Chapter 5

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"It is time to get up, child. They have zero tolerance for slacking."

"I'm getting there," I say, rubbing my eyes to get the fog out. The woman in front of me looks sixty years old. Why on earth are they keeping someone who should probably be retired in their mining sweatshop?

"Come with me," she says, extending her hand. I take it and use her to hoist myself up. The room is alive with fifteen or so other people, all scrambling to get busy. "Let us get you some appropriate clothes. Your supervisor will not like what you are currently wearing."

"Umm, okay."

She leads me to a small closet full of dirty, light-blue jumpsuits. The two adjectives are almost opposites, but they managed it somehow. I pick one that looks almost the right size, and slip it on over my normal clothes.

"Why are you helping me?" I ask.

"That attitude is exactly why," she answers. "You are lost. I can tell you do not belong on this island. Also, I do not recommend layering like that. You will get very sweaty from the work."

"I'm not taking my clothes off in front of all these strangers. And I don't think any of us belong here, to be fair. We're literally prisoners right now."

"You are too young to be here, mixed in with this crowd. No matter what you did to be in this position, this place and the men who run it are unjust. My name is Mary. I try to help everyone, and today, you have my full attention."

"Luna," I say, "and thanks, I guess. I don't want to sound rude, but you seem to be a little too old to be here."

"My life is full of many mistakes, Luna, but my biggest was taking one too many loans with the wrong group. You are right, none of us should be stuck in this awful place, but we cannot change that. Our times to leave will come, and we will be free."

Great. Another person shipped away for poor money management. Did anybody here actually do anything wrong, or were they all unfortunate?

Once again, she has me follow her to a separate room, where I stand in line with the three transplants I was shipped here with last night. They're also clad in the blue jumpsuits.

"I must leave you now, Luna," Mary whispers, backing out of the room. "Good luck today. If you need anything later, find me. I will be cleaning one of the ships."

"Not so fast, woman," a voice says from behind us. I recognize the owner immediately. Goosebumps line my neck and arms, and my jaw tenses angrily.

Mary slumps her shoulders and joins the four of us in line. Looks like she doesn't want to cross the big baddy, either.

"So glad to see you again," Slaphand says, appearing in front of us. "I hope you slept well."

"What'd you do with my cat, you freak?"

"Don't worry. He's in good hands."

"I wouldn't say 'good' hands. 'Monstrously large,' maybe."

"That's no way to talk to your supervisor, now, is it?"

Of course. Of course he's my supervisor. Why not? It's not like this was already an awful situation. Actually, I needed more reasons to hate this place.

"As you'll remember, the position of Excavation Overseer has an opening, and so that's what you'll be doing. I'm glad one of your fellow inmates took the liberty of getting you dressed, but you'll be wearing a yellow set instead."

"Oh, you poor child," Mary says next to me.

"And what exactly does that mean?" I ask, ignoring Mary's comment.

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