6 years to life

A button flashed blue, emitting a small beep to alert the pilot of its readiness. Prink hesitated briefly, watching the asteroid field for exactly the right moment and then...

FFFFFFLASH

The Star Ox was suddenly millions of miles away. Prink blinked rapidly, adjusting his dark eyes to the bright planet below him.

Years of flying the same seven planets had been a drag on his spirit, shuffling his star freighter from one local station to another, but the day had come and he was prepared. This was it, the last haul. Once the Ox was docked and unloaded he was a free man at long last.

He punched in the coordinates for Kenubri station. The Ox was old and beaten, but she was reliable and Prink made sure to take good care of the systems that mattered. Sure, she didn’t have an expensive VR system or luxurious living quarters, but Prink’d never had to add 8 months of service to his contract for an unexpected mid-trip mobile repair call either.

The docking took about 15 minutes, but most of the work was automated. It was the wait for a free dock that took the longest, and Prink waited nearly 5 hours this time. Thankfully it required little effort once docking permissions were given and authenticated, as computers handled the rest. The days of messy manual space navigation were decades gone, and for the better.

Prink spent the time packing his bag for a stay at La Gran Real, the classiest hotel in the Sutuba system, in celebration of the completion of his contract. It had taken him over a year to save up the money to pay for eleven days in a deluxe room there. It was well deserved and greatly anticipated.

As the airlock sealed and pressurised, and the doors began to open, Prink began to smell the station’s sterilised air recyclers. Every station had its own scent, and Kenubri put him in mind of the hard lollies his nana used to give him as a child. Not an unpleasant memory, but he hated those damn lollies.

Kenubri was a busy place. Very much a hub of travel for Sutuba. As soon as the doors opened a wave of white noise flooded Prink’s ears. The hustle and bustle of people coming and going and talking and eating. The docking bays were always crowded. They were the natural location for entrepreneuring individuals to build their fast food restaurants and pubs. Hungry and thirsty cargo haulers rarely had more than the hour or so it took to have their cargo offloaded before they had to leave. Renting a dock was expensive after all.

Prink made his way over to the docking reception. He recognised one of the receptionists and waited in line for her.

“Kara, how are you?”

The lady smiled. She was a kind sort whom Prink had been acquainted with for some years. She’d been working the same job for nearly as long as he’d been a freighter captain.

“Hello Mr. Prink, I’m very well thank you. How about yourself? I don’t think I’ve seen you looking so happy in... well ever”

Prink realised he had a dopey half grin on his face. But he couldn’t help it. Today was the day. Eighteen years of work and today was the day.

“My contract just finished”

Kara’s smile disappeared. Prink felt eyes on him. He looked to his left and the receptionist next to Kara was gazing open mouthed at Prink. As were a couple of customers. Once he looked their way however, they all turned away hurriedly.

“Your contract is up Mr. Prink?” Kara had leaned forward and lowered her voice, as though sharing a secret or a juicy bit of gossip “How did you do that?”

“Eighteen years of hard work miss Kara. Eighteen long years. Now I believe I owe you some docking fees”

Kara nodded and tapped away at her console. After a minute she turned back to Prink.

“Okay Mr. Prink, that’ll be... well I suppose you’re not looking to pay with a contract extension are you” she laughed weakly, and Prink smiled and shook his head.

“That’ll be $400”

“I’d like to have my ship stored for the next twelve days as well please”

“Okay, that brings the fees up to... let me see here... $1700”

Prink grimaced and nodded. He pulled out his card and placed it in the reader. A small tone indicated the transaction was successful. Kara then placed a pad on the countertop.

“If you wouldn’t mind”

Prink placed his hand on the pad, which traced his fingerprints and DNA, giving the dock valets access to the Star Ox to park and store.

“Thank you Mr. Prink. You have a nice day... and congratulations”

Prink smiled and nodded before walking away. His shuttle for Hundershire, home of La Gran Real, was due to leave in four hours time. Plenty of time to get some grub and have a stiff drink.

His favourite restaurant was a relatively out of the way little dive that sold greasy fries and the best burgers this side of Earth itself. The clerk took his order and asked for payment.

“Contract number?” The clerk asked.

“Uh no, no contract”

The clerk looked visibly confused for a second before realisation dawned on him.

“Ohhhh, okay sir. My apologies. Um, Employment ID then please”

Prink frowned a little “I don’t have an Employment ID, those are expensive”

“Sir if you don’t have a contract number or employment ID I can’t serve you, I’m sorry. Not unless you have an Earth citizen certificate number”

Absolutely ridiculous, Prink thought. Only rich folks have Earth citizen certificates.

“So... you won’t give me food?”

“I’m sorry sir, I need a contract number or ID before I can take your money. I don’t want to get in trouble”

“Fine. Fine” Prink stomped away. He’d just have to get food from the supermarket.

The next four hours proved to be very trying for the newly contract free freight captain. Everywhere he went he bumped into similar problems. Eventually he found a little deli well into the station that sold to him without requesting his contract number. The kebab he bought wasn’t even very good. The meat was overcooked and dry.

So it was a rather cranky Prink who stepped up to the shuttle boarding area. The flight attendant at the gate smiled and waved him over.

“Hello sir, are you boarding today?”

“Yes please, I have my ticket” he held up his ticket for her to scan. The scanner beeped affirmative.

“Do you have your passport Mr. Prink?”

He handed it to her and she scanned it through. But her brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry sir, it looks like you don’t have permission to travel interplanetary at the moment. I think you need to speak to someone at the customs office. You can find it just down the hall on the left”

Prink just stood there for a moment, a little stunned. He’d never been denied interplanetary travel in his life. He was an upstanding man, never convicted of any crimes in any systems, he had no debts and he’d even finished his contract.

“I’m not sure I understand miss, you said I don’t have permission to travel? Why?”

The flight attendant put on a sympathetic face.

“I’m really sorry sir, I just don’t know. That’s a question for the customs office”

Prink sighed and nodded. He turned away, taking his ticket and passport with him. Now he not only had to deal with customs, he had to try and get his ticket replaced and hope that he wouldn’t be late for his reservation at La Gran Real and risk losing his room.

The crowded station seemed to fly past in a blur as Prink made his way to the customs office. He had a feeling in his stomach, a kind of empty sickness welling up and threatening to overtake him. Apprehension, perhaps even dread. It felt naive to hope for an easy solution, but what else was there to do?

At the customs office he gave his name to the receptionist and had to wait a short while before a burly man in a suit came out and shook his hand.

“Mr. Prink?”

Prink nodded

“I’m Harvey. Harvey Arwall. Ann tells me that you’re here about your travel permissions?”

“Yes. Apparently I have none, which I don’t understand. I’m not a felon, and I travelled on the public system just three months ago”

Harvey nodded his head and invited Prink into his office. It was a nice enough little room, with a real wood desk, pictures of a family and a realistic digital window. Harvey was doing okay in life.

Harvey tapped on his console for a short while before turning to the agitated Prink.

“So, your travel permissions are currently revoked because you don’t have a contract number. Have you recently transferred over to another company?”

Prink groaned a little and put his head in his hands.

“Not again. Not this again. My contract just ended. I finished it. I worked it off. I shouldn’t need a contract to just be able to go to a hotel for a week and a half and relax after eighteen years of work”

There was a long silence. Eventually Harvey spoke.

“So... look. There’s a whole mess of legalities, but the fact is that everyone needs a contract, an employment ID or an Earth citizen certificate. If you don’t have one of those three things, you can’t get served anywhere, you can’t travel, you can’t buy a ship, you can’t do anything. You’re meant to have a contract. You’re a contract worker. We all are. Everybody signs their contract when they turn old enough to work. You can transfer your contract, you can extend it... but you can’t end it. Not really. No contract worker can ever afford an Employment ID application, and even if they can, it’ll just get denied. And everybody knows that only Earthborn folks get an Earth citizen cert”

Prink stared down at his hands.

“So what you’re saying is... I’m stuck”

Harvey chewed his lip for a second.

“No. You’re not stuck. You can sign a contract renewal. It solves all of your problems” Harvey pulled out a piece of paper and set it in front of Prink, along with a pen.

“And signs me up for another eighteen years of work for the same company, in the same job”

“It doesn’t have to be eighteen years, and you can always transfer your contract, use a contract extension to get a nice house. It’s not all bad. This is how life is for us”

Harvey sat and put a comforting hand on Prink’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry Mr. Prink. It’s just how the system works”

With a sigh Prink picked up the pen and signed the contract renewal.

6 years.