2020-05-24 - spike - Trapped again part twenty-three

Author: spike
Title: Trapped again. Part twenty-three.
Date: 24 May 2020

As Eckie's restoring the stories archive and allowing now content, Eric's time in prison continues. No comments section anymore. No voting either, but if you do want to say something, you can still contact me via email or recon. slave.spike@gmail.com or recon username slavespike.

***

Eric collapsed onto the chair beside Howard with the widest grin he’d had in a long time. “Oh god, that was a good day.”

How’s eyes boggled. “Good? This morning, you were fuckin’ livid!”

Eric collapsed into laughter. “You don’t know the half of it. I said I’d be fine with the doctor backing me up didn’t I? When I told Gibbings I’d destroyed the flute… Five hundred and fifty demerits. Fifty for the destruction of his precious flute… Turns out it wasn’t prison issue. It was an antique worth over twenty thousand quid!”

“Twenty… Twenty thousands? For a bloody stick you blow in?”

“Yes! Oh god, you should’ve seen his face. Of course, when I threw a few choice insults his way and he issued the five hundred, we both got summoned to the governor’s office. He was on my side from the start. That moron’ll never teach again. He’s been blacklisted. Every government department under the sun, no chance of working for any of them, ever. That’s not the best bit though.”

“What is?”

“Remember when I said I was glad I was black because I wouldn’t want to live out there with nothing?”

They nodded.

“I had a pre-trial hearing today. Looks like I might be grey soon. I’ll be getting out after all.”

“But you said… What’s changed?”

“The governor didn’t just release those files to the prison population, my arrest, the,” he made air quotes, “interrogation. He released them to the public too. Look at this!” Eric placed his hand on the panel. “Accounts.”

The screen popped up… Privileges, all. Locks, seven. Bank account… Eric pointed and chuckled.

“Five hundred and sixty two thousand? How the hell?”

“Public sympathy. A few people set up multipay accounts, or whatever. I’ve got it made out there! Almost hope I do get out now.”

“Almost! Are you insane?”

“I know how not to hope. I’ll only be disappointed if my trail doesn’t go as planned, after all, so, I’m content to be where I am. Once I’m out, hope’s back on the table. Until then, I’ve accepted I’m here for life. Best way to deal with things like this. Besides, I like it here.”

Howard chuckled. “My god, though. That’s a better scam than any I ever pulled. You might walk out with a million!”

Eric nodded. “The clerk of the court did say it was still increasing. There was one thing I was disappointed with.”

“What?”

“I was almost hoping the governor would’ve had that bastard arrested on the spot. Especially when I found I might be grey soon… I still want to punch his nose into the back of his skull. Won’t get the chance now. Speaking of well needed violence… Where’s Cerol?”

“Think she’s practising with your friends.”

Eric sagged. “OK, two disappointments, then. I won’t be able to until Ditton gets back. I doubt we’ll get another teacher until then after what happened with the last one.”

“You really like it don’t you?”

“Now that I’m getting to grips with it, yes. An added bonus… Once I am grey, I’ll be able to practice in my cell like the rest of ‘em.” He stood. “Think I’ll go and relax. Have a celebratory hot chocolate and read a book. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

How nodded.

“Oh, before I go… From now on, when you leave your cells, lock them. After what happened to me…” Eric shuddered. “And the governor’s agreed to relax our instructions a little. Don’t lock the moment you step in during green time.”

Mal shrugged. “Why?”

“Just… Search your cell while the light’s still green. It’ll give you a chance to chuck anything you do find in there out before you lock it.”

“And he’s agreed?”

“If I hadn’t contacted the doctor in a panic, I would’ve been in eight right now. So, yes.”

How’s eyes widened. He nodded. “I will. And I’ll tell that lot the same, too.”

“Thanks. I don’t want anyone to see eight. I’ve heard it’s even worse than the induction suggested, so… Be fucking careful. I’ll see you in the gym.”

When he got to his cell, he practised what he’d just preached. He turned the place upside down searching for contraband, even going so far as to feel around the holes he stuck his hands through in the shower cubicle. Mattress off, pillow, check the insides of the spare slippers, he came up with nothing so remade the bed.

“Cell, can you associate a name with a prison number or address?”

“Affirmative.”

“Associate the name Philip with one dash forty-seven and Anit with 50096402. Call Anit and Doctor Conrad.”

Anit appeared immediately. He looked up and smiled. “Where’ve you been? It feels like hours?”

“Keep myself busy, remember? A little reading, pre-trial hearing and then spent the rest of the day assisting the gym instructor.”

“Pre-trial? How did it go?”

“Pretty good. Oh god, though. When I played that recording we uncovered, the clerk looked like he was going to throw up. I’ve called the doctor, he should be joining the chat soon. Might be able to start making more progress on the case.”

“Really? Why’s a doctor interested?”

“Does it matter? The fact that he is means we get access to news archives through him. How are you adjusting?”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but, I think I might like the new me. So much more culture, such depth. Incredible variety. Not too keen on their traditional music though.”

“Your traditional music, Anit. Not theirs. Stop thinking of them as them, as something else. You’re going to be one of them in a few days, so embrace it. One of you, not one of them. Become it. If anything, I’m one of them from now on, to you at least.”

“I’d never thought about it like that before… I… I could try to learn to like it I suppose but”

“Why bother? Just because you have a heritage doesn’t mean you have to embrace every aspect of it. You’re British. Just as British as anyone else. Born here, remember? As were your ancestors all the way back to your great grandparents. You don’t need to like the music.”

He nodded.

“Another thing… I’ve not really looked, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if some of them in here congregate together… If they do, join them.”

“But… But what if I don’t fit in?”

“Then explain to them. You only began to embrace your culture after you left the orphanage. You weren’t raised as a part of it but now, you want to embrace what was denied to you for so long. It’ll explain all manner of mistakes you might make when talking to them.”

“Oh shit, that’s clever.”

Eric grinned. “I know. There’s one more thing, depending on how deep you want to go, but I don’t know if they… Hang on… Cell, menu, self improvement, languages.”

The screen split and list appeared.

“Languages?”

“If you want to dive in headlong…”

“Hmm… It did say the name Gupta’s one of the most prevalent surnames. Even listed the regions and percentages.”

“So, which region did it say your ancestors were from?”

“The Punjab, so that’d be either Hindi or Punjabi.”

Eric shrugged. “Why Hindi?”

“Most common language from what it said. I’ll look into it. Do as you suggested, keep myself busy. I might be speaking it in a year or two. I hadn’t considered the language.” He sighed. “I still can’t believe this is happening. I’m in prison and destined to become a completely different person. The weird thing is, I’m looking forward to it now.”

“Good. Bloody good way to see things. A whole new life, discovering it from day one.” Eric nodded at the screen. “And Hindi’s listed. No mention of Punjabi though. Suppose you could study that in your own time, you’ve got plenty of it. If it isn’t covered in any of the media, you may be able to request it.”

He nodded. “Cell, why is Hindi listed but Punjabi isn’t?”

“Hindi is the fourth most common language on the planet, spoken by over five hundred million people after Spanish, English and Mandarin Chinese. The prison does not have the resources or space to teach every language.”

“So, Hindi it is, then.”

Eric grinned. “Cell, does that include written as well as spoken?”

“Affirmative.”

“Hmm… I… I never could get to grips with it… Are there classes for written Chinese?”

“Mandarin grade one includes the basics of the written language.”

Eric sighed. “Maybe not, then. I suppose I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”

“Why would you want to learn how to read Chinese? You realise it’s one of the most difficult languages to learn?”

“To speak, yes. I imagine all the glyph based languages are pretty much equal for reading. Just out of curiosity… Cell, Zhe shi zhongwen de fangyan? Yong yingyu huifu.”

“The words spoken resemble Mandarin, but with an unknown accent.”

“Definitely don’t need to learn the spoken one. I’ll only be wasting my time.”

“What did you… I…”

“I asked which version of Chinese but to reply in English. Now I know it’s not Cantonese.”

“How can you speak a language but not know what it is?”

“Ah. Well, that’s all part of my story. It just never came up. Said I’d wait before telling you that, didn’t I?”

A couple of minutes later, the screen split again and the doctor appeared.

“Ah, you’re already talking. Good. Now, what do you need?”

Eric smiled. “You heard the torture recording, sir. Accidents with a female fatality and the involvement of Hennesey. Period of time, around five years ago, give or take a year.”

Conrad nodded. “Computer, search for any story featuring the name Hennesey between the years twenty fourteen to twenty sixteen with the emphasis on fatalities and accidents. Mute and list as text.”

Eric grinned. “Would’ve never got a word in edgewise with it listing them vocally, sir. Did it come up with anything?”

The doctor nodded. “Quite a lot actually. Seems he was involved in a risky pastime.”

“Sky surfing. I know, sir. I thought this world was risk averse? After what Anit said about the grapplescale he used to get out of the alley… How many deaths are involved in this sport?”

“It’s not that common. If it was, it probably wouldn’t feature so heavily in the news. Think most of the stories are non-fatal and appear to just repeat each other. I can identify three fatalities in that time period.”

“Which one was a woman, sir? Or was there more than one?”

The doctor reached up to tap, scroll, expand. He nodded. “Got it. Verinka Southern. Age, 21. Death by ground impact at terminal velocity after a sky surfer lost control and got tangled in her parachute lines. He had to cut himself free, she didn’t deploy her reserve in time, he did. And yes, it was Hennesey.”

“Can you gather everything you can find out about this Verinka and the accident, sir? Put it into another folder and send it to both of us. Looks like we might have some digging to do. Could be anyone, boyfriend, husband, father, brother. Maybe even just a friend. Everyone involved in both her life, the sport or the incident?”

“I’ll start on that now. It should be with you before lights out.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll hold off on doing any more investigations into this one until Anit’s out of sick bay, sir.”

The doctor nodded. “I’ll see you later.” He turned slightly. “And I’ll see you after lights out.”

The doctor vanished and Anit’s frame expanded to fill the vacated space.

“So what now? Start on the next one?”

“I think it’s safe to knock that on the head until you’re my next door neighbour, Anit. How about… Yes… Cell, copy the contents of my woodwork and instrument manufacture folders to Anit’s home space. You might as well get a head start on it. I’ll be trying to keep up with the others, but I won’t be able to practice again until Ditton gets back, so I’ll just have to read up on more theory.”

Anit sagged in his chair. “I’m sorry.”

“Please, stop apologising. You were doing it for your sister. Cell, end comms.” * * * Eric stood to attention by his bed again as the door swept open and the guard entered.

His eyes widened as Mr. Bedford entered his view.

This time, Bedford didn’t even glance at him, he just walked around him and looked down at the bed, checking something off on the screen before him.

The moment his back was turned, Eric locked onto his image, shifted and leaned back into the corridor.

The change was immediate. From prison guard to scruffy street clothes and that familiar black, featureless hood.

Eric snapped his vision back to normal with a grin.

“Good morning, sir. I must say, you had a lucky escape yesterday, sir.”

The guard turned and glowered. “Don’t even think about… Lucky escape, how?”

“Those shit-for-brains in the police planted something in my cell two nights ago, sir. One of them was posing as you. I was the one who spotted it when I was summoned to the governors office for destroying that moron of a teacher’s precious flute. According to the governor, if I hadn’t pointed it out, you would’ve been wearing what I am by the end of the week, sir.”

“What do you mean, posing…?”

“Holographic disguise, sir. Unless you’ve got a twin at least, it’s the only explanation.”

“And just what is it that you spotted?”

“Right hand, sir. Not left. To open the door, sir. Added to that we followed his progress for a while, chatting to the teacher on his way out. Everything’s recorded in here, sir. You know that.”

“I suppose I owe you my thanks, then. How do you know I’m me this time?”

Eric shrugged. “That puss-filled sack of shit would’ve never been stupid enough to use the same disguise twice, sir.”

The guard closed his eyes and sighed. “Out. You know where to go.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Eric marched over to the door, opened it, and when he was out, he collapsed into giggles. “Cell, close, lock and send a message to the governor marked urgent.”

The door swished closed, the bolt boomed into place and it spoke. “Please state message.”

“The fake Mr. Bedford’s in my cell now, sir. I’ve just locked it from the outside, so if you revoke his chip access, he’ll be trapped in there. We’ve caught him in the act, sir.”

“Message sent.”

The next voice to emerge from the door was the governor’s. “How do you know it’s the fake one, Unknown?”

Eric glanced down the walkway. A few prisoners were emerging from their cells, so he leaned in and lowered his voice. “Sir, remember when I told you about the ghosts? I can do that any time, now I know how to control it, sir, and I see people as they are when I’m looking at them from another world. Even if the world’s only a millimetre away. Holographic projections don’t travel like that, sir. He’s wearing scruffy street clothes and the black hood again, sir.”

“Computer, thermal overlay on cell four dash twelve. Oh, bloody shit, you’re right! Computer, revoke all access rights to prison officer number PN5320, block all communication devices within that cell and flood it with quadrahydroline gas.”

“Knock out gas?”

“That’s one way to put it, yes.”

“Is being caught in the act even better than a confession? Does this mean instant black, just as Gibbings got instant grey seven yesterday, sir?”

“Yes. Yes, it is. And yes, it does. We’ll move him to four dash fifteen. That will be his new home from now on, if you want to greet him. I’ll allow you to witness what happened later, but now, go to the gym. You’ll be called back to your cell so you can see what happens next in a while, once it’s been purged.”

“Sir… Can you do the protection thing to him? Maybe even have the doctor alter his appearance too?”

“Why?”

“So the police can’t find him, sir. More to protect us from them rather than him, this time.”

The governor chuckled. “And did you have any names in mind?”

“How about Nothing, sir. First name, Void? Or Null? And triple confirm too, so he knows how I feel.”

“You are a vindictive shit, aren’t you, Unknown? But I like it. Being black it doesn’t matter what identity he possesses. He’ll never see the outside world again, anyway.”

“I did say I was one to hold grudges, sir. Couldn’t think of a more fitting person to do it to, apart from maybe Galloway himself. You’ll need the doctor anyway, sir. He’ll have to remove the fake chip. The one that allows him to pass as Mr. Bedford. Once that’s destroyed you may be able to find out where the real Bedford is.”

The governor sighed. “Damn, I hadn’t even considered that. Thank you, Unknown. Everything you suggested, done. Of course, he’ll have to remain sedated in the sick bay for his transformation, so you won’t get to witness his sentencing until he’s awake. I’ll push for Doctor Conrad to go for an African skin tone and hair along with the most extreme facial tattoos, too.”

Eric chuckled. “Little bit on the vindictive side yourself, sir. I couldn’t agree more. Thank you, sir. I’d better get to the gym. Is Mr. Ditton due back yet, sir? Is the music class back on?”

“Not yet. The cell will inform you when it is.”

“I’ll spend most of the day clearing the workshops again, then, sir.”

“What are they set up for, just out of curiosity? The ones you have cleared?”

“First one, metalwork. The second, plastics and fabrication from what I could tell. Injection moulding and things like that. The third, art studio. Painting, drawing, sculpture and pottery. The fourth, Bricklaying, plastering and stone masonry. I’m half way through that, sir, then two more to go. With my luck, wood will be the last one. Sod’s law, sir.”

“Who’s law? What?”

“Couple of different variations, sir. Murphy’s law or Sod’s law. Basically they state that if anything can go wrong, it will, in the most inconvenient way possible, sir. People always blame Murphy’s or Sod’s law when things don’t go the way they’d like, sir.” * * * He’d just completed cleaning and rearranging the workshop he’d been interrupted on the previous day when the order to return to his cell came.

He stepped inside, activated, and before he could even take his seat after dumping the overalls into the laundry chute, the governor appeared on the screen.

“Ah, good. You know why you received the order, so… Here it is…”

The screen split and the other half showed Eric standing to attention as the fake guard entered. He walked around Eric, checked off a few things and the moment his back was turned, Eric’s head vanished for a moment.

The governor chuckled. “Very clever. Was it just because it was Bedford or have you been doing that with each of them?”

“It wasn’t just that it was Bedford, sir. He was acting wrong, sir. Bedford was amiable. Even friendly. That moron was hostile from the start, even berating me for having the nerve to greet him, sir.”

The governor continued to watch the underhanded insults directed at the policeman, the flicker of rage in fake-Bedford’s eyes and Eric’s dismissal from the cell.

The moment the guard was alone he stared at the now closed door as the boom issued from it. “What an utter shit. I can’t wait to see him get it.” He went through the motions of searching, pulling off the sheets, tipping the mattress, throwing Eric’s uniforms all over the cell, then reached into his trouser pocket, thrust the same hand into Eric’s pillowcase and when it emerged, it held something. “Get out of this one you bubo!”

Eric shrugged. “What did he fail to plant this time, sir?”

“A ring. Gem encrusted. We’ve had it analysed and the computer states its value lies somewhere between five hundred and a thousand pounds. It appeared to be a missing piece from a burglary hall they recovered. One of the crimes on your rap sheet, in fact.”

“So, not only do they try to fit up innocent people, they’re thieves themselves? Stealing directly from police evidence? I’d love to see them try to explain how I managed to smuggle a ring into my cell from a crime I supposedly committed when I entered this prison with nothing. How the hell did they get the job in the first place? Don’t you have a department that’s meant to watch over police behaviour?”

“There is such a department, but it seems it’s ineffective. Maybe when all their crimes finally come to light during their trial that may begin to change. Now, pay attention…”

Eric nodded.

The guard pressed his right hand on the door. “Open.”

“This cell is locked.”

“Well bloody unlock it then.”

“Unable to comply. You do not have permission.”

“Shit! Unlock!”

“Unable to comply. You do not have permission.”

“Why don’t I have permission?”

“Your contracted work period ended with your final duty cycle at end of shift yesterday. Database updates have just been applied, prison wide. All authorisations are void until your next duty cycle commences in two weeks time. This cell is now classed as unoccupied until the return of prisoner 50095223 and will be deactivated.”

The bed slid into the wall as did the toilet and desk. All wall panels slid shut with a hiss and a snap. Apart from the bedding and clothes on the floor, it was just a blank, white room.

He placed his right hand on the door again. “Activate!”

The cell gave no response.

“Activate! Cell, activate! I order you to activate!”

Eric chuckled. “That’s the story I told the blacks, when I tried to activate the police cell, sir. My excuse, the taser fried my chip, sir.”

“Emergency contact. Galloway.” The policeman stared around in a panic. “Galloway!” He poked his finger in his ear. “Galloway… What the shit is goin’ on?” He looked down at his other hand and sighed. “We’ll be neck deep in shit for this if we don’t come up with an excuse.” He placed it on the door. “Security override, authorisation, Lieutenant Baz Ferrin. Nine six five two one. Unlock.”

Almost immediately, the boom sounded again.

“Open!”

“This cell is locked.”

“But I just unlocked it. Unlock!”

Another boom issued from the door.

Eric chuckled. “I take it that was you, sir? Relocking the door?”

“Yes. It kept him distracted just long enough. Watch.”

His hand slid off the door. He didn’t look well, all of a sudden. He blinked. He shook his head. He collapsed to his knees and then fell head first into the door before sliding to the floor unconscious.

A minute later, the door slid open to reveal two men in overalls, blue ones this time. They began to strip him. The moment they removed his jacket, it resumed it’s normal, scruffy appearance. As they continued, one of them flickered and took on the form of Bedford while the newest inmate resumed his natural appearance, just as Eric had seen him.

The other one pointed and laughed.

“What?”

“Keep that. In fact, put it on. You can carry him down to sick bay. You’ll look a lot less conspicuous than me doing it.”

“What are you t… What the… Aahhh… Mememememe…. Why do I sound like Bedford?”

“Because he did? Look at your hand!”

He held it in up, a bare hand where a moment before it’d been gloved and recoiled. “Oh shit, what did I take that did this? This is amazing! I’ve never seen one in action before.”

“You know how illegal they are. The belt, put it on.”

He nodded and buckled it around his waist before continuing.

Finally the hood came off and Eric nodded. “My arresting officer… I’ll have some fun with him in the gym, sir.”

“If he gets that far, Unknown. We want him out of the way, let’s make that permanent, if possible. It’s well within prison regulations to make this suggestion. Goad him.”

“Into attacking me? So he ends up in eight?”

“He seemed determined that should be your fate, so, yes.”

“Gladly, sir. Could I ask for a little… immunity, sir? Not for me, but if I told a few greys we’d got a policeman here they’ll be able to poke him with little more than insults, sir.”

“Now that is against prison regulations, but in his case I’ll make an exception… I’ll wipe all records of this conversation once completed. I will order the guards to look the other way, but don’t let it get out of hand. He won’t emerge from his cell immediately upon being discharged from the hospital anyway. Two days in his cell before his first gym session. You will have access via the screens.”

The stripping continued and when the newly disguised guard hauled the imposter up and threw him over his shoulder, the naked form vanished.

“Shitting blood, that thing’s good! It only imaged Bedford! It must’ve been programmed to hide anything else! I thought they were more intelligent than that?”

“Works for us though. No record of this turd ever being in this cell, or us carrying him to sick bay. Let’s get down there.” The other guard slapped the door. “Open.”

They stepped into the alcove and the door slid shut behind them.

“Every time I’ve seen one of those disguises before, they didn’t hide what was picked up. Well, apart from the invisible arm, trick, but I thought that was just because the arm was disguised to be in a sling, sir.”

The governor nodded. “That is how they normally work. They must’ve specially modified one to hide anything carried, just so they could pull the shoplifting trick. If anything, it’s more worrying. I’ll report what I witnessed of course. It seems they’ve been arresting and convicting innocents using that trick for quite a while if they have a piece of equipment dedicated to the task. It does explain how the ones I’ve spoken to ended up here, though.”

“Thanks for letting me see that, sir.”

“It’s only fair, Unknown. It’s your life on the line, after all. Hopefully, when their man never returns, they may abandon their plans for you. I, of course, will deny all knowledge of the event until their trial. Bedford just failed to show up for work yesterday and hasn’t been seen since, unless we manage to locate him.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve already told the others in the flute class that Gibbings was blacklisted rather than arrested, sir. That he was expelled from the prison and will never work for any government department again.”

“Good. In fact, that’s a bloody good one. Good thinking, Unknown. Now, I think it’s time you resumed what you were doing. A guard awaits you with your overalls again.”

“Permission to still tell the greys he’s ex-police, sir.”

“Granted, but he is not Ferrin. He’s another prison transfer, this time from Manchester, which is where you recognise him from. Your little encounter in the alleyway.”

“Yes, sir. But he’s bound to try to claim otherwise.”

“And his chip will announce to anyone he attempts to show that his name is nothing and has been for the past two years. His crime, murder of several suspects when they refused to remain silent or vocally confess.”

“What about the tattoos?”

“That one’s simple. Lifers don’t care about outside appearance anymore. He got them in Prison. It’s strictly against the rules of course, but some prisoners do engage in a few artistic endeavours and ink and needles are quite simple for lesser greys to smuggle in.”

“I thought drawing had died out completely, from what the Doctor Anderson said. Without a computer at least.”

“He obviously doesn’t mix with the criminal classes.”

Eric chuckled. “Very true, sir. I’ll start on the next workshop now. Well, once I’ve had a shower.”

The governor smiled, nodded and the screen went blank.