It can get tiring being a bouncer here at the Spaceport Lounge but the hours weren’t bad. Just the mornings. Every customer is in on a different sleep schedule so you could have drunks and druggies fighting at the bar any time of day or night, or whatever you called it a hundred light-years from Earth.

Slade stepped over the knocked-out bodies of the miners and headed back to his pad to sleep until the next shift.

“Oh no,” he said, seeing the stocky form of his boss standing at his door.

“I got a better job for ya,” the old man said.

“I need my sleep,” I grouched.

“It’s good money, big guy,” he said.

“I’m listening.”