Ivan looked up—carefully, this time—and cursed the lack of windows. He was in space. Granted, asteroid mining wasn’t the most glamorous way to get there, but most avenues to space involved military commissions, significant wealth, or some specialty in high demand at the space stations or colonies. The child of climate-change refugees who lost everything when the ocean took their home, Ivan’s options were strictly limited.

He thought of his family, of the dead-end, soul-crushing job that was the best he could get despite finishing at the top of his Computer Science graduating class. The bug-infested, too-small apartment that was all he and Judy could manage on two salaries. This was their only way out. He would get this done. The pay was better to begin with, and if they hit any kind of significant mineral lode—

The shuttle jerked as maneuvering thrusters kicked in. The passengers endured several minutes of random accelerations—fortunately for Ivan’s stomach, all low-thrust.

“This pilot sucks,” muttered one of the crew. Ivan craned his neck to look over the seat backs and identified the speaker as Raul Alfaro. Dark-haired and olive-skinned, Alfaro spoke with a faint Spanish accent.

“Belay that, Alfaro,” barked another. “You’re a guest here.”

The rebuke came from Albert Micoroski, the pilot of the Mad Astra, sitting across the aisle from Alfaro. Pilots stuck together, and one wouldn’t tolerate bad-mouthing another’s flying. The Astra’s co-pilot, Lita Generus, added her glare for emphasis.

Before Alfaro could respond, a clunk resounded through the walls as the shuttle docked. Again, Ivan wished for windows. He might as well be on Earth in yet another simulator, for all the actual adventure he was getting.

They had just docked at Olympus Station, the hub for space travel anywhere in the system. The enormous, double habitation rings, a full kilometer in diameter, formed the most well-known and iconic image in the civilized world. The view during the approach must have been spectacular.

“There are lots of windows on the station, noob,” Robinson said, seeming to read his mind. “You can spend the next two days watching shuttles and ships come and go. As long as you pass the pre-flight, your time is your own, once we’ve met with the captain for the standard benediction. Star Lounge, half an hour. You know where that is?”

Ivan responded with a small shake of his head.

“Noobs…” Robinson rolled his eyes. “Just stick with me when we get into the station. You can handle free fall, I hope?”

* * *

Astronomical. The word didn’t apply to just stars and planets. Ivan scanned the drink menu and felt his eyebrows climb his forehead. He’d had steaks that cost less. Real steaks.

Davies, sitting across from him, laughed. “Yeah, noob, just one of many things you have to get used to. But not to worry. The locally produced stuff is much cheaper.”