"Good morning Nicholas Meyers, this is your station administrator, Rutherford Dietrich, with your wake-up call."
Nick squinted through drowsy eyes at the source of his interrupted sleep on the nearby nightstand. His silver alarm clock displayed "7:00 am" in blue digital numbering. Above it, a hologram displayed the image of a man with a black mustache giving him a confident grin that reflected his natural bravado.
"Wake up Nicholas; I hope you've marked your calendar, because today is that day again...Halloween! That's right, the station's most popular holiday since human acceptance into the Federation is here! Be sure to have your bowls of candy ready for those spooky little trick-or-treaters today! And of course, we here at the Alpha Draconis Residential Station encourage you to get into the Halloween spirit by dressing up yourself! How about it Nicholas, maybe one of the classics this year? Ghost, vampire, pirate? Wake up and get into the Halloween spirit, Nicholas! Wake up now, Nicholas!"
Nicholas had long since wrapped his own pillow snuggly around his ears, desperately trying to drown out the boisterous drivel of the automated voice of the station administrator By the time that audible clear-cut voice was urging him to wake up repeatedly he had reached his hand over to tiredly fumble for the off switch.
"Shut up, shut up, I'm waking up," Nick mumbled incoherently as Dietrich's voice noisily continued to urge him out of his slumber.
With one final slap down onto the alarm clock, the voice ceased its prating and the hologram projection of the man's face disappeared all at once. Nick threw down his pillow and let out a ragged sigh that expressed his lament as having to wake up; especially waking up to the clamorous voice of the renowned hotel tycoon, no less.
The guy already owned half the residential stations in the Milky Way Galaxy; why the hell did he have to inflate his own ego more by installing his own smug self into the alarm clocks?!
Nick shook his head and sat himself up on the bed, rubbing his weary muscles and smoothing out his curly brown hair.
He looked up at the plain gray ceiling of his apartment. "Lights," Nick pronounced loudly to the ceiling.
With that, the lights in his apartment flickered on and the shutters that concealed his windows drew open audibly. The metal shutter seal on his window had opened to reveal the infinite, majestic void of outer space, along with the white dwarf star, Alpha Draconis, not far off in the distance.
Nick slowly drew himself up from the bed, being sure not to put too much pressure on his left leg. He cursed to himself as throbbing pressure spiked in his calve as soon as he had stood himself up.
Damn it, why had the aches been showing up again lately? Doctor Civilin had said that the therapy would have eased most of this pain by now. It had been over three years since the accident had happened. Surely the physical therapy of one of the most esteemed medical professionals in this sector would have alleviated most of the worst symptoms by then.
Nick still struggled to keep on his feet before an automated feminine monotone voice pronounced itself throughout the room.
"Good morning, Nick. My sensors detect elevated levels of stress and physical discomfort. Shall I alert a doctor?" the voice asked him.
Nick groaned, gently rubbing the calf of his leg. "No thanks, Jan," he replied, using the name that he had dubbed for the feminine voice of his room's automated system.
"Very well, Nick. Would you like me to prepare your clothes for today? Perhaps a Halloween costume of your choosing?" Jan asked.
Nick shook his head. "No thanks, just the usual shorts and a t-shirt would be great. I don't care which ones," he replied simply, walking over to his kitchen. "Oh and a cup of coffee; cream and sugar," he added.
"Of course, Nick," Jan replied, complying with his orders.
Nick sat himself down at the kitchen table as his coffee began to brew on the coffee maker of its own accord. Meanwhile, he heard the machinery in his closet automatically sort through and select his desired clothes. When his mug of coffee had finished pouring, a mechanical hand had extended from the ceiling to carry the drink over to his kitchen table.
"Thanks Jan," he muttered, taking his first sip of the brew. He picked up the translucent tablet device sitting on the table. As soon as his fingers made contact with it, a collage of images and words filled the page; the headlines of the day's breaking news stories shifting across the top of it in bold letters.
As soon as he started reading the cover story about 'colonial development efforts' and drank at his coffee, he was interrupted by the enthusiastic knocking on his door followed by shrill cries of "trick or treat!"
Nick gulped down a mouthful of hot coffee and dropped his tablet. "Geez, the kids are at it already?" he muttered, looking down at his watch.
He knew that there was always such enthusiasm across the station every time October 31st rolled around. But even then, seven thirty in the morning? Had these kids no shame?! Nick then slapped himself on the head as it occurred to him that it was currently a Saturday and all the station's children were off from school for the day.
He sprung up from his chair as quickly as he could, given his leg condition. He scrambled across the apartment over to the door as the children continued knocking incessantly and one of them began ringing the doorbell. He looked through the glass peephole and saw two short, skinny forms staring up at his door, bobbing up and down on their tiptoes excitedly. Behind them, a taller, similar-looking figure stood by, grinning at the eagerness of the children. Next to her was a small oval-shaped baby stroller levitating above the ground like a hovercraft.
"Hey Jan; it's Eiza and her kids!" Nick pronounced to his automated system.
He put his mouth near the door and yelled out to his familiar visitors, "Just gimme one second!"
Nick's eyes darted from place to place across the apartment. He scratched his head confusedly, having clearly misplaced something of vital importance for that particular day.
"Crap; Jan, where did I leave the bowls of candy?" he asked, searching every nook of his living room.
"On the dining room table, Nick," came the immediate robotic reply. "I dispersed the contents into their respective bowls and labeled them just as you had requested."
