The decontamination spray sent a cold chill down Rush’s spine as the chemical bath hosed him down. After that came the torrent of cold water, and the baking heat that served to dry them off. The cleansing process had become routine by now, but it never got any more pleasant. Rush went through the motions without complaint, then retrieved his belongings and his armor.

  There was no drama retrieving the armor this time. A few soldiers—trooper Cordell among them—kept a cautious eye on the suit as it moved along the decontamination belt, but no one dared to touch it. From above, in the command center along the wall, Commander Howle kept an eye on the process. She gave Rush a single nod as their eyes met. Her gaze made Rush feel colder than the icy shower earlier. The Commander soon turned her attention to other matters, and Rush moved as far from her as he could.

  The entire Caelum Clan rallied not far from the decontamination zone, and began to divvy up their scrap to haul towards the processing center. Hartwell, as always, took command.

  “Jen, handle the circuitry,” he began. “Liam, you’re on precious metals. Shivam, you take Kell Cells and intact technology. I’ll take-”

  A thunderous rumble from above shook the ground. A few of the panels on the rusty scrap walls that made up the half-hearted “city” surrounding them came loose and fell to the ground. Hartwell stood his ground and looked up at the massive ship casting a shadow over the city. One of the Revanchism’s docking bays had opened up, and a smaller vessel was descending towards the Hub.

  “Change of plans,” Hartwell said. “Shivam, take over offloading the scrap. Liam, Jen, with me. We’re doing recruitment.”

  Everyone knew what that kind of ship meant. Most of them had been hauled to Scrapworld on a vessel just like it. A new round of Junkers was being brought in.

  “You come too, kids,” Hartwell said, as he turned to Giza and company. “Just in case.”

  It was rare for children to be sent to Scrapworld, but not unheard of. Teeangers showed up every few batches, and sometimes entire families were sent at once, children and infants included. The Republic found it more efficient to ship families out together, no matter how high the childhood mortality rate on Scrapworld was.

  As the recruitment group headed out, Rush tagged along, trailing the rest of the group with a curious glint in his eye. As a solo Junker, he’d never seen the recruitment process. He’d often tried to worm his way into new Junker clans, but his way had mostly consisted of showing up and trying to be useful.

  By the time Caelum clan arrived, several other small recruiting bands from other clans had formed ranks around the arrival area. Hartwell stepped aside to join some other clan leaders for a quick council. Their conference was short, and Hartwell stepped back to rejoin his clan and let the Opiuchus clan leader step up as their collective spokesman. He stood atop a small platform of scrap as the ship landed and the new prisoners disembarked.

  Rush locked his eyes on the vessel doors and watched as the first prisoner’s stumbled out. A few wandered out of the ship on their own, to face the blazing sun of Scrapworld, but most had to be forced out of the ship by the guards. As always, a few clung to the doors of the ship kicking and screaming, still protesting that there had been some kind of mistake. That stubbornness left them when the first protester took a fist to the face from a guard. By the time the unfortunate visitor had gotten off the ground and spat the blood out of their mouth, the ship’s doors had been closed and the vessel was starting to take off. Once the roar of the engines had dulled, the Opiuchus clan leader raised his hands and waved them at the crowd.

  “Alright, alright, everyone gather round and quiet down,” he said, trying to manage a few hundred people at once. It took a few rounds, and some backup from the other clan leads, before the disorderly mob got under control. “Okay, listen up. Nobody go anywhere until you’ve heard what I have to say. You’re on Scrapworld now, and believe me when I tell you Scrapworld will kill you if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  The new arrivals already looked nervous, and the dire warning did nothing to improve their mood.

  “Some of you may be thinking about running off on your own, finding a big score, getting out of here quick and easy,” the spokesman continued. “I’ll tell you now, that’s not going to happen. If you go out on your own, the luckiest break you’ll get is coming back alive. Me and the others here represent clans, groups of Junkers who work together. Join up, do your part, learn the ropes, and you stand a chance of making it through your time here alive.”

  He offered a few more cursory instructions and then stepped down. Despite his warnings, some of the new arrivals broke off and headed into the city on their own. Hartwell sent Liam to try and flag some of them down, but he soon returned empty-handed. Then it came time to focus on those with more common sense.

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  Most made a beeline directly for the Opiuchus clan. A natural reaction, given their spokesman, and part of the reason there was always a debate on who got speaking rights. The rest broke up into smaller groups -or towards one lone man on the sidelines, who was calling out to a few select men and women he saw in the crowd. Rush stared at the lone anomaly in the recruitment area long enough that Giza got uncomfortable.

  “Rush, you’re staring.”

  “I want to know who he is.”

  “You haven’t figured it out already?” Jack said. “That’s Graham. He owns the-”

  Giza whacked Jack on the shoulder before he could finish that sentence. Rush drew the conclusions on his own anyway.

  “Oh. He must own the brothel,” Rush concluded. Given Giza’s embarrassment about the topic, and the fact Graham was only recruiting conventionally attractive young men and women, the conclusion was obvious.

  “You know what a brothel is?”

  “Yes, Giza, I know about sex,” Rush said flatly. It took a few seconds for Eiffel to stop giggling. While Eiffel struggled to stop laughing, Hartwell struggled to get any recruits.

  “It’s a difficult task,” Hartwell said. “You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone in any clan who’s actually paid their way out.”

  “Then what’s the point?”

  “The point is having a chance,” Hartwell said.

  “A chance to what, slave away for the rest of my life?”

  “There’s still-”

  Before Hartwell could continue his speech, Jen put herself between Hartwell and the prospective recruit.

  “Look, youngblood,” Jen spat. “You’re here. If you want to live, you work. You want another alternative, there’s a ridge a few miles east of the city.”

  “A ridge? What’s a ridge good for?”

  “Jumping off of,” Jen said. “You could also starve to death, but it’s a hell of a lot slower. Jumping’s best.”

  The new recruit looked like they were about to throw up. Jen did not ease up.

  “Your choice. Work. Or jump.”

  “At Caelum clan we have soft beds, time to rest, enough food for everyone,” Hartwell said, trying to put a positive spin on things again. “We take care of our own. This isn’t a good place to be, as my friend made very clear.”

  Hartwell tried not to glare at Jen too hard.

  “But a hard life can be made easier,” Hartwell said. “Caelum clan is the place for that.”

  In spite of the sales pitch, the new recruit wandered away. Hartwell gave Jen a stern glare, and she showed absolutely no remorse. All she did was point out two new recruits lining up in front of Hartwell. He sighed and reset himself.

  “Nice to meet you. Hartwell Verner,” he said. “Who are you, and what brings you here?”

  “Lieut- Arthur Reynolds, sir,” the young man said. He had a round, smooth face, just barely showing signs of stubble. The kind of person Scrapworld would eat alive if allowed to. “I’m here on a sentence of dereliction of duty.”

  “Military man,” Hartwell said. “I’m going to offer you a free piece of advice, Arthur. Don’t tell anyone you’re ex-military.”

  “No one here is fond of soldiers,” Jen said. “Formerly or otherwise.”

  “Right. I, uh, heard what you said about taking care of your own,” Arthur said. “I think I can be a part of a team like that, if you’ll allow it, sir.”

  “Stop calling me ‘sir’ and we’ll see,” Hartwell said. “Welcome to Caelum clan. Feel free to introduce yourself to my associates here.”

  Arthur walked right past Jen and went to introduce himself to Rush and the other teens. Apparently they weren’t much younger than him. As Arthur joined the crowd, the second man stepped up. Where Arthur was squat and round, this man was tall, lithe, and slick as a snake. He brushed a thin black moustache and then extended his hand to Hartwell.

  “Shinji Aso,” the newcomer said. “Sentenced for insurance fraud. Pleasure to meet you.”

  “Mr. Aso,” Hartwell said. “What makes you think you’re a fit for Caelum clan?”

  “I think I like comfortable beds, and apparently you have them,” Shinji said. He extended his hand to Liam in turn. After a moment’s hesitation, Liam shook it.

  “You’ll have to sell yourself a little better than that,” Hartwell said. “We work together, Mr. Aso, I want to know the kind of man you are.”

  “I think we can find out on the job,” Liam said. “He’s young, he’s fit, he’s willing to work. Let’s take him, Hartwell.”

  “We put our lives in each others hand here at Caelum clan, I’d like to know-”

  “I like him,” Rush said. Hartwell turned around to face Rush. It was odd he was saying anything unprompted, much less on behalf of a stranger. “I think we should let him join.”

  “Well, that’s a bright young man,” Shinji said. “But if you need more convincing, I can tell you more about myself.”

  Hartwell locked his eye on Rush for a few seconds. The teen was immovable, and unreadable, but utterly fixated on Shinji Aso.

  “I trust Rush’s judgment,” Hartwell said. “Welcome aboard, Shinji.”

  Shinji bowed politely and then joined the slowly-growing crowd behind Hartwell. When all was said and done, Caelum clan had only recruited a few dozen of the hundreds of new arrivals. They had a reputation as being slow workers -while some were willing to sacrifice efficiency for comfort, most wanted to produce profit and pay off their debt as fast as possible. Hartwell took whatever he could get, and hauled his new recruits out of the city as soon as possible.

  On their way out the gates, Rush looked up at the command center. Commander Howle was still there, watching them as they moved out. Arthur glanced up at her as well, and received no acknowledgment.

  Once they were past the gates, Hartwell showed his new recruits to the sleeper hauler, introduced them to their fellow Junkers, and then left them to their own devices. As soon as Shinji was out of earshot, Hartwell grabbed Rush and pulled him aside.

  “Alright, Rushmore,” Hartwell said. “Why vouch for Shinji?”

  “To keep an eye on him,” Rush said. “He wasn’t on the ship, Hartwell.”

  “What?”

  “He wasn’t on the ship. He showed up later, got lost in the crowd on purpose,” Rush said. “I don’t think anyone else noticed him in the confusion.”

  Hartwell glanced over his shoulder at the sleeper hauler, where Shinji was in the midst of setting himself up with a bunk.

  “Why would someone pretend to be a new prisoner?”

  “I don’t know,” Rush said. “But I’d like to find out.”