"And what about my privacy?" She looked angrily at the woman in the white lab coat and tried to stand tall, which was hard at one meter and fifty-five centimeters of height.

  "Well, pretty certainly your contract says that you'll work closely together with an operator", the woman replied.

  "But not with a voice in my head!" She protested.

  "Can't get much closer than that, can it? But see the good side little one, whenever you need help, you just need to think of it and you'll get help. You'll never be alone," the woman said in an almost motherly tone.

  She took a deep breath. Now she really wished she still had fangs or claws, she so wanted to bite and scratch the ignorant woman. Also, little one! Just because of her height? Hissing also didn't seem fitting anymore, even if it felt appropriate right now.

  The woman didn't wait for her response though, put a hand at her upper back to push her towards the door, "Anyway, you're ready for work. The others are already waiting outside."

  The door opened in front of her and a bit unwilling she stepped out into the corridor, where Operator Lopez and the other two drones were waiting. As far as she could see, none of them had gotten stars to accompany their name badges.

  "Oh, a three star puppet!" Operator Lopez exclaimed and clapped his hands, "Seems I get to quit early today. Now you can take over."

  She shook her head a bit, confused, "I'm sorry?"

  "Simple, you don't need anyone anymore to tell you what to do. So I can spend the afternoon in the cafeteria while you get used to being a star puppet", Operator Lopez explained.

  "A star puppet?" she asked.

  "Three stars even. Premium puppet. You'll do fine. Just listen in to what your operator tells you, and do what they say," Operator Lopez said in both a friendly and happy manner, despite the choice of words.

  She sighed and thoughts appeared in her mind, which became words, "He's right. We can take over now. Wish him a good afternoon and tell the other two to follow you."

  "Eh", she stammered, "I'm supposed to wish you a good afternoon, Operator Lopez?"

  Then she shouted in alarm, "Wait, you can read my thoughts?" which earned her surprised looks and she clarified, "Not you. Them. The voice," and pointed to her head.

  Operator Lopez chuckled, "I see you're right on track. Good luck at work!" He rose a hand almost like a salute, turned around and walked down the corridor with a light bounce in his steps.

  "I cannot read your thoughts, but if you listen intently to someone or speak out loud it's almost the same as if you talk to me in your thoughts," the voice in her head informed her.

  She nodded and James Thirteen asked, "Vivian, what's going on with you?"

  "Got a voice in my head. Apparently they can also overhear what I'm saying, probably what you tell me too. This, mind link stuff," she tried to explain.

  "Ah", James replied, "didn't work for me at all."

  "Neither for me", Merle chimed in.

  "Turn left and walk down the corridor. I'll lead you to your quarters. Tell the other two to follow", Operator Andersen instructed her with thoughts which were not her own.

  Now both looked at her and she asked, "What?"

  "You seemed to listen to something", James told her.

  "Yeah, got instructions. Our quarters are this way", she pointed to her left, "and you two are supposed to follow me there."

  "Seems pretty cool, this mind link thing", Merle remarked.

  "Pretty shitty you mean. I can't say, hear or think something which they don't know the very moment", she protested.

  "But you know where the quarters are while we have no clue," James clarified.

  "Only know 'this way'," she pointed left again, "No idea any further."

  "Well, then let's get going", James suggested and they started to walk down the corridor.

  "Third door on the right, room number eleven," the voice in her head supplied.

  She counted the doors and stopped at the third. A big, dark red number eleven was painted on the wall besides the door. "Eleven. So this one, it seems", she explained and put her hand on the sensor pad besides the door, which actually opened with a slight hiss and slid into the wall. A fairly small room with four bunk beds, two above each other on each side of the room. A small table with four chairs was in the center and four lockers lined the back wall. A single light panel in the ceiling illuminated the room. The light felt cold, but not unpleasant to her, it made details easy to see.

  "Guess this is our room now," she said and walked up to the table to look over the room once more, James and Merle followed her into the room.

  The walls had a light gray plastic coating to hide the metal and the ceiling was about the same color, while the floor had a darker shade of gray. Maybe so that dirt didn't show so easily? The table top was a dark green, likely plastic of some sort while the table legs were metal with a chrome like finish. She wasn't sure what she had expected as room for drones in a mining outpost, but it seemed adequate, just a bit boring and rather impersonal. That was something they could change though.

  The ceiling in here was notably lower than out in the corridor, and everything seemed to be sized for their smaller stature. With mild annoyance, she remembered what the woman in the lab coat had told her, "Right. We are small so that we don't take up so much space. Oh joy of being a drone."

  "Doesn't really matter much Vivian as long as we are among ourselves. We could all be like ten centimeters tall and never notice without a comparison," James said.

  She had to admit, James had point. If it hadn't been for the two humans, they'd hardly have noticed. She certainly had not noticed until then.

  "So, who wants to sleep up? Or down?" Merle asked.

  James was quick to answer, "Up. I like to be away from the floor while sleeping. Makes me feel safer. Don't ask why please."

  She tried to make up her mind, "I think I'll sleep down. I don't want to climb up there if I'm all tired after work." She smiled at Merle, "So you're free to chose."

  "I think I'll sleep down too. Right or left side?" Merle asked.

  Before any of them could reply, the door opened with a light hiss and revealed a sort of robot, a round metal pillar on wheels with two arms to handle objects. No lenses to see, no microphone or speaker. With a notable hum and whine of electric engines the robot rolled into the room and towards the lockers. It attached a sticker to the leftmost locker, "James Thirteen", then a sticker to the adjacent one to the right, "Vivian Four" and another sticker to the next one, "Merle Two."

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  "Thank you for letting us choose our own lockers?" she tried, just to be ignored as the robot rolled out of the room and the door closed behind it. Yet before any of them could comment further, the door opened again and the robot came in with a bundle of clothes on its arms which it deposited on the floor in front of the leftmost locker. Two more times and each of their lockers had been delivered a bundle of clothes, and the robot seemed gone for good.

  Merle walked over and checked the rightmost bundle, lifted up an overall much like the one they were wearing right now. "Seems to be for me, got a sticker with my name on it."

  "So we got some clothes to change?" she walked to the bundle in the middle and went through the pile of clothes which were supposedly hers. At least they had tags with her name. Two more overalls, two pairs of socks and four slips. Three towels, a pair of flip-flops and a second pair of boots like the ones she was wearing right now. With so few clothes to change, how often would they get a chance to wash their clothes?

  She opened the locker with her name tag and sorted the clothes, towels and footwear into it. Not that the locker was particularly big, but the clothes still looked very forlorn in it. At least they had some clothes to change now.

  "How are you doing?", it was the voice in her head again.

  "Just got some more clothes. How can we wash them if they get dirty?", she thought back.

  "Once a week you put all your dirty clothes into a bag, put a tag with your name on it, and a robot will collect the bags. A day or two later you'll get them back, washed, patched or new ones if they are beyond repair."

  "But there are not enough clothes to change for a week!" she protested in thoughts.

  "You'll have to manage. Actually I'm contacting you to show you the way to the food distribution", Operator Andersen's presence sent thoughts.

  "I still don't like the idea I have to wear sweaty clothes the next day again. But alright. Where to?"

  "Right hand side once you leave the room, down the corridor, next corridor right hand side again. Easy to find," she was informed.

  "Got it", she confirmed in thoughts, "Are we supposed to go there now?"

  "Yes please", the voice in her head affirmed.

  She returned her focus to the world outside and noticed the other two were staring at her again. She sighed, "Guess you already know. Got news. Clothes must last a week, rather a week and two days, washing service will collect them once a week and it can take two days to get them back. Other news, we get food or something, and I was told the way there. We're supposed to go now."

  Merle grinned, "It's really quite handy how you get to know all this."

  She grimaced, "Handy for you, cause you have no one snooping around in your head for your intimate thoughts."

  "Don't be so sour Vivian," James chimed in, "You've got the direct connection. We can't even call someone for help."

  "It still feels very intrusive," she commented and opened the door, "To the right, the operator said, and then next corridor right hand side again."

  They didn't have to walk very far, just a few dozen meters and the branching corridor opened into a fairly large room which had to be the food distribution center.

  The walls were coated with the meanwhile well know light gray plastic finish, the ceiling the same color and the floor a darker shade of gray. Tables much like the one in their room, just larger with six chairs at each and she counted a dozen tables, arranged in four rows of three tables each. Also, like in their room, the ceiling here was lower than in the corridor. A room suitable for drones but not 'grown up' humans, while the corridors were high enough for everyone to stand comfortably. While not directly negative, she still didn't like the hint of segregation in this arrangement.

  Also it seemed the mining company really tried to standardize everything, colors, furniture and to her dismay also their workers.

  Not a lot of drones in the room, four at one table, five at another and one lonely one at a table a bit farther away. All the same stature, same height, the only easy indicators to tell them apart from a distance were skin and hair color, and to some extend the hair style. No one had long hair, though. Was long hair not allowed in this workplace? She had not even thought to ask about that in the contract negotiations, just assumed long hair would be fine.

  She sighed again as she looked over them. They were all just like, differently styled, differently colored puppets of the same make and she was one of them now. Puppet, she repeated the word in thoughts. She had hated the word when Operator Lopez had used it, and she still hated it, but it seemed fitting nevertheless.

  At the far wall installations which reminded her of vending machines were lined up. Above the one group there was a neon sign reading "Food" the the other one labeled "Drink." Left of the two groups there was an opening in the wall with a label, "Dirty Dishes" and an arrow downwards, right of the vending machines a table bearing a stack of tablets and some containers which she assumed to hold silverware.

  The presence in her head remained silent. Probably they were expected to to find their way alone, "No instructions. Guess we are free to find out what there is to eat and drink."

  "Looks like a fairly standard cafeteria setup to me," James declared and made his way to the table with the stack of tablets to pick one and she followed, Merle trailing them.

  Fetching a tablet was simple, but to her confusion the only silverware available were spoons. Maybe that made it easier, she had no been used to eat with knife and fork for years, but it gave her doubts in the sort of food to expect.

  James was already at one of the vending machines for food and she walked to the next one besides him. The expected controls to chose from, well, any sort of option just didn't exist. There was just one red glowing button with traces of a label, unreadable after a million fingers had pressed the button.

  Easy enough, she decided and pressed the worn out plastic square. No nukes launched, no alarm blared, the machine hummed and rattled for a while, then a hatch opened and a steaming bowl slid out. Porridge? It smelled a bit like cinnamon and was pale enough to count as porridge. She had not eaten porridge since years, but it was probably something their drone bodies could digest well, so she took the bowl and lifted it onto her tablet. A quick peek asides told that James had received a similar bowl, but she couldn't make out if the contents were any different from what she had gotten.

  The "Drink" section offered about the same amount of choice. One red button to press, and a plastic cup filled with plain water to receive. She looked around to see how James and Merle were doing and noticed James was already heading for one of the unoccupied tables while Merle was still at one of the food vending machines. She decided to follow James to the table, and took seat on the opposite site to face him, "It seems they like to standardize everything. The wall paint, floor coverings, the tables, the food and even us."

  "Keeps expenditures low and profits high," James declared and lifted a spoonful of steaming porridge from his bowl to blow it carefully. Merle took seat at her side, "Bon appetite you two."

  She smiled at Merle and nodded, "Thanks. Enjoy your meal," and followed James' example. The porridge tasted terribly bland. A little sweet, that was all taste she got from it. The only proper sensation was the smell of cinnamon which helped a bit to make the experience not quite as disappointing. "You both got cinnamon flavor too?"

  Both nodded, and James confirmed, "Yep, cinnamon too."

  She ate another spoonful when the presence in her mind became stronger and foreign thoughts formed words, "Tomorrow your training as miners will start. You three will form a team. You as the one with mind link ability will act as foreman and relay orders, in urgent cases you'll give orders on your own. Keep eating but inform the other two."

  "If I just tell them I'll be foreman they will think I suffer from hubris", she tried to express in thoughts.

  "I'm quite sure they will understand, if not, someone will come to instruct them in person. It's just simpler this way. Please just try. I'll listen in and help out if something goes the wrong way," Operator Andersen assured her.

  "Alright", she thought a confirmation.

  Her attention turned outward again and she noticed she still held the spoon right in front of her mouth, apparently she had frozen up during the mental conversation. The other two seemed to have noticed and looked expectantly at her. James was the first to speak up, "Got news?"

  She nodded but decided to eat the spoonful of porridge anyway first, chewed and swallowed.

  "Yeah. The simple part is we'll work together as a team and tomorrow some sort of training is supposed to start. Didn't get any details, just training as miners. The annoying part is that I'm supposed to act as foreman cause I have the mind link," she relayed the message.

  "Makes sense," James replied and Merle nodded as well.

  "That part does, but apparently I'm also supposed to give orders on my own if the situation is urgent. In my former life I was all but a person to give orders, I had to follow orders," she tried to explain.

  "You'll do fine", words formed in her mind and she showed a slightly pained smile.

  Merle shrugged, "If a situation is urgent there won't be time to discuss who takes the lead. There isn't any other way really. Even if you must make the first decision on your own, you'll still be the first one to receive real instructions."

  She nodded, "I still feel stupid to declare myself foreman. I could just have made up this and you'd never know."

  Now James laughed, "Nah, Vivian, it's pretty obvious each time you receive a message. You turn totally absent. Also you said they can overhear what you say, so if this wasn't their order, they would have you on the hook right now."

  She showed another forced smile, "Good. Or bad. But that's the state of things as much as I got to know."

  A more genuine smile followed, "Actually I'm curious about the miner training. Been a long time that I had a proper job."

  Merle gave her a wink, "As foreman you'll steer the huge excavator and we'll guide you parking it after work."

  "Merle, I was a dancer at a night club. I don't know shit about tech," she tried to correct this idea.

  "Oh really? How about some private dance once we are back in our room?" James seemed serious.

  "With this body?" She shook her head lightly.

  "Might be worth a try," James kept a straight face.

  She sighed, "Right. I'll be foreman, steer the excavator and after work dance for you two."