Sam followed the rotund Darla up to the fourth floor. Inside the cabbagino bay, half of the Earth women were at work in the racks. Darla steered Sam with a rough hand on the upper arm to stand before one of the racks, then launched into a rapid-fire explanation of how to harvest and replant a hydroponic pod. The process required little intelligence, but proved time intensive. With the way the racks were stacked, it involved a lot of hunching over, kneeling, and stretching. Her back, shoulders, and arms ached before the first hour had passed. Her knees and feet joined the chorus before the second hour.

A good four hours passed, with Darla stalking the racks to enforce her rules. No talking. No slacking. No messing. The constant motion made the time pass quickly. The repetition and awkward postures made each moment stretch a small eternity. So when Darla called a break, they eagerly filed up to the fifth floor.

Jess was not part of this group, so Sam sized up the other women looking for a likely friend. Of the eleven women, only two appeared to be anything less than completely miserable. The first was a hefty black woman who gave the appearance of having a great time, laughing and giving a running commentary of their experience, which involved putting the word 'space' in front of a lot of things. She ate a grape and told the woman next to her that she sure did like space grapes. She drank some of the greenjuice and "mm-mmm, space juice". She sat on a floor cushion and announced she was relaxing on her space chair.

The second, a tiny hispanic woman, spun about the place like a tornado, handing out glasses of greenjuice and plates, then carrying trays around to offer everyone the various food items available. Roasted peanuts, mixed fruit, and cabbagino rolls stuffed with cherry tomatoes and fingerling potatoes and peas. Sam forced down one of the cabbagino rolls, then cleansed her palate with fruit. She sat next to the boisterous black woman, who was still narrating her adventures in space.

"Come on, ladies, I know I'm not the only one excited to take a space shower tonight."

A frail waspy-looking woman tsked. "Are you going to be doing the same space joke all the time?"

"Space joke!"

The frail woman rolled her eyes. "Well, you keep on with your theme, then."

"I will. And the name's Rhonda, by the way."

Sam leaned forward. "Don't you mean Space Rhonda?"

For a moment, Rhonda didn't look like she'd understood the quip, but then she burst into deep belly laughs. "Yeah. Yeah, that's right. I'm Space Rhonda now. What your name, girl?"

"Sam."

"Short for Samantha or do you have a boy name?"

"I shorten it to Sam."

Rhonda smacked the table. "Tell you what, Sam, everyone in here is acting too depressed. Like they thought they was going to be taking space walks or piloting ships or something. I'm just happy they don't have me working a fast food drive-thru."

The hispanic woman squeezed in between them while sipping some greenjuice. "I cleaned houses. This is much easier work. Maybe Angmari don't want us here, but Americans didn't want me there either."

"What's your name," Rhonda asked.

"Alicia."

"I'm Space Rhonda." She laughed. "And my friend here is Sam. Short for Samantha."

Darla reappeared. "Five minutes until we resume work. Be sure to clean up the common area."

Rhonda and Sam joined Alicia in putting away the uneaten food and collecting the plates and glassware. The other women seemed to teeter between despair and quiet rage. That was probably the sanest reaction to have in the situation. Fortunately, Sam had made new friends. Irrepressible Space Rhonda, industrious Alicia, and Ayla the Lentaran. Her best friend was somewhere in the same building, too, which provided some comfort. If they could figure out a way to get Darla fired, their existence might become something close to pleasant.

Back in the cabbagino bay, they completed the harvesting and replanting. They had to carry down what they had harvested to the industrial kitchen area in the loading bay. Each time she made another trip, Ayla greeted her as if they hadn't seen one another in days. The novelty wore off well before the fourth and final trip, but Sam dutifully shouted back a greeting every time. After how Darla had treated Ayla, Sam didn't think she had it in her to repress the quirky woman's nature.

They spent more hours going through the racks of cabbagino looking for signs of rot or mechanical malfunction. Each time a clogged line or dim bulb or grinding pump was discovered, Darla gathered everyone together to learn how to service the issue. Finally, the day ended. They trudged back upstairs, meeting the other group on the way. Most of the women immediately collapsed onto the floor. A few pulled out the food from earlier to pick over it. Sam shared a wide-eyed expression with Jess, preparing herself to launch into an epic tale of her day, when Alicia patted her back. "Come help me cook." Sam sighed and agreed. She waved for Jess to follow. Alicia approached Rhonda next and made the same request. Rhonda heaved herself up, looked around at all the women reclining on the ground, and shook her head. "Can't believe I'm gonna go cook for a bunch of women lounging around, like I'm the help or something. Guess I got to do it or my only friends will be working alone. Hey, who are you? I'm Space Rhonda." Jess managed to introduce herself without laughing and dinner preparations began.

Alicia led them in their efforts, improvising a meal from whatever items she found. Most of it went into an electric kettle for what Sam presumed was going to be soup. First was water and lentils, then fish went in -- though, Sam noted, not the same variety of fish Ayla had been filleting -- as did the cabbaginos Jess was dicing. Carrots, mushrooms, and zucchinis followed once Sam and Rhonda finished prepping them. Alicia had Sam stirring the soup while she set the others to work. Jess washed dishes that had not been cleaned from lunch. Rhonda and Alicia cut fresh fruit for the fruit tray.

The kettle grew incredibly hot in a short time, causing the soup to simmer and then actually boil before someone figured out how to adjust the temperature down. Not long after that they were able to begin ladeling out soup into bowls. Sam finally sat down with Jess, though they didn't talk until they had finished their first bowls.

"Oh my god," Jess began, "I was so close to throwing up on the way down."

"I know."

"Then I almost threw up again in the fish room. The filtration system is dis-gus-ting." She enunciated each syllable. "I only kept my barf down because I knew the fish would eat it and then we would probably eat one of those fish."

"It's the circle of life," Sam sang.

"Simba wasn't eating barf fish."

"He was more of a bug guy, if I recall."

Jess glanced around, then leaned in close. "You know Kistlen, the Angmari supervisor?"

"The one who thinks she's pretty?"

"Oh, does she ever. She won't get her hands dirty. Just plain refuses. It's like we're her minions or something. And we don't know how to do the work yet, because we're new, and she won't show us how, because it's beneath her. She just keeps pointing and giving vague advice."

"Sounds annoying," Sam said.

"You know the worst thing," Jess continued. "She is kinda pretty."

"She kinda is."

"Hate her."

"Totally hate her. We also hate Darla."

"That goes without saying," Jess said. "Does she get worse when you actually spend time with her?"

"She's an arm yanker."

"What does that mean?"

"She yanks people around when she wants them to go somewhere."

Jess shook her head. "So rude. Arm yanking."

"I know. And she won't let us talk when we're working."

"Not trying to undermine your complaints or anything, but you probably don't want to talk to the other women yet.

Everyone is having their worst day ever and it is not good conversation."

"Oh," Sam said, "we have new friends."

"Space Rhonda is a blast. See what I did there? And I really like how Alicia took charge of dinner. Three friends is a start."

"Four. The other supervisor, Ayla, is really nice."

"From what I've seen . . . ." Jess hesitated.

"Go ahead and say it."

"Is she not . . . neurotypical?"

"Definitely not neurotypical. The Angmari bred a race of docile people as servants. She's one of them."

The back-and-forth of their conversation halted. Jess stared at her. "What does that mean for our future?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "but that isn't even the craziest thing. Remember how that guy Lawrence on the shuttle told us that the Angmari have superpowers? He was right."

"Of course he was right," Jess said, "they did the thing . . . ."

Sam's eyes flew wide. "Jess, we can't talk about that!" They shouldn't even be thinking about that. Wait a minute. Was she being mind-controlled? No. Definitely not. Maybe? It was disloyal to the fleet to even think such a thing. What? She shook her head. With every bit of willpower she could scrape up, she forced words past her teeth. "They put something in my head."

Jess almost said something in response. She settled for nodding. They shared a meaningful glance before the door opened and Darla charged in with instructions that they had to be showered and in bed within the hour. After Sam put her bowl away, she turned back to Jess to resume their conversation.

"Where were we?"

Jess shrugged. "I can't remember exactly. But it's great that we're still together."