Danger Pay In Zero Gravity Ch1

Nick adjusted his tie. It was a little bit weird wearing one, since he hadn't for a while. He had, infact, bought a tie especially for his new job, since it was important to make first impressions, especially when you were working for the Global Union Special Intelligence Office.
He looked up at the SIO's giant headquarters, a towering structure of glass and steel. It reflected the clouds above and made him feel dizzy.
“Okay, can all the people here for the induction proceed through this door and through the security check? This way, this way please.”
Nick shuffled along through the unglamorous side door, along with all the other new entrants, all of whom were wearing, much to Nick's dismay, all very new looking ties.
They gathered in a small chamber, while a grim looking individual grimaced at them all.
"All right," he said, grimly, “a few ground rules. Ties were outlawed in SIO buildings three years ago. They're stupid and dangerous and cause more problems than they're worth. Get them off.”
There was a collective 'aww' from the small crowd as they collectively removed their new ties, all of them knowing they would never wear them again.
One man, holding his tie closely to his chest, sidled towards the door and made a run for it.
"Okay, next thing, I am Mr Carter, call me Mr Carter, I will be guiding you through your basic safety training for today before passing you over to my colleague Miss McCaine, who will take you through the rest of the day. Please place all belongings in this basket. We might give you them back at the end of the day.”
There was a small ripple of laughter through the crowd, which was hastily disrupted by Carter's complete lack of facial expression. At the back of the crowd, someone else sidled up to the door and ran. Someone else went 'aww', quietly.
Nick placed his phone and keys into the basket as it was passed around.
They were ushered into a corridor which was uncomfortably well lit and were led into a room full of chairs and a projector. They sat and were subject to an illuminating explanation of the dangers of space travel and simple ways to avoid them, as well as precautions to avoid accidents.
“Now do you see why we don't wear ties?” Carter asked.
The crowed nodded feebly. Nick never wanted to see another tie in his life.
“Now the basic safety is over, I'm going to pass you over to my colleague, Miss McCaine.”
Promptly, the door to the rear of the room opened and a young woman strode betwixt the seats and turned to face the assembly.
“Hello,” she said.
Nick was instantly taken with Miss McCaine, because she was a woman.
Even in his internal dialogue, he called her Miss McCaine.
Oh Miss McCaine, Nick thought.
“Thank you Mr Carter. The group looks thoroughly terrified as usual.”
Mr Carter began to walk out and said, “You need to break 'em down before you can rebuild 'em.”
“Of course,” McCaine said, as the door closed. “Well, hello everyone, I hope you're having a good time so far. We've got safety training for the rest of the day and then we'll split you up into groups and ship you off to various places to begin your induction. I'll be your point of contact if you have any questions or concerns, wherever you are. You'll all be briefed on extra rules depending on the department you're in. That will continue for four weeks, then we'll review you and give you a final placement!”
The crowd nodded a lot more enthusiastically than before, although not that much more. It was a long paragraph.
“But first,” she said, smiling, “how about a break? We can use the SIO's central café, it's very big and cheap and they sell a lot of cake.”
The crowd stood as one and followed McCaine as she marched through the corridors and into more civilized territory, with less bright lights.
“We'll meet back in the room in thirty minutes!” she said to the group, before pushing forward into the throng surrounding the cheesecake display.
Nick looked around desperately for someone to cling onto he. He scanned faces in the group until he found one looking at him. It was a man of similar age, although much fatter and a bit shorter. Nick reached out to grab the lifeline.
He nodded.
The man nodded back.
“Wanna get a coffee?”
“Sounds good.”
Nick and his new best friend broke away from the group and got in line.
“The name's Alan,” said Alan, offering his hand.
Nick took it and smiled. “Nick.”
They stood in line, Nick at the front, awkwardly standing so he could talk to Alan, something which was of paramount importance right about now.
“That Carter was a lunatic. I hope I get my phone back,” Nick said, hoping to find some common ground.
“Yeah, I was terrified.” Mentally, Nick placed in a little flag. “I was eyeing the door when he said that stuff, I've got a really nice phone, I don't want to lose it.”
“I just really want this job, I don't care about my phone. Although my phone is pretty nice too...”
“Oh yeah?” said Alan.
“Oh yeah,” replied Nick, with a little twinkle in his eye.
They talked about phones all the way down the line, picking up two small coffees and wishing they'd bought large ones with caramel shots and extra cream when they paid.
They stood together, a new seed of friendship already firmly planted and fertilised. United they stood, coffee cups thrust aggressively in front of them. They strode forward to find a place to sit on the rather inviting looking leather sofas. They spotted their trainer, Miss McCaine, sat at a table on her own, devouring a large slice of cheesecake.
By the time they managed to navigate their way through the various moving bodies of people with far nicer phones than they, the slice of cheesecake was decidedly smaller.
“Oh hey, guys, have a seat. Sorry, I've not got anyone's names yet.”
“I'm Nick and this is-”
“-Alan,” said Alan. Pleased to meet you. They shook hands and it was all very nice.
“You should try the cheesecake, it's great.”
“It looks it.”
Nick sat back, allowing himself to sink just a little in the depths of the sofa. It was very deep.
While Alan and McCaine discussed the manifold merits of cheesecake, Nick looked around the café. It was very big and quite brown, but a nice warm cosy sort of brown. He estimated about one hundred people were about, either queuing or sat down. A lot of people were trying to use laptops without anybody else seeing their screen.
Nick saw a man sit down on a sofa, putting a black briefcase down next to another man's. Nick was delighted, it was just like the movies.
Another new entrant had found their refuge and introduced herself as Hannah.
Out of the large windows facing onto the central plaza of the SIO, large trucks full of armoured troops marched behind the building and several escorted vehicles parked and passengers were marched inside. It was all busy and exciting and that was exactly what Nick had signed up for.
A job in he can do in a place that does amazing things. As long as he told people he worked for Special Intelligence, people would think he was a secret agent.
Nicked looked back across to the sofas, where he saw one of the men with briefcases quickly stood, reached across and took the other man's briefcase. He raised his eyebrows slightly but looked away as the second man looked around. A few moments later, Nick noticed him stand leave too.
“So, Nick?” McCaine said, “What do you think of the café? It's probably the reason a lot of people in the SIO still work here. Special Intelligence requires Special Cafés is the unofficial motto at HO.”
Nick smiled. “It's amazing! It's just like in a movie or something. Just now, I saw two guys sit down with briefcases and when they left, they took each others. That's just how they did it in the old movies.”
McCaine laughed. “Oh yeah, that's normal around here. It was probably just a routine bomb plot. That's the official way to pass on communications around here, you know!”
The rest of the group laughed, although more out of nervousness than mirth. Although there certainly was mirth. After all, you had to laugh at jokes your superiors made. It was a survival instinct and entirely subconscious.
“I'm sorry it's all been a bit disorganised so far, we've not had much time to prepare. I don't even have a list of your names from the security check Carter did.”
Nick stared blankly at McCaine, which was something Nick immediately knew he needed to work on.
“You had a security check, didn't you? With proof of ID and all that?”
Slowly Nick shook his head.
“Oh god,” McCaine wailed, “he was supposed to do the check, because we switched it away from Charlie at the last minute. Oh god!”
“That sounds like a major security breach,” said Hannah, uncertainly.
“Keep your voice down!” hissed McCaine. “It might be fine. I'll get everyone back and do the check and hope nobody goes missing.”
“If it helps, two people have left during the induction so far,” said Alan.
McCaine's face lit up. “You know what, that does help, we might just make it!”
Nick was sore he didn't mention that sooner.
They made idle chat about everyday things, like the price of electricity, the pollution on Earth and who had been into space before and where. For many people Nick's age, which was 21, space had been more of a holiday destination than a work place.
The break time passed and they walked back into the room.
“Okay,” McCaine said, “I'm just going to do a routine security check. Can you just say that you're here and offer some ID when I call out your name.”
She scanned the first name on a list she had procured from a nearby office.
“Shouldn't this have been done before-”
“Nick Hall?” she said loudly.
“That's me!” said Nick, equally as loudly, standing and scraping his chair loudly. McCaine looked over Nick's ID card and Medical Card, giving him a nod, a smile and nice big tick on a very important looking piece of paper.
She went down the list, ticking off names. After everyone in the room had answered, she looked down the list thoughtfully, did a quick headcount and looked at the list some more.
“Someone's missing,” she said flatly.
“Two people left earlier,” someone in the room said.
“I know, I know, but there's three people missing from this list. Someone else has gone missing.”
Nick inwardly groaned. This was not going to be good, he just knew it.
“Isn't that a security breach?” someone, probably the same someone from before, asked.
“Not yet it isn't,” she said. Okay, you're all going to have to wait here. I'm going to see if I can find them. Can anyone remember someone who isn't here now?”
The group looked around, scanning faces and hastily avoiding people's eyes when they looked at each other. There was a lot of humming and not really a consensus on anything.
“Nothing? You've got nothing? You're going to work for Intelligence and you can't even do that!”
“We're new!” someone protested.
“Er... I think she had blonde hair.”
“Oh, it's a woman?”
“Er... oh yeah!”
McCaine looked slightly less stressed. “Okay, that's a start. I'm going to go look for her. Nobody leave. Nobody let anyone else leave. You all owe it to each other to not let anybody else leave, because if this turns into a security breach, you're all out, as well as my pay rise. Got it?”
They all nodded.
“I'll be back in five minutes. If anyone comes in, assure them that you're not new entrants and are just attending a seminar.”
After a few minutes of awkward silence punctuated by a half-hearted attempt at conversation, a woman ducked into the room.
“Oh dear, am I late?” she said meekly.
“Yeah, McCaine has gone out looking for you.”
“Oh dear, should I go out and-”
“No!” said the group as one.
“She'll be back soon,” Hannah said.
The woman quietly sat down, looking quite unwell.
Five minutes passed with no McCaine in sight.
“I hope it's not turned into a security breach,” said Alan.
“Oh dear,” said the woman.
Five minutes turned into fifteen minutes. If the mood had been lighter, it would have been the perfect time to make a joke about government services.
McCaine barged into the room seventeen minutes after she had left. Nick had counted.
“Is she here?” she asked, looking concerned.
“Yes, I'm so, so sorry,” she said.
“Oh, don't worry, it's absolutely fine,” she said, not looking any less concerned. She turned to Nick. “Can you come with me, Nick? It's nothing bad, don't worry. Everyone else stay here, I will send someone to see you soon, don't lie to them about being at a seminar. Don't let anyone leave, like before.”
Nick quickly stood, shared a meaningful look with Alan and followed McCaine out of the door.
“What's all this-”
“There's a security breach,” McCaine said quietly.
“But she's right there!”
“Shut up," she said, marching through the corridors. She scanned them through three security doors before they reached a set of large wooden double doors. The corridors had rapidly taken a turn for the better and were much nicer than the previous ones. They were painted a colour other than white, which was Nick's favourite bit.
“Take a deep breath,” McCaine advised, “there's absolutely no need to be nervous.”
“Okay,” said Nick, feeling extremely nervous.
She opened the doors and swiftly entered, Nick trailing in her wake.
“Is this him?”
Nick saw a large desk in front of him, with a few men sat around it. A few more were standing and a woman was stood in the corner, sitting on an extremely comfortable looking chair and talking on an extremely nice phone.  They were all aged above thirty it looked to Nick, although some looked a lot older, it was more of a stress-old look than an old person-old.
“This is Nick Hall, a new entrant being inducted today.”
One of the men at the table beckoned him to sit.
“I'm sorry, Hall, but we have little time for pleasantries. We fear we may be looking at the biggest breach in internal security the SIO has faced in years. Something you saw today could be of incredible help to us. Please, tell us about the men with briefcases you saw in the cafeteria today.”
Nick was excited but slightly terrified at the same time. He realised he hadn't paid all that much attention to the men at all.
"Well, I didn't see much..."
"Try to remember. Tell us all you can."
Nick said, "Well, I saw a man sit down with a briefcase."
His questioner asked, "What did the man look like?"
"He was wearing black."
Nick glanced around the room and back at the men at the table, who were looking at him sternly, saying nothing. They were both wearing black. So was everyone else in the room, including Nick.
"Er." Nick swallowed.
"I didn't really pay much attention to him. He was a man, about six feet tall, dark hair, white."
The two men at the table exchanged a glance.
"Tell us about what happened."
"Well, the man sat down and put a briefcase on the ground next to his feet. Another man came along, similar sort of look, lighter hair and put a similar briefcase down."
"How similar?"
"Well, they were both... black..." Nick finished weakly.
"Go on."
"And they sat there for a while, one reading a newspaper, one eating. Then, the second man stood up again, took the other man's briefcase and left. Er, I think, when the second man left, he was heading towards the exit. That's about all I can remember, I didn't really pay attention to the details."
The two men at the table nodded. "Thank you. You've been a great help."
They rose and said to the other men standing, "It must have been them. Run camera checks on the area and find out who they are. The carrier is well gone by now, so let's keep this low-key. If they think we haven't noticed, we stand a better chance."
Nick sat bewildered but extremely interested. He looked at McCaine, who was standing by the door.
People began to leave, so Nick rose. McCaine approached him.
"Nick, there's an opening for someone in this department. Basic admin and a bit of jet-setting, nothing you can't handle, right?"
"Right?" said Nick, uncertainly.
"You can follow this case from there. You've made a brilliant first impression."
Nick blinked until his mind caught up and asked, "That sounds great but, uh, what department is it?"
"It's not a department you'll see signposted. Most people don't know it exists. You'll be attaching to the Secret Homeworld Affairs agency, or 'The Shadows' as we like to call ourselves."
Nick knew a great career opportunity when he saw one. "I'll... I'll do it!"
McCaine smiled. "Great, you'll be leaving for the Moon in about an hour."
"An hour? But, what about... the safety training?"
McCaine smirked. "It's all a load of crap. I don't think it is actually possible to do anything remotely dangerous on a spacecraft unless you're on the flight deck mashing as many buttons as possible while pouring water on things."
"Fair enough."
"We'll be doing a full background check on you."
Nick said, "Oh, I had to have one of those before I passed the application process."
McCaine rolled her eyes. "I meant a FULL background check." She nodded slowly for emphasis.
"Ah," said Nick, feigning comprehension utterly unconvincingly.
McCaine turned to leave. "Come on," she said, "we have to stock up on essential nutrients before the shuttle jump. Time to hit the café. And pay attention to details this time!"
Nick smiled and followed her out of the door. He was going to like it here.


* * *


As they sat in the café, now much emptier since the mid-morning urge office workers have for cake was satisfied.
Nick and McCaine sat on a set of sofas facing each other in an empty area of the sea of seats.
"So, you'll be coming with me?"
"Yes, I'm part of The Shadows. The only reason I was even down here at all, mingling with you newbies was because there was a huge crash at one of the outlying airports this morning and a lot of people haven't been able to make it in. As I had nothing to do but shred bits of paper, I got roped into it."
"Good job you did."
"Yes, yes it is. I think we're both facing a very rosy future, unless of course this leaking information fiasco explodes in our faces and we get dragged down with it."
"Sounds grim. What's the pay scale like?"
"Terrible."
Nick tried not to look disappointed, but he was hoping something with the word 'Secret' in would boast an impressively large pay scale with lots of zeroes.
"But that's fine. We pretty much decide our own wages anyway. Nothing is ever recorded for long."
Nick, who was eagerly waiting for some of the cream in his epic coffee to melt, felt that this day could not really get any better. It occurred to him that the security breach would eventually become His Problem, he was happy to revel in the glory of everything else before it did.
Out of the window, Nick saw a shuttle low overhead, looking like it was going to land, whether anyone wanted it to or not. It was dirty, covered in whatever was floating in the atmosphere that day.
"That looks like our shuttle," McCaine said.
"I hope they give it a clean."
McCaine laughed. "They will. It messes up the sensors. Most shuttles coming to Earth need a clean every so often or they'll just stop sensing anything."
"Earth sounds like a pretty bad place to fly space flights from."
"Yeah, no kidding. Not much we can do about it, though. Most major organisations have their headquarters on Earth, despite how rubbish it is. It's just how things have always been done, I guess."
Nick thoughtfully drank some coffee. It required a lot of thought because he didn't want chocolate sprinkles on his nose on the first day. That was at least a Week 3 thing.
"So..." McCaine said, changing tone, "Any terrorists in your family? That you know of."
Nick raised his eyebrows. "That all depends on your definition of terrorism," he said.
McCaine shook her head. "Wrong answer," she said.
"Oh."
McCaine reached into the bag she had acquired recently and pulled out some paper.
"Here," she said, "Do this test while we wait. It will highlight the strengths and weaknesses in your personality."
Nick took the paper and set it on the table. He pulled out a pen he had so cleverly bought with him and wrote his name in the box provided.
"Woah, Jesus! Where did you get that pen? Did you steal it?"
"Er, no, I bought it with me!"
This didn't impress McCaine as much as he'd hoped, which wasn't a lot anyway, a testament to how unimpressed she was.
"All personal belongings were supposed to be taken off you when you entered. They didn't do that?"
Nick looked worried. "He only took my phone and keys!"
McCaine rolled her eyes. It was clearly not her day.
"I swear, there should be some sort of intelligence test before joining an intelligence agency. A pen could have a bullet in it or a computer or anything."
"It's just a pen," he apologised. "It doesn't even have Girls Clothes Falling Off technology in it!"
"Use this pen, anyway. I'll be keeping this." McCaine handed Nick an SIO issue pen and kept Nick's pen for herself. It would be a nice pen, after she had checked it wasn't going to kill anyone.
Nick looked at the first test on the test while McCaine rummaged around in her bag some more.
The first question was, 'Do you consider yourself a more introverted person or a more extroverted person?'
Nick asked, "Is this really important for the SIO?"
"Oh, no, of course not, it just gives you something to do while I read your personal file."
Nick said nothing as she flicked open a depressingly thin manilla folder and began to read.
"Just answer as honestly as you can," McCaine said.
Nick did so, filling in two sides of A4 with ticks indicating his stance on such issues as 'Would you give away your last biscuit?' and 'Would you consider yourself more giving or more taking?' which made Nick smile a bit.
McCaine smiled as she read Nick's file, which worried Nick a bit.
"Can I read my file?" Nick asked.
"Of course not!" McCaine said, still smiling, "This is confidential information."
"But it's my file!"
"Wrong," she said, waving a finger, "It's the SIO's file. Besides, I should hope there's nothing in there that you don't know."
"Well, I suppose not. I'd just like to know what the SIO thinks of me."
McCaine closed the folder and put it back in her bag.
"They think you're just an ordinary guy, but not suspiciously so."
Nick said, "Oh, that's good, then."
McCaine looked down at the table. "Are you finished?"
Nick handed the paper over and McCaine looked over it quickly.
She said, "You've not put your staff number on."
Nick arched his eyebrows. "Should I know my staff number?"
McCaine sighed. "Secret Homeworld Affairs decide their own staff numbers. And they can change them whenever they like. This is mine."
She showed Nick her ID card, which said:

Lucy McCaine
Operations Staff
Eater Of Cake

Nick looked back at McCaine, who said, "It doesn't have to contain numbers either. Good, eh? We have our own card printing machine in the SHA offices. It's supposed to be for times when we need to infiltrate other buildings but we just use it to give ourselves hilarious cards."
"That's... brilliant," said Nick, his mind swimming with all the possibilities.
McCaine put the personality test back on the table and towards him.
"So, take your pick."
Nick looked at the inviting line labelled 'Staff Number'. After a few moments thought, he carefully wrote something and passed it back to McCaine.
She read it and laughed. "New Guy. It's perfect. Welcome to the Shadows."
They shook hands.
Nick sat back on the sofa, allowing himself to sink into it much further than before. He drained his coffee. There was more sugary residue at the bottom than he had hitherto thought imaginable. It was sort of orange and very thick. He couldn't resist himself and stuck a finger into it.
"So," McCaine said, "how do you feel about putting your life in danger?"
"Well..." said Nick, "If it's for the good of the planet..."
McCaine nodded her head thoughtfully. "Well, it's not, it's for the good of the SIO, but their needs overlap almost entirely, so that'll do. We always have openings for field agents, however you can stay in the admin job if you like."
"So, I could be a secret agent? Just like that?"
"Pretty much," McCaine said, "You get danger pay, of course."
Nick was secretly delighted, but didn't think would be the appropriate response, so he said, "Sounds great."
"We'll talk about this later, it all depends on your background check, of course, but I have a good feeling about you."
Nick beamed. "I have a good feeling about you too!"
McCaine frowned. "What?"
"Nothing."
"We should probably get going, come on."
McCaine led them both to a large lobby, containing many lifts. She hit a button and a door opened instantly. Inside was a small keypad, into which McCaine entered the floor number.
Nick, who had never seen a lift with a keypad before said, "I've never seen a lift with a keypad before."
"Lifts have to use keypads here, it would be silly to put three hundred and seventy buttons here instead, wouldn't it?"
"I guess so," said Nick weakly.
McCaine pulled a phone out of her pocket, which looked extremely expensive and nothing like Nick had seen before.
Probably SIO issue, Nick thought.
"Hello, it's McCaine. Get someone to send the new entrants home. Tell them to come back when Mary is here." McCaine listened to someone else talk. "Well, obviously THEY won't know, get Mary to ring them when she's back!" She hung up crossly and shoved the phone back inside her pocket.
Nick decided not to say anything, but the lift ride was quite a long one and eventually he cracked.
"So, where are we going?"
"The Moon," McCaine replied, "The security breach means we're only going to run a skeleton staff here until we know who those people were. Listen, Nick, I don't think you realise how serious this might be. Nobody has got anything we consider important out of here in a long time. What you saw with the briefcases may well be how they did it, which would explain a lot."
She said, "We've got so much data security around here that I guess we sort of neglected the old tricks."
"Very old tricks," Nick corrected.
McCaine didn't say anything else until the lift arrived at the top of the building and the doors opened into a brilliantly lit sky lobby, which looked out over the entire city of London and beyond. A thin column of smoke was rising from a building in the middle distance.
They stepped out of the lift and a firm hand placed itself on Nick's chest.
"He's with me," McCaine said. The hand was lifted and placed back upon the gun the guard was holding. He nodded grimly at Nick. The guests of secret agents were not looked upon kindly, as they usually weren't very good guests.
Together they walked across the sky lobby towards the access lift to the spacecraft.
"The Shadows usually have access to very good space craft," McCaine said.
Nick smiled. "Great."
"Usually."
Nick's face fell. McCaine continued, "From the looks of that ship we saw earlier, it seems we'll be flying quite a bog standard freighter, more suited to things that don't need legroom. We should be alright, though, we won't fill every seat."
As they walked, they were approached by a man who seemed to know McCaine, observed Nick.
His suspicions were confirmed when he said, "Hello, McCaine, another bloody administrative cock-up, eh?"
When he noticed Nick hovering behind McCaine, he said, "Who's this?"
"This is Nick Hall," said McCaine, moving aside to leave him fully exposed. "He's pretty new, as in starting today new, but he's attached to us and he's coming to support our admin on the Moon."
"Sounds great," said the man, "we could always use more help with our admin. It's backbreaking at times. My name's Agent England, pleased to meet you."
They shook hands. Nick said, "So your first name is Agent?"
"No," said England, who turned back to McCaine. "Has he been briefed on the full situation so far?"
"Oh, not properly." McCaine turned to Nick. "Hall, today a major security breach occurred, in which information was transported off-site by unknown persons. The information lost is classified. The department it was lost from is classified. We will relocate to the Moon. The reason for that is classified."
"But-"
"Classified," said McCaine firmly, giving him a very meaningful look.
"I'm going up to the ship," said England, "I'm going to claim at least two seats for myself, so I've got some legroom."
After he'd left, Nick said, "But I thought we were going to the Moon because-"
"You'll find out why when we receive the secure briefing on the journey. They are assuming word is going to get out, so the less detail the better."
McCaine beckoned them towards the lifts. "Come on," she said, "let's get on before they make us carry anything."
They made towards the second set of lifts and got in. There were only two buttons, which Nick found very reassuring.
"Okay, just need this..." McCaine said, pulling her ID badge out of it's holder. To Nick's mounting horror, she pushed it into a discreet slot. Out slid a keypad, into which McCaine entered a series of numbers. The pad slid away and one of the buttons lit up. McCaine pressed it firmly and slid her ID card back into her pocket.
She turned to look at Nick. Nick was biting his lip.
McCaine cocked her head and said, "Been into space much?"
"Only for holidays. And that was once."
"Oh, where did you go?"
"Nowhere," Nick said, glumly. "It was a cruise. Around Earth."
"Ooh, nice," she said.
The lift reached the top and the doors opened. A slight breeze caught them as they stepped into the large hanger. It had a retractable roof, designed to let in only slightly irritating amounts of cold, wind and rain. It was a curious feeling, like being in the Limbo that lay betwixt In and Outdoors.
They walked towards the large grey spacecraft, as the most highly paid window cleaners on Earth scraped and blasted off the last of the Earth's atmosphere off it.
Nick read the ship's name as they got closer. "'The Boatman', eh? Sounds a bit ominous."
They boarded and McCaine led them to some seats. "Find a few, make yourself comfy," she said. "Give your seat up for someone if I give you the nod."
This worried Nick a little, who took up a window seat on an empty row. He didn't really need a second seat, but McCaine sat two seats away from him and put her bag on the seat between them.
"All comfy?" McCaine asked.
"Sure, thanks. There's quite a few people here already," said Nick, looking over the back of his seat and down the large expanse of seats designed to hold hundreds. Everyone had spaced themselves out so they looked deceptively large in number.
"I'd say we're taking about fifty with us," McCaine said. She sat back in her seat and pulled out yet another manilla folder.
"Is that my file?"
"That's classified," she replied. Nick suspected he was going to be hear that phrase a lot over the coming days.
Nick sat still in his seat for all of five minutes. After a while, he checked his pockets and sat back, looking dejected. He had a thought and looked over to McCaine, who was looking vaguely interested in what was classified.
"Er, McCaine," Nick said, not really used to calling people by their surnames, having not done it since he went to school and even then he usually added some interesting twist on it.
He would have gone for 'McCainey', had he been back there.
He continued, "I was wondering, my phone was taken away when I entered."
"That's a surprise."
"I was just wondering if I could... have it back..."
McCaine folded close the folder and turned to look at Nick. "I can get you an SIO phone, if you like. They're pretty good."
"Will I be able to access my home computer to get all my phone numbers with it?"
Smiling, McCaine said, "You will be able to access any network in the Global Union, and plenty that aren't."
To Nick, this sounded like, "yes" so he smiled back and said, "That would be great. Thanks."
He watched with guarded curiosity as a few men carried several boxes on board. There was a brief commotion as the man closing the door got his tie stuck.
"Take off will begin in 10 minutes or when the hanger door opens, whichever is first," came a voice.
Nick looked out of the window and saw two of the people scraping the wing look surprised, then scurry off.
Nobody spoke during the wait for and subsequent take off. Nick's reason for this, he suspected, was very different to everybody else's. He thought secret agents were supposed to be charming and sociable, but they appeared to him to be a bunch of moody sods.
The ship lurched unsteadily, not at all enjoying being around so much gravity. Earth  fell away from Nick's window quickly and the view out of the window suddenly turned black.
"That'll be all the atmosphere," McCaine said off-handedly. "If you were hoping to see the universe in all it's glory, you don't start from Earth.
Nick turned away from the window and slumped in his seat. He thought about how he could survive the journey without having to sit there for however long it took, probably a long time, without talking to anybody.
He looked sidelong at McCaine, eyeing her up for any opportunities for conversation.
"Shut up," said McCaine, not looking up.
"I didn't say anything!" Nick protested, louder than he'd meant in the almost silent cabin. Silent apart from the huge engines pushing them into space, of course.
"You just did, be quiet, I'm reading."
Nick sat with his mouth open waiting for some way to continue, but came up with nothing. He sat back in his seat.
"Oh, by the way," said McCaine, "you'll probably want to grab some gravity shoes. They're magnetic, so you'll be able to walk sort-of-normally on the ship."
"Where are they?"
"Under your seat."
Nick pulled out a pair, adjusted them to his size and slipped them on. He sat back. They were quite comfy, to say they were filled with metal.
He didn't want to get too comfortable. If he fell asleep on the first spaceship ride on the first day of his soon-to-be very well paid job, it wouldn't give a very good impression.
Nick toyed with the idea of trading in the points he'd gained for spotting the briefcase switch for a nap, but he decided against it.
As the spacecraft escaped the clutches of the homeworld's gravity, the flight quietened and smoothed out. Nick was still jolly excited to be in space, especially as he in space on business. That meant he was moving up in the world. Or at least moving away from it.
Nick's boredom didn't remain for long.
A few minutes after the spacecraft had left Earth, a man stood and walked to the front of the cabin. He fiddled around in a box for a while, leaving Nick on the edge of his seat as he craned for a better view.
He eventually retrieved a megaphone from wherever one stores megaphones and addressed the cabin.
"Hello? Hello, everyone."
Nick whispered, "Who's that?"
McCaine said, "Agent Orange. He's quite senior, so he often gets the important jobs that actual important people don't want to do."
The megaphone shouted, "As you know, today we had a major security breach. We gather it was a well executed plan, but one of our own spotted them."
McCaine nudged Nick with mock excitement, "That's you, that is!"
"I wasn't one of your own when I spotted it!" Nick whispered.
"The Secret Homeworld Affairs agency doesn't worry about little things like that."
      Orange continued, "-and as such, we believe the information to be regarding the whereabouts of certain men connected with an extremely large amount of enriched uranium. Nobody has told us they've lost a lot of uranium, yet, so we don't know whose it is, but only governments are going to be dealing with the amounts we're talking."
Nick bit his lip. This was very exciting.
"Now, we don't know what these men are doing with that kind of uranium and we don't know who wants it or, more importantly, who is going to get it. The amount is enough to make more nuclear weapons than I'd like to talk about without my wife to hold me."
McCaine leaned over towards Nick and said, "That's probably why we're going to the moon, I wouldn't want to hang around Earth with that much uranium lost."
Everyone in the cabin sat expectantly, while Orange read something from a piece of paper.
Orange screwed the paper up and said, "Now, that's the bad news. The good is that we have plenty to go on. We have plenty of video footage of the switch, thanks to the good spot. That's lots of nice camera angles and access logs of the building for us to go on. We also know where the holders are likely to be. We also know who might want the uranium, but that's pretty much anyone."
As Orange divided people into teams, McCaine said to Nick, "You should probably just stay in the office. When there's spies around, I mean spies that aren't us, nobody likes to see the new guy getting in the way."
"Yes, I'm sure it'll be safer."
McCaine looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hmm, nope, pretty sure I didn't say it would be safer. Just better."
Nick didn't feel too worried by this. He hoped that qualified him for danger pay.
"McCaine!" shouted Orange.
"Ooh, yes!" she cried, standing.
Orange said, "McCaine, you'll be heading one of our leads on the uranium holders on the Moon. I've got intel on our first guy up here."
"Right," she said, pulling herself up to her full height and marching to the front. Nick watched as her and Orange exchanged a few words in private, with McCaine nodding quite a lot. Nick was sure he could nod more than that in the face of a superior.
She hurried back to her seat with a green folder. It was a lot thicker than Nick's and appeared to have paperclips holding almost certainly interesting snippets inside.
"Shut up," McCaine said as she sat down. She flipped open the folder and buried her nose inside.
After a minute of expectant looking, Nick asked, "Can I see?"
"No. It's classified."
McCaine rolled her eyes. "It's so classified it's not even written on it. Honestly, do you think we write classified on everything? Why don't we just write 'STATE SECRETS - PLEASE STEAL' on them?"
"But I should know what's going on, right?"
"You already know everything you should," she said, "You're going to do some filing on the Moon. It's fun. Filing with low gravity is not something to be easily dismissed."
Nick looked dubious.
McCaine continued, "Besides, this is filing for a secret agency. In a way, it's more like anti-filing. All our expense reports are very carefully mismanaged, any documents we acquire or create generally have a need to be lost, or at least kept in a very hard to find place. You will become very intimate with the shredcinerator."
"The... shredcinerator?"
McCaine beamed. "Oh, it's wonderful. It shreds anything, then incinerates it, then shreds the ashes!"
"Does it incinerate them after?"
"No. Don't be stupid. Also, I'm sure you'll have untold fun abusing the card printing machine we have, as well as the various other destructive gadgets we have come to rely on."
Nick sat back in his seat. "Sounds fun."
McCaine turned back to her file.
"Also," she added, "you'll get full, read-only, access to most government databases. There's weeks of fascinating reading on there."
Nick said, with not a hint of sarcasm, "Something I've always wanted."


* * *


As the pilot announced they were turning onto the vector to land on the Moon, small groups had gathered throughout the cabin, talking in low whispers and pointing out what Nick was sure were very interesting pieces of information.
McCaine herself was discussing matters with a few of her presumably lesser colleagues. She kept checking on Nick, which Nick had noticed and felt very annoyed about. He noticed the toilets were located to the front and rear of the cabin, so he decided to take the initiative and make use of it's facilities before he wet himself.
He also fancied a bit of a break from being constantly observed, although Nick wasn't too sure what protection a flimsy toilet door would offer when he was in a closed vessel with fifty spies.
He stood and McCaine's eyes were instantly on him, something Nick had been expecting.
"Just, err..." he said, pointing towards the front of the cabin, hoping he wouldn't have to say anything that might be considered similar to what a child would say to his mum.
He stepped forward, still pointing, as McCaine's eyes rested upon him. She didn't say a word and her expression was entirely unreadable. He took a few tentative steps forward, nervously awaiting a command, cowering under her gaze like a guilty dog.
He followed his fingers hopefully and after a few more tentative steps, he guessed he was actually allowed to use the toilet and McCaine just thought he was weird.
He scurried down the aisle and slammed the door behind him.
"Do you mind?" said Agent Orange.
Nick screamed. "Argh! Oh my god. Oh, sorry, Mr, er, Agent Orange?"
At school, Nick would have gone for Peeley, which was both a play on words and had a little twist on the end.
"It is rather cramped in here. Perhaps you would like me to leave?"
"Yes!" said Nick. "I mean, no, well I do mean yes but-"
"You're in the way."
"Oh, sorry," stammered Nick, backing out of the toilet and allowing Orange to pass.
"Hall, isn't it?" said Orange, now in the slightly more socially acceptable venue for a chat than a small toilet.
"Yes, sir."
"Good work, Hall," said Orange, offering his hand.
Nick looked dumbly at the outstretched hand, alarmed that he was apparently being thanked for barging in to what many consider one of their most private moments.
"I've washed it, you know!" snapped Orange.
"Oh, sorry, sir, I just wondered... ohh, the briefcases! Oh, thank you sir."
Nick grasped Orange's hand and shook it firmly, almost maniacally.
"Well, carry on," said Orange, leaving Nick to very quickly hide himself in the toilet. He did a brief check nobody else had snuck in to embarrass him further before he hid, of course.
"So much for first impressions," he muttered.
"Indeed."
Nick, who was beyond screaming, simply fell backwards into the toilet door, before sliding and grabbing the sink for support.
"Er, hello?"
"Hello, I am the toilet. People often find it relaxing to converse with me while their daily activities are performed. Would you like to continue speaking with me?"
"No, thank you," said Nick hurriedly, who had always been told that if you stayed in space too long, you'd go a bit strange. That apparently applied to toilets, as well.
It occurred to him that he had just thanked a toilet and he wondered how long he'd been in space already.
Nick made use of the facilities, having his eyes closed most of the time in case the toilet did something unspeakable.
"You missed!" cried the toilet as Nick left.
"Ssh!" Nick replied, hurrying back to his seat.
The pilot warned everyone that they were about to land and if they were holding any hot drinks, they might want to sit down.
The landing was smooth and, like trying to land a bag of helium on Earth, the only hard part was getting it to stay landed.
McCaine beckoned Nick over to her as the passengers begin to disembark.
"Come on," she said, "I'll show you to your new office and get you and get you up to speed on the card machine."
Nick followed. They walked down the steps and into a small hanger, although it could only be considered small if you considered how close the walls were to the ship. It looked awfully tight, Nick observed.
They strode quickly towards a door, with McCaine waving them through. Nick was prepared this time and didn't catch either of the guard's eyes as they looked grimly at him, which he was almost certain they were.
Inside, McCaine led them past more security personnel, who were sitting behind glass windows looking grimly at them. Nick hadn't counted on that. Presently, they arrived a probably the longest single longest powered walkway he had ever seen. It even had a fast lane.
Nick narrowed his eyes. "I can't see where it ends."
"Don't worry, I doubt it's possible, with the curvature in the moon. The horizons are a lot shorter here and this entire building is almost single storey."
They stepped onto the slow lane. Nick looked at the signposts. They were saturated with directions and even had some more hastily taped on.
"Why is it all single storey?"
"It's cheaper, I guess. Plus it means a lot more get to have penthouse offices. Currently there are nine, although there is a planned extension of the Department Of Resources And Energy to have a third floor, which many of the other floor two departments are opposing."
"I see," said Nick, gaining a valuable and terrifying insights of how office politics works in Global Union. "So we share offices with other government departments?"
"Again, cheaper."
They came to a crossroads of sorts. The moving floor ceased for a few feet, then continued over the horizon. To each side, more walkways powered their way to offices and meeting rooms. Signposts filled every wall and in the case of the rather new department, The Moon Citizens Advice Bureau, the ceiling.
They carried on forward. McCaine started tapping her foot impatiently, while leaning against the side. She looked up at Nick.
"I'm going on a dangerous mission," she said bluntly.
Nick couldn't tell if she was being serious or just making fun of him.
"Really?" he said, trying to keep the balance of disbelief and sympathy in such a way that he could plausibly deny either.
"I'm going to the see the EnergyWay miners."
"Is it... far?" Nick said, erring on the side of disbelief.
"No, of course it's not far, we just came from the Earth to the Moon in about four hours. No, it's not far. It's just quite dangerous. I'll have to wear a space suit."
Nick resisted every urge he had to go, "A space suit? On the moon? Get out!" but he didn't because this was his first day and she was the only thing he had like a boss.
"I hate wearing space suits. It's just a piece of cloth protecting me from being horribly murdered by the very atmosphere. It's a bit... weird."
"It is very expensive, high technology cloth," Nick reassured her.
"Also, there will be dangerous mining equipment and a clear shot for the universe at large to throw rocks at me. Oh and perhaps dangerous criminals."
"Not a good mix," said Nick.
"Not at all."
McCaine leaned in moody silence, something all spies must be trained in, Nick thought. They reached the end of the powered walkway and they stepped off.
"Right," said McCaine, "it's time to use the fast lane."
Nick looked uncertainly at the fast lane. It certainly lived up to it's title, being both fast and certainly resembling a lane.
"Most people find it easier to get a run up," said McCaine.
"Right."
Nick looked at McCaine.
"You go first," she said.
Nick said, "Right," again, although a little quieter. He threw his leg back and McCaine put a hand on his chest.
"And a run up."
"Right."
Nick stepped back, took a run up, hit the first step on the walkway and fell flat on his now bruised-in-thin-lines behind.
McCaine stepped calmly on after him, walked to catch up and gave him a lift up.
"Oh, I get it, I'm the new guy," said Nick sourly, "I thought I could trust you."
McCaine arched her eyebrows. "It's not a joke," she said, "for most people, that really helps. You're just... unbalanced."
Nick felt bad for saying he didn't trust her, but then she was a secret agent. She must get that sort of thing all the time.
While Nick tried to covertly rub his arse, he saw the end rapidly approaching. He turned to McCaine with panic.
"Okay, what's the easiest way to get off?"
"Oh, I don't think it would help you," she said, "It didn't work last time."
Nick bobbed up and down nervously. "I'd like to know, all the same!"
McCaine looked around, bored.
"M... McCaine!" Nick pleaded, as he watched the end rapidly approach.
Nick's eyes were glued to the end. The Moon, he recalled with horror, was low gravity, something you didn't really notice when walking because the floors were magnetic. But stumbling forward at a rate of speed from a moving walkway was just going to get him onto another one...
Nick considered closing his eyes when the walkway began to slow. He wobbled a little until it was down to walking speed. McCaine stepped calmly off, while Nick stumbled a little. He breathed and realised had been holding his breath.
"Why doesn't it speed up slowly as well?!" cried Nick, after he caught his breath.
McCaine set off down a side corridor's walkway, in the fast lane.
"Cheaperrr..." she said, speeding away.
Nick took another deep breath and stepped on, grabbing on to the side to keep himself upright. He straightened up and walked after her.
"Not far now," she said.
"I think I prefer lifts."
"Too claustrophobic for me," said McCaine, wrinkling her nose. "And I don't like the up and down-ness of it all. Side to side is a much more natural direction to moved in."
Nick didn't agree.
They reached the end, with Nick bracing for it not slowing down, just in case.
To Nick's relief, McCaine led them down the more conventional kind of corridor, which didn't move. They passed through a card access door and into a hive of activity, albeit a fumigated one. The entire office was empty.
"Perfect," said McCaine, "where do you want to sit?"
"Is there a window seat?" asked Nick, peering around the room?
"Yes," McCaine replied, "one. Over there."
Nick followed McCaine's finger.
"That... small... black thing?" said Nick, with disappointment. "I thought it was a clock."
"A small clock," he added, quietly.
Nicked walked over the office towards it. He peered outside. It faced a wall after about a metre. He looked around and saw another small window, with someone else looking through it. They ducked quickly out of sight.
Looking up, Nick saw a brief patch of the sky, glittering with stars.
"I imagine it will be quite scenic if I'm sat down, looking right up..." he said.
"Okay..." said McCaine, next to him. "You're going to need some documents to spread around to lay your claim."
She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a few folders. "Hmm, these look to be the least classified ones I don't need anymore, here."
She handed him a few folders with "TOP SECRET: CLASSIFIED" written on them.
"Oh, here!" she said, handing him another one, "This is your file."
Nick put them in a neat pile on what was now his desk. After a moment, he picked a few up and marked where he thought the edge of the desk should be. He was quite generous. He had two rows of filing cabinets now.
"Nice. Now then, all of those ones with 'secret' written on them need to be destroyed."
"Right," said Nick, wishing he had a notepad and, he thought glumly, a pen.
She pointed to a plain blue file. "That's my expense reports. You have to input them into the accounting system, which I'm sure someone will tell you how to access. It's very important that none of those things you enter are correct. However, right at the end, when you check the total to add to my account, change the box to read what it should say and add a few thousand, I'm going to need to buy some non-standard equipment.
She added, "And I'll help you out with money while we get you set up here. I don't think you'll be going back to Earth for a few days."
McClain started to walk off while Nick got acquainted with his seat.
"I'm going to get you a laptop. You should have everything you need in those drawers."
Nick pulled open the first drawer of his new filing cabinet and found it stocked with equal amount of pens and notepads.
"Here you go," McClain said, peeling off a sticker that said, 'Jude Lawson'.
She pulled open a drawer and took out a notepad and pen and scribbled down a few words. "Use these to log on," she said. "Come here, I'll show you the card machine and we'll get you a card. Then I'm going shopping."
The card printing machine was surprisingly simple. "It's genius lies in it's accessibility," commented McCaine.
In the space of five minutes, Nick now had three ID cards, which McCaine assured him would all be necessary. He had his actual job title, a card which proclaimed him 'Procurement Executive', which was a license to steal anything he wanted and one that said 'Field Agent', which was to impress people everyone else.
By now, a few people carrying boxes had found their way over and were staking claims of their own, in the corners.
"You should just play about on the laptop and see what's going on," McCaine said. "I'll come meet you here later and we'll sort out some place for you to stay and stuff."
McCaine patted her pockets and pulled out her credit card. "I, on the other hand am going shopping. Any exotic weapons you desire?"
"Ooh, no thanks," said Nick, who considered printing a card that said 'Pacifist'.
"See you later, Hall," she said, leaving.
Nick padded back to his desk and turned on his laptop. He loaded up his web browser and poked around the local intranet. Of particular interest to him was the 'Café Menu'. He decided he needed a break and decided to go and find the café. The slow way.
He looked at a clock. It was 7pm, Earth time. He decided to stick to that and stepped out of the office. After spending two minutes reading all the signs, he found the one he wanted and stepped off, in the slow lane, to get himself a roast turkey and stuffing dinner.

* * *

It was 9pm by the time McCaine returned. Nick had already completed the accounts work, crediting McCaine with six thousand Earth pounds. He had also completed all of the filing, having carefully shredded and incinerated it, twice.
"Having fun?" she said, dropping a large bag onto the table. It made a loud, metallic noise.
Nick looked up from his laptop and yawned. "Oh yes," he said, covering his mouth, "I love working late. Look, it's even dark outside!"
McCaine smiled wanly. She looked tired. "Come on, you've done enough work for today."
"I have?"
"Oh, I'm sure you have. How many ID cards do you have now?"
Nick sheepishly pulled open one of his drawers and quickly closed it. McCaine shook her head sadly. "Earth's tax dollars at work," she said. "Let's go find you a hotel."
They stepped out of the office and down the walkways to reach the main entrance to the building.
"There's two main places to go if you're looking for somewhere to stay on the Moon," explained McCaine, "there's the surface and the subsurface."
"The surface sounds nice," said Nick.
"Oh, it is, if you like walking through glass tubes."
They stepped through the main lobby, past the security checks, which were always easier going out and out onto the surface of the moon. It was paved
Outside of the building, their gravity shoes ceased to be effective, with no magnetic field beneath their feat. They bounded along the street, a wide road with low buildings containing various shops. Up above, a thick glass and plastic dome arched overhead, with Earth hanging in the sky like, well, like the Moon, really.
"There's a nice hotel not far from here. I'll be staying there, too, I think, because when I say nice, I mean it has six stars. And a ribbon and a badge."
Nick wasn't very experienced with walking in low gravity, which is to say he'd had no experience at all. He almost bounced straight into the street, before he managed to land and almost fall over trying to turn too fast.
McCaine calmly turned the corner and said, "There's the hotel."
Nick looked ahead and saw the luxury hotel. It towered above the rest of the street, standing four storeys high.
"I want the penthouse!" McCaine said.
"I'll just have whatever," said Nick.
"I know."
McCaine walked them in and booked them two separate rooms. It was only when they were stood outside their respective rooms, Nick being booked on a third floor room next to McCaine, as the penthouse was taken, that Nick thought about how attractive McCaine was.
He knew he shouldn't be thinking such career-destroying thought as 'my boss is pretty hot', but it's human instinct to do so with any person with whom you are sharing a hotel but not a room with.
"Goodnight," said McCaine, who wasn't thinking any such thoughts and just wanted to drink something from the minibar and go to bed.
"Night," replied Nick, entering his room.
He padded around it, observing how shiny the bathroom was, how soft the bed felt and how many mints you were given.
There was an entire tray of chocolates on the pillow.
He bounced on the bed softly.
What a crazy day, he thought. He was on the moon, working with a secret agent and staying in a posh hotel, for free, with a beautiful lady.
Presently, there was a knock on the door. He quickly walked over and opened it.
To his delight, it was McCaine.
"You should have used the peep hole," she said, sweeping in to the room. "I'm only here to take your wine." And she was. No sooner than she had entered, she had gone, leaving Nick's minibar a little emptier.
He jumped back on to the bed, pushing the tray of chocolates to the side and lay back. Yawning, he turned off the light.
It was too late to ring his mum, he thought, so he'd do that tomorrow.