1 Lunchtime

*DING*

"Attention, all the workers, in ten minutes the B-12 and B-13 hatches of sector B of the spaceship, from which you will be able to access the lunchroom, will be open. Remember to bring your ID plate and show up without delay. The captain of the BS Voyager thanks you and wishes you a good continuation."

*DING*

Already 185 days had passed since the departure of the spacecraft from Earth and as every day at lunchtime, the beep anticipated the pre-recorded message reminding each crew member to meet their physiological needs and eat.

Unlike most Voyager sectors, the lunchroom was one of the few places where people of all social ranks and backgrounds could come in and spend an hour relaxing before finishing their daily tasks until the end of working time.

A young boy, of average build and height, as every day at that hour was intent on dipping the big broom inside a bucket full of water and chemicals to wash the floor.

With earbuds inserted into his ears, he was listening to one of the playlists on the mp3 player he had brought with him from the Earth, thus letting time flow quickly and alienating himself from everything that was going on around him, forgetting how much he hated his work and how low his pay was.

Just as the wet part of the broom touched the floor for the second time before being rubbed on it, someone hit the boy's shoulder, unbalanced him forward and knocking the bucket to the ground, which after being clumsily hit by his foot, poured all its contents.

"Hey, Layton! Watch where you're stepping, loser!" one of the three guys in uniform exclaimed, intentionally hitting the young handyman, who was not astonished by that behavior, knowing what kind of person that subject was.

"Hahah! Come on, Layton! Hurry to fill the bucket again, otherwise, you will be late to the lunchroom!" the second boy added, next to the first, who compared to his companions, stood out for his musculature and his swept-back blonde hair.

All three of them wore white spacesuits, reinforced on the shoulders and neck, with a special socket to close the helmet before exiting outside the ship.

After cleaning up the mess caused by his bullying peers, Layton sighed and walked down the corridor, reaching one of the doors of the hundreds of warehouses scattered along the ship.

In an almost automatic gesture, Layton pulled his identification plate from a pocket: it was a normal metal card, on which in addition to his first name, surname and generalities, there was engraved a unique code, which changed from person to person.

He approached the card to the side panel of the door, which as soon as it came into contact with it, emitted a slight sound signal, followed by a robotic voice that said:

"Sheppard, Layton

Access allowed"

The grayish metal door opened by sliding to one side and inside of it, in a small square room, there were racks containing brooms and other tools for cleaning the hallways.

Next to them, on a second shelf, dozens of chemicals and detergents stacked in a metal cabinet that emitted a nauseating smell and right there in front of them, on the wall next to the door, there was a kind of small semi-spherical sink, consisting of a removable metal tube that leaked out of the wall.

Stepping further, unable to enter the room that was so small that it could barely hold the brooms, Layton emptied the dirty water of the bucket and replaced it with clean water, continuing to snort from boredom.

After mixing the various chemical elements useful to clean the floors and closing the door of the storeroom, he returned to the exact spot where the three bullies had provoked him.

"Damn bastards... who they think they are... one day I'll make them pay for it, mixing one of the chemicals I can pick from the cabinet with their coffee, just while they'll be making fun of someone else" he thought, putting earbuds back in his ears and restarting the music, but at a lower volume, so he could hear any ads coming from the speakers.

Layton, unlike those uniformed boys, who were members of the official crew, allowed to go out of the ship and access almost all sectors of the Voyager, had never completed his studies and had managed to get that job as a janitor with the help of a distant relative, who knew summarily one of the crew's big shots.

His parents had stayed in their small house in America, putting all hope in their only child, who monthly sent them part of his income to help them bear the expenses necessary to face that difficult time.

Both his father and his mother had a job until a few years before when the company for which they worked closed dramatically due to the exponential number of infections that occurred in its last months of activity.

Because of the high concentration of gases and heavy dust in the atmosphere, so many people soon became ill with new unknown viruses and without specific permits, it was completely forbidden to leave their homes during the day.

*DING*

Once again, the usual voice of the announcements echoed in the ship, reminding everyone of their common commitment.

"The captain... yeah, sure…" Layton thought, who because of his low social rank, had never met the captain, who along with his first officers, lived and carried out all his daily activities in a sector of the ship completely reserved and forbidden to all others.

Thinking of the hypocrisy of that last sentence, which accompanied almost all the ship's vocal warnings, Layton squeezed the final part of the broom, dropping the dirty water into the bucket and admiring the floor, shiny like a mirror.

After storing it in the warehouse, he walked across the hall, heading to the lunchroom.

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