around her upper arms, looking sheepishly around. “I know I don’t really have any qualifications. I just sort of, I dunno, apprenticed with my uncle. He taught me a lot. I learned more from books, too. Fixed all of the automated house systems a few times,” she trailed off. Then, “but I really do just want to do something that’s useful. If you need a janitor, I can do that instead!”
Enara looked her up and down. Amelia became all too conscious of her baggy hoodie and messy, shoulder-length hair. For a moment, she swore she could almost feel the bags under her eyes pressing against her skull. She swallowed.
“I think we can do a little better than junior janitor,” Enara said at last. She shuffled through the packets of paper on the table and drew one out. “This is a release of liability for some testing I’d like to conduct tomorrow. Just regular physical fitness and Affinity procedures. You can read it over later, no need to sign right now.” She pushed it towards Amelia. “Follow this hallway until you find a light blue line on the floor, then follow that to the private sleeping quarters. One will have your name on it for tonight. If you’re hungry, the black line there leads to the cafeteria.”
“I don’t suppose you have a map?” Amelia ventured.
“Security risk,” Enara shrugged. “The orders come from higher up, anyways.”
“Right…” Amelia picked up the papers. “Thank you so much for this opportunity,” she said. “I’ll… see you tomorrow, I guess?”
Enara nodded. “You wouldn’t be the only one here around your age. I’m in charge of making sure your needs are met, and, should you decide not to work with us, that you don’t go looking around anywhere you shouldn’t. Blue line, black line. There’s bathrooms in both areas. I’ll send someone to escort you to the testing in the morning.” With that, the woman got up, nodded to no-one in particular, and headed out through the door.
Amelia sighed. “Well, I guess I could go for a nap,” she said to the table.
A longer trudge along white hallways and unforgiving lighting led her to a series of similarly white doors. A big, light blue circle on the ground helpfully implied that she’d reached the sleeping quarters, and a quick look at the walls (where one would usually put signs, were one not a weirdly idiosyncratic paramilitary base designer, Amelia grumbled internally) revealed a pulsing screen reading “Amelia Watson, temporary residence” sitting beside one door. None of the other doors had anything on their accompanying displays, save for the one that was very clearly a bathroom, so she reached a hand towards hers.
The door slid open with a hiss before she even made contact. She looked around the empty hallway, frowned, and stepped inside.
The room was a calming shade of light grey, at least. Amelia felt the tension leave her shoulders a little as the door shut behind her. She let her backpack ease off her shoulder and onto the plain white desk that sat opposite the single bed. There was a small closet embedded in the wall, too, which she gave a cursory inspection.
There were clothes, which surprised her. Track pants, shirts, a zip-up hoodie. A raincoat, for some reason. Underwear, too, in an assortment of sizes, which Amelia supposed was better than the alternative.
All of these things were in the same dark grey as Enara’s uniform had been, with a broad white stripe running up the left side of the outerwear, front and back. There were also some white details on the cuffs of the pants and hoodie, but Amelia was more mystified by the bag of toiletries (marked, as was apparently custom around here, with the word “TOILETRIES” on one side of the robust, rectangular carry pouch) that lay on the bed.
She had her own bathroom stuff, but she wasn’t about to say no to free products. She moved the bag to the desk and lay down on the (surprisingly cushiony-but-firm) bed, feeling a little awkward as she kept her shoes away from the covers.
From that angle, she was also better able to see the little nook taken out of the wall that housed the most painfully generic looking alarm clock she’d ever seen and a couple of power outlets. She rejoiced internally that they weren’t also labeled.
The girl closed her eyes and sank further into the mattress. It was growing late, surely she could simply sleep the night awa–
Her stomach growled.
“Ugh, fiiiiiiine,” Amelia whined. She swung her legs up dramatically, using the momentum to bring herself to a sitting position. “Black line, black line,” she muttered. As she got up to leave, she noticed a sticky note on the back of the door.
She plucked it off and read it.
“AMELIA WATSON:
Please register your biometrics for the door by using the panel just outside before you go anywhere. The door will, until then, open for anyone if the motion detectors trip. Holding down your hand on the display screen will bring up the relevant menu.
- Enara Marshall”
Well, that explained that.
Grumbling to herself, Amelia went out and slapped her hand on the screen, following the setup instructions as they appeared on the screen. Once she was done, she shook her head and started walking along the corridor marked by the black guidance line.
Despite her outwardly grouchy attitude, Amelia withdrew into herself as she arrived at the cafeteria. She wasn’t alone.
No-one so much as looked at her, of course, but there were maybe seven or eight staff members sitting around in their uniforms and eating their dinners at a few of the many large square tables. Along the back wall was a long self-serve buffet, stacks of plates and cutlery and cups to one side.
At least the food looked good.
As she made her way across, she was reminded of a church, to an extent. Religion had never featured prominently in her life, but she’d visited the large and empty faux-antique halls before.
Armed with her meal, Amelia hesitated for a second, suddenly unsure as to where she should sit. She could almost feel the facility staff looking at her out of the corners of their eyes, and she couldn’t really blame them. Tired, young-looking girl obviously not wearing their uniform? Likely not something they came across regularly. She thanked her lucky stars when she saw a big alcove off to one side, containing a wider, oval table with padded bench seating all along the wall and a few chairs messily scattered on the open side. It looked clean enough (though that was evidently normal for the Tower Facility), so she shuffled her way over and sat along one side of it, facing the door. She relaxed slightly and began to eat, studiously ignoring the silence from the few other diners around.
It was a quick meal, even for her. She barely had the time to enjoy the (surprisingly fresh) vegetables along with the most likely synthetic meat protein before her fork was scraping against the plate. Five of the people eating had left, and no-one else had come in. It felt like an oddly small crew rotation to Amelia, and a suspicion began to form as to why her entry interview had been so relaxed.
On her walk back to the dorms, Amelia saw only one staff member walking along a parallel hallway, head down and apparently quite focused. When she thought back to the few times her uncle had taken her along on trips to fix docking bays or hydroponics compounds, she could always hear people rushing about or simply existing in the space.
As such, she was startled enough to let out a sharp “eep!” when she nearly walked into a shorter girl trudging out of the shared bathroom.
Amelia immediately stumbled backwards and whispered “sorry!”
The only response to her apology was some muted gargling. The other girl turned around and revealed the toothbrush currently in her mouth, along with a grumpy-looking glare to her deep blue eyes.
The white-haired girl was skinny in a wiry, energetic sort of way. She was wearing the same type of shirt Amelia had in her room, except hers was clearly for someone much taller, as it hung off of her shoulders like a dress.
A dress which, Amelia noticed as she desperately tried to avoid eye contact, also bunched around the thick, blue, leathery-looking shark tail that undulated slowly behind the girl. She did not appear to be wearing pants.
Shark-girl looked Amelia up and down before making the sounds understood everywhere as “don’t move, I’ll be right back once I deal with all this toothpaste in my mouth” and walking back into the bathroom. Amelia jumped back to avoid the swishing tail.
It only took a minute for shark-girl’s head to peek back out.
“You’re new?” she asked, her voice clear, guarded, and with an ever-so-slight rasp to it. More interestingly, her mouth was full of pointed, clearly non-human teeth.
Amelia gulped under the shark-girl’s cold stare. “I… I guess?”
Shark-girl nodded. “Make sure you eat light before your intake testing tomorrow.”
Amelia blinked. “Thanks for the tip,” she said lamely.
“I just don’t want to wait for my gym time if they’re stuck cleaning up after you,” came the response.
“I’ll try not to disappoint, then.” Amelia frowned. She’d hoped to make a good first impression on her potential colleagues, but it looked like that option was already out of her reach.
“We all went in thinking that,” shark-girl said unhelpfully. “Anyways, bathroom’s all yours in five minutes, newbie.”
With that, the short girl ducked back into the bathroom and Amelia let out a shaky breath. She squared her shoulders and made to continue walking to her room, only to freeze at a final, echoing sing-song remark from the shark-girl.
“It’s gonna suck , by the way!”
The cackles that followed rang in Amelia’s head long after she went to bed that night.