“OK,” I say, so done with this place already. “Where do I get a pass?”
“Right over there.” She points to a line that’s sixty billion people long. “When you get that I’ll be happy to help you in any way I can.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“No.” She smiles. “I’m being totally serious.”
“You’re telling me this place has no wireless storefront to buy passes?”
“That’s no fun,” she quips. “Then the kids would miss all this Mighty Dragon interaction!”
Right.
I turn and force my way through a crowd of screaming brats and get in line.
Two hours later I have my pass and the reception hall is temporarily empty because this docking bay is on break. Mighty Dragon is gone, all the ambassadors are gone, and the second I turn back to the window where I just stood in line for two hours to pay my seven-thousand-credit-entrance fee (because in order to access the community boards I had to buy a freaking family pass) I find it closed for lunch.
Fine. I am goddamned Jimmy of Harem Station. I don’t need a fucking Mighty Ambassador to find my way around this dump.
I flash my pass at the gates—which are automated, go figure—and enter the resort.
In front of me is a choppy red lake with orange and red holo flames coming off the surface. Which is creepy as fuck if you ask me, but whatever. Not my kid’s nightmares.
My tunnel vision kicks in when I spot the nearest data access point and I head diagonally across the concourse, weaving in and out between sugared-up kids, and breathe a sigh of relief when I flash my pass and the screen lights up with a green banner across Mighty Boss’s face that says, Access Granted!
Success.
I navigate to the corporate boards searching for the jobs posting in maintenance. I scan the ‘for hire’ section first—on the off chance someone competent is promoting their sentient ship skills—then resign myself to posting my own job because of course they’re not.
I finish, link the community board to my Mighty Pass, then stare at it. Tapping my foot, impatiently waiting for someone to ping me back.
Nothing. I press Dicker’s comm tab on my wristband—fucking cavemen, all of them. Because I really miss my air screen right now—and start complaining before she even gets a chance to ask me how I’m getting along.
“This fucking place might as well be back in the dark ages. Do you know how long I had to stand in line to get a Mighty Pass? In line, Dicker. These people have lines.”
“Two hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty-seven seconds. Mighty Time.”
“Smartass.”
“I saw seven thousand credits drain from our accounts and almost shit my ship.”
“I can’t access the data boards without a pass.”
“Scammers.”
“Right? And no one has even answered my ad yet.”
“How long ago did you post it?”
“That’s not the point,” I say, kinda fed up. “All these kids, and parents, and fucking balloons are starting to get on my nerves.”
“I think you’re hungry. You’re turning into a diva.”
“No, I’m not!”
“Go eat, Jimmy. I’m sure everyone is at work right now and they won’t even be looking at the jobs board until later.”
“I’m coming back to the ship.”
“No. I just checked their exit policy. If you leave the resort you have to pay to get back in.”
“I bought a damn family pass!”
“Only good one stay. You have to eat and sleep on the resort until we hire someone. That’s how they define ‘stay.’”
“Goddammit!”
“Sorry,” she chirps. “I didn’t make the rules. And you’d be even madder if you came back on ship and then had to pay again.”
I sigh. “This day can go fuck itself.”
“I don’t know. It’s not so bad. I’m playing strip poker with another ship on the other side of the station.”
“Dicker, we can’t afford to lose any parts right now.”
“Lose? Please. Give me some credit. I’ve already won a new water generator. I’m about to take this bitch’s autokitchen too.”
“We don’t even have room for a whole kitchen.”
“I’ll just cash it in for credits to make up for that stupid Mighty Pass. Keep me posted. Later.”
CHAPTER FOUR – DELPHI
We wait in line for ninety-nine minutes before we’re allowed to dock at the station and I spend all ninety-nine of those minutes fuming because the Big Dicker got special emergency priority and docked a long time ago.
“How the hell will I even find him?” I ask Queenie.
“I’ve been playing strip poker with Dicker for the past ten minutes. We owe her a water generator.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“Is that a real question?”
I take a deep, deep breath and remind myself this ship holds my life in her hands. And even though I am her legal responsible party, I’m pretty sure no one but Tycho would miss me if I turned up dead from a life support failure.
“Anyway,” Queenie says. “Dicker’s docked over in Flame Lake Sector. Just head that way. I’m sure he’ll be easy to pick out. Just look for the annoyed single guy. And make sure you take your wristband. Family passes are seven thousand credits and you’ll need that to access the job’s board.”