The noise of the cargo airship is deafening. Lucas presses his headphones to his ears as he is lowered to the ground with the rest of the passengers: fifteen new rig workers, himself included, and two pilots. His headphones are not playing music, the airship is too loud to let him hear anything. He keeps the headphones on his ears to calm his nerves; he is finally here. The plasma rig he has been longing and training for most of his life is only a few minutes away.

  He stretches his back; two weeks of hibernation on an intergalactic airship had its toll on his spine. To his right, stacked rows of empty radium capsules rattle as the ship begins to enter the planet's atmosphere. Lucas glances out of the window to his left. A purple glare creating a border between the void of space and the planet's atmosphere passes upward and Lucas feels the gravity strengthening, glueing his body to his seat. The airship finally moves forward.

  Lucas's reflection in the window distracts him. He automatically raises his hand and plays with the few strings of mustache hair he has been proudly growing in the past four years. The view steals his attention. He stops playing with his mustache and presses his headphones to his ears, this time to help him focus on the gorgeous vista outside of the window.

  Snow-covered planes end in a mountainous horizon embracing the starry night sky. The planet's famous purple hue timidly shines in the horizon, blurring some of the stars. Small and large lakes of glowing purple are scattered on the white planes. Three mountain chains, covered with snow, are visible from Lucas's window, the largest is stretched on the entire northern horizon, the two smaller chains closest to the airship intersect at a 90 degrees angle. Located in that angle, on a mountain's base, is the magnificent rig.

  The airship flies closer, following another airship in the front in an invisible aerial line. Chrome, brass, and bronze walls of the enormous rig become more distinguishable as they get closer. Concrete walls covered by pipes are adjoined by steal structures holding machines. Brightly lit by a multitude of yellow torches, every corner of the metallic giant is visible from Lucas's window. He can clearly see the four main towers that connecting two rows of buildings. Each tower is equipped with an exhaust for plasma overflows. "The sight of the exhaust flares must be magnificent" Lucas thinks. He knows that plasma rigs turn their excess energy into heat, creating a warm semi-habitable place for the employees to live in.

  Slowly, a giant red H appears on the courtyard behind the northeastern tower. The airship slightly veers to align in another invisible line, gradually losing altitude as the H appears bigger and brighter. They pass fields of tankers standing tall on concrete platforms. Rig employees push stacks of radium capsules on wheels into parked cargo airships.

  Lucas feels goosebumps; he is here. He has finally escaped the nightmarish life of Cyber-Planets, where he would stare at a monitor all day to claim he has "worked". His new life is ahead of him. No computers, no robots, just hard working men, mechanical tools, and raw power.

  The airship lands on the H, blowing off the thin layer of snow covering the concrete platform. The back of the ship opens as the passengers line up to exit. Lucas straightens his jacket, puts the hood on his head and marches outside in line as the door fully opens. The northeastern exhaust is towering in front of him, it is even bigger from the ground. A bearded man carrying a clipboard is expecting them on the metallic pathway leading to the entrance. He is a big man wearing a khaki jumpsuit holding his yellow worker's helmet against the wind with his right hand, his wide muscular shoulders hunch over his muscular body and his big belly. His half beaded beard is floating in the wind blowing off from the airship.

  As the last passenger marches out, the bearded man waves his clipboard to signal the airship's pilot. The airship's door closes as it moves on the ground towards the loading fields. Lucas keeps marching as the man waves his clipboard at them shouting "MOVE MOVE" trying to compete with the deafening noise of the airship. They march inside the hangar through the entrance. The airship's noise slowly fades, Lucas can finally hear the noises of the rig: metals clanking, grinders grinding, fans filtering the air. The sounds echo in the empty bronze hangar covering what looks like an old flood drain.

  The big man watches the new comers for a few seconds. Raises his chest and bends his neck backwards:

  "HOOOOOY!"

  His growl resonates in Lucas's chest.

  "M'name is Gordon," the big man shouts in a deep voice, "welcome to Rig Thirty-Seven, or as we like to call it, our last home." He grins and scans the line of newcomers for a reaction. One person coughs.

  "Follow me." He keeps his grin as he walks to the door at the end of the hangar. Lucas lets the group march pass him. From his pocket he removes an old mp3 player wired to his headphones. He has made his decision. Any minute now the player's batteries will be permanently damaged. He will play his favorite playlist one last time.

  Gordon is walking on the metal balcony on the side of what looks like an empty flood pool with a giant sewage drain. Lucas presses play, fixes his hoodie, and jogs to reach the last marching man. Linkin Park plays in Lucas's ears, his favorite classical music.

  "There's a time, when operation of the machines becomes so odious, that makes you so sick at heart that you can't take part! You can't even passively take take part! And you've got to put your bodies upon the gears, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus -- and you've got to make it STOP" loud rock music plays in Lucas's ears.

  Lucas was not expecting this song. It has been ages since he has listened to "Wretches & Kings" by Linkin Park.

  "To save FACE! How low can you go?..."

  They pass through a door, and then another door, passing hallways of brass and concrete. Soothing yellow lights in oval cages light every hallway. Chrome pipes run in every direction on the wall.

  "Get down! And obey EVERY word..."

  The singer enunciates in Lucas's headphones as they enter a hangar, workers push carts stacked with cages. Fluffy white chicken occasionally poke their heads out of the small cubicles. The group reaches the opposite wall towards a plaque saying "Dormitories" with a double door under it. Gordon opens one door and keeps it open; Lucas looks down and suddenly stops to avoid hitting the man in front of him. The group stack up as the leader stops unexpectedly, bewitched by the scene in front of him. Lucas pauses the music and stretches his neck to look. In front of him, a semi-circle balcony, is facing the most beautiful clock he has ever seen in his life. The massive chrome structure encompassed the majority of the wall at the opposite side of the courtyard. Lucas's jaw loosen up but he quickly recovers himself.

  "Move on! To the door at the opposite balcony, we are heading to the eastern mid-court." Gordon's deep voice works as an immediate command for the newcomers. As they walk to the eastern balcony, Lucas starts feeling the cold of the courtyards.

  On the other side, they open door to a staircase going down to a railway long open court with a railway in the middle. Lucas presses play on his headphones and follows the group down the staircase and casually marches with them along the iron railway. He is enjoying the chorus of the song more than he ever has.

  "Got everything under control now everybo.. [glitch]...we come for you"

  The song starts glitching. "The battery must be reaching its end," Lucas casually jumps on the railway and keep walking with slight effort to keep his balance. The rest of the newcomers are marching on the sidewalk in front of him following Gordon. Lucas spots four workers in jumpsuits and yellow helmets on a balcony a few stories higher in front of him. One of the workers has a slightly different outfit; he is wearing a brown leather jacket and a loaded climbing belt on top of his jumpsuit. He sees Lucas, walks to the edge of the balcony, bends over the guard and starts waving his arms. Lucas is unsure who the worker is referring to. As he walks closer he realizes that the worker is saying something, possibly screaming, the music playing in the headphones are too loud for him to understand the words. And the worker's eyes... the angriest eyes Lucas has ever seen.

  BANG!

  Something hits Lucas in the head. He is violently pulled away from the railway to the sidewalk. Lucas stumbles a few steps and and finally finds his balance. He removes his hoodie and headphones and looks behind him searching for the source of the attack. His eyes watery from the pain in his head. Behind him Gordon is watching him unamused.

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  "You cannot be distracted on this rig, this is how you die."

  Embarrassed, Lucas rubs his painful scalp and drops his head.

  "You should never walk on any railway. Every 40 minutes, a cargo passes on that railway, so fast, that it pancakes anything on its way." He reaches to the wall on the side; yellow workers' helmets are hanging in a row. He grabs one, walks back to Lucas, and BANG! He hits Lucas in the head, this time with the helmet, "and wear a helmet in working areas or the next one will hurt for real." He points to an old rusty sign on the wall showing an almost faded yellow workers helmet inside a red triangle.

  Lucas takes the helmet and puts it on. He removes his headphones from his shoulders, bends them and puts them in his pockets. The rest of the group immediately walk to the wall and grab their own helmets."Also, don't make the Captain angry. You do NOT want to make the Captain angry." Gordon's tone is sharp and solemn. He continues walking.

  Lucas, trying to hide the tears in his eyes, keeps his head down and follows the group. He glances quickly at the balcony; the four workers are no longer there, "was that the Captain waving?" a short heavy man with curly brown hair asks.

  "Yeah. If he gets the time he'll give you newbies a speech today. But I wouldn't hold my breath." Gordon answers while pushing a rusty metal door open. The curly-haired newbie hesitates and finally asks "Is it true that the Captain can feel the entire rig and tell exactly what is wrong with it, every time the giant clock bangs?"

  Gordon casually replies "Yes it is true, now move!"

  The curly-haired man enters and the rest of the group march in behind him. Lucas looks around and quickly reads all the sings on the walls before entering. On a 20 meters tall tank to his left, a sign shows a man getting showered by small pieces of fire. On one of the pipes, protruding from the wall to the side of the door and traveling right, a schematic hand is being scorched. Lucas realizes that the pipe runs the same height as his face. Plasma rigs are notorious for their high death rates and he is not here to die. He takes a deep breath and enters the rusty door.

  Behind the door, most of the group have already found their seats in what looks like an old classroom. The smell of old plastic reminds Lucas of something uncomfortable and yet nostalgic in his past. He finds the nearest seat. A few rows away, a bearded man in a black hoodie is casually chewing gum. His face is half covered under his cap, his worker's helmet sitting awkwardly on top. He barely acknowledges Lucas. On the occupied seat in front of him, a young man wearing a white suit spreads his arms on his two side seats and spreads his legs on the chair in his front.

  "HOOOY!" Gordon's growl resonates in the classroom; followed by a dead silence. He is standing on the classroom's platform; in front of him a table is piled with watch-like gadgets. Each gadget has five watches glued to a thick leather wristband with a thumb opening.

  "Once again, welcome to Rig thirty seven, your last home. MY NAME IS GORDON, and this is your integration class, a review of what NOT to do on this..." Gordon is interrupted by one of the newcomers raising his hand. "What is it...what's your name?"

  "Roy, sir." A young man with short orange hair, freckles, and a crooked tooth protruding on his lower lip bravely continues, "I was wondering, sir, is it true that there are portals on this rig? Sir?"

  "Yes, one of them is on this tower."

  "Then why did we have to go through weeks of hibernation in those old ships?"

  Gordon's grin turns into a fatherly smile. He takes a moment to look Roy up and down "Use those expensive portals to bring your sorry ass here?" The rest of the class look at Roy and Gordon in amusement "Balanced portals are for emergencies, period!"

  Roy drops his head.

  "Now, here are your omni-meters. Every one of you gets one of these magical gadgets." Gordon lifts one of the watch-like wristbands and points to a watch. "Each face shows a measurement that is vital to your survival on this rig."

  He returns the gadget to the pile. "Every morning you wake up, you reset and tune the one showing time and harmonize it to Mother Clock" Gordon looks around making sure everyone understands. "You passed Mother Clock on your way here."

  The magnificent chrome clock conjugates in Lucas's mind.

  "Remember, if you lose your omni-meter, you will be fixed on toilet-cleaning duty indefinitely or until the Captain feels sorry for you." Gordon takes his time to make sure everyone understands.

  "Now! Who knows how many chemical refinery facilities we have here? You! What's your name?"

  Lucas and two others raise their hands. Gordon points to a large newcomer whose cheeks flush red as he eagerly waves his hand midair. "Fifteen sir", the answer burst out of his mouth the moment Gordon's finger points at him. "And my name is Tom, sir."

  "Excellent, Tom; and how many drills do we have here?"

  "None sir," Tom seems to be barely breathing from excitement "plasma rigs do not need drills, in fact..." Tom take a deep breath and continues "...their main problem is controlling the overflow of plasma."

  "Somebody has been studying."

  Gordon looks around for more bright eyes. His glance stops at Lucas's for a few seconds.

  "Now, before we begin, I want you all to stand up, loudly say your full name, and pledge your alliance to the rig."

  His facial muscles change, they contract, his jaw opens, and he yells "ALL STAND UP"

  The sound of boots hitting the floor resonates in the room.

  Gordon looks at the clipboard on the teacher's table and screams: "BRAD"

  A tall skinny man with blonde pointy hair yells "YES SIR!"

  "STATE YOUR FULL NAME AND THE PLEDGE"

  "BRAD BUNDLY BOB, SIR!" Brad tries to regulate his breathing as he keeps his chest up while screaming, he takes a deeper breath "I PLEDGE THAT I DESPISE ROBOTS, I DO NOT NEED ROBOTS, AND I WILL NEVER LET ROBOTS ON THIS RIG," Brad takes a deep breath and continues "THE RIG LIVES"

  Four hours later, Lucas is staring at his reflection in a bathroom dimly lit by blue and yellow lights. Voices still echo in his head, screaming the pledge "...THE RIG LIVES". His yellow helmet is sitting on the sink in front of him. The omni-meter wrapped around his left wrist, ticking. His hand is frozen on the water tap, unsure of the next step.

  The large square bathroom, with rows of sinks, urinals, and toilet stalls, is adjoined by a shower room. The concrete walls are striped with bronze pipes passing vertically and horizontally. Steal sheets covered with a layer of silver pose as mirrors on the wall in front of Lucas. His lonely reflection is staring deep into his eyes; the distorted teenager in front of him is questioning his every decision and the sanity of the man-child on the other side.

  The walls start shaking. The steal mirrors shiver and Lucas can see waves in their silver lining. Behind him, through the small windows on the top of the wall he can see the bright engines of a cargo airship taking off and slowly flying away. The next airship follows and disappears. Lucas watches in the mirror as all twenty two cargo ships fly one by one to the dark sky behind him. This is it. The airships have left. The next star-alignment cycle will be in twenty months. The rig will be unreachable with airships until then. The rig on a planet without a sun... . Suddenly it sinks in; he will never see the sun again. He feels sick in his stomach.

  The door opens and the bearded man with black hoodie enters, followed by Tom, whose cheeks are still flushed red but his eyes are wider and his forehead wrinkled. The wrinkles vanish as he sees Lucas "Heey man, my name is Tom." He grabs Lucas's hand, his double chin shakes as he fervently shakes his coworker's hand "What did you think of the integration class? Crazy huh? Almost everything can kill us on this rig" Tom gives out a nervous laugh.

  Lucas does not know how to reply, he forces a nervous smile. The bearded man walks to the sink at the end of the row and starts washing his hands.

  "Hey man, my name is Tom, and this is..." Tom points at Lucas.

  "Lucas"

  "This is Lucas, what's your name?"

  "Doug"

  "Nice to meet you Doug. It is crazy huh? The integration class? Everything can kill you here."

  Doug checks his reflection with a stout face. His heavy eyebrows cover half of his forehead. His dark beard disheveled. "Still better than the leech life of robot-infested planets."

  Tom glances at Lucas. The looks in their faces reflect agreement. "Yeah!" Tom replies with excitement "I always knew I was going to end up here. It is impossible to talk to another human being in cyber planets without a screen between us." Tom replies.

  This sounds awkwardly familiar to Lucas. He cannot remember the last time he talked to one of his friends without a monitor. They are all paranoid of germs and consider in-person meetings unhealthy.

  "Yeah, people in my planet have literally forgotten how to wash their ass without robot assistance." Doug sounds bitterly condescending.

  Lucas drops his head. He was tired of screens too. And the people, living like babies while robots did everything. Was there anything left for him in his home-planet? A face conjures in his mind from memory, a woman's. Her rare smile, stretching all the way to her eyes. Many years ago that smile melted his heart and burnt itself to his memory. He never saw her smile again. Her cooking was always great though, until they got that cooking robot. Her spaghetti, he always loved his mom's spaghetti. He feels sick in his stomach again.

  "What about you?" Tom breaks Lucas's thoughts. "What brought you here? Did you always know you'd end up in this end of the world?"

  Lucas looks at his image, pensive, he takes a deep breath "I knew I wanted to come here when I was nine and my baby brother was one. He was sitting on the bed crying with his arms stretched to my mom. My mom walked pass him, got her cellphone, clicked on it, and the robot nanny put a bottle in my brother's mouth."

  Lucas's heart speeds up. His breathing becomes audible "Anger! Remember anger increases your heart rate! Anger" Lucas remembers Gordon, a few hours ago while adjusting the omni-meter on Lucas's wrist, Gordon looked him deep in the eyes and said "Remember, if it feels like anxiety is taking over you, look at the red watch, it shows time, adjust your breathing to that one."

  Lucas looks at the red watch. The long thin hand is rushing, but he feels comfort with it.

  "The rig lives" Doug utters.

  He has noticed the change in Lucas. Tom is watching his reflection in the silver mirror, not paying attention to his surroundings. He automatically repeats "The rig lives"

  Lucas stares into the silver mirror in front of him, his eyes stop at their own reflection.

  "The rig lives"

  He finally utters.