I find the store without any trouble; it's… well, a store. They have things on display behind locked cabinets, trackers on the merchandise, cameras and sensors both obvious and less so, a sales clerk… I don't really know what I was expecting, but apparently the needs of a storefront don't change too terribly much. Using my ID and credstick is interesting the first time: I just swipe it over a screen that's showing the total, and the merchant gets a little pop-up image of me… wait, my left eye has a pink iris? That’s… good to know… I really need to find a mirror… then hits a confirmation button, after which I apply my thumb to the pad. After the first time, the novelty wears off.
I don't entirely follow Bart's advice. Yes, I buy a cheap personal com (seven credits, basically a low end smartphone), two changes of clothes (everyday clothing, one credit each), an engineering kit (twenty credits), a hacking kit (despite the name, it's used for a lot of things besides unlawful entry: Twenty credits), and a consumer backpack (three credits), leaving me with forty-eight credits to my name.
What I do NOT do is rent an apartment. Prestidigitation can keep me (and my gear) clean (although my bust increases slightly while I'm working), and I don't need food, water, or sleep. So what I get is a cheap gym membership at a 24 hour gym (1 credit/week, paid four weeks in advance) and a very small storage locker (one credit a month). Between the two, I have a place to shower, change, and store things I don’t want to carry at the moment. That drops me down to forty-three credits, but covers my needs. An actual, minimal “efficiency” apartment where everything is fold-out in a single small room runs twenty-five credits a month if I look around a bit and don't mind getting a place out of the way (forty-five if I want a nicer location)… doable, but not great.
Finding a job is a simple matter: The local infosphere (think Internet) has plenty of help wanted search engines. I actually get two jobs: A “day shift” working engineering tasks for the station doing routine maintenance, and a “night shift” handling computer repairs for people. I “take ten” and just give it an average effort… and get eighty-two credits the first week that way (forty working computers, forty two doing engineering). Not needing to eat or sleep cuts my expenses considerably while also letting me work twice as much … which is handy.
And the two jobs STILL leave me to my own devices eight hours a day (well, more like six once I include travel time - I am walking basically everywhere, but I can generally get anywhere on my usual routes in under an hour). I spend my free time looking things up in the infosphere, especially looking for a starship job. Preferably a small starship: I want to minimize my exposure to whatever it is Patricia eats, but I also don't want to be a hermit.
After two weeks (which nets me a hundred sixty credits… I do spend a little bit every now and again), I manage to sign on as an engineer on a Kevolari Venture… at fifty-five credits a week. Yes, that's only a little over half of what I'm earning on station. And that's OK: I don't need much money, and there’s basically no expenses aboard ship. I have two weeks before I ship out, so I serve notice at my jobs, and just before we leave I convert a third of my credits to UPB's (also known as cash here), drop a third into an aggressive mutual fund on station, and keep the rest on my id. Well, after a few purchases; I mean, I need at least one set of formal wear, a zero gravity environmental suit, a set of party wear, an upgrade to an industrial backpack, a trap kit (which is used for removing traps, just in case that isn’t clear from the name), and a few other odds and ends… so I only end up having about a hundred credits in each storehouse. Still… as long as I don't lose all three, I'm fine.
And so there I stand, after four weeks on Absalom Station, at a docking port, ready to enter the ship I'll be on for at least the next few weeks. It's not a big ship, which is exactly what I want. Counting the captain, I have four crewmates… and this will be my first time meeting any of them. I did, however, get their photos, names, and positions.
The captain’s name is scent-based. It was written as “Eric” and had a note that it doesn’t translate to text. He’s a Dessamar imago, which is an insectoid species (still classified as humanoid, though) with four arms (although the arms are weaker, so he needs to use two to accomplish many tasks that a human would only need one to use, so…), butterfly wings (that do actually let him fly), and antennae that give him a fair idea what’s around him even if his eyes are closed. His wings have beautiful patterns of black, purple, red, and blue. The pilot’s name is Peter; he’s an android, with pale skin, blue eyes, blond hair, and circuitry on his cheeks that kind of looks like a rose to me. We also have two gunners - noted as brothers: Two Ysoki, who look like half-sized humans with oversized rat heads, fur, and tails. Apparently they can actually use their cheeks to store things, like hamsters. Their names are Zachery and Joseph. I can’t tell them apart from their pictures… I’ll need to figure that out once I actually see them. Yes, they’re all males: It’s a sausage fest. I plan on minimizing my changes, but it’s not like any of these would be particularly attracted to humans anyway, so… I’m probably fine.
I was hired mostly because I can do double-duty as both the engineer and the science officer; that made a nice selling point in the remote interview. They sent me some tests after the interview so I could prove it… and it seems they liked my results well enough: I’m here, after all.
The captain is inside the airlock as I approach, so I smile and salute, “Permission to come aboard, captain?” It seldom hurts to follow the forms when there’s not a time crunch: We have a few hours before we’re scheduled to leave.
Eric looks at me a moment, then returns the salute, “Granted Alex, welcome aboard.” His voice is a little higher pitched than I was expecting, and I kind of hear plates clicking together in there?
“Thank you. I’ve looked over the ship plans the boss sent me,” I had two weeks and several hours a day to prepare, so yes, of course I did, “but that didn’t include bunk assignments or anything. Do you have any preferences on where I should stow my gear?”
The captain makes something of a chittering sound, which the Culture skill tells me is laughter, “There are lockers behind the bunks; just use the one associated with whichever you end up selecting.”
Right. There’s a captain’s cabin… which is all of about three meters square… and everyone else gets bunks carved into the walls on either side of a short section of hallway that’s merely three feet wide… and happens to be between the mess and the bridge, so it’ll get a lot of traffic. This is most certainly not a luxury cruise… but at least the bunks have curtains. It’s a good thing I don’t actually sleep, but I don’t plan to let that slip for a while… which is why I have books on my phone… sorry, my personal com unit… and can connect it to the ship’s computer. So I plan to spend my off shifts reading.
I pick an unused bunk, check the locker to make sure it doesn't have any backdoors, stow my gear, lock the locker, and run an inspection tour of the ship. Yes, I've seen the basic plans, but that doesn't tell me about the actual ship. I'm going to need to be familiar with it if I'm going to keep it running: What paths power takes, what repairs have been done in the past, where all the various supplies are stored, and so on. Of course, while I'm at it, I also tour the ship - note the locations of the head (the ship is designed to accommodate only six crew members, so there's exactly one bathroom with a shower), the mess (more like a table and a few chairs next to the unit that turns what comes out of the crew into sanitary, nutritious mush… and coffee), the exercise area (a treadmill and something like one of those home gym units in a small room), the fabrication area (a workbench and a bunch of drawers full of tools where people can build minor items that the ship needs), the cargo holds (currently empty; I understand we just dropped off a bunch of foodstocks, and will be taking a load of manufactured goods to a mining outpost), and so on.
The rest of the crew is apparently on shore leave; the captain is the only other person on board at the moment. So after I finish my inspection tour, I settle down in my bunk and pull out my phone to read… as my head starts to throb.
I guess I didn't get out fast enough….
I find the store without any trouble; it's… well, a store. They have things on display behind locked cabinets, trackers on the merchandise, cameras and sensors both obvious and less so, a sales clerk… I don't really know what I was expecting, but apparently the needs of a storefront don't change too terribly much. Using my ID and credstick is interesting the first time: I just swipe it over a screen that's showing the total, and the merchant gets a little pop-up image of me… wait, my left eye has a pink iris? That’s… good to know… I really need to find a mirror… then hits a confirmation button, after which I apply my thumb to the pad. After the first time, the novelty wears off.
I don't entirely follow Bart's advice. Yes, I buy a cheap personal com (seven credits, basically a low end smartphone), two changes of clothes (everyday clothing, one credit each), an engineering kit (twenty credits), a hacking kit (despite the name, it's used for a lot of things besides unlawful entry: Twenty credits), and a consumer backpack (three credits), leaving me with forty-eight credits to my name.
What I do NOT do is rent an apartment. Prestidigitation can keep me (and my gear) clean (although my bust increases slightly while I'm working), and I don't need food, water, or sleep. So what I get is a cheap gym membership at a 24 hour gym (1 credit/week, paid four weeks in advance) and a very small storage locker (one credit a month). Between the two, I have a place to shower, change, and store things I don’t want to carry at the moment. That drops me down to forty-three credits, but covers my needs. An actual, minimal “efficiency” apartment where everything is fold-out in a single small room runs twenty-five credits a month if I look around a bit and don't mind getting a place out of the way (forty-five if I want a nicer location)… doable, but not great.
Finding a job is a simple matter: The local infosphere (think Internet) has plenty of help wanted search engines. I actually get two jobs: A “day shift” working engineering tasks for the station doing routine maintenance, and a “night shift” handling computer repairs for people. I “take ten” and just give it an average effort… and get eighty-two credits the first week that way (forty working computers, forty two doing engineering). Not needing to eat or sleep cuts my expenses considerably while also letting me work twice as much … which is handy.
And the two jobs STILL leave me to my own devices eight hours a day (well, more like six once I include travel time - I am walking basically everywhere, but I can generally get anywhere on my usual routes in under an hour). I spend my free time looking things up in the infosphere, especially looking for a starship job. Preferably a small starship: I want to minimize my exposure to whatever it is Patricia eats, but I also don't want to be a hermit.
After two weeks (which nets me a hundred sixty credits… I do spend a little bit every now and again), I manage to sign on as an engineer on a Kevolari Venture… at fifty-five credits a week. Yes, that's only a little over half of what I'm earning on station. And that's OK: I don't need much money, and there’s basically no expenses aboard ship. I have two weeks before I ship out, so I serve notice at my jobs, and just before we leave I convert a third of my credits to UPB's (also known as cash here), drop a third into an aggressive mutual fund on station, and keep the rest on my id. Well, after a few purchases; I mean, I need at least one set of formal wear, a zero gravity environmental suit, a set of party wear, an upgrade to an industrial backpack, a trap kit (which is used for removing traps, just in case that isn’t clear from the name), and a few other odds and ends… so I only end up having about a hundred credits in each storehouse. Still… as long as I don't lose all three, I'm fine.
And so there I stand, after four weeks on Absalom Station, at a docking port, ready to enter the ship I'll be on for at least the next few weeks. It's not a big ship, which is exactly what I want. Counting the captain, I have four crewmates… and this will be my first time meeting any of them. I did, however, get their photos, names, and positions.
The captain’s name is scent-based. It was written as “Eric” and had a note that it doesn’t translate to text. He’s a Dessamar imago, which is an insectoid species (still classified as humanoid, though) with four arms (although the arms are weaker, so he needs to use two to accomplish many tasks that a human would only need one to use, so…), butterfly wings (that do actually let him fly), and antennae that give him a fair idea what’s around him even if his eyes are closed. His wings have beautiful patterns of black, purple, red, and blue. The pilot’s name is Peter; he’s an android, with pale skin, blue eyes, blond hair, and circuitry on his cheeks that kind of looks like a rose to me. We also have two gunners - noted as brothers: Two Ysoki, who look like half-sized humans with oversized rat heads, fur, and tails. Apparently they can actually use their cheeks to store things, like hamsters. Their names are Zachery and Joseph. I can’t tell them apart from their pictures… I’ll need to figure that out once I actually see them. Yes, they’re all males: It’s a sausage fest. I plan on minimizing my changes, but it’s not like any of these would be particularly attracted to humans anyway, so… I’m probably fine.
I was hired mostly because I can do double-duty as both the engineer and the science officer; that made a nice selling point in the remote interview. They sent me some tests after the interview so I could prove it… and it seems they liked my results well enough: I’m here, after all.
The captain is inside the airlock as I approach, so I smile and salute, “Permission to come aboard, captain?” It seldom hurts to follow the forms when there’s not a time crunch: We have a few hours before we’re scheduled to leave.
Eric looks at me a moment, then returns the salute, “Granted Alex, welcome aboard.” His voice is a little higher pitched than I was expecting, and I kind of hear plates clicking together in there?
“Thank you. I’ve looked over the ship plans the boss sent me,” I had two weeks and several hours a day to prepare, so yes, of course I did, “but that didn’t include bunk assignments or anything. Do you have any preferences on where I should stow my gear?”
The captain makes something of a chittering sound, which the Culture skill tells me is laughter, “There are lockers behind the bunks; just use the one associated with whichever you end up selecting.”
Right. There’s a captain’s cabin… which is all of about three meters square… and everyone else gets bunks carved into the walls on either side of a short section of hallway that’s merely three feet wide… and happens to be between the mess and the bridge, so it’ll get a lot of traffic. This is most certainly not a luxury cruise… but at least the bunks have curtains. It’s a good thing I don’t actually sleep, but I don’t plan to let that slip for a while… which is why I have books on my phone… sorry, my personal com unit… and can connect it to the ship’s computer. So I plan to spend my off shifts reading.
I pick an unused bunk, check the locker to make sure it doesn't have any backdoors, stow my gear, lock the locker, and run an inspection tour of the ship. Yes, I've seen the basic plans, but that doesn't tell me about the actual ship. I'm going to need to be familiar with it if I'm going to keep it running: What paths power takes, what repairs have been done in the past, where all the various supplies are stored, and so on. Of course, while I'm at it, I also tour the ship - note the locations of the head (the ship is designed to accommodate only six crew members, so there's exactly one bathroom with a shower), the mess (more like a table and a few chairs next to the unit that turns what comes out of the crew into sanitary, nutritious mush… and coffee), the exercise area (a treadmill and something like one of those home gym units in a small room), the fabrication area (a workbench and a bunch of drawers full of tools where people can build minor items that the ship needs), the cargo holds (currently empty; I understand we just dropped off a bunch of foodstocks, and will be taking a load of manufactured goods to a mining outpost), and so on.
The rest of the crew is apparently on shore leave; the captain is the only other person on board at the moment. So after I finish my inspection tour, I settle down in my bunk and pull out my phone to read… as my head starts to throb.
I guess I didn't get out fast enough….
