Wanted: Customer Service Agent

Multi-National corporation is hiring for customer service and collections.

Experience preferred but not required. EOE

That's all the information Careerbuilder provided. No phone number or email, just a site you could drop an application into.

I'm surprised they followed up with me at all.

I left my job at Sprint because the company changed to work from home operations. I'm one of the few who hates where they're living, thrives on seeing real people in a building every day. Offices have better heating, air conditioning, appliances, generally don't have homeless guys knocking on your door begging for stuff.

I applied to US Bank after I quit, but I couldn't take the high pressure micromanagement. When Covid hit, I tried to go back to Sprint, but of course they were full up by then. I was out of work for a long time.

When I came to interview for DOGOS, I thought it would be another work from home situation. It shocked me that they even required a face to face interview instead of using Zoom or a phone call.

Clad in a face mask, slacks, white shirt and tie, I got let in a run-of-the-mill corporate office building. Glass and steel exterior, blue-gray interiors. Antiseptic smells, the paint fresh enough to have a scent. I checked in at a designer reception desk, sat in a modern leather chair, filling out the standard load of newhire paperwork, work history and all that. I turned it in, staring at boring company stuff on their plasma TV while I waited for the interviewer.

A blonde in glasses, stylish Covid mask and white pantsuit led me to a small interview room. She offered me a seat at a mahogany desk, introduced herself as Tamra.

We began the interview. Her mask wrinkled as she examined the contents of my job packet. She typed something on her computer.

I guessed her age to be in the neighborhood of thirty, about a decade older than me. Not too bad looking. Unfortunately, I get nervous and freeze up around attractive women, making me even more uneasy about my chances of getting hired.

"If hired for the position, you will be paid twelve dollars an hour. We do not do raises, but you will have multiple bonus opportunities."

Although I thought this a little off the mark with current minimum wage requirements, I had barely scratched by with some of my temp jobs, so I didn't think it that bad. "That's...fair."

After a few of the standard job interview questions (like whether I felt I was more a leader or a follower) she asked, "How do you feel about wearing a uniform?"

A difficult tightrope, being bored of certain questions and still acting excited about the job. "No big deal. I've worn brown overalls and company polos before."

I thought I saw a smirk behind the mask. "Did you wash and take care of them?"

"Yeah?" Remembering my professionalism, I sat up straight, and, "Yes, ma'am."

"If hired for the job, would you be willing to sign a non-disclosure agreement and agree to the penalties if that contract is breached?"

I furrowed my brow. "Proprietary secrets? Uh, sure. My lips are sealed." Sprint had a bunch of new phones I couldn't talk about. I figured this to be the same deal.

"Would you be willing to do a job where ninety percent of your customers spoke a foreign language, if an interpreter were provided for you?"

So we're dealing with Spanish, maybe Chinese customers, I thought. What, am I going to say no now? "Certainly."

I hoped they would be damn good interpreters. My attempts at Spanish usually resulted in the customer asking for a Spanish rep.

"Would you be willing to relocate, upon being asked?"

I swallowed. I didn't really want to pack up and move away from everyone I knew, but I was desperate for work. "Are we working in Japan or something?"

Tamra didn't answer. I don't know if she took this as a yes or no, but she moved on. "Do you learn new software easily, or is it a struggle?"

That made me smile a little. "I'm kind of a geek. I like learning how to use new tech."

She raised an approving eyebrow, asked me a bland interview question about handling a job with minimal assistance. A sketchier question followed: "If a person decides to work in a foreign country, should they expect the company they work for to obey the labor laws of the United States?"

"It would be nice, but it's silly to expect that." The question gave me sudden pause. Why was she asking me that? Was this one of those fly by night operations that exploit loopholes in labor laws? "Wait. This position is in China, isn't it?"

Tamra didn't answer me. "Would you say you're physically active?"

Under the mask, I wasn't sure if she could see the puzzlement on my face. "I am. Not sure why that matters to a customer service job."

Here I at last got some information: "This position involves video conferencing."

"You might as well have asked me if I thought of myself as physically attractive." Realizing I'd just made an interviewing faux pas, I blurted, "No disrespect intended. I'm just saying, I like to take the stairs, but—"

"Relax. You're not winning any beauty contests. We're just looking for self-confidence."

I flushed red at what she just implied about my looks. "Excuse me?"

I let it pass. I'd applied for a lot of jobs before this, and all had turned me down or kept me in suspense for weeks, and I wanted a paycheck. She might not even be the boss.

"Let's, uh, continue..."

"Do you feel secure in your masculinity?"

My face really felt hot now. "And why does that matter?"

She looked indifferent. "I'll put down no."

"Wait, wait. Why do you need that information?"

The woman scribbled something else. "It's just a question."

"It's certainly an oddball one for a job interview. Are the customers really that insulting?"

I'm passive-aggressive. Can't help it. Plus, tired of my parents complaining that I didn't have a job, I didn't want to lose an opportunity due to some trivial comment. Dad would call me a sissy. "I didn't mean any offense, it's just unusual, that's all. I'm sure it's important." I coughed. "I'm secure."

"No you're not." She didn't laugh. That actually made it worse.

I asked her what kind of things I'd be making calls about, but she left the topic somewhat vague. No specific companies. "Multinational financial products. I suppose you'd call them credit cards. We also have openings with online orders and educational loans. HR will make the final determination based on your application and the results of this interview."

Tamra told me they had some insurance company that I'd never heard of, and the costs were super low. ABC Unlimited. The name sounded fake. Still, I figured if I had an income, I could buy what I needed outside the company.

My interviewer made me sign a bunch more paperwork: NDA, agreement to wear a uniform and it being taken out of my paycheck if damaged, relocation...Legalese she rushed through with the attitude that it was ordinary and on the level.

As much as all of this raised my psychological hackles, I had bills to pay, and didn't expect another stimulus check anytime in the immediate future. I'd been borrowing from mom and eating baloney sandwiches for weeks, so I'd do just about anything that allowed me to work at a desk.

"One more question, Mr. Finch: If offered the job, would you be willing to start right away?"

"Uh, yeah?...I mean, yes, ma'am."

She got up. "Okay. Follow me."

Tamra could probably see the indent on my mask where my mouth hung open. "What?"

The woman sighed. "Having second thoughts?"

"No, no!" I stammered, jumping to my feet. "I just couldn't believe it when you said it."

She took me down a gray hallway lined with locked wooden doors with gold plastic number plates. "Obviously we can't start you off today, but we can at least get you set up and trained. The first portion, unfortunately, involves some Covid procedures. A little inconvenient, I know, but every company is taking precautions."

Tamra unlocked a door with her badge, and I found myself looking at a big green rusty thing resembling a submarine. "Did you bring your second face mask like we told you?"

I shrugged. "Sure. But I still don't—"

She handed me a baggy. "Place it in here and put on your other one. Leave it in the receptacle with your clothes."

"What?"

Tamra opened the pressure hatch. "Take off your clothes and put them in the receptacle." Serious facial expression, like she'd asked me to do something ordinary as reviewing a FDCPA document.

I paled. "Excuse me?"

My interviewer pointed to a tall plastic bin. "Undress and put your clothes in there. Standard quarantine procedure."

Sure it is, I thought, backing away in horror. "Look, I don't know what this is. I just came in for a regular job, maybe something we can do from home on a laptop. I don't think—"

"Mr. Finch," the woman snapped. "Our equipment is very expensive and proprietary, our materials restricted to this building. You just signed paperwork to the effect that you consent to any and all Covid procedurals done on this location, including but not restricted to the sterilization of clothing and a period of quarantine for observation and testing."

I stared, praying for some sign that she might be joking. Instead I only got this expression that said I might not be the best fit for the job. "This some biomedical research thing like Quintiles, isn't it?"

The look in her eyes said no, but she answered, " A little."

I seriously considered walking out, but instead asked, "Am I getting paid for this?"

She rolled her eyes. "We wouldn't be doing this if we weren't prepared to give you paid training."

Training. It implied that this was unpaid. "That doesn't answer my question."

The look on her face said Now really.' "To be brutally honest, Mr. Finch, I think you're better suited for customer service than, say, a more exotic' line of work. You certainly wouldn't be my first choice for a G string tip. I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't necessary...now disrobe, please."

Why didn't I just walk out? Well, she was cute. Plus, Dad kept accusing me of sabotaging every job opportunity I came across.

Though not entirely comfortable with baring my skin, I found reassurance in the fact that the woman was a professional and not just after a free show. The submarine thing made me a little nervous - I'd seen horror movies involving similar plot devices, but the woman seemed deadpan about the whole concept, nothing diabolical in her expression. She didn't even crack a smile, as far as I could tell.

It's either this or factory work, I thought. That, or digging ditches. I bagged my old mask like she requested. "What should I do with my wallet?"

"It should be fine out here, Mr. Finch. We have cameras." She texted something on her phone.

Great, I thought. So I'm going to be naked on video. Is this how they enforce that NDA I just signed?

Hoping the answer to be no, I stripped to my cotton briefs, put my clothing in the bin. "Is...sterilization going to affect my phone any?"

She shook her head, gestured to my underwear. "I'm sorry, Mr. Finch. You're going to have to take that off too."

I was already blushing. I guess it would have been better if she actually liked me. "Seriously?"

"As a heart attack."

"I'm pretty sure there's a law against all this."

"You signed the paperwork."

Hoping she would budge a little, I argued, "You can say the same about a lot of illegal things."

"We'll discuss the legality of the situation during our tour. I'd explain it now, but it would be much easier to show you."

"What, like a legal document or something?"

She gave a slight nod. "...Something."

"If it's a gun, people work better when not under duress."

"I agree. It is not our intention to create a hostile work environment." She crossed her arms, glanced at my underwear impatiently.

"God, this is ridiculous." I did what she asked, letting it all hang out. If I had been honest with myself, I had been desperate enough to contemplate doing that for money anyway. "Please tell me I don't have to do video calls like this. I didn't come here to—"

The woman rolled her eyes, her facial expression telling me We've been over this before.'

"Right. I break mirrors. Got it."

Tamra gave me an appraising look, as if reassessing her previous opinion, but only scoffed, waving me into the submarine.

"For observation."

"Uh-huh." She waved a little metal sphere around me, clicked the button a few times.

"Wait, what is that?"

"Proprietary equipment, Mr. Finch. Get in the tank."

"Like a germ scanner or something?"

"Something like that."

I scowled at her. "Something! Did you just take my picture?"

"It's a scan, Mr. Finch. As stated previously, you are not centerfold material." She put it back in her pocket.

I secretly hoped she was wrong. "...What about the mask?" One side effect of the Pandemic. You got so used to wearing the damn things that you forgot they were on. Mostly.

"Keep it on. We don't anyone to get sick."

A double standard, but I figured the woman couldn't be reasoned with. "Oh...kay."

She gestured for me to climb in, but I froze at the hatch. "You must think I'm an idiot."

I thought I saw her deadpan exterior crack a little. "And why is that, Mr. Finch?"

"It just seems to me like stripping naked and getting locked inside that thing is a bad idea, that's all. What you got planned next, chaining me to a wall and making me saw my own leg off to escape?"

Tamra crossed her arms indignantly. "Mr. Finch, the medical treatment for such an injury would be cost prohibitive to our organization, and deprive us of the quality customer service you presumably can provide." She nodded to the hatch. "Wait for your interviewer in there."

I stepped into a structure with rusty steel bulkheads bearing old dripping pipes and weathered ventilation ductwork. Someone had cranked the AC to an uncomfortable level, raising goosepimples on my bare flesh. No sound, save for the blower and dripping water. Sportscenter, muted, with closed captioning, showed on a plasma TV bolted to a wall.

A ceiling to floor window along a bulkhead looked into a secondary compartment, identical to my own.

I winced at the smell: Faint vomit, old cheese, and something like skunk...maybe a hint of Pepperidge Farm goldfish crackers.

The big submarine door clanked shut behind me, its wheel turning to lock me in.

No toilet, no sink, no food. I sincerely hoped nobody wanted me to stay in this thing long term.

I paced the floor nervously, fearing nightmare scenarios of poison gas, or possibly drowning in gallons of water. Dirty gray chevron pattern plating, like the running board of a truck, brushed the soles of my feet.

Ten minutes passed. I plopped down, bare assed, on a padded bench, wondering if anyone sanitized its surfaces recently.

Another ten minutes went by. I dozed.

A submarine door in the other compartment clanked open, startling me awake.

When I saw what had entered, I screamed, retreating to the back corner.

A spotty green, bald creature with four arms and tusks. It scoffed, speaking in a deep female voice. "Well hello to you too!"

The creature leaned against the window. "Don't worry..." She rapped the glass with her third hand. "You'll be safe behind this."

I took a second look. Slender body, clad in nothing but a leather harness. Flat chested, but...gorgeous feminine legs.

I forced myself to focus on her face. Widely spaced eyes, very slight lips, she had nostrils, but no real nose to speak of, just a low bump.

I'm addicted to scifi movies, so I couldn't help but smile when we made eye contact. "You...can talk?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. I can also do job interviews."

In two of her hands, she carried a clipboard and a pen. She readied these items as she seated herself on a pad facing mine.

"What...are you?"

"My name's Sola. I'm a Thark. From the planet Barsoom. Did you want a job, or are you just going to stare and ask rude questions? Because that's not proper interviewing technique."

I blushed. "I'm sorry, ma'am. It's just...I've never interviews with an alien before."

"Just pretend this is a normal job interview with a human being. You have had job interviews, I take it?"

"Yes, ma'am. Just not in the nude."

"Just relax and focus on the interview questions. Pretend like you're wearing clothing." She asked me another series of standard job interview questions.

An erection slowly swelled below my waist as I admired her legs. I pretended not to be staring. "I thought Tamra said I was already hired."

Sola's gaze narrowed. "And we can easily unhire you. I need answers to a few more questions to make certain you're a good fit for the company."

I stripped naked for you, I thought. Shouldn't that be enough? But then I supposed all of this could have been a psychological readiness test of some sort. "Sorry, I...I'm just not used to the way you do things around here."

I self consciously crossed my wrists over my crotch, but it concealed nothing. "I, uh, there are worse things I could be doing with my time..."

The creature cut me off before I could say something about enjoying her company, asking more bland personality test type stuff, questions about my problem solving and leadership skills.

My eyes kept tracing the curves of her body, my penis throbbing straighter and straighter. I tried to act normal.

"If faced by a justifiable physical threat, do you feel confident in your ability to defend yourself?"

I reacted to the question like a cold shower. "What?"

Sola scowled, scratched out a note. "Sorry, never mind."

"That tough in the workplace?"

"That was part of our...security questionnaire."

I thought about the gun. "Is this...An assassin's guild?"

She burst out laughing. "You watch too many movies. Next question: How do you feel about surgical implants?"

"Um, not sure. I...don't really like the idea of Big Brother watching me, if that's what you mean."

Sola made a note. "Are you doing anything for the rest of the day?"

I swallowed. I actually did have things I wanted to do, but decided I'd better put them on the back burner. "No? Why? Training?...Or does the Covid test take that long?"

"Yes."

Not a real clear answer. Still, if I said no, I'd have no job. "Oh...kay. I'm...open."

"Great. What do your plans look like for the rest of this week?"

I got the job, I thought. Guess I have to commit, reasonable or not. "Open."

"All day for seven days?"

"You're kidding."

"It's very extensive training."

Okay, so...desperate for employment. And naked, locked in. With a cute, near naked alien. "Fine. Okay."

More notation. "Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?"

I'd been staring again. My penis now stood at a perfect ninety degree angle. "What?"

Sola frowned, scratched a line through the question. "Correction: Do you believe I'm an extraterrestrial?"

"Oh yeah!"

She glanced between my legs. "Why is your penis doing that?"

Heat rushed to my face. "That...doesn't sound like a standard interview question."

The creature crossed two of her arms. "I just thought you could demonstrate how you resolve difficult or uncomfortable situations...Unless that's just talk..."

It felt like the temperature had increased ten degrees. "It's not...Look, it does that sometimes. I can't help it."

"That's not what I asked."

"I'm...excited, okay?"

Sola raised an eyebrow ridge. "You must really like the idea of working here."

I swallowed. "You...can say that! You've...never seen that happen before?"

"Never."

"Have you interviewed...men...like this before?"

"A few, yes. From time to time, their penis will move during conversation, but yours..."

I wanted to say that she had a fine set of legs and liked how the rest of her body looked, but felt unclear about her level of interest. "What can I say? I...Like...the idea of working here."

She smirked, furiously scribbling notes.

I heard a knock on the outside of the tank, then a gruff male voice. "He's clean. I followed your order to hold your clothing until the test came back, but we kinda incinerated the other stuff."

I bolted to my feet. "You did what!"

A nervous chuckle came from the other side of the door. "Relax! We got you a uniform! And your wallet, keys and cell phone (as outdated as it may be)!"

"Well gee thanks!" I groaned. "Will underwear be included with this uniform?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean by sort of!"

The male voice just laughed.

I angrily rushed for the wheel that opened the pressure hatch.

"Leave the clothes by the door," Ibira called. "He's trying to come out."

The male giggled. "That could be interpreted several different ways."

I really wanted to choke the guy now. I turned the wheel.

"Victor, I'd clear out if you don't want an eyeful."

The wheel clanked to the unlocked position. I pushed the hatch open.

"Good Lord! I'm going! I'm going!"

A little man in a Hawaiian shirt and khakis rushed to the security door. Before I could throttle him, he'd made it outside in the hallway.

In the back of my mind, I thought, that definitely falls under EOE requirements.

The other hatch clanked open. Out stepped the green creature.

Face to face at last. Breathing the same air...And I still got horny just looking at her.

"Hi," I stammered, offering a handshake.

She shook it, but at the same time she took a syringe out of a little first aid box, giving me a shot in the arm with her other two hands. "Can't be too careful about human diseases."

I looked at the floor and frowned. Beneath my wallet, keys and cell phone lay a fat silver unlabeled package, similar in shape to ones used in Amazon clothing orders, and next to it, something greatly resembling Mary Jane flats. "Where are my shoes?"

Sola put two hands on her hips. "They've been incinerated. Didn't you hear him say that?"

"These are girl shoes."

She examined the heel. "I understand human females have much smaller feet."

I gawked at her. "Seriously? I'm supposed to wear that?"

"Earthlings have policies about not walking around in their establishments barefoot." The creature gestured to her three toed feet. "I'm exempt due to the unusual shape, but management may take an issue with yours...Are you going to attend orientation in the nude?"

I gulped, hurriedly opening the gray package.

It got worse. Inside, instead of finding a brown jumpsuit, or jumpsuit of any color for that matter, I discovered a dress.

Shiny black PVC, puff sleeves, ruffled skirt, big swirling D logo across the chest. "Is this some kind of practical joke?"

Sola's face did not reflect any sort of amusement. "No, that's the required company uniform, fitting with the client's standards of gender equality. The paperwork states that you have no objections to uniforms."

"Yeah, but I never—"

"It also states that you are secure in your masculinity. Being as you're a human, management might take issue with you walking around the building nude."

The outfit didn't expose my chest in a womanly way, or give the illusion of boobs, making it a little more masculine than it could have been. The skirt, however...disconcertingly short, stopping at mid-thigh. Secure in my masculinity! I thought with no small amount of annoyance.

"Please explain the gender equality thing to me. I'm dying to know why this is legal."

"It's sexist for women and women only to be required to wear that style of uniform. Since our client insists that it be worn, for the purposes of branding, we went with the most restrictive policy and required everyone to have it, male and female alike."

"This is bullshit! I never agreed to crossdressing , and this is not a damn uniform!"

Sola glanced at my erection. "For someone who does not like the idea of wearing dresses, you seem to be getting awfully excited. Your penis is growing very straight."

It wasn't like I had anything else to wear...And she wasn't wrong. Plus, thoughts of those green legs kept coming to mind.

Heat rushed to my ears and face as I slipped into the leathery uniform.'

Someone had gotten my exact measurements. A very snug but comfortable fit. Cool, silky smooth material. Honestly, it did make me a little horny.

"I don't see you wearing one of these."

"Since they don't make them with four sleeves, I am not required to do so, as long as I wear the company logo." She pointed to the emblem on the center of her harness.

Sola cleared her throat, casing me an expectant look. "I believe you are supposed to wear something under your skirt."

"Yeah..." Instead of briefs, or even panties, I found white stockings and a sort of diaper in the package. "That's... Not underwear."

"Correct. It extracts water from your waste, and creates fertilizer pucks for our indoor farm. Much more environmentally friendly than a water based flush toilet."

"So it's actually a diaper."

"Essentially. You humans have very inefficient bladder configurations, and this job does not provide fifteen minute toilet breaks."

"So you want me to use it at some point. Won't it...smell bad afterwards?"

"Not really. It's an advanced device. You will also have access to cleaning and personal health supplies." She cleared her throat. "Being as the company doesn't issue underclothes..."

I frowned at the thing, refusing to wear it, but also not throwing it on the floor.

"I think you like this idea more than you admit. Your penis is raising the front of your skirt."

Blushing, I pulled it on. "Wait, you have a farm? Why?"

"Sustainability project. We are an environmentally conscientious corporation. Now, stockings are optional, but since you don't have any socks, you should wear them to keep the shoes clean."

Well, what's one more humiliation? Hoping she'd appreciate how I looked, I completed the ensemble, stuffed my wallet and other things in my dress pockets ( the ones at the waist allowed for that) and reluctantly followed the alien to the door.

My embarrassment deepened with every creak of my bodice, and swish of my skirt, as I trailed Sola down the hallway. Despite the cool dress material, the shame caused a lot of heat to rush to my face and upper body. Regardless of the temperature, I'd always find the uniform a little too warm for comfort.

"You accepted the uniform more quickly than others have." I appreciate that." She summoned an elevator. "I have heard of an applicant who tried to go to class nude. They made him wear a gorilla costume for the first class, then sent him packing."

The comment made me hot, from anger or sexual frustration, I don't know. If I did know, this story probably would have ended at the elevator.

We came out in a concrete sub basement. More security locked wooden doors. A big metal thing, like a water tower with legs, stood in the center, sweating condensation. "Our client believes in preparing for all contingencies. This is the main floor. You will eat, sleep and do work on level."

"What! Sleep?" I didn't dare suggest we share a bed, but definitely open to it. A visible bulge developed in the front of my diaper. "I...guess I can live with that..."

I tugged on my mask. "Is it okay if I take this off? The rubber band is hurting my ears."

The creature rolled her eyes. "You're clear, aren't you? Not sick or anything?"

"Yeah?"

Sola shrugged.

"It's not going to be like War of the Worlds, where I just breathe on you and you die or something, is it?"

"No, that's the real purpose behind the screening."

I removed the mask.

A couple cute African American girls, both clad in uniforms identical to mine, came strolling up the hallway in our direction, chattering away. Both bore loaded binders in their arms, manuals, I guessed. Unlike myself, they had the figure for those uniforms.

Upon seeing me, one elbowed the other and muttered, causing her companion to snort in amusement, but when we made eye contact, the face I got wasn't 'Hey, Sola got the new guy to wear a dress,' but rather Oh boy, here comes another one.' She rolled her eyes at me, walking on.

I looked back, wondering if the girl would appreciate a crossdressing male coworker, but Sola cleared her throat, forcing my attention away from them.

She showed me around.

Like Google, the campus offered a full-service cafeteria, daycare center, reading room and coffee shop.

They had actual bedrooms, one for men, one for ladies.

We looked into the men's. Twelve bunk beds, five occupied. Four guys passed out asleep. Regular clothing, shorts, pajamas.

"We have more beds elsewhere in the facility. In case you're wondering, they all work third shift."

I tugged on my skirt. "They're not wearing these."

"I wouldn't worry about it."

"What do you think about these...uniforms?"

She shrugged. "They're kinda cute. Depends on who's wearing them. It'd be cuter if the uniforms were harnesses like mine."

Still not getting a clear signal from her.

A laundry room stood between the cafeteria and a little coffee shop/reading room. Weirdest washing machines I'd ever seen in my life. No coin slots, no change machines, no driers.

Catching my confused look, she popped the door on the nearest one. "Combination washer-driers. Cleans your clothing with static electricity, UV rays, blowers, powders and special chemicals. No water usage."

I stared with my mouth hanging open. "Wow."

The place also had a mini-hospital. Sola said the hospital ensured my insurance costs would be super low, that I should visit them instead of my primary care physician.

"Are the people there even certified?"

The female nodded.

I didn't believe it for a moment. Putting on a dress was one thing, bloodletting by leeches something else entirely. "That's...okay. I've...got something else on the Marketplace." A lie, but I could always get insured later.

A staircase led to a lower level. More offices, a executive crew quarters, storage areas.

Sola swiped her badge at a secured turnstile, showing me down a concrete tunnel that smelled damp and earthen. "You'll be taking your fertilizer pucks down here. We have a composting station and a place to wash your hands. The water you can drain with hoses in the bathroom."

There, through a pneumatically sealed door at the end of the tunnel, the facility went a tad overboard with the whole 'sustainability' concept. A lush garden, populated with everything from tomatoes to cabbage.

No equivocation about her mention of a farm. Although underground, I spotted enough crop to feed an army. They even had small trees.

Then, as Sola took me around plots of corn, I saw it. I couldn't believe my eyes.

A gray octopus looking thing. On land.

Eight eyes like a spider, its suckered tentacles busy with gardening tasks.

I pointed, fumbling for words.

"Yes, and that's only the tip of the iceberg."

Without warning, Sola shoved me into a wall. Her third hand drew a knife from a scabbard on her harness, pressing it to my neck. "It's not the job, is it?"

I paled. "What?"

"You lied. I saw how hard you got when you stared at my legs."

I swallowed. "I'm sorry! Like I said, I couldn't help it!"

The green creature growled. Her blade bit into my skin, drawing blood.