Violet woke with a start, the metallic taste of sleep heavy in her mouth. She had been drooling, a dark patch dampening the gray fabric of her thin pillow. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling, feeling a strange, lingering vibration in her bones, as if she had just stepped off a moving platform. There was a faint shadow of a dream, but it dissolved the moment she blinked.

  Strangely, she felt like she was forgetting something, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find anything missing. Keeping away from the floating paranoia, she moved through her routine like a ghost. She swilled a bitter, neon-blue mouthwash that stung her gums and took a lukewarm shower that smelled faintly of rust.

  As she pulled on her daily tunic, her fingers snagged. She looked down and sighed. A jagged hole had opened near the hem, and another frayed gap stared back from the shoulder.

  I'll fix it later, she thought.

  She sat on the edge of her creaky bed, staring at the crumpled pamphlet of Service Options. The deadline was a black dog nipping at her heels.

  She had quite a few options to choose from,

  She could work in the administration of manufacturing or in the field of long-distance communication.

  She was especially interested in a communications assistant post, simply by the fact that she was extremely skilled in radio waves and frequencies.

  In fact, as her final year project, she had written and created a prototype of such a box that could transmit radio waves and frequencies and use them as a mode of communication.

  Once the device was attached to a human's mind through non-invasive techniques, these radio waves and frequencies could be directly transmitted between two human minds, much like telepathy.

  She named it the Pi box. She named it Pi because she created it as an SOS signal transmitter that would loop the signal indefinitely until help arrives.

  This was also best suited for VENEERs since they were synthetic and contained a neural pattern. They would be able to receive the signal much more efficiently than a human mind.

  But of course, it didn't get as much attention; the project was barely passed.

  Moving on, she reviewed more enrollment programs, but unfortunately, none caught her attention. Until a white polymer fell from her sleeve.

  The Rose Program.

  Deep-space exploration. A journey to the edge of the Empire's reach, to find signs of life and to find a habitable planet such as Worlorn.

  Her curious mind picked it up and began reading it.

  Due to the deteriorating state of our home planet, Worlon and its nearly extinct resources, the empire is in search of a habitable planet that would become our new home. The great mind of our emperor has ordered the creation of a program that would decide the well-being and future of our species.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Come and travel in our latest model, named the Rose 512.

  Join the Rose- Deep Horizon program now!

  The program required total isolation. Years alone in a cockpit, seeing nothing but the void.

  What a display of propaganda. Well-being and future my ass, she scorned.

  After careful consideration, she decides not to take it. Getting away from this shit hole of an empire sounded good, but she didn't want to live alone in isolation for even a short amount of time. Especially now that she was having genuine connections with the people like Miss Mary, benni and even Elara from next door.

  She was also going to upgrade her lifestyle; as such, living in isolation would be quite depressing.

  A sharp knock-knock-knock at the door made her jump.

  Violet stood frozen for a second, wondering if the secret police had finally come for her thoughts. She opened the door cautiously. It was Elara. She was glowing despite the grime of the hallway, holding two steaming mugs in her hands.

  "Violet! Oh, thank goodness you're up," Elara beamed.

  Violet stood there, blinking in confusion. Her social gears felt rusted. "I... Elara? What's..."

  "Come now, the tea will get cold! Let's go inside, don't just stand there like a statue," Elara said, nudging past her with the practiced grace of a neighbor who refused to be a stranger.

  Stammering a quiet welcome, Violet shut the door. Elara immediately made herself at home, perched on the edge of the bed—the only seat available—and thrust a mug toward Violet. "Here, take it. Drink up."

  Violet took a sip. It was thin and had that unmistakable chemical tang of synthetic herbs, but it was hot. "What's this about?" she asked, her voice stiff and uncertain.

  "It's just my way of saying thank you," Elara replied, her smile widening. "For being a good neighbor yesterday."

  Violet felt a lump form in her throat. She nodded, her movements awkward as she sat on the floor across from the bed.

  "So," Elara leaned in, her eyes curious. "What do you do? I mean, for work? For bread?"

  "I'm looking," Violet admitted, staring into the dark swirling tea. "I have to enroll in a service program by the end of the month. If I don't... they'll send me to the moon."

  Elara let out a sharp, wet cough. "What? Dear, really? I heard they've started sending men to the asteroids, too, to extract resources. Gods, it's awful work. You're far too delicate for that."

  As Elara talked, her eyes roved over Violet, eventually landing on the shoulder of her tunic. Her expression shifted to one of maternal concern. "Oh, honey, you've got a hole. Do you know how to sew?"

  "Yes," Violet said, feeling that familiar blush creep up her neck. "I just... I don't have a kit."

  "None at all?" Elara gasped, as if Violet had said she didn't have lungs. She stood up immediately, her hand on her pregnant belly. "I'll sew it for you."

  "No, really, Elara, it's fine, I can save it for—"

  But Elara was already out the door. She returned moments later with a small, battered tin. Inside was a single, worn-out sewing needle and several bobbins of mismatched thread.

  "Give it here," Elara insisted, holding out her hand for the dress.

  Violet went back and forth, protesting that she didn't want to be a burden, but Elara was relentless. Eventually, Violet gave in, ducking behind her small privacy screen to change into an old undershirt and handing the dress over.

  Elara began to work with nimble, practiced fingers. "The thread is homemade," she explained proudly. "From old garments that don't fit the husband or me anymore. Can't let anything go to waste in the 4th, can we?"

  ***

  They talked for hours.

  As the sun dipped below the jagged skyline and the room grew dark, Elara suddenly stood up, her face clouded with a flicker of worry.

  "Oh god, I have to go," she whispered. "My husband... he might make a scene again if he finds out I was here with you. He's in one of his moods." She reached out and squeezed Violet's hand. "See you tomorrow, okay?"

  Violet watched her leave, the silence of the room feeling different from how it had that morning. Violet didn't know how to feel at first. She felt good that Elara was doing this for her to show her thank you, and a part of her really wanted to form that connection. Regaurdless today her mood drastically improved.