2020-05-02 - spike - Trapped again Part nineteen

Author: spike
Title: Trapped again. Part nineteen.
Date: 02 May 2020

He got to the gym the next morning, the nightmare of the previous night still running around in his head.

Mal stepped back at the sight of him. “Shit, you look like you’re ready to murder someone.”

“Oh, I don’t need to kill ‘em. But I really feel the need to punch something right now. Why aren’t there any punchbags in ‘ere!?”

“Er… what?”

“Dangle from the ceiling? Bags filled with sand or high-density foam? Something for you to lay into, get rid of unwanted aggression?”

“What happened?”

“Biggest fright of my fucking life, that’s what happened. That moron of a teacher they sent to replace our regular somehow managed to convince a guard to unlock my cell. He left the flute in there so I could practice. I refused four times after class yesterday and ended up having everything wiped out because of it, every lock, every privilege, gone.”

He gulped. “A flute? In your cell? After”

“After lockdown, yes! God, I can’t wait to get my retrial now, just so I’ll feel free to punch his bloody nose into the back of his skull.”

“But how are you here?”

“Laundry chute. Had to break the thing in half to fit it in though.”

“Ooh, destruction of prison property, that’s a serious one!”

“Not as serious as bloody contraband though, is it? Not something that gets you sent to eight. Besides, I was following orders. When the doctor saw what he’d done, he’s the one who ordered me to destroy it. I’m safe.”

“Laundry chute’s a fuckin’ good idea. Have to remember that. Isn’t it traceable?”

“According to a guard, they all end up in the same room, probably in a jumble, ready to be shoved into the washing machines. All the garments are chipped so we get the same ones.”

He chuckled. “Just hope the flute doesn’t clog up the works.”

Eric surveyed the other blacks in the room and sighed. “She’s late? Again?”

“Want to take it out on her, do you?”

“Who else? Well, she knows now what happens if she doesn’t turn up. I get a friend or two to drag her here kicking and sc”

Before he’d finished the sentence, she walked into the gym.

“About bloody time! You, treadmill. Five k and I want it completed in sixteen minutes this time! Go!” He walked up to the panel. “Activate and lock.”

“Why can’t you leave me alone?”

Eric loomed over her. “Because I loath the very sight of you. Do as you’re bloody well told. You know what happens if you don’t. How many demerits now? Five? Five weeks of nothing? How would you like another bloody six months of it? For every thirty seconds over sixteen minutes, I’ll make sure you get another bloody demerit package. Now, move!”

The other blacks chuckled as she scurried past.

Eric rubbed his hands together and trotted after. “And don’t think I’ve stopped watching you lot. You know what to do.”

They grinned, nodded and took their places.
* * *
He sighed, took a deep breath, swiped the door and took his seat.

He looked around. Everyone else had their flute on their desk and it didn’t take long for the teacher to notice the absence of his.

“Unknown! Where is your flute? I gave you explicit instructions to practice. I checked. You didn’t.”

“I don’t have one, sir. I’ll have to book another one out. I left it by the door to the workshop I was working on last night and when I left, it was gone, sir. I thought someone must’ve stolen it at fir”

“It wasn’t stolen, I took it. I asked a guard and he took me to your cell. He put a much better flute in there to make sure you had it and as an apology for wiping out your privileges. Leaving that flute behind… I saw no other choice but to issue further infractions, but I didn’t know that meant everything.”

“I know, sir. You wiped me out and now you admit to planting that thing in my cell! You... are... a... fuckwit! You tried to destroy my life, and for what? Ego? I told you I couldn’t”

“And I told you to bloody well practice! Where is it?”

Eric shrugged. “I had no choice. As it was too big to shove down the laundry chute on one piece, I had to destroy it. It was the only way to get it out of my cell.”

The face that had begun to turn beet red again went as white as a sheet in a second. “You…” He gulped. “You did what? You…” Tears began to form in his eyes. “You destroyed it?”

“I tried to tell you five times last night, but you wouldn’t listen. I had absolutely no intention of ever allowing that thing into my cell and yet you put it there! I’m a black, you cretin! I can’t have anything in my cell! No possessions! Got that? Nothing! Not even a chocolate bar! If that fucking flute had been found there during inspection, I would’ve never had another privilege again! Ever! For the rest of my bloody life! I would’ve never seen a flute again, so of course I destroyed it. Arsehole!”

The red was returning. “Have you any idea what you’ve done?”

Eric shrugged. “I couldn’t give a shit, to tell you the truth, sir! It was an act of self-defence! Don’t know what you’re worried about anyway, it was prison issue. Fabricate a replacement!”

“Prison issue!? Prison issue!? When I found I’d wiped out every privilege you had, I realised I may have been too harsh so decided to make up for it a little. That flute was one of the mellowest, most delightfully tuned antiques I’ve had the pleasure to play! It was worth over twenty-five thousand pounds! And you destroyed it?”

Eric gulped in mock shock. “Twenty… What the fuck were you thinking? Oh well, not my problem. You’re the moron who did it!”

“Computer. Position one! Fifty demerits!”

“Prisoner 50095223 now has forty-eight demerits.”

Eric sprang to his feet and glared in fury at the idiot. “Are you fucking kidding me! A year! A year with nothing? Locked in my cell? For what? Protecting myself from a fucking psychopath like you?”

“Five hundred demerits!”

There was a buzz and the computer spoke again. “Prisoner 50095223. Report immediately to the governor’s office.”

“Yes, sir. Finally… I get to speak to someone with a brain!” Eric marched to the door and swiped. It opened, he stepped out, stood facing the wall with his arms behind his back and waited.

Another buzz issued. “Teb Gibbings. Report immediately to the governor’s office.”

The teacher sighed. “Computer, inform the governor I will be with him on completion of this lesson.”

“Teb Gibbings. Terminate the lesson immediately and report to the governor’s office.”

“Everyone… Out! Practice! That’s an order!” Gibbings left the room with a worried expression.

Eric looked over his shoulder with a grin. “Think your nickname from now on will be Ook! I’ll push that idea to every bloody prisoner in here!”

“Ook? What do you mean, Ook!?”

“It’s the sound gibbons make. You’ve got less intelligence than even them… Sir!”

“I don’t know what other punishments are available but blood and shit I’ll make sure you get them!”

Eric sniggered. “We’ll see.”

The teacher barged to the end of the corridor, swiped, and was gone.

It was a couple of minutes before he felt the cuffs snap around his wrist, followed by the collar, belt and the final snap that totally immobilised his arms.

“Come.”

“Yes, sir.” Eric followed the guard.

The guard sighed. “What did you do? A summons like this is normally serious.”

“Not for me, this time, sir. That teacher’s in for a shock though.”
* * *
When he got to the governor’s office, everyone who needed to be there, was. The doctor stood to one side, two guards were present and Gibbings looked at Eric with the smuggest “oh, you’re going to get it now.” type expression it was possible to produce.

The governor’s expression was grave, his fingers, knitted together, resting on his desk. “Good, now we’re all here…” He looked at Gibbings. “From the beginning of yesterday’s lesson. What happened?”

He shrugged. “The prisoners filed in, took their seats, then he came in and sat at the front.”

“And?”

“Well, naturally, I objected. That desk was reserved for the best in class, according to Mr Ditton’s lesson plan.”

“Why did you object? Why did you consider that objection natural? And why did you immediately assume he wasn’t the best in class?”

“Look at him!”

“He’s a pleasant enough man. In fact, every report I’ve had on his behaviour designates him as a model prisoner. Why did you object?”

“He’s wearing black of course!”

“Mr Gibbings. Every contractor who enters this prison has to undergo a thorough induction course, true?”

“Yes.”

“You are made fully aware of all prison regulations, both those that you have to abide by and those that bind the prisoners themselves?”

“Yes, but”

“I don’t accept the word but. The regulations are there for a reason. I know for a fact he doesn’t deserve to be in those restraints, for example. The prison regulations state, however, that all blacks must be restrained in such a way when outside the confines of their cell block. Regulations chapter 1, paragraph 57-3 sections a, b and c state quite clearly that any prisoner, no matter their grade who gains the entitlement to take lessons shall be permitted to do so. There will be no prejudicial treatment of said prisoners based on their grade or any other criteria and you will not refuse to teach them! Furthermore, such self-improvement is actively encouraged once the privilege is earned!”

He sighed. “Yes. Alright. I was shocked, OK! I didn’t expect to see such scum in”

“Gibbings! Enough! What did I just say about prejudice? Your job is to teach. Not to bloody well judge! Any judgements against them have already been made. That’s why they’re here!”

“OK…”

“Yes, sir. Say it!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Better. Get used to it. Now, continue.”

“He was incredibly rude to me, sir.”

“Unknown? Explain yourself.”

Eric sighed. “I was annoyed, sir. I admit it. I was one of the best in the class and then to have some complete stranger tell me he refused to teach me, that I wasn’t entitled to even be there… I’ve worked hard in that class, sir.”

“Yes, I’ve seen Ditton’s reports. I quite agree.” He returned his attention to Gibbings. “What happened then?”

“He challenged me to bring up his charge sheet.”

The governor glowered. “Sir!”

“OK! OK! Sir! The sight of it was horrific! Every crime on that list was disgusting, sir! I was horrified, but he seemed amused. Then he told the woman sitting next to him to point out a few things about them.”

“What kind of things?”

“That six-month-olds tend not to have the strength to plunge kitchen knives through peoples rib cages. That he couldn’t possibly be in Manchester and Paddington at the same time, sir. OK, I started to relax a little after that, sir. Then I brought up his class reports and challenged all the front row to play a complex piece. They all did it admirably, sir.”

“Continue.”

“Everything went fine after that. I had the entire class attempt the same piece of music, it got steadily worse as it went further back in the room until the back row…. Oh shit, they were terrible. I ordered them all to practice, told them I’d make sure they did using the sensors in their cells and if they didn’t, I’d see to it they lost every privilege they’d earned, sir. Then I dismissed the class, but when I did, he…” His finger lanced out at Eric. “put his flute back on its rack and attempted to leave without it.”

“Quite right, too.”

“Right? I ordered him to take it. He had the gall to refuse!”

“And that’s when you began to issue punishments? How many?”

“I can’t remember. I don’t care. He was refusing to obey me, so I kept issuing them until he did! Then when I left the classroom I found that bloody flute lying in the corridor, so I issued a few more punishments too. When the computer reported that his final lock had gone, I tried knocking out one of his privileges to make him suffer for his disobedience!”

The governor sighed. “And instead, you found you’d wiped them completely. Every last one of them.”

“Yes, sir. It confused me, sir. I only tried to delete his telop privileges but everything went!”

“He informed you that the punishments were harsher for the blacks, did he not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, that goes for privileges, too. It isn’t possible to knock individual ones off when punishing a black. They all go in one fell swoop. And you wiped out every protection against that fate in order to get to that point! What happened then?”

“I asked the computer to list all the privileges he’d lost, sir. I was horrified! I’d done something terrible to him, so, I decided to try to make it right. I went to my car, fetched my favourite flute and asked a few guards what to do. Finally found one willing to take me to his cell and put it in there.”

“Which guard?”

“Err…”

“Who did it?!”

“I don’t know! It was just a guard. I don’t even remember his face! It was just a man in uniform to me!”

“We’ll deal with that later… Unknown, would you care to explain to this idiot the rules you have to live by as a black?”

“Gladly, sir.” Eric leaned in close and growled. “The blacks have three rules to live by. Three simple rules. One, not even a hint of violence. Even giving someone a shove, if it caused a bruise, bam! Two, no illegal drugs. Everything we piss and shit’s analysed. If they detect anything, again, bam! And three? No possessions. If anything’s found in our cells during inspection that wasn’t there when we first stepped into it, bam! And then you get that fucking flute dropped in there! And the punishment for those little infractions? Instant transfer to block eight. If I hadn’t got rid of that flute you would’ve destroyed my life, along with any hope of a fair retrial! I would’ve been denied everything for the rest of my life. No privileges. No communication with the outside world. Every moment in my fucking cell for the rest of my life apart from gym! And I wouldn’t even have any choice when it came to entertainment or food when I was in there! You… Cretin! You might as well have put a bloody gun to my head! Did you allow me to explain? Did you even give me the chance to say I can’t because? No. Not that I could explain about block eight anyway, right then!”

The governor looked at Eric with concern. “Why?”

“Sir, the other students were still hovering, watching. If I’d told him about block eight, every black would’ve had to spend the rest of their lives in their cells! The greys would know they couldn’t retaliate. They would’ve turned on them.”

The governor nodded. “An excellent point. Unknown had seven locks protecting those privileges and you wiped out every single one of them because you issued him with a series of commands he could not obey! I’d class that as prisoner harassment! I’d also class the placement of that instrument in his cell as next of kin to attempted murder. Believe me, Unknown. What you described for block eight is only a small part of it, it’s much worse than that.”

“Worse? But it sounds like hell as it is!”

“Much worse. I won’t say how, just make sure you never find out. Every black deserves such treatment for the crimes they’ve committed. They have one final chance to avoid it.”

“I’ve been trying my best, sir.”

“I know. How did you feel, when you turned and saw the flute?”

“How do you think I felt!? Terrified! I’ve not been so scared in years, sir. I looked around in a panic, I tried opening the door but all that got me was a warning I’d be punished if I tried again. I tried the toilet, the laundry chute but it wouldn’t fit!” He turned to the doctor. “If I hadn’t contacted doctor Conrad… If he hadn’t ordered me to destroy it, I would’ve…” Eric took a juddering breath and shook his head.

The governor grimaced. “Psychological torture. Do you concur, your honour?”

A new voice echoed around the room. “I do. And his words damn him without the need for a trial. We have it on record, every confession. Feel free to pass sentence.”

“Thank you, your honour.” There was a beep as if a connection had ended. The governor returned his attention to Gibbings. “Strip.”

“What?”

“I said strip. Remove your clothing! Every thread of it. Now!”

“Why? What did he mean, sentence?”

“You have admitted guilt to everything. Contravention of prison regulations, smuggling in of contraband of extreme value. Even the greys aren’t permitted anything above the value of fifty pounds and yet you placed an item worth over twenty thousand in a prisoner’s cell. Worse, a prisoner who isn’t permitted any possessions!”

“But it wasn’t a possession! I only lent it to him!”

“You admitted to deleting every privilege. When did you expect him to return it? Three months from now when he may have regained the privilege to retake your lessons? He was crying in abject terror at the fate that awaited him! I also sentence you for the crime of attempted murder and as a result, you’re no longer permitted civilian clothing. For the third time, I order you to strip. Computer, assign a convict number to ex-music contractor number CR4251AE4.”

“Convict number 50095402 assigned.”

Eric grinned. “I wonder what shade you’re going to be, Ook. This is better than I imagined.”

Gibbings stared at Eric and this time it was his eyes wide in terror. “You can’t just sentence me! I haven’t even spoken to an advocate!”

“Advocate? Why would you need an advocate?” The governor smiled and it wasn’t a pleasant one. “Advocates only help those where guilt is uncertain. You already confessed to all your crimes. We have a whole classroom full of convicts as witness, not to mention the recordings. Every inch of this prison is under constant monitoring.”

“But you haven’t even said how long you’re sentencing me to!”

“Time is not discussed around prisoners. At a trial, a judge would inform you of the length of your sentence. I don’t need to because you’re already here. You’ll find out how long after release. I have however just added one more year to it for failure to obey a direct order. Consider yourself lucky I haven’t assigned you to black!”

“Black!? But black means never seeing”

Eric smirked. “Never seeing daylight again. Never seeing the outside of this place for the rest of your life! Now you have an idea how I felt. Welcome to the club. I hope it’s an incredibly long one.”

“But I have a life!”

“And you think I didn’t? I’m engaged to be married! I’ve got a career I love! A village I helped build up from nothing! I’ve got more friends than you can imagine and I’ll never see any of them again as long as I’m in here and you tried to screw me over beyond imagining!”

The governor turned his attention to one of the guards. “Restrain this man! And then cut off his clothing, as he seems so reluctant to remove it himself!”

“Cut… But this is a Berolli original!”

“And in a minute,” the governor grinned evilly, “it and all the rest will be nothing but cleaning rags.”

The guard grabbed his wrists from behind, yanked hard, forced them together and with a snap, the restraints locked on. Gibbings stared around in panic, but before he could react further, the collar and belt also snapped on. With the addition of the solid metal rod, the wrists yanked themselves to the belt and locked in place.

“Get me out of these things!”

Eric smiled. “Those things are impossible to remove here.”

He let out a yelp. “What do you mean? Impossible?”

“Until you’re in your cell, they can’t be removed. They’re permanent. Step into your cell and snap. Everything falls off. If you were to somehow try to escape, they'll remain until you were recaptured.” Eric smirked. “Clever, isn’t it? Please, try to escape.”

The guard withdrew a long, evil-looking blade and within a minute, Gibbings’ clothing lay shredded on the floor and he stood naked, shifting in embarrassment as his hands couldn’t even cover his privates.

The guard collected the rags and stuffed them into a bag.

“What are you doing with them?”

The governor’s face turned grave again. “For extended sentences, a convict’s possessions are sold to pay for their incarceration. I take it you’re aware of that? Your home will be stripped bare and if you own it, it, along with the contents, will be sold. Your clothing no longer belonged to you so it doesn’t matter what we did with it. Their remnants will be burned. Your car, sold. Your bank accounts, purged. You will, on your release, start again with nothing. You will be provided with two sets of the most inexpensive civilian clothing it’s possible to purchase on your release, but I wouldn’t worry about that for a very long time. Guard!”

“Yes, sir.” The second guard marched forward and for the first time, removed his hands from behind his back. He dropped what he’d been holding at Gibbings’ feet. Charcoal grey.

The guard arranged the trousers so they could be stepped in and pointed.

Gibbings stared at the prison uniform in horror. “But that’s way too dark!”

“I don’t bloody care, step into them!” The guard pointed again. “Or walk to your cell naked, doesn’t matter to me!”

He shifted from foot to foot, sniffled and stepped into them. The guard pulled them up and pointed at the slippers. “Now step into them!”

He stepped into them, tears streaming down his cheeks. “This can’t be happening! I made a mistake, but… Life? Like this?”

Eric sniggered. “Grey seven means years, decades probably but you did it to yourself. You have similar rules to me, now. No violence, no drugs and if you break them, it’s black for you. I take it he’s allowed possessions, sir?”

“If he can convince someone from the outside to bring him some treats, yes. But that may be a long time in coming. Contact with the outside is, after all, a privilege. The commissary is available but in order for him to use it, he’ll need to earn some credits and the current, normal waiting list for work is three years.”

“So there’s no way for someone to buy credits outside?”

“Oh, no. That’s a ludicrous idea. Credits are a reward, not something to be given freely. Why? Did the last prison you were in permit that?”

“More, sir. Any money a person’s carrying when they’re arrested gets added to their comm balance. Family members can pay more in, too.”

“Well here, credits have to be earned. You’re doing an excellent job earning them yourself, right now.”

“Shame there’s nothing to spend them on.”

“But there is! You know you’re permitted”

“Paid for content. I know, sir, and I have looked, but I can’t say I’ve found anything that interests me in that. I’m getting everything I need from the free stuff, sir.”

“It’s unlikely you’ll be black forever. On that note, I do have one bit of good news for you, so prepare yourself.”

“Sir?”

“Your pre-trial hearing’s later today.”

Eric sagged into his restraints. “Oh, thank god. Thank you, sir.”

“I think that’s everything, for now.”

“Everything, sir? I’m going to be stuck in my cell for the next ten years after what that pillock did to me today, sir. And what about the guard who allowed it?”

“What do you mean, ten years?”

“When I informed him I’d destroyed the flute, fifty demerits, sir. Naturally, I was fucking livid and threw a few choice insults his way. Then he issued me with five hundred. That’s when the computer ordered me to report here, sir.”

The governor returned his attention to the sobbing ex-teacher. “Fifty? Five hundred? Are you insane?”

“He… He destroyed my flute! And when he… He…”

“He was right to destroy it. Fortunately, any request to hand out more than one hundred demerits is instantly rejected and both parties are summoned here. One hundred is for a severe breach of security. Instigating a prison riot, attacking a guard causing serious injury, attempted escape, things like that. Not destroying a bloody musical instrument that had no right to be in a cell in the first place!”

“I’m sorry! OK! You know how much value that had, and the monetary cost was only a small part of it. It was my favourite instrument!”

“And now you’ll never see an antique flute again. If you earn the privilege, you may be permitted to borrow one from prison stores. A normal, prison-issue one. That means from now on we expect nothing but the best behaviour from you. As for the guard, good point, Unknown. None of this would’ve happened without his incompetence. Computer, show any movement in cell…” The governor paused. “How many times did you return to your cell, Unknown?”

“After gym, after workshop cleaning, after gym again and green time, sir.”

“Computer, movement in cell four dash twelve between the end of the second flute lesson and green time. Display.”

The door opened and the guard entered, flute in hand. He looked around furtively, walked to the far end and placed it, leaning against the wall.

The governor’s head sagged. “Bedford? But he’s one of my best! He knows better than to allow such a crime. He also knows the consequences!”

“But… He… I recognise him, sir. I liked him! When I told him what the police did to me, he was incredibly sympa”

The guard returned to the door and placed his hand. “Open.” But something was…

“There’s something not right, sir. He knows he’s doing the wrong thing. I can tell just by…” Then, it struck him. “Sir… Are the chips always in the left hand?”

“Of course. Most panels are placed that way for convenience.”

“Then why is he using his right one to open the door? Does the cell… I suppose it must if you want to monitor us after lights out… Does the cell sensor record everything?”

“What do you mean? Everything?”

“Can you ask it to display infrared? Active or passive…”

“What do… What is this… Infrared?”

Eric sighed. “Not again. I don’t know what you call it, but where I’m from, we’ve got ultra-violet light which is light of a higher frequency than violet on the spectrum, often associated with skin cancer and causing a suntan and infrared which is below the red end of the spectrum related to heat. We have cameras there for security that only display infrared coupled with an infrared light source. We call that active infrared. Passive is where it senses the temperature of the area, hot things like the human body usually display as reds and yellows, cold things blue.”

“Then yes, why though?”

“Just… Please, sir. Humour me. I think...”

“Computer, replay the surveillance in thermal.”

Again, the guard entered, looked around, placed the flute and returned to the door. It might’ve been the thermal distorting things but his face… He didn’t seem to have one, it was just an indistinct blur.

“Sir, can you overlay the two?”

“Of course. I’m curious about your line of thinking. Computer, overlay the thermal on the visual spectrum. Replay.”

He, whoever he was, was definitely a little taller than the guard. A little slimmer too.

Eric sighed. “We have a saying back home, sir. Just because you’re being paranoid, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you. That’s not officer Bedford. Can’t tell who he is, but can you follow him after he leaves?” Eric turned to the still sobbing Gibbings. “What the hell did you agree to? How much did they pay you?”

“What do you mean!?”

“Little bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? Someone posing as one of our guards on the same day you just happen to try fucking me over? Little bit convenient you just happened to run into that guard! He suggested it, didn’t he?”

“What? No!”

“Your life here could be very uncomfortable, Ook. If you tell the truth maybe the governor could be persuaded to grant you a few privileges. Decades, remember. You might as well forget about life outside! You’re here for a very long time and you start with nothing. All day, all alone in your cell, only allowed out to exercise twice a day, for months. Absolutely no choice of food or drink. I really hope you like noodles. No entertainments beyond those provided and those will be severely limited until you earn the privilege to choose. I know for a fact it’s boring as hell, stuck in your cell all that time because I’ve lived it.”

“But… My sister!”

“What about her?”

“They have something on her!”

“Who do? And what?”

“The police, OK! She’s got a problem. They’ve been willing to overlook it but they have a file this… Damn.”

“This big… Go on. I know, bit restrictive aren’t they? What problem?”

“Kleptomania. She can’t even remember doing it. Things just miraculously find their way into her bag.”

“Thought as much. They’re trying to put me so far out of the way I can’t testify against them, aren’t they? If I’d been sent to block eight I would’ve never been allowed to stand as a witness!”

“I refused until they said you were a terrorist! A retro! They wanted you to suffer because you killed a few of them!”

The governor sighed. “Galloway. Again! They really have it in for you, Unknown.”

“I noticed, sir!”

“Thank you, Unknown. If you hadn’t suggested the thermal image, I would’ve had Bedford arrested and with him in police custody, you can be sure they would’ve made the charges stick. He would’ve been one of you within a week! How did you know?”

“It has to be a holographic disguise, sir. I’ve used one. That’s how I knew infrared would see through it. Why it can’t pick up his face, I don’t know.”

“Used one? But they’re illegal. Ten years just for possession”

“In this world, sir, yes. It has been incredibly useful for us though. A lad in our village fell foul of a mob boss and with the aid of that device, we dismantled his entire organisation. Cal forbade bringing it with me, using it to get to Van Holder, because he knew the consequences. That’s why I didn’t. I found it in a little hidden treasure trove, sir. A place only someone with my… talent can enter. The place was built by someone who’d been using high technology to keep himself alive for decades longer than normal. We believe he died around nineteen eighty, finally, but he lived to the ripe old age of about one hundred and ninety, sir.”

“Blood and shit, that’s good going! How? Even we’ve not managed that long yet!”

“I can only assume he encountered more than one world with hi-tech, sir. Different technological advancements, different worlds. In the end, he was using a healing device from this one, though, to keep himself alive, but he found he’d grown addicted to it. When he stopped, he barely had time to write a few pages of a journal… Probably less than a day or two before age caught up with him.”

The governor nodded. “I agree with this Doctor Anderson of yours. Mere possession, minimum of ten years, but if you’d been caught using it, you would’ve been in black with no hope of a retrial, no matter what other crimes they tried to accuse you of.”

“Shit! Really? God, I thought ten was bad enough when he told me, sir. Oh, can you make a small adjustment to the rules?”

“What kind of adjustment?”

“Currently, our orders are, when the lights turn green we lock our cells immediately upon entering. If I hadn’t thought to contact doctor Conrad I’d be in block eight right now. They’ve tried once, I bet they’ll try again and if I had ten minutes, I could give my cell a thorough search. I could throw anything they left in there out before locking.”

“Now I know such a threat exists, granted, and not just for you. But I warn you, you make your way back to your cell immediately upon noticing the lights have turned green. No loitering. The moment green time ends, the lock will be automatic. Nothing can override that. If anything is found, you report it to me immediately.”

“The cell only offers an opportunity to make an appointment with you, sir. That’s why I always contact doctor Conrad first.”

“You’ll find that’s changed the next time you look. For you, at least.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Right then, let's see where our counterfeit guard went after leaving your cell. Computer, follow the guard from four dash twelve. Archive every step of his journey until I order you to stop. And triple lock that archive. Display.”

The guard stepped into the alcove and the view switched to the walkway outside. Gibbings stood there, fidgeting as the guard emerged.

“And she’s free and clear, now?”

“Don’t worry about her, sir. We’ll make sure her records are wiped. We’ll even ensure any further… mistakes are ignored. They won’t be recorded.”

Gibbings visibly relaxed. “Thank you. You have no idea… I… She’d never survive in a place like this. But what about him?”

“Him? He’ll finally get what he deserves!”

“But I know a lot of those charges were”

“Fake? Of course they were, we had to make sure. That vector’s a menace. Come on, I’ll escort you back to your car.”

Down to the communal area to the narrow end of the wedge, down the long corridor Eric had taken to get to the visitor’s room but they didn’t go that far. A swipe, again with his right hand, the guard ushered Gibbings through and the door closed behind him. It seemed to be another alcove.

Another switch of view, this one was darker than the rest, bare concrete and brickwork rather than the pristine blandness of the prison. As they emerged the view followed them to a car. Gibbings swiped the door, stepped inside and slammed the door behind him. The car’s lights lit and it moved silently away.

The guard continued to another section of what was obviously an underground car park to another one, a swipe, this time with his left hand and he stepped inside and drove away too. The view switched to the street outside as the car drove up a ramp and turned. The progress from then on was a series of snapshots of the car’s journey as it drove past numerous cameras.

Finally, it pulled to a halt and the man who stepped out was no longer the guard. He wore a black hood that totally covered his features. He looked around, slammed the car door shut and removed his hood before vanishing into a building.

“Subject lost. It is no longer possible to track his progress.”

Eric nodded. “I recognise him, sir. He’s the one who arrested me.”

The governor chuckled. “Another piece of evidence against him. I suppose we should count ourselves lucky he chose to remove it before he stepped into the building.”

“Police station?”

“It seems to be an innocuous office block. I don’t follow the workings of the police, though, so, I suppose it may be one of their less… overt headquarters or meeting places.”

Eric nodded and turned to the sobbing musician. “I think it’s time you told us your story from the start. How the hell did you get into this mess?”