James was asleep when the first bell rang. He remained asleep through the second bell, and when the third bell went off he sort of snorted absent-mindedly and rolled over. Then the water hit him. Frigid, brackish, algae-filled, disgusting sinkwater which had been kept in a refrigerator at the previous day’s end rolled down his head and over his back and into the sheets on the bunk in his half of the room. This was not the way to start a day and as James rose to inform the thrower as to the insolence of their deed he found himself face-to-face with the captain.
“Welcome to the Ensler,” she sneered, not a small amount of excited irritation present in her voice. This was a woman who was ready for comebacks, and with that insight he rethought his decision and instead found himself inclined to wish her a very good morning while slinking his way toward what was left of breakfast. On a ship filled with people who are fine with- even embrace- thieving as a lifestyle choice, it is unwise to be the last person to engage in a communal activity. This reality being what it is, when James arrived in the mess hall he found rather less to eat than he would have liked. He plopped down next to Gareth and picked at the single globule of remaining oatmeal at the bottom of a gigantic serving bowl. There was one raisin in it, and that said all that needed to be said about his desire to eat it. He resolved then and there to either steal some food or wake up at a bell- whichever turned out to be easiest. After adding a mental note to find and befriend the cook he realized that the captain had waded in among the crew. She was good looking, he had to admit. A little severe, maybe, but all in all a fairly attractive woman. Then she caught him looking at her and stalked across the room. He felt as though he had made a mistake.
“Hungry?” she asked, not a trace of concern and more than a little ridicule in her voice. Still, James decided to ignore the tone and take his one shot at a pity meal.
“Yeah. Is there, I dunno, more, I guess?”
“Nope. Yogurt until lunch. This is what happens when you can’t wake the fuck up, ladies,” she yelled to the rest of the crew. James thought this was perhaps a little much, but given the leer-laughs of her audience it seemed his feelings were in the minority. He HAD forgotten about the yogurt, though, so her plan had actually backfired slightly. Coffee or no coffee, yogurt was yogurt and sustenance was sustenance. There was, in fact, more to eat. So there. He’d just arrived at this self-satisfied place when he realized she hadn’t finished talking and that he might be being used as even more of an example of what not to do. This was disappointing.
“This guy is a moron. The rest of you seem to get how working works. You there: Giant Man. What’s your name?”
“Name’s Gareth.”
“Gareth. You his friend?”
“Well, saved his life. Sorta oh-bligated toward friendship, ain’t I?” James didn’t appreciate the wavering on this, and not even the playful shove Gareth gave him after saying it made it better. The crew laughed harder, which was also not particularly appreciated.
“Obligated or not, he’s your responsibility now. Friends and shit. We’re not taking care of him until he works for it.”
“I gotcha, Cap. Trust ol’ Gareth. He’ll be on time tomorrow.” Gareth leaned down and sniffed James’ head. “’Course, seems like you done took care of that one.” Even the captain laughed at this, a kind of short bark that escaped involuntarily. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who laughed at much, and certainly never at anything funny. It occurred to James that she must have some sort of superpower, because in any other situation he would have mumbled this under his breath, but in this one he knew intuitively that she had the room and could cut him apart in an instant. This was not ideal, so he instead quietly thought nasty thoughts and consoled himself by remembering that she could never take that away.
After the captain walked out with the official crew- minus Dave, who had seemed to be on the way out even before they’d left the planet and who was now in the medbay waiting for the medic to come back from breakfast so he could continue complaining- James looked up at Gareth, who was smiling his biggest smile and clearly doing all he could not to laugh. Apparently that wasn’t much because he let out a giant guffaw after just a couple of beats and then looked over at Grant, to whom he announced: “Now THAT’s a woman. I like her.”
“Yes I do rather enjoy her approach towards…I don’t know, the galaxy in general I suppose. She seems so swaggering.”
“Swaggerin’. Yeh, that’s it. Swagger. I like her.”
“We heard you, Gareth,” James spat angrily. “And also: ‘obligated towards friendship’?”
“Yer just mad ’cause she dumped water on yeh and then made fun o’ yeh.”
“Yes. That’s exactly why I’m mad.”
“Well yeh better get over it. Seemed pretty serious ’bout you doin’ yer part.”
“Yeah well-”
“And I don’ plan on lettin’ her think I’m a shirker too. So yeh can either follow me righ’ now or yeh can sit here alone. Or go fin’ Dave. I’m sure he’d like the comp’ny.”
“I’m not going to sit with Dave. Where are we going?”
“Work, kid. We’re goin’ to work. Should be fun.”
Yeah, fun, thought James. Work should be fun. He hated spaceships before, and this new one certainly wasn’t proving him wrong by any stretch of his soaked and smelly imagination. He made a note to race to the shower after work. His mental notepad was filling quickly, and he did not appreciate it.
