Graduation

Graduation is the best time in a growing and in some cases grown boy’s life. It is when our cohort, all three point six billion of us living in the colony get to graduate to our future assignments of mopping up dirty water and, if we’re lucky, serving drinks to the rich people. And that’s fine, because they implant your brain with these cool drugs that make everything not so bad. Sometimes if you knock your brain around a bit you can get a pretty good high out of it. Be careful, though, because the thing is only glass and if you skewer your brain you’ve only got yourself to blame.

So here we are, all lined up to receive our ID card and graduate to the next level. We were living our life of luxury earlier, being served drinks and having our dirty water mopped up. But now that we’re old we have to start serving to the next generation, I’m sure they’re going to be a bunch of swell guys and gals!

„Thank you professor Mister” I said to the man handing my my ID card. It was wrapped in brown paper so I didn’t know what job I would be working; and it was an ID card so I’d have to scan it at a nearby terminal to actually know what job I would be working. I’m sure it’s gonna be something good.

Later on I found myself at the terminal and, right on cue, everybody else was checking theirs at the same time. An interplanetary line had formed and more interplanetary footpaths had to be made to accommodate everyone. I was waaaaaay back at the line but so many people joined that soon the back became the middle. The line moved pretty quick so I would be able to see my results soon. A lot of people complain about the lack of staff service but I have a sneaking suspicion that this lining up is what kills it. Before we would get our paper that would say our occupation, but that forced us to deforest an entire planet every few decades, so that was scrapped.

“Man, is there all there is to this life? Just live in luxury then work for the next generation for the rest of our lives?” The girl behind me asked. Obviously she had figured out ahead of time what job she was getting and got something not so good. Jokes on her because I didn’t care what job I was getting, because it was going to be good no matter what. I stepped forward for a bit, but realised the line wasn’t going to be moving for a while and got comfy on the ground.

I awoke to explosions above me. Due to a combined effort by all the powerfuls they had restored all the oxygen in space that should be there. It was now breathable but they did have to turn the sound down on all the stars. Ah well you fix something and break something else. Humans had been at war with the galaxies for many years now and a smaller battle was raging above us. For the uninitiated, the galaxies were not too happy about their monopoly on vacuums in space being challenge by oxygen life forms, and they started fighting back. Orion was their commander but we would never see them from the drinks bar we would be serving from.

Thank god galaxies are easy to deal with, you just take out their suns piecemeal, rig them to blow, and you win. And that’s what they were doing, although the galaxy wasn’t fighting back. It must be lazy. Woah boy the line started moving at this point. We were all waking up from our interplanetary slumber (not as cool as it sounds) and had started moving briskly to the terminal. Our shuffle broke into a brisk walk which broke into a sprint. The floating newsprompters were informing us about who was being killed via trampling. Oh Harold, damn I liked that guy. No problem though, I would soon have dopamine freshly injected into my brain, and all would be well.

Finally I had made it, the end of the line, or the beginning I dunno. But the point was I was almost at the front. Relatively, I still had a few years of moving, sprinting and sleeping to do. But, I would know soon, and I could be happy.