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“Fizz?”
“Yeah, like a soda. I’m fun, according to the men. You’re safe in here. It’s a women’s block. The moment a man walks in it sets off an alarm. Brings the League guys down on them. They like to keep some say in how things are run. Some are good, you know. They’ll look out for you. Make sure you’re not touched. Others… well, just be careful.”
“I know. I’m fresh, yeah?” Freya’s shoulders slumped. Somehow she didn’t think Fizz would be her friend.
The room was tiny. She slid the bolt across the door and locked herself in. She’d become the prisoner who chose to lock herself up. The bed was slender, rather like the stasis cot and there was one chair, a table, a single stove, and a tap. No sink, just a bucket. The wet-room housed a cold shower, not that she fancied a hot one, but the idea of no hot water for the rest of her life was deflating. What she needed were the vouchers for food and bedding. More clothes, too. She unbolted the door and tiptoed down the corridor. Did she knock on a door and ask for help?
“Hello!” Her voice echoed along the walls.
“Hey, you?” Another woman stuck her head out of the door. “What you looking for?” She wiped her bleary eyes. “I’ve just got off shift.”
“I’m new and I don’t know where to get food or anything.”
“That useless Fizz, she’s supposed to help you. She’s the building monitor. Come on,” she yawned. “I’ll take you. I’m Tally. Where have you been put to work?” Tally blinked in the bright daylight and pointed along the path to one of the larger buildings.
“Laundry.”
Tally wrinkled her nose. “Could be worse. I always think the sewage plant is shit. Well, it is, of course, but working there is horrid. Laundry’s better than many. Hard work still. Long hours.”
They passed a few other people, each had some distinct feature—bald-headed men, tattooed faces, long noses or tiny ears, but everyone had the features of a humanoid and spoke the same language. “Everyone speaks Vendian,” Freya commented.
“Makes sense. We’re from all over the galaxy, different planets and colonies. We come here and the only language we have in common is Vendian. Of course, not everyone speaks it and has to learn. My mother taught me. She worked as a nanny for a Vendu family. You speak it good.”
“Thanks.” Freya plucked at the straps of her dress. “Do I have to wear this every day?”
Tally laughed. “No. You’ll have an overall to work in and a couple of dresses to cool off in. The laundry is damn hot.”
For the first time since she’d arrived, Freya had a sense of normality. Tally took her to receive her first set of vouchers—free ones. The next batch she’d have to earn. In the stores, she was given bedding, a cutlery set, and a pot for cooking on the stove. They also issued her with a bar of soap, but no shampoo. The food was basic—one voucher brought a day’s worth of food—some dried meat, fr
uit, and a powder, which Tally claimed made soup when mixed with hot water. Then there was the stash of crackers.
“These again,” Freya scowled. “They’re like cardboard.”
“You’ll get used to them. They’re high-energy crackers. Whatever you ate before you were here, forget all about it. This is it.”
Freya groaned. What she wouldn’t give for a cup of strong coffee.
Steam and the smell of carbolic acid filled the laundry. Vast vats churned countless sheets, while smaller ones were used for clothes. Tally hunted around for the foreman, a huge man with a limp.
“This is Otto,” she introduced.
Otto rubbed his chin. “Waif, aren’t you? Not much muscle on you.” He shook his head.
If Freya wasn’t carrying a load, she’d have slapped his face to prove she could pack a punch if needed. “Before I was sent here, I worked out. Daily.”
He snorted. “Then you’ll have no problems in the press room.” He showed where the clothes were flattened under large steamrollers before being folded into batches. “In here tomorrow. A break for lunch and the rest of the day, you work nonstop. Get it?”
A day of hell. She already hated the place.
Without Tally, Freya would have struggled to find the bland building where she now lived. The paths weaved about and the architecture throughout the colony was uniform. What she couldn’t fail to notice was the men eyeing her up. A few whistled and nudged each other.
“Two vouchers for a kiss?” A gruff voice shouted out from behind her, followed by a chorus of laughter.
“Ignore them. It’s just banter.” Tally picked up her pace. In her arms she carried the bundle of bedding while Freya scurried alongside her with the food stashed in the cooking pot.
They made the bed up together and Freya collapsed on it. “How do I know what time to wake up? I’m shattered and I don’t have a clock.”
“The bell rings in the morning at the beginning of the shift, and again at the end. Nobody has a clock. It’s down to the Vendu to determine the length of the day. You see, the suns never set at the same time. It’s never dark. That’s why there aren’t any windows. You’d never sleep with all that light.”
