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"Thanks," he mutters, voice breaking like he's still a youngling. "They said we'd be dead in two weeks."
"Listen to me and you might make three," I jest. My oversized fake-teeth awkwardly click when I speak - I managed to afford ones after my originals rotted from years of mine water and cheap sugarcheese. Between these chompers and the goggles I've saved up three years for, the others call me "Teeth", "Googles", "Pansy", "Wanker"...
The shaft-leader yells: "Quota's up another ten percent. Emperor wants more ore for His guns!"
Everyone groans, but what can we do? The servitor-hauler, me and this month's group of six other Forza-sniffers get into the rusty elevator and the arguing begins. As usual, I get the worst spot - alone, in the farthest corner with more rock than ore. Good. When time comes to negotiate promethium shares, the bigger miners always shout me down. Braga and Skull-Face, both built like void-haulers, pound their picks against the wall to drown me out. Good.
"Three shares for us, one for Goggles!" Braga laughs, showing off black gums.
I don't argue. Not worth the trouble. I just grab my pick and lamp and shuffle off to my section. They think I've gotten the worst by leaving me out without a partner, but I've buried enough "partners" who claimed my work as theirs. Besides, when I return with my quota filled, nobody can argue I didn't earn my keep.
"Off to stroke your little lasgun?" Skull-Face calls after me, and the others laugh.
Let them joke. They don't know what I really do out there in the darkness. They don't know I've memorized every tunnel, every weakness in the rock that could bring tons of stone down on your head if you hit wrong. They don't know I've learned bits of the Omnissiah's lessons that could maybe do something about that servitor that's oozing yellow out of holes it shouldn't, like the Ritual of Lectro-Reincarnation (hah, like they could ever even <span class="mu-i">pronounce</span> that). But I'd never spill it. More skills just means more unpaid work here in the Hole. But I'm great. I'm special. I can read. Add numbers. I'm special. Reminding myself of that keeps me going. I tell it to myself every time I need to endure. Every time I'm beaten up. Laughed at. Urinated on.
I am special.
