Wilson Port, Tewanta - 3305-07-13 00:17 AM, Galactic Standard Time
George walked home from his job in the docking area of Wilson Port. He'd been working the late shift, was tired, and was looking forward to his food cartridge and perhaps a beer at his apartment. Apartment was probably too grandiose a term for where he lived. Capsule suited it better. It was just short of twenty cubic meters in size, with a small bunk, a toilet/shower area, and a tiny desk and food preparation station. It was situated toward the center of the station where the gravity effect of the stations spin was low. That made it cheap though and he was managing to save a fair portion of his wages. The long term goal was to move to an Alliance colony somewhere: make a fresh start & live a free man. Not that life on Wilson Port was bad. Citizens enjoyed a decent standard of living and crime was low. However, The Order could be a bit stuffy and overly focused on service to the government. New ideas were not looked upon favorably and alternative lifestyles were frowned upon.
George always took the long way home. The direct route between the docks and his "apartment" was barely five minutes walk. But that route stayed near the core of the station. George liked to take a detour outwards towards the edge where he could feel a little load on his bones. That way also took him past various shops, which was handy normally, though at this time they were all closed. His longer walk normally took him about twenty minutes.
He was a few minutes from home, when he turned into a long, and seldom used, access corridor. In his three years working in the station he had never met anyone while walking down it. He liked to think of it as his own little secret passageway, though it wasn't very well hidden. It was just that nobody bothered to look for it. This passage ran parallel to the axis and was straight for about 150 meters. At the end was a holosign displaying "inspirational messages", normally in a bold white typeface on a plain black background. Currently, he could make out:
CAKE LEADS TO SLOTH
George walked along the corridor, his mag-boots clunking on the metal floor. The sign changed its text smoothly. Now it read:
CAKE IS NOT NUTRITIOUS FOOD
It looks like The Order is kicking off another public health campaign, thought George. That didn't bother him, though, as he lived frugally anyway. However, the thought of having a slice of cake now, was appealing. He walked on.
CAKE IS A LIE
They really were serious about it this time, thought George. He frowned a little. It was probably some young officer being overly zealous in interpreting his orders. He hoped that things wouldn't get too intrusive. That just set people on edge and didn't help anyone. Perhaps he should have that beer tonight after all, before it was flagged as a prohibited item.
He was about four meters from the end of the passage where it turned a corner to an access ladder to the level where his home was, when the sign glitched. The stark black background was replaced by a two-by-two grid of pale pink and yellow squares and the text changed to a friendly red typeface. It read:
Tastes so good!
Then as suddenly as it appeared it switched back to the previous message. George stared at the holosign for a few seconds. Did he imagine it? Was the sign hacked? Whatever had happened, it was best for him to be home in his apartment. He was definitely going to have that beer.