Inn Space: Chapter 2

Dursten Walks the Hallways of the Gran Nebulae

After a much more restful sleep, Dursten woke early—too early for someone who still wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be running a hotel or escaping from one.

“I’m not qualified to manage a casino and inn,” he muttered to himself, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m a scientist, for fuck’s sake.”

The thought rolled around for a moment before he added, “Maybe they’re just so short-staffed they’ll take anyone with credentials.”

He nodded to himself like that settled it—but deep down, it didn’t. Solving differential equations? Sure. Dealing with a teary-eyed waitress who got stiffed by a table of tourists? 

That was a whole different galaxy.

Still, breakfast beckoned. He threw on his clothes and made his way downstairs, stomach growling.

As Dursten descended into the lobby, he found himself giggling. “I wonder if that snotty desk clerk’s on shift again. Bet she’ll shit in her Kosmic Krispies when she finds out I’m the new Night Manager.”

He scanned the space, half-eager for her blue-eyed scowl—only to find the desk empty.

His disappointment didn’t last long. The lobby itself was jaw-dropping. A massive glass-covered atrium filled with trees, flora, and alien vegetation he barely recognized.

Above it all, three massive room wings stretched outward like the arms of a cosmic jellyfish, wrapping around the lobby and casino core. Struts and girders supported gas emitters pumping streams of color into the air—swirling greens, violets, and reds illuminated by floodlights.

The entire structure was embedded in an artificial nebula.

“Neat idea,” Dursten murmured. “Guess every room has a view.”

He was just about to head into the café when he spotted Buz’zee, waving from the far end of the lobby.

“You heading to the café?” Buz’zee asked as she approached.

“Yeah,” Dursten nodded. “Join me?”

“Absolutely. We’ve got a few things to talk about.”

Over breakfast, Buz’zee wasted no time.“Looks like I’m training you,” she sighed. “Numb’nuts Chris—traitor that he is—just jumped ship to the Quantum Inn. Didn’t even work out his notice.”

“Think he’ll be missed?” Dursten asked.

“Not the point. He’s been with us a while… played gigolo more than Night Manager lately. Now he’s dating Mel’lonza r’Ehuge. I bet he tries to lure her to the Quantum too. We’re already struggling to keep staff.”

“Quantum Inn…” Dursten started.

“Owned by Lehst’r,” 

Buz’zee cut him off. “Yep, that prick.”She sipped her coffee, clearly annoyed. “Anyway. Tonight, start by walking all the room wings. Get familiar. It’s easy to get lost. You’ll need to know the layout for calls—especially ‘Zeb Ho’ incidents.”

“Zeb? That stuff’s still around?”

“Worse than ever since the Coalition fell. The junk’s everywhere again. Girls get hooked, scam casino winners… then we get to deal with the fallout.”

Dursten nodded, taking it in.

“Once you’re done, meet me in the Dining Room and I’ll run you through the rest.”

Before heading off, Dursten asked, “Last night, before I went into the Honk’n’Holl’r, I stopped at the desk. One of the clerks was kinda curt. Tall, brunette, pale skin… very pretty blue eyes.”

Buz’zee burst into laughter. “Oh stars—you mean Que’enesh Ehba. She’s the General Manager.”

Dursten’s face flushed.

“I… I just wanted to see her reaction when she found out I was the new Night Manager.”

Buz’zee couldn’t stop giggling. She mouthed “later” as she walked off, still chuckling.

Dursten ate quietly, then set off to explore the room’s wings. He stopped at an FYI Pod to download the layout: nineteen floors per wing, split into three zones each—all identical in structure. It took him nearly two hours to walk it all, noting every service nook, stairwell, and tucked-away hiding spot.

“This place is huge,” he muttered. “You could disappear in here.”

Back in the café, he sat for a coffee. Moments later, Buz’zee tapped his shoulder and sat beside him.

“I knew it,” she said, sipping from her mug. “Mel’lonza gave me her notice. Wouldn’t even say where she’s going.”

“Maybe it’s just coincidence?”

“Nope. Wouldn’t look me in the eye. I offered her a raise. Nothing.”

“She’s really into Chris, huh?”

“Yeah. And she knows what I think of that pig dog.”

“I finished walking the floors,” Dursten said. “I’m ready for whatever’s next.”

The night was slow—no tours, no conventions. Perfect for training. Buz’zee walked him through every department: shut-down procedures, deposits, night audit routines.

The café closed first. Dursten helped prep receipts. Then the Dining Room, then the Honk’n’Holl’r Sal’oon, then the Black Hole Night Club.

The casino never closed—it had its own reporting protocols.

Just as the Dining Room lights dimmed, the pager buzzed:

“Bring four fresh coffees and an ashtray to the Dining Room.”

Dursten delivered the goods, only to be told, “Sit down. This is tradition. When the Dining Room shuts, we BS, drink coffee… and smoke. And don’t tell Que’enesh—we’re not supposed to smoke anywhere.”

“Got it,” Dursten chuckled.

“Oh—go grab Rosy Mi’Kwacken from the kitchen, will you? Tell her coffee’s ready.”

The kitchen was empty—except for a massive ladder in the middle of the cook line.

“Rosy?” Dursten called.

“Up here!” she shouted from above. “These vents aren’t pulling. So I’m wiping them down—because no one else will.”

Dursten grinned. “So, you’re saying this isn’t a Mickey Mouse hotel… but work here long enough and you’ll be effin’ Goofy?”

Rosy burst into laughter.

“A smart-ass, huh? I like it. Tell Mugs I’ll be in soon.”

“Mugs?”

“Yeah. Buz’zee. Always got a hot cup going somewhere. Nobody knows how she does it. Hence the nickname.”

Dursten returned, smiling. Rosy joined them moments later.

As the Bullshit Session hit full swing, Tolby wandered into the Dining Room, knapsack over shoulder. “Hey guys! Came to see if Mel’lonza wants a ride home. Got my scoot-jumper outta the shop. Beats paying for a hopper.”

Mel’lonza considered it. “Sure. Hopper hacks have been total dickheads lately.”

“Cool. I’m doubled by the loading dock. You can’t miss me.” Tolby waved at everyone—then walked straight into a table.

“Oops. Didn’t see that there.” He turned—back the same way he came in—and strolled out like nothing happened.

Just as Dursten stood to officially start his shift, a soft chime rang out from the wall comm unit near the Dining Room entrance.

“Security Alert: Scoot-jumper accident reported just outside hotel perimeter. Emergency crews en route.”

Buz’zee froze, coffee mug halfway to her lips. “I’ll bet you dollars to ding-dongs it’s Monkey-Nuts and his scoot-jumper,” she muttered.

Dursten blinked. “Monkey-Nuts?”

“Tolby,” she said, deadpan. “If anything’s happened to Mel’lonza… I’ll have those monkey nuts served with a side of bananas.”

The table went quiet. Even the ashtray seemed to stop smoking.

Dursten looked toward the exit where Mel’lonza had walked out, and a knot of worry settled in his gut.

✨ End Chapter Two. ✨