Once Runstom and Jax had found the relevant materials, the library’s patrons melted into the background as they furiously searched for the information they desperately needed to make their next move. Jax’s voice had broken a long silence.

“What combination?” Runstom was flipping through a manufacturer directory, trying to find the 356201 ID in the index. Rather obnoxiously, the listing was sorted alphabetically by company name, rather than numerically by ID, so he’d been flipping and scanning for almost twenty minutes. The pages were not paper, which he’d encountered very rarely on visits to environments with enough atmosphere to support actual plant-matter – such as Terroneous. Instead these pages were the standard, everyday, all-purpose plastic that everything in a dome was composed of, from candy wrappers to clothing to buildings.

“Well, apparently, during the fabrication process, the Life Support systems take a certain path,” Jax said, paraphrasing his book. “They come down an assembly line, then they get imprinted with their core code set, then they get a physical inspection, and finally a system-level inspection. But it’s not always the same from one to the next. They mix it up so that problem areas are easier to find. So that different inspectors are inspecting different fabrication and imprinting lines. The last two letters of that ID string represent a combination code.”

“Okay,” Runstom said, only half paying attention, still scanning the index. Another reason they had to come to a building full of physical books was that the information they needed wasn’t actually available in any electronic form. The corporations that were located on colonized planets such as Sirius-5 were required to make all of their manufacturing process details public – along with their organizational structure and finances – but most of them weren’t happy about it. So rather than provide the required data through one of the digital networks, they complied with the transparency regulations by obtusely printing physical books and distributing a handful of copies to the public library.

“Don’t you see?” Jax grabbed Runstom’s arm, but not his attention. “The system that was used to test the program had a fab-combo designated ‘RG’. That means, there was a specific assembly line that it came down, it was imprinted by a specific system-imprint operator, it was physically inspected by one specific inspection team and one specific inspector ran system-level tests.”

“Ah ha!” Runstom said. “I got it!”

“Oh,” Jax said. “Good.” He sounded disappointed. “I guess I don’t have to explain in detail for once,” he muttered.

Runstom ignored the comment and read out of the book. “Vitality Systems, Incorporated. Plant number 11.”

“Oh, that. You found the plant ID? Does it give a location?”

“There’s another reference here.” Runstom flipped through some pages. “Okay, here we go. It’s in Industrial Sub-Dome A, Grovenham.”

Jax lit up. “That’s only a short mag-rail trip from here!”

“Let’s roll,” Runstom said. “You can explain that whole fab-combo thing to me again on the train.”

The mag-rail had deposited them in the center of aptly-named Industrial Sub-Dome A. From there they’d taken the walkways to the main office of Vitality Systems, Incorporated. The VSI plant occupied roughly a quarter of the entire sub-dome, so the main office wasn’t far away from the mag-rail stop.

Runstom had been anxious to flash his credentials upon arrival, but Jax had managed to talk him out of pulling them out first thing. The operator wanted to have a chance to try a less hostile approach.

“So that’s the story,” Jax said to one of the Sirius-5 plant managers that had come out to greet them. “I’d signed up for the exchange program as part of the Continuing Education Training requirement we have in the LifSup department in Blue Haven. But somewhere between there and here, I lost track of the paperwork.” He shrugged sheepishly and murmured, “It’s my first interstellar trip.”

The office itself was small and Jax felt the ceiling looming just above his head, though it seemed to afford the squat Sirius-Fivers ample room. The plant manager was a woman in her mid-fifties, with shoulder-length black hair and the same beige-white skin that everyone on the planet had. Her face registered a mix of emotions as Jax talked: annoyance, suspicion, exasperation, and then finally turned positive at the mention of education.

“I think the training programs are very important,” she said. “But it’s just that the office staff couldn’t find any record of you in our system. We’ll have to d-mail Blue Haven and have them send us a verification.”

“D-mail all the way to Barnard-4 is going to take days,” Runstom muttered.

“Ah, that’s true,” Jax said. The manager gave Runstom a sideways look and Jax gave a short laugh to regain her attention. “You’ll have to excuse my sponsor, he’s just looking out for my best interests.”

Runstom pursed his lips together and managed a smile. “Is there any way we can at least have a look around?”

“A tour?” Jax added. “A little preview, something to give me a taste of what the program will include?”

The manager looked from Runstom to Jax quietly, then finally said, “How long have you been a Life Support Operator, Mr. Johnson?”

Jax cringed at the uninspired alias they’d come up with just before entering the office, then tried to shake off the discomfort. “Four years now. For the first couple of years I mostly worked with the BreatheTime 6000 series and the Cloud-i-Dome DXr and DXs, but more recently with the VSI 12K line.”

“Yes, that’s good to hear.” The plant manager brightened significantly. “The 12K stuff is some of the best. Very efficient for the price. Efficient and economical.”

“Ah,” Jax said with a smile. “I don’t know much about the cost, but I know how much easier it is to operate than the other systems I’ve worked with.”

“I suppose a tour of the plant wouldn’t harm anything,” the manager said. “After all, you came all the way from Barnard-4.”

She led them into and through the mazelike plant. Jax tried to keep up the façade of interest while trying to keep a lookout for anything that would give them clues about how the inspections worked, and especially for anything marked with inspector identifiers, R and G. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested – in fact, under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have minded at all to get a better understanding of what went into the systems that he’d been on the operating end of for the past few years. But the truth of it was, the familiarity of it all was yanking him back into a life that didn’t exist any more, and it was seriously fucking with his head. Was this a life he even wanted to return to? The safety of the domes? Wasn’t it?

“We’d like to meet some of the inspectors,” Runstom said as they neared the end of the line. Jax flinched at his bluntness. Clearly the officer was running out of patience.

“Our inspectors?” the manager said. “Well, there are some inspection engineers in another section of the plant. But I’m afraid that part is not open to the public. For protective reasons.”

“You mean, it’s dangerous?” Runstom asked.

“Well, no.” She seemed to consider the question for a moment, her eyes drifting upward. “I mean, if anyone saw what we do to test the systems – well, it’s just not for public eyes.”

The three of them stared at each other in silence for a moment, then Jax said, “She’s just obeying the rules.”

Runstom frowned and shifted his body anxiously, tugging at his shirt to straighten it. Finally he said, “We need to know what inspectors are under the combined ID of ‘RG’.”

Jax wanted to say more, but he knew Runstom was right. They had no more time to mess around. The manager cocked her head, then took a reflexive step backward. “What is this? Who are you?”