Chapter 10

“Next,” The clerk called out. An anonymous figure stepped up to the table, Josh Rodriguez continued. “Let’s see your ID, Work authorization, and medical review.”

When none of the required documents were offered, Josh impatiently continued. “Look, folks,” He glanced up and at Senior Captain Lee. Embarrassed, his tone changed. “Captain Lee Sir, I didn’t see you.”

Richard Lee chuckled, “It’s OK Josh, How’s the recruiting going?”

“Pretty much as I expected, Sir. A lot of rock, very little ore.”

“Well, keep it up. Just remember, we can train talent. We can’t train temperament. So keep an eye out for stable families.”

“I know, Sir, but it’s hard sometimes. A lot of these folks are so desperate to get off the station. They claim a family relationship that formed 5 minutes earlier in line. I’ve seen 6 or 7 supposed couples with the same wife or husband.”

“Good man. Keep your eyes open for that. Grandmother doesn’t want a bunch of hookers or con artists setting up shop. Have you seen any talents come through?”

“Well, not a lot. If they’re on the watch list, I send them over to Captain Anderson. There’s been a couple of med techs. Plus, a doctor, but I think he’s probably a drunk. A half dozen scout pilots. Mostly it’s abandoned immigrants. The dirt side recruiters fill them full of crap, take their money, and then dump them off. We’re also getting folks from the Phobos massacre.”

“I know Josh. It’s been that way for years. Dreamers always believe the grass is greener.”

“Grass, Sir?”

Richard shook his head and sighed, “Never mind, Josh. Just keep up the good work.”

Martha and I had been the next in line when this man had cut in front of us. He had been smiling and nodded towards Martha. Between the two of us, we couldn’t really say anything. It is evident from his uniform that he was somebody important to the Sutter’s Mill.”

Martha and I were in trouble. All of the rations that we had packed in our bug-out bags were gone. What money we had was company script and useless outside of the company stores on Phobos. We couldn’t even sell it at a discount. It would have branded us as refugees from Phobos, and that was a dangerous thing.

The Mars authorities were sympathetic towards us, but that was as far as it went. They refused the Federation and Company demands that all refugees be turned over to them. But that didn’t stop the Company from offering bounties for what they called “Deserters.”

Between the two of us, we decided to take Sergeant Major Tucker’s final advice to us and try to get hired on to one of the independent shops.

When the ships officer stepped out of the way, we stood at the table. The clerk asked, “Let’s see your ID, Work authorization, and medical review.”

This was probably the most embarrassed I had ever been in my life. Neither of us had any documentation other than our Phobos Mining ID. “Please, Sir. We don’t have any of that.”

The clerk looked up at us. Taking in the clothing, we were wearing. We were wearing the best of the two sets of coveralls we had. They were well worn, patched, and mended. Our shoes were probably the best things we had on. The first thing a Phobos miner learned was to get the best work boots possible. I had lived on issue rations for six months just to pay for those boots. Even still, it was obvious that they were heavily used and abused.