Sound of Ceres
The empty apartment walls stared back as I took a final glance around. After my father died, I turned to weapons smuggling to survive on Earth – a path that had nearly consumed me. With no legal work available, this space mining job on Ceres, as dangerous as it was, offered something I desperately needed: a chance to leave my criminal past behind.
As the ship burst through the atmosphere, I found myself staring through the tiny viewport of the ship's cramped window.
Sadness gripped me as the precious planet shrank into the distance.
Beside me, an older man could barely contain his excitement. His eyes studied me with genuine curiosity. "What brings a young buck like you to mining on Ceres? Most would run from this kind of work."
"Needed to start over," I said quietly. "Begin a new life."
He nodded. "Carl," he said, extending his rough hand. "First time in the belt colonies?"
"First time this far out," I confirmed.
Before I could ask more questions, the captain's voice crackled through the intercom, announcing our immediate departure to Ceres via jumpspace.
The jumpspace transition hit like a sudden electric shock—my vision blurred, my stomach lurched, and for a brief moment, I felt like I was floating outside my own body, that familiar sensation of being turned inside out. When the disorientation cleared, we were already beginning our descent.
Silence fell throughout the ship as we landed on Ceres, a barren landscape of rock and salt mines stretching to the horizon. The mining company's recruiter, a short-tempered man, greeted us new recruits.
The giant doors to the mining base yawned open. As the two massive doors shut behind me with a heavy clank, I knew there was no turning back.
Day 1:
I opened my eyes in my assigned bunk bed, my eyes tracing the unfamiliar white ceiling. This was Ceres now — my reality. Mateo, my assigned roommate, was already up and moving about in the room. The room was designed for precisely two occupants.
"Better hurry if you want anything decent," Mateo said, adjusting his standard-issue mining suit. "The crew mess fills up fast."
"I'm not hungry," I replied, my stomach still unsettled from jumpspace and the recent gravity adjustment. "Go ahead without me."
Pushing myself up, I ventured into the passageway. Walking through it felt like being trapped inside a massive laboratory.
Attempting to locate the equipment office, I approached a maintenance droid. Its voice was noticeably inferior to Earth models—a metallic, hollow sound. "The equipment office is located on forward deck 11," it stated, optical sensors briefly scanning me before it continued on its programmed path.
Following the droid's directions, I navigated the passageway to the elevator.
When I finally reached the equipment office, an older man with steel-gray hair and a bionic arm stood behind a glass window. He looked up from his workstation as I approached.
"Name?" he asked.
"Emhyr Sato," I replied, watching as he turned to his digital tablet and began typing.
His brow furrowed as he scrolled through several screens. "That's strange,"
"I can't find your name anywhere in our database." He looked up, eyes narrowing slightly. "Your registration might not have been processed yet. Did they issue you an ID?"
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"Yes," I confirmed, reaching into my pocket to retrieve my identification card.
He extended his bionic arm, taking my card and scanning it with his enhanced ocular implants. The digital readout on his tablet refreshed immediately.
He gestured toward a security door that slid open. Beyond it lay a scanning station.
"Place your eyes directly on the screen," he instructed. After the scan completed with a confirming beep, he continued, "Good. Now we need to scan your entire body.
I stood still as the scanner performed a complete biometric analysis, the device emitting a low hum as it mapped my physical dimensions.
"Good. Wait here a moment," he said before disappearing into another room.
He returned shortly, carrying a mining suit primarily orange with striking white accents along with a helmet.
"Here you are." He set it on a preparation table. "You're all set up now. If there is any problem with the suit, come back here and I will check it out."
Day 2:
The mining suit fit perfectly as I examined my reflection in the full-length mirror. "First time in a Rover?" Mateo asked, watching me from where he was adjusting his own suit.
"Yes," I answered, glancing at my distinctive suit.
"The morning briefing starts in five minutes." Mateo checked his system watch.
We entered a large station hall room filled with digital displays of names and duties. Around twenty miners in yellow and black mining suits stood in a semi-circle, their conversation falling silent as I entered. Their eyes immediately transfixed on my distinctive suit.
"Team assignments have already been distributed," announced a stern-voiced woman. She checked her tablet with obvious irritation. "Deployment begins in five minutes."
The miners began dispersing toward their designated transport elevators.
"Mateo," she called out, not looking up from her tablet. "Late again. I should have expected as much."
Mateo grinned. "Sorry, Supervisor Lin. Was helping the new guy get suited up."
Supervisor Lin finally glanced up, her eyes narrowing at my unusual suit. "Sector 7 is waiting for your team. Since you always arrive late, you can take responsibility for showing your new colleague his way around. The rest of your team already deployed."
"Yes, ma'am," Mateo replied.
As we descended in the designated elevator, the sounds of the mining operation grew more distinct—a pulsing thoom that I could feel in my chest. Through the walls, I heard the harvester drones moving through the mining site.
"Mateo!" an old man shouted as we passed by. Mateo waved back at him.
As we approached a large, round door, Mateo announced, "To open the door, just place your ID card or enter your ID number here." He demonstrated the procedure, swiping his own card. With a soft hiss, the door slid open.
Beyond the doorway, I saw mining drones flying to collect extracted rocks and an escalator system full of mining salts. Maintenance droids and worker robots moved efficiently throughout the space.
While I was gazing around the area, a large man approached me. "Is that you, young buck?" he called out.
I immediately recognized the voice—it was Carl. He removed his mining helmet, revealing a familiar face.
"Where are the others?" Mateo asked, looking around the unusually empty sector.
"New project. They went to help Sector 9," Carl explained, then turned his attention back to me. "You're with me, young buck.
As time passed, I was handed a mining laser gun—standard equipment for breaking down larger mineral deposits into manageable fragments. Carl positioned himself beside me, demonstrating the proper grip and stance.
"Keep your arm locked when you fire," Carl instructed, adjusting my posture. "The kickback can throw off your aim if you're not—"
Suddenly, a sharp warning alarm cut through his words. We both snapped our heads up as a mining droid above us began to malfunction. Sparks and smoke erupted from its stabilizers as it plummeted from its overhead track.
"Look out!" Carl shouted, shoving me aside.
I stumbled backward, losing my balance. My hand shot out instinctively to catch myself and landed on a jagged piece of metal debris. Sharp pain tore through my palm as the metal punctured my protective glove and sliced into my skin. Just then, the malfunctioning droid crashed onto the exact spot where we had been standing seconds earlier, its components scattering across the floor.
"Shit! Stupid droid," Carl cursed, rushing to my side. His eyes went wide when he saw my hand. "Your glove—it's been punctured."
I lifted my hand to see a metal fragment extending from my palm, blood already spreading through the torn material.
Carl's face filled with worry. "We need to get you to the medical center immediately." He turned and called to Mateo, who quickly contacted the medical response team.
I was rushed to the medical center, blood continuing to spread from the puncture wound in my hand.
Upon arrival, a man in a white uniform with a southern accent and bright yellow eyes guided me to an examination chair.
He examined the wound carefully, cleaning away the blood to reveal the full extent of the damage.
He picked up a clear container with a golden-yellow liquid that glowed under the bright lights, the same color as his eyes. Using a special tool, he carefully put the liquid into the hole in my hand. The burning pain was replaced by a cool feeling right away.
"We're using our normal healing liquid with nanobots," he said. "The liquid will make you heal faster while the nanites fix the damaged parts inside."
After sealing the wound with a transparent dressing, he stepped back.
A sharp pain went through my head, causing my vision to blur momentarily. The sudden headache left me disoriented.
"The medical procedure can cause temporary neurological disruption," he said, watching me carefully. "You should rest and allow your system to stabilize."
