Chapter 11 #2
He shook his head. “Not necessarily. If you scroll through, you’ll see 95 percent of the listings are for the same thing: material assembly, all on Isle H.
Once you’re assigned to a manager there, chances are they’ll just keep routing you back to the same location, even if the actual tasks shift a little.
Consistency isn’t the system’s strong suit, but it’s not total chaos either. ”
He leaned back, stretching one arm over the side of the chair. “Construction’s not complicated here. The buildings come prefabricated, most of the heavy lifting’s done by machines. They just need teams to monitor the process and keep things from falling apart.”
“What do you mean, prefabricated?” I asked.
He let out a short breath through his nose. “Fair question.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s like a puzzle. The buildings come in pieces—walls, floors, framework—pre-cut and ready to slot together on site. All we’re doing is fitting them into place.”
“Where do they make all that?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it. “And where do they even get that much material?”
“Fairwell’s got an industrial estate buried in one of the mountain ranges, at the back of the main island. Whole thing’s hollowed out… factory complex the size of a small city. That’s where they process and prep most of the materials.”
I gave a low whistle. Efficient didn’t even begin to cover it.
“And the raw materials?” I pressed. “They mine them from the island itself or…?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Not sure of all the details, but from what I’ve heard, most of it comes from underwater sites. Ocean floor extraction. Fairwell has entire plants operating down there.”
That took a second to sink in. If they’d figured out how to mine the ocean, resource scarcity probably wasn’t high on their list of concerns.
“So,” I said, circling back, “you mentioned I need to reapply for a new slot every day. How does that work, exactly?”
He gave me a faint half-smile. “I was just about to get to that.” He reached into the bag at his feet and, after a moment’s rummaging, drew out a gunmetal-gray ring.
He didn’t just hand it to me—he held it up between two fingers, letting it catch the light, almost like he was making an offer or a wager. “This is for you.”
I laughed, more at his mock-ceremonial delivery than the ring itself. I’d known one was coming but not like this. The humor faded quickly, replaced by a prickle of unease I couldn’t quite explain. Hayden’s expression gave nothing away.
“So I use this to apply for jobs?” I asked, turning the ring in my palm. “How does it work?” The metal was smooth and strangely light. I brushed my finger over the edge and a small display blinked to life, showing the time.
He watched me with that same unreadable expression. “On your pad, tap any of those job listings,” he instructed.
I pressed the first one at the top. A rectangle appeared on the screen, perfectly matching the flat area on the ring.
“Every morning, when you’re reserving a job slot, just touch the ring to that rectangle.
That’s how you claim the job. If you don’t check in within forty-five minutes, it goes back up for grabs.
” He glanced at me. “Work starts early, usually by 8:30. Some jobs go later. Sometimes you’ll see night shifts. ”
I nodded, though my mind was already racing. “And the rest of the jobs? The ones that aren’t construction?”
He hesitated, just a beat too long. “Those show up sometimes. Management prefers new arrivals avoid them at first.” His voice was easy, but his eyes didn’t linger.
“Why?”
“They’re risky,” he said, as if the answer should be obvious. “Management wants everyone to get used to things before chasing danger.”
“Risky how?”
He shrugged, almost casual. “The kind you don’t always walk away from. You’ll see some tomorrow, if you’re curious.”
“Do they pay better?”
He smirked faintly. “Of course. But I’m supposed to say the safe money’s good enough, for now.”
I scrolled, but found only construction listings. “So why even post those jobs if we’re not meant to take them?”
Hayden lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Maybe someone up the chain likes tempting fate.”
I shot him a look, taking in the loose collar, the rumpled uniform. “Not you, though.”
“I just do my bit.”
I was left unsettled, even more curious. “How long did it take you to get to bronze?”
His fingers drummed the table, and he glanced down at his own ring, mouth flattening into a line. “About a month. But don’t use me as your example.” His tone was offhand, but there was something behind it I couldn’t pin down.
I did the math in my head anyway, plotting how long it would take to get what I needed. If I earned ten thousand in a month, I’d have my parents out of that hospital after the first month, then Bea back with us in under a year…
“Can I start today?”
He shook his head. “If you hurry, you might catch the tail end of a shift, but by the time you’re processed, it’ll be time to go home. Start fresh in the morning. Trust me.”
His “trust me” didn’t feel like reassurance so much as a challenge.
I tried the ring on my thumb, but it wouldn’t fit. “I think it’s too small.”
He leaned forward, his eyes sharp, but not unkind. “Here, the clamp. Open it.” He showed me, his touch brief, businesslike.
I adjusted the ring, slid it onto my thumb, and snapped the clasp shut just as Hayden started to say something.
He let out a quiet breath. “Once that clamp’s closed, the ring won’t come off.”
I froze, suddenly hyperaware of the cold band locked around my thumb. “Wait. You mean permanently?”
He nodded, watching me. “Until you get it officially removed. There’s a process. Founders’ Fortress can take it off, if you really want out. Or, you know, you could try something drastic.” His voice was matter-of-fact, but there was a shadow beneath it I couldn’t quite place.
Panic fluttered in my chest. I twisted the ring, tugged at it, but it didn’t budge. The clamp was seamless, tight, impossibly final.
“And if I don’t want to keep it on?”
“Most people get used to it. You will too.”
I flexed my thumb, searching for any give, but there was none. The ring felt light as air, but the weight of it pressed down, sudden and suffocating. A shackle disguised as jewelry.
Hayden gestured to the screen. “Your tablet’s got maps, contacts. Directions if you need them. Or ask around. Most people here will talk, if you know how to ask.”
He stood, grabbing his bag and pausing at the door. “You can call me if you run into trouble. Or just don’t run into trouble.” The faintest smile touched his mouth. “That’d be best, Miss Lockwood.”
He offered his hand—firm, warm, rougher than I expected. I met his eyes, searching for some clue to what he was thinking, but they gave nothing away.
Then he turned and slipped out the door, the quiet closing of it echoing in the small space behind him.
I watched him go through the window, ring cooling against my skin, unsure whether I’d just gotten help—or walked into something I didn’t understand at all.