Deep Yellow (10 page)

The guards made a
special visit that morning. “Just making sure it looks good for the
show,” she was told. Other guards just happened to pop their heads
around the doorway. Brell ate her last prison breakfast in her
cell, as the Overseer did not want any last-minute trouble from the
other inmates.

She stuffed a few of
her belongings into the one allowed bag. Hesitating over what to do
with the messages from Carac, she held them in her hand for some
time, before reaching a decision to throw them in the corner of the
cell for the cleaner bot to dispose of.

The chime sounded and
the door beam disengaged.

"Prisoner Sturlach,
stand to," the guard said in a more pronounced way than normal. A
woman with a cheesy smile appeared.

"Hello, I’m Argenta
from Elytia Holo Beamcasting Company. I’ll be following your
movements from here to the security doors."

Brell looked at her.
Was she a virtual holo or real? She looked like a clone of Flip,
with her black straight hair, orange/white skin, sparkly teeth, a
sparkly blue jacket and dress. She was certainly sparkly and
already annoying.

"Now, when we go live,
the door opens and you are to be brought out of your cell, through
the prison, and into the transport carrier. After a short journey
to the dock, you will go on board our cruiser, and when everyone is
collected, off we go to the Challenge studios. Takes around eight
hours. It won’t do any harm to smile and wave. You didn’t comb your
hair much this morning. Ready in a couple of moments, then?"

Brell ran her hands
back through her hair. She wasn’t listening and was relieved when
Argenta left the cell. She sat down and bit her nails, not knowing
what to do with herself.

"Prisoner Sturlach,
stand to," announced a guard. The door disengaged, revealing the
Overseer, the annoying reporter, and assorted prison staff who had
assembled in front of the cell. After the hard beam cuffs were
applied, she was taken outside to a gaggle of people and floating
cameras silently capturing everything.

"So Overseer, we are
just about to send Brell off on the first part of her journey, your
thoughts?"

"The staff and inmates
wish her the best." Argenta paused, waiting for something else to
be said. Silence.

Argenta looked into
the camera and raised an eyebrow, "Brell, these are your first
steps of a new journey, any thoughts?"

"No.”

"Okay then, shall we
..." She nodded to the Overseer, who motioned to a guard. A narrow
half-crescent band was placed behind Brell's neck. The guard seemed
to take her time. Was she enjoying this or just playing to the
audience? A small beam emitted out of the crescent ends, connecting
together around the front of her neck. This was a failsafe hard
beam device, which could send the inmate into instant
unconsciousness if they tried to escape.

Argenta gave a running
commentary, which included reminding the audience that Brell would
be regarded as a convicted inmate serving her term, albeit on
another planet in a game show.

"Police Corps,
together with Prison Corps officers, will take care of all security
arrangements."

Brell peered around at
the cameras that flitted around. Were her mother and old colleagues
watching? How about Gorst? Pushing her feelings aside, she walked
slowly down the stairway and took a quick glance back at her cell.
There were guards and staff in front and behind her. No doubt,
Williams was communicating via Argenta's implant, giving
instructions to choreograph this as much as possible. A few guards
were in the free association area standing near to some selected
inmates, Brell noted. They had locked up the Colony 09 inmates. The
small crowd clapped and cheered Brell as she slowly descended step
by careful step. She did her best to nod towards them, despite the
restriction of the neck bracelet. There were only a few inmates
that she could sensibly talk to; she would miss their humour. If
nothing else, today gave the girls on Wing 90 a break from the
normal drudge.

They stopped by the
security door.

"Well, there we are.
She gives nothing away. Will she be a winner or a loser? Who knows?
Keep watching, we will shortly be joining Flip, who is with the
next challenger." She paused, then dropped her smile.

"Thank you everyone.
It went well." Looking at Brell, she said, "You could have smiled a
bit more."

Brell just stared back
at her. Argenta took a step back.

***

"Come, on let’s go,"
said the guard pushing Brell forward. Eventually they made it
outside and into a vehicle area, where Brell was placed into a
prison transporter. As the van glided away, Brell watched the
prison block disappear from sight with an unexpected sense of
loss.

At the port, the
guards transferred her onto the prison cruiser, which would take
all the prisoners up to the
Good Grace
star ship berthed in
space dock. Up a ramp and after a right turn, she emerged into a
narrow corridor lined with cells on both sides. As she approached
the end of the corridor, Brell noticed that the end cell beam door
was engaged, presumably occupied.

"In there and wait for
the others."

Ushered into the cell
next door, she stood still whilst the beam cuffs were removed, but
the collar remained on. The holding cell was narrow with a long
bench, a small privy and sink. The guard left, the beam entrance
engaged, and there was silence.

***

Brell sat back on the
bench, rested her head against the wall, and closed her eyes for a
while. The beam gurgle of the privy and sink in the cell next door
could just be heard above the hum of the air vents. She wondered
who might be in there and tapped the wall a couple of times, but
received nothing in return.

There were some
footsteps and low talking in the corridor.

"In there and wait for
the others.” She heard the activation of the door beam, then a
bench creak and the guard’s receding footsteps. Over a period of an
hour, others arrived, but Brell could not work out who was who.

Until Brookko made his
entrance.

It started with the
sound of more footsteps and a male voice shouting out.

"I smell a lady in
here. Well, when I mean lady, I mean a Corpswoman, who has spent
years in prison. Just seen you on the Beams. All that pent-up
frustration. Don't worry, I'm sure there'll be some time for free
association." He finished with a whiny throaty laugh.

"In there," the
guard's voice said, more strongly than before.

"Alright, alright,
winner coming through."

P-zap
.

There was silence
after that; he must have received a small jolt. If she had counted
right, they had left him until last, did not want him to stay in
the holding cell too long.

"Prepare for
take-off,” came the general announcement.

Brell felt the low
rumble of the AG engines whirling into their first gear through her
feet and body, something she had not felt for a long time. The
vibration was pleasing; it reminded her of the times when she went
on leave. Now it was a one-way ticket to the unknown.

Carac, two cells away from Brell, sat on the
bed with his back to the wall. He breathed lightly and licked his
lips as the engines changed sound in preparation for deep space
travel. Though relieved to have left his prison cell, he did not
enjoy space travel. Absent-mindedly, he brushed his hand on the bed
sheet and settled back. Recalling one of his most memorable days
always took his mind off space travel.

***

"Boss, we've found
it," Jojo said, unable to hide his excitement.

"How much?" Carac
said.

"Ten tonnes, at
least."

"Best way to extract
it?"

"I'll put Team 25 on
it. They are not the brightest lot, but I'll tell them it is
special ore. They are good workers, and with a pay bonus, they
won't ask any questions. Be transported to surface in normal
containers, but specially marked and coded."

"I will arrange the
heavy transporter. Good job," Carac said, trying to sound calm.
Locardum, an essential requirement in engine drives for space
travel. Its value was huge, to the right buyer, of course.

***

"Drink up, everyone,
you deserve it. I'm also making arrangements to transfer some extra
credits into your accounts for a good job done," Carac said.

Carac sat at his desk
speaking into a receiver cube. To his right, a screen displayed the
interior of a space cruiser. It was a small one used for short
space trips, basic but comfortable enough for a two hour journey to
the nearest leisure moon. Team 25 members held up their drinks,
toasting him.

"I've also got a
present for you. Jojo, if you would, please."

"Okay, boss."

Jojo trotted around,
handing out a credit chip to each man.

"A little something
for gambling and other extras, if you know what I mean." Carac
smiled, his teeth sparkling white.

"Thanks boss, the boys
are very happy."

There was a loud
thanks from the team and some more drinking.

"Okay, enjoy your
trip, you deserve it," Carac finally said.

***

The next recollection
he liked was the moment a news item appeared on one of his office
screens.

“Reports are coming in
of a mid-space accident. A pleasure moon transporter suffered a
catastrophic hull failure after its engine exploded and
disintegrated. All passengers and crew perished. Included in the
dead were Mining Team 25 from Grab, who were on their way to a much
needed vacation.”

Finally, he remembered
his meeting with the seller, a gnarly leather skinned man.

“Third-hand vapour
explosive devices, always reliable, very reliable. Easy to
detonate. No problem, no problem. Let me show you.”

No problem indeed. The
seller had been right.

***

Whilst the Locardum
discovery was memorable in its own right, Carac remembered it for
another reason. On that same day, he was sourcing parts for heavy
mining machines on some out-of-the-way planet called Sabor. It was
not something he tended to do, but it coincided with other business
opportunities. The tour of the factory could not have been more
boring and the food refreshments were inedible. However, he had
negotiated a good deal; they were happy to amend the invoice for
his share of the credits, and obtaining safety certificates was not
a problem. A good day needed an even better evening.

As he walked through
the hotel building, he saw a woman, standing on her own, near the
stairs to his empty hotel suite. As the vibration of the hull was
starting to make him sleepy, he smiled when he thought back to that
woman and her blue skin.

Flip peered around the space docks whilst
puffing on his pipe. It was grey and cold; he should have put on
his outdoor underwear. Hangars, heavy-duty machinery, and repair
pods dotted the outlying area. A strong smell of fuel and grease
filled the air.

Taking a last puff, he
brushed his sparkly blue jacket with his hands and walked towards
the landing pad to take up his position. Williams's voice droned in
the background giving instructions.

Wrinkling his nose and
coughing to clear his throat, he heard Williams announce the ship’s
arrival.

Flip stiffened, then
posed in his usual relaxed stance and smiled.

"Here comes the ship.
In a short while, our seven challengers will emerge from the craft
and we will follow them into their new cells," Flip said.

He continued
commentating as the Good Grace started lowering and manoeuvring its
huge bulk with small engine thrusts and internal anti grav
controls. As the craft gently lowered itself the last remaining
metres, the huge landing struts compressed as they took the
weight.

"And we are down. Soon
our challengers will appear, one by one. We'll be back after this
break."

Flip kept his smile
going until sure the cameras were not live, then got out his pipe
and had a quick puff, followed by another cough.

***

Brell had slept for
some of the flight, but was wide awake when the
Good Grace’s
drive changed pitch as it slowed on approach. Guard activity picked
up; it seemed they were physically checking the cells again.
Nerves, probably. Imagine losing a convicted murderer aboard their
craft before landing, let alone one of them trying to escape. Brell
stood up, stretched her arms, twisted her neck, then touched her
toes. Sitting back down, she waited for touchdown.

***

"And here is Brell
Sturlach, the disgraced Police Corpswoman."

Brell was nudged
forward a few steps onto the top of the pedestrian ramp. The
outside air was at least fresher than inside the Good Grace. She
had no option but to wait her turn, and listen as each inmate was
taken out of their holding cell. Someone had mumbled something,
which she couldn’t quite hear, but there was foot shuffling, door
sliding, beams disengaging, and then silence until the next
one.

She noticed the
cameras trained on her and a sparkly suit announcer commentating on
events. The ridges on the ramp dug into her soft shoes as she
gingerly stepped down it. Her recently applied handcuffs prevented
her from holding the safety rail for balance. One guard walked in
front, two were at the side, and one behind her. Some Police Corps
officers were standing around by the hangar doorway.

It was a typical Space
Corps port and dock. Repair sheds, platforms, huge hangars. Utility
robots walked or wheeled around in amongst gigantic transporters.
She headed towards a huge building with “EHBC – Convict Challenge”
emblazoned on its outside wall. There were a few people watching,
probably workers at the port skulking off to watch events. Away in
the distance, auto cranes silently loaded and unloaded cargo.