2020-05-07 - spike - Trapped again Part twenty

Author: spike
Title: Trapped again. Part twenty.
Date: 07 May 2020

Gibbings took a step back and shook his head at the suggestion.

“Why do you continue to resist?” The governor glowered at the newest inmate with contempt. “Tell your tale. Now!”

“I… I can’t! I… What they’ll do to her…”

Eric rolled his eyes. “I’ve got more honour in my little fingernail than they have in their whole bodies. Do you seriously believe they’re telling the truth regarding your sister? And now you’ve taken a far bigger step into the prison system than a few thefts ever will. She’d be unlucky to get… What, two years, sir?”

“Depending on the pettiness of the thefts, she might even get off with a suspended sentence for her first appearance in court, along with an order to see a therapist. Subsequent ones would add that sentence onto the next one, but it’s unlikely to be more than four.”

“I… She…”

“Ook…” Eric sighed. “Gibbings! Listen to me! Even as a black, it’s not that bad here once you get a few privileges. Before then, hell. Your choice. OK… Let’s try a different tack. When did she start to steal things? What did she steal?”

“Little things from shops. Chocolate, small trinkets, nothing of much value. Very little that was much use to anyone.”

“When did you find out?”

“She confided in me, she was scared. She said she kept finding things she hadn’t paid for.”

“And when did the police find out?”

“They arrested her the first time three months ago. She was caught leaving a vendor and a quick search found a tin of diced artichoke hearts in her bag. That was just before I took the induction course. I didn’t understand until kleptomania was explained. She hates artichoke!”

The governor nodded. “They often take things that are no use to them. It’s a compulsion, not a choice.”

Eric’s eyes narrowed. “These little coincidences do keep cropping up though, don’t they, sir.”

“What? You can’t mean… That is a… Computer, full psychological profile of…” he looked at Gibbings. “What’s your sister’s name?”

“Mab. Why?”

“Full psych profile of Mab Gibbings, sister of prisoner 50096402.”

“Until five months ago, no reported anomalies. That is the point in time she first reported finding stolen property on her person.”

Eric furrowed his brow. “When did you apply to work for the prison service?”

“Six months ago, I got the notice of acceptance five… Five months ago… How? They can’t!”

The governor shook his head. “Unknown, you realise of course, this is just a mad conspiracy. You hadn’t been back to this world, according to you at least, for years at that point.”

“I know, sir. I’m not suggesting they did all this just to get me, sir. But to get anyone in the prison they didn’t like, maybe.”

“You think they’re… I don’t even know if there’s a term for it.”

“Back home, I think they call it the long game, sir. Long term preparation. Common infiltration technique. Plant people they can use in sensitive government departments, or in this case, the prison system… We call them sleeper agents. They act perfectly normally until activated. If I hadn’t come along, Mr Gibbings here might’ve been left unused for months or even years. Bet they would’ve used him eventually though, once they’d got their hooks in. Why was Mr Ditton called away? If you contacted him, I think it’s likely to have been a false alarm.”

“That sounds despicable!”

“Sir, a lot of nations in a lot of worlds are at each other’s throats. Espionage a common theme when there’s tension between different countries.” Eric glanced back at Gibbings to see him shaking his head in denial.

Eric sighed. ”Is there a way to see some of the thefts she’s been accused of? I know a lot’s recorded out there… Maybe not quite as much as in here but… Well…”

The governor nodded. “As it’s related to his case, I should have access. Computer, Mab Gibbings again. Is there any surveillance footage concerning her… Indiscretions?”

“Affirmative.”

“Download the most recent and display. Full data.”

What appeared was a fairly standard supermarket aisle. Eric nodded at it. “I would’ve expected everyone to go for the delivery option.”

“A lot of people prefer to view the products before purchase. Offer’s more choice too when you can see them all in front of you. It’s also a little less expensive.”

She stood before a shelf full of… something colourful. Eric looked closer. “What are those?”

“I believe that’s the bathroom aisle.” The governor leaned in and nodded. “Yes. Bath fizz. Very popular.”

“Ah… Drop it in, it dissolves and effervesces, makes a nice bubble bath?”

“Yes.”

“We call them bath bombs, sir.”

A man with his arm in a sling also scanned the shelves. He moved closer and the moment he was beside her, Eric stared. One of the items on the shelf… A pale green box… He nodded. “Sir, I think I see how they did it. Did you spot that?”

“No, what?”

He looked at Gibbings. “Did you?”

“I think I must’ve blinked. It was there… Then it wasn’t. Which one of them took it?”

“It just winked out of existence, and I think I know why. That arm… The one in the sling… That’s the disguise, the real arm’s invisible.”

Gibbings snorted. “Invisible? Really…”

“I’ve used one of those things, remember? I could order it to show me as anyone I’d scanned. I’m six foot six and I’ve told it to make me look like someone five foot four before now. It doesn’t make me shrink. It just makes the bits of me that don’t fit that template invisible. It’s a form of cloaking, a means of taking the image from one side of you and projecting it onto the other. Left a bit of distortion if you moved too quick but bloody effective. Switch to infra-red again and you’ll see what he did with that bath bomb.”

The governor nodded. “Computer, overlay thermal again and replay.”

As the man inched down the aisle towards her, there didn’t seem to be anything odd apart from the blur for a face but the moment he was beside her, an arm that had been held in the same position as the holographic one appeared. It picked up the bath bomb and gently placed it in her bag, burying it among the other things in there.

He returned his arm to the sling position, picked up a bath bomb of his own with his visible arm and walked away.

Eric sagged in his restraints. “See? See what they’ve been doing? Your sister never stole anything. They planted everything on her just to get to you! Do you really think you can trust them, now? You’re no use to them anymore wearing grey. They’ll either stop doing it or knowing them, they’ll crap on her from a great height just because they can, but you have the chance to get back at them.” Eric turned to the governor. “Is grey seven really appropriate, sir? Now we know the truth?”

“Appropriate? Of course it’s bloody appropriate! He nearly ended your life! Don’t tell me you’re willing to forgive him for that! Before, we thought it was just stupidity and ignorance, which themselves are no excuse, but now? Now we know he knew exactly what he was trying to do to you!”

“I am, sir. Stupidity and ignorance are no excuse, but he was trying to protect a loved one! I fully understand that! I might’ve done the same thing if one of my family was threatened!”

“Well, I’m sorry, but in my opinion, this is an even more serious dereliction of duty! Prison regulations again. Chapter one, paragraph five. If at any time a contractor or other prison employee experiences any form of coercion, threat or attempted bribery from any party with the goal of unduly injuring or otherwise detrimentally affecting the life or physical slash psychological well-being of any inmate, he is to immediately report it to the prison governor! Another of the host of regulations he’s broken.” He turned to Gibbings. “If you’d spoken to me about this, about these threats, something could’ve been done, but now? No. You’re in here for the full term I’ve imposed and I’ll tell you this now! You won’t even have a chance of seeing the outside world again until you’re at least forty-five! Refuse to cooperate, cause trouble, refuse to admit it was all your fault, anything we deem as not good behaviour and you won’t see the sky until you’re over sixty! Is that understood?”

“Sixty! I can’t… I can’t live like this for… I…”

Eric sighed. “It’s not that bad. Don’t worry, I’ll help. I… I wonder… Sir… How much more evidence will you be able to gather after today’s revelations?”

“A hell of a lot.”

“Don’t you think he at least deserves to be rewarded for that? He’s just as much a victim of Galloway as I am if you think about it. More, in fact. I’m likely to get a lot lighter than seven before long.”

The governor nodded. “I suppose he does deserve something, but it will not be what I granted you. I think six privileges should be enough. I will allow him to choose them.” He looked Gibbings in the eye. “Choose wisely. Behave well and you’ll be granted more.”

“Sir, I know we agreed to only the lighter shades who had no violence in their history, but… Would it be possible to relax the shade side of that?”

“You’re not serious? Proposing such a thing for… For that?”

“Oh, not just for him, sir. One of the grey sixes in our flute lessons has expressed an interest. I think he might too when he hears what’s planned. It was Mr Ditton’s suggestion, sir.”

“Who is this grey six?”

“Greuder, sir.”

“Computer, bring up the prison records for an inmate in block three called Greuder with a cross-reference for the flute one course.”

The screen appeared and he studied it for a few moments, swiping this way and that. “It does mention violence, Unknown.”

“According to him, sir, not on his part. He was part of a demonstration. Some members of it did throw a few punches and kicked a few policemen but he said he didn’t, sir. They arrested and charged them all for the same crimes.”

“For him,” the governor nodded at Gibbings, “I’ll allow it if he chooses self-improvement as one of his privileges. For Greuder, I’ll have to review surveillance footage of the incident before I decide. I’ll let you know. What did Mr Ditton suggest?”

Eric turned to Gibbings with a grin. “I destroyed your flute and I’m never going to apologise for that, but, how would you like to learn how to make your own?”

Gibbings’ eyes widened. “Make my own? My own flute?”

“Yes, and not a crappy plastic one. It won’t be made of wood, but it will be made of the closest material it’s possible to fabricate. It will not just be a fabricated instrument. I intend to teach only the traditional methods. Hand tools. Lathes. No automation, just good, hard, physical work. The same methods used to make your antique. It requires a lot of skill but bloody hell it’s satisfying. Actually, that’s an idea… Sir, has the flute been recovered from the laundry, yet?”

“I ordered its retrieval the moment the doctor informed me of the incident, why?”

“A scan of it could be a good base for the material we use to make them, sir. I know from reading the book that different woods produce different sound qualities. What he described for that one… Seems the ideal type of wood, sir.”

“Very well, then. I’ll ensure such a scan is added to your materials manifest. We already have a few. Oak, pine and mahogany among them. Is type of wood really so important?”

Eric nodded. “Very much so. Some are incredibly dense, some are soft enough to mark with your thumbnail but they all have different uses, sir.”

Gibbings smiled. “Learn to make my own flute… I agree! But what did you mean, get back at them? How can I get back at the police from in here?”

Eric chuckled. “Simple. They’ve screwed both you and your sister… What they did to me… I will be standing as a witness against them when they stand trial, even if it means being here for months longer than necessary after my retrial.”

“But won’t that mean… If I agree to that… They’ll definitely make sure she ends up here too!”

It was the governor’s turn to grin. “I can place you under protection, Mr Gibbings, but it would mean giving up your name.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simple. Currently, the records have yet to be sent to the central archive. What’s happened here today is still unset. If they don’t know you’ve been sentenced, they may think you’ve fled the country in fear for what you did today, instead. They’ll believe you’re still out there, a free man. That should be enough incentive to keep their side of the bargain regarding your sister. They’ll never know you’re here, but, it does mean some of the privileges you may choose will not come into effect immediately.”

“What? What do you… I don’t understand.”

“As long as they have the freedom to wander this prison unimpeded, you can’t be seen. It’s very likely they’ll make another attempt to remove Mr Unknown here from the picture, to get him sent to block eight and if we can catch them in the act… Well… You may need to remain hidden away in your cell for the first few days… maybe a week, so choose those privileges wisely. The two privileges that will be restricted if you agree to this protection will be contact with the outside world and exit from your cell. Others, such as choice of food and entertainments should keep you comfortable in there.”

“Days, alone? Locked in a cell? Isn’t there any other way?”

“Hmm… There is one, but it is rather drastic.”

“What is it?”

“Not just a change of name, but a change of appearance. Doctor? What would you recommend?”

“I have a few suggestions, sir. One would be a change of racial ancestry. Loss of hair is another. Something all prisoners have to endure anyway, but hair on the head is usually left alone. We could make him bald. Another is the addition of tattoos, sir. Facial tattoos in particular.” He turned to Gibbings. “Your only choice, design and skin tone. Which race would you be most comfortable inhabiting? Indian subcontinent or go for the complete change and opt for the darker shades, African or Australian aborigine? I suppose that would also affect the choice of name you were given.”

“I don’t want any tattoos! They’re permanent! I’d… It’s… Please! Not that!”

“Why? A completely new look and you know now you’re not going to see the outside in a very long time. It may even allow you to blend in with the rest of the prison population more if you come up with a few interesting stories to explain them.”

The governor sighed. “I do agree with Mr Gibbings on the subject of tattoos, Doctor Conrad. They are often associated with violent crime and we don’t want to add those to his record, now, do we? We want to give him a somewhat… respectable past life.”

“We do?”

“For one thing, violent crime would bar him from his woodworking course and for another, we don’t want to draw attention to him. Embezzlement from a charity resulting in the deaths of a few needy individuals would get him grey seven just as much as stabbing a few people in a pub brawl.”

The doctor nodded. “Just the change of race, then. It would mean after your treatments, you wouldn’t be bound by the constraints the governor just described.”

“And this change of skin tone?”

“Would be just as permanent as the tattoos. You’ll effectively be a completely different person, externally at least.”

“You… you don’t expect me to put on an accent, do you? Or try to fake a different voice? What if I slip up?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. Fifth-generation Indians often have the same accent as everyone else in their area. A different voice would be part of the package. A slight change in the tension of your vocal folds, you wouldn’t even recognise your own voice. A few other minor changes, too.”

He gulped. “And this will protect my sister?”

“Seems to be the best way, don’t you think? Your life outside’s gone anyway, so it’s not like you’ve got anything to lose. Why not leave everything else behind. A totally new person, new name, new look, new everything.”

“So, even she won’t recognise me?”

“Not until you explain, but that won’t be possible until after Galloway and his colleagues have been tried and convicted. The police can not be allowed to know. We’ll put you in as a surprise witness. The defence advocate will be informed, of course, but he will not be permitted to disclose the information to anyone else.”

“I agree! Oh my god, I hope they get it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. We’ve got enough to get Galloway himself convicted to black. His underlings are unlikely to be in a shade lighter than yours. The more evidence we produce, the more witnesses, the more likely a conviction and the more severe the punishment. Now, skin tone. Racial heritage?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll go for Indian, sir. One of the middle tones, not the… the…” he shuddered. “Not the darker ones.”

“You realise they dispensed with their caste system years ago…”

“I’ve still heard of prejudice against those that were designated untouchable, though, sir. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that even happened here, hidden in their communities at least.”

“Religious heritage?”

“But… I’m an atheist… Everyone is! Even them!”

“It will influence your name. Those of an Islamic background have different surnames and often different first names than those of Hindu or Sikh, even if they don’t follow those religions anymore.”

“Really? Hmm… I… Think I’ll go Hindu then. Don’t know why… I suppose I always found an elephant-headed god quite amusing.”

The governor waved his hand over the desk. “Computer, bring up a protection template based on the following criteria. Age, twenty-four, heritage, Indian slash Hindu. Place of birth, Southwark, south London. Criminal record, five counts of embezzlement, all charities. The deprivation of those funds resulted in the loss of life of five homeless men. Overlay the template onto prisoner 50096402’s personal record and lock.”

“Confirmed.”

“Gibbings, place your hand…” The governor chuckled. “I do apologise…” He stood and walked around the desk holding up a computer. “I’m going to place this in your left hand. Close it, press it into your palm.”

“Yes, sir.”

The governor did so. “Computer, overwrite the personal details on that chip with the ones on the protection template just saved.”

“Update complete.”

Eric’s jaw dropped. “It’s that easy?”

“Of course.”

“But you said you couldn’t change my name.”

He sighed. “It’s unusual, but some people change their names too many times. I believe it was mentioned that yours was triple confirmed. For the average citizen, their name is only confirmed once. The final one locks it permanently. I’m sorry, but, we did say yours was immutable, didn’t we?”

Eric sighed. “Yes, sir.”

“As for you, forget Gibbings. Your name is now Anit Gupta. You were born in Southwark. Your birthday is the twenty-second of quarnary nineteen ninety-seven and your parents were killed before you were aware of them. You spent your childhood in west Southwark orphanage but the moment you were kicked out at the age of sixteen, you moved to Brighton and got a job as a junior administrator in a local charity. That was your life path from then on, until, two years ago, you started to get greedy. You made a few too many accounting errors and finally got caught in sextilus last year. Oh, and you’ve been in prison now for one year already. Transferred from Brighton. Your full bio will be available on the screen in your cell. I suggest you familiarise yourself with it because it’s the new you.”

Gupta sighed. “I can live with that. Might actually be interesting. Can you recommend any books, sir? I’ll need to understand my heritage a little more than a bio.”

“The bio will link to a few books on the history of your new identity.”

Eric smiled. “Here’s an idea for you… Sir, can you arrange for him to be… inserted into the flute course, even though it’s already begun?”

Gupta shifted uncomfortably. “But I already know how to play the flute. Wouldn’t’ve been able to teach it otherwise, would I?”

“You’re eventually going to learn how to make your own and what better way to have a reason for being able to play it than taking those classes? It is something new, after all, making one. You’ll need to fake being bad, or at least worse than you are now. Try to match the level of the second row and then improve to match us. Join us in our practices to explain the speed of improvement. You’ll also be provided with a flute to play in your cell, remember.”

The governor grinned. “Having been in prison for a year already, the familiarity with the flute can be easily explained, as can the insertion into the class halfway through a course. He was already on a similar course in Brighton. That’s an excellent idea, Unknown. Consider it done. Now, I think it’s time you accompanied the doctor to the prison hospital.”

Eric glanced at Gupta and his eyes widened. “Sir, what if… What about the guards, sir. They might recognise him and if one of them’s fake… Actually, come to think of it...” He looked at the two guards in the room. “What about them?”

“Blood and shit! Good point, Unknown. Computer, show current surveillance of this room with a thermal overlay.”

The screen that popped up showed everyone in the room. None had the blurry void where the face should be.

The governor nodded, satisfied and opened a drawer. He took something from it, walked up to Gupta and pulled a black hood over his head.

“What the… What…”

“Mr Gupta, this is a security measure. Mr Unknown here just pointed out the only flaw in our plan. The hood you’re wearing is to hide your features. It’s normally only used for the most depraved prisoners when they’re first transferred to their cell, as a protection for them. After transfer, they normally remain there until the chances of recognition have diminished and quite frankly, they deserve it. Be it weeks, or months, by the time they’re out, they’re can usually plead ignorance about who they used to be. They just look a little like the perverts. Instead of an immediate transfer to the hospital, I’ll put you in block one. The medical staff are the only ones capable of opening the cells after lights out. No guards will be on duty. The doctor can collect you and transfer you to the hospital, then.”

“But I was teaching block three! He will be too, won’t he?” he nodded at Eric.

“Block one’s just a temporary measure. A cover. Once you’re out of hospital…” The governor returned his attention to Eric again. “You’d willingly help this man?”

“Before, I would’ve been more inclined to flatten his nose the moment I was in the grey, but now, yes, sir.”

“I’ll see to it you’re next-door neighbours, then. In the meantime, I’ll permit you to communicate with him in block one. Suspend your workshop activities for the day, Unknown. You have a lot on.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Gupta turned to the doctor. “Can you at least tell me what you’re going to do to me?”

The doctor smiled. “I suppose it’s only fair. When you’re admitted to the hospital, you’ll be sedated. A few minor operations to adjust your vocal folds, to modify your facial features.” He held his hand up when Gupta’s eyes widened in alarm. “Don’t worry, you won’t suffer any pain. We’ll also treat you with a specially designed retrovirus. This will modify the genetic switch that tells your tetronites to produce more tetronase pigment. It’s a simple procedure. Takes a few days for the effects to complete. By the time you wake up, you’ll be free to enter the general prison population.”

Eric winced as he attempted to shrug again. “What’s tetronase, sir?”

“I thought everyone… Let me guess… Different scientific terms again? It’s the pigment in one’s skin. For people with white or pale skin, it’s produced more as protection from… From what you call ultraviolet light.”

“Ah…. We call it melanin. Gotcha.”

“I think it’s time for both of you to return to your cells, don’t you? Was there anything else before you go?”

“Not that I…” Eric paused. “Actually, come to think of it… Maybe one thing, sir. I’ve seen the list of all the crimes I was convicted of, but I don’t have much in the way of details. Could you release everything to me?”

“But some of that’d be enough to turn even the most robust of stomachs! Why would you want to put yourself through that?”

“If I could study some of those crimes and come up with the actual culprit, solve them, it’d really show them up. Look at this, a man untrained in law enforcement accused of every crime they couldn’t solve and he’s done their job for them. Just goes to show how useless and incompetent they are, and he did it while he was in prison. Should set the cat among the pigeons, sir. I admit it. I’m one to hold a grudge and they’ve denied me a fair trial, tried to kill me, had me sentenced to life imprisonment and still they’re trying to get rid of me. I want them to suffer, sir, and if that can’t be physical, I’ll just have to settle for making them look like idiots.”

The governor chuckled. “I’ll see to it those files are in your personal space.”

“Thank you, sir.”

A smile tweaked Gupta’s lips. “Could I help?”

“Two heads are better than one.” Eric smiled. “You’re welcome to join me in it.”