by Caleb Fast
The three look through their tears to their friends. They had killed and were to be killed by the beasts beyond the walls. That is the justice system of Paradise Galatia, no matter how one looked at it. They were to be left to fend for themselves against creatures bred from a hundred of years of “science” and inbreeding. The resulting creatures made up a huge variety of killing machines which few live to tell about. When these creatures first arrived, they killed half of the people of the Galatian jungles in a matter of a few months. After nearly a year the galactic superpowers sought to contain the creatures they had created. The result was a hundred-meter-tall wall encircled by the ancient jungles, the prime location for an inescapable prison, Or at least that's what they believe, Clive thinks.
“Alright you three,” Richardson says as he gently helps one of the inmates to their feet, “Up. You heard commander Jenniston.”
When the three are standing, Richardson quietly leads them out of the cell to their certain end, his team in tow.
“As for you,” Jenniston says, facing the remaining prisoners, “You’ve missed your breakfast. It’s too bad too, I heard they had protein bars today. Straight to the mines with you. Move it.”
•••••••••••••••
Clive and the others shuffle by the cafeteria longingly as they make their way to the west wing of the prison for the morning shift. Every corridor has an automated security check, Clive flashes his prison ID and walks through, leading his line of inmate into the mines. As he was told by the last Mr. X, ‘Some men are born leaders, others are thrust into that position,’ Clive was one of those forced leaders. Mr. X was the title given to the person responsible for planning escape attempts, and now Clive had the ‘honor.’ He stops at the entrance of the titanium mine’s west shaft, allowing the rest of the two hundred people charged with working the west wing file in around him. It has been the same workload for the last year and a half. Clive has outlived most every prisoner in the complex, so he has been deemed the luckiest man in Paradise. As he told everyone who uttered the idea, he was anything but lucky to stay alive in here.
“The others wanted me to ask you, sir,” Jenessa Gurst, a tall, built woman from Sinerra, and Clive's second says, as she leads the line of female inmates alongside Clive's, “Where were you and your roommates? You didn't show up for the morning mess, and we were kept clear of the area all morning.”
Jenessa had fallen off the grid several months before Clive was captured. She had led countless task forces for Clive up until the moment she disappeared, alongside the entire team that Clive had sent out with her. It wasn’t until Clive found her a couple months ago in Paradise that he got the full story. Evidently the ship she had been on was carrying some sort of disease, and after several months in Coalition quarantine, Jenessa was the last survivor. When a Coalition emissary came to visit the quarantine area, he immediately recognized Jenessa, who was quickly arrested. After several months in various prisons, Jenessa found herself here, in the dumping ground of the Coalitions most dangerous enemies.
“Jenniston made another surprise check in. Dean died last night, Jenniston found the body, and it all went south from there,” Clive briefs Jenessa on the events, without turning, “She exiled three of our boys too, including our demo expert Richie,” Finishing, Clive pulls the lever for the lift, with a groan, the lift races into the shafts below.
Lights play on the faces of the two hundred as the freight elevator roars along, eventually grinding to a halt far from the actual mine shaft. Here, work lights illuminate a rickety tower of scaffolding rising the hundred meters necessary to reach the ragtag elevator. One by one, everyone makes their way to the shaft below. Everyone shuffles along, all to their respective tunnels for another day of work in the dank, poorly lit tunnels of Paradise.
“So, does that push our plans back again, sir?” Jenessa asks, as she and Clive make their way to their station, “Because we are losing our strength, and our hope, sir.”
“No,” Clive says, picking up a dull, worn pickaxe and getting to work, “In fact, I think I may push things ahead, I think we can convince a few of the guards to join us.”
“Who? And how? They all serve Jenniston diligently, sir.”
“Captain Richardson seems to be disturbed be sick of Jenniston’s cruel treatment. I’m sure he would be willing to help, if not, at least for a price.”
“And how do you suppose we pay him, sir? Open up our wallets and hand him a few of… whatever they use here? We don’t have anything.” Jenessa says hopelessly as she takes an angry swing at the tunnel wall nearest her with her pickax. Grit and dust go flying, which sets Jenessa off, and she takes several dozen swings as she grits her teeth.
Once Jenessa has calmed down, Clive reaches into a crevasse in the wall, and pulls out a small bag. Smiling, he opens it to show Jenessa as he continues with a chuckle, “There’s several billion Coalition dollars’ worth in here. Did you really dare to doubt my resourcefulness?”
“How?” Jenessa asks, curiosity, and a flash of hope blooming in her eyes.
“Last month I found a small seam of these gems. I dug up what I could, and then boarded up the shaft. If Jenniston found out she was sitting on something of real value… I hate to imagine what she would do. Now, we just have to make sure Jenniston and Triborn hear nothing of this and we should be home free.”
Clive quickly tucks the gems into the folds of his tattered prison garb as a line of inmates shuffle by he and Jenessa. Once they are all out of earshot, Jenessa presses, “What about the old plan? If Richardson joins us, that’ll make everything easier, right?”
“It will,” Clive answers confidently as he smashes a nearby rock.
“Are you sure about Richardson?”
“I wouldn’t offer it unless I was certain. I trust his team too.”
“Well… I guess they aren’t like the rest,”
“They’ve treated us better than the other guards. They treat us like we’re people too. You and I both know that they want out of here as bad as we do.” Clive presses, his mind was already made up; he was going to recruit Richardson, his only issue was that he wanted Jenessa’s support. Leading everyone to their potential deaths was a burden Clive wasn’t interested in bearing alone, if she was on board, that would make everything easier on him.
“You’ve got your mind made up,” Jenessa observes, “I can see it in your eyes.”
“I think he’s our best bet,” Clive cedes with a shrug, “I think we could get more people out this way too.”
“But he and his team are always down here with us, we’ll need to be in the hangar... how will he help us up there?”
“Triborn and his team sweep the mines after every shift, if we knock them out, Richardson is next in line to take over.”
“Won’t Jenniston suspect us?”
“I’ve got a plan,”
“Can’t you just tell me the plan for once?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Clive asks with chuckle before a coughing fit, the dingy tunnels always made him cough. Clive wobbles over to a nearby cart and glances back to an exasperated Jenessa before pushing the cart toward the exit of the tunnel. He pauses just long enough to call back, “I’ll tell you at the end of the shift.”
•••••••••••••••
After countless long hours of backbreaking mining, a buzzer sounds, signaling the beginning of the coveted water-break, and everyone flows toward the wing’s water station. What made the break so valuable to Clive was the fact that Richardson left he and the rest of the inmates to themselves during the break, which also marked the end of the workday. This alone time that Richardson permitted Clive was just another rule that Richardson broke on Clive’s behalf, provided that Clive would make every effort to leave Richardson and his team out of the line of fire for the next uprising. Carefully watching the tunnel’s entrance for any of Triborn’s guards Clive stands from the cark he had been perched on after pushing it around all day.
Clive walks over to a trio of inmates, all crowding around a rusty water tank. He nods to the three as he addresses them, “T, Mav, Jenessa,”
“Boss,” T acknowledges him with a nod before chugging his canteen of the murky water.
T had been at Clive’s side for several years and had allowed himself to be captured alongside Clive when the Coalition raided their safehouse. Before Clive had met him, T spent the better part of his time floating between all sorts of dives across Riddick where he would drown in his own misery. The day Clive had wandered into T’s cantina for the night, T was in the midst of a barfight, and handling himself pretty well, despite the fact that he was hopelessly outnumbered. T is built like one of the biggest trees one has ever seen and has a wild beard that framed his otherwise kind face.
“Hello,” Maveric McCoy smiles as he fiddles with some small device, no matter how hard the guards tried, they couldn’t keep Mav from building something out of seemingly nothing.
Maveric McCoy, or Mav, as most everyone called him, is at least two heads shorter than T, and far thinner as well, acted like a shadow to T since they first met. Unlike T, Mav has a well-kept beard, which is his pride and joy in the prison. Mav, one of the most skilled and resourceful saboteurs Clive has ever met. Mav’s greatest drawback however, is his personality, which is quite possibly surpassed by a rock. Rather than socialize, Mav tended to stay inside his own head, occasionally sharing his deep thoughts, or his inner broodings, conspiracies, and obsessions.
“So, what’s the master plan?” Jenessa demands as Clive takes a swig from his canteen.
“We set a trap using some of the abandoned shafts,” Clive starts as he cringes at the foul flavor of the water. It wasn’t so much that he still could taste the filth in the water anymore, but the idea that he had grown used to the muck that filled his canteen. He continues to T and Mav, “You guys know the shaft that they closed after the last uprising?
“Couldn’t forget it,” T mutters as he spits to the side in disgust, “I can’t get that smell out of my nose.”
“And that’s with us working several tunnels away,” Mav adds, “I hate to imagine what those working right next to it smell.
No bodies had been removed from the depths of this particular tunnel after nearly a year due to reports of feral kintics. Kintics were bred by the Kryssian pirates for the destruction just one could wreak. These creatures were in many ways like a giant rat, but they were scaled like an alligator and had a temperament of one as well. They were used in executions, assassinations, and to wreak havoc on entire cities before pirate raids. They were not a beast to approach without the know-how, a fact proven by the two hundred or so corpses in that shaft.
“Well, I need you and Mav to open it up,” Clive starts, pushing memories of the last Mr. X out of his head.
The previous Mr. X had kicked off his escape attempt in that tunnel after digging for several months toward the surface beyond the wall. Somewhere along the way, they made some sort of mistake and found themselves surfacing within the walls of Paradise. Back then, kintics were used to patrol the area between the compound and the wall, so as soon as the tunnel broke the surface, kintics poured in. As the hungry kintics made quick work of everyone in their way, the last Mr. X, who was at the opposite end of the shaft, gave the order to rise up against the guards. When the dust settled, the only things left breathing were the kintics and a handful of prisoners who managed to board up the tunnel and save the rest of the mine.
“Open it up?” T asks in alarm, “You know how many people died in there?”
“Good people too,” Jenessa adds disapprovingly as she remembers a few of their fallen friends.
“It would be the perfect cover though,” Clive presses, “Jenniston would believe that Triborn pushed his luck in there to prove something.”
“And how do you suppose we do this safely?” Mav inquires as he caresses his beard.
“You two can pop it open before we go, then be sure to mark it so the next shift knows to stay away. You’ll be fine, the kintics should be at the other end of the tunnel, so don’t worry about it.”
“And if they aren’t?” Jenessa asks, shooting Clive a skeptical look.
“We don’t have anything to lose at this point,” Clive whispers as he massages the bridge of his nose, “I think Jenniston is prepping for another purge.”
“Another purge? Why do you say that?” T asks, struggling to keep his voice down. Clive notices several nearby people cock their heads to listen in on their conversation after T’s outburst.
“She threatened to do it this morning, and from what I’ve gathered after being here so long… well, she can’t shake the idea. She’s gonna do it soon, I can feel it.”
Those who were eavesdropping murmur amongst each other, which is exactly what Clive had been afraid of. The others notice Clive’s concern, and they soon notice the buzz that had started.
“Sorry,” T apologizes shyly, “I’m not good with big news,”
“It’s fine,” Clive says waving T away, “Now let’s get lost before the guards come.”
“Got it,” T says as he slips into one of the many tunnels that branch off of the break area.
“Oh, and Mav,” Clive says as he takes a hold of Mav’s shoulder, “Sabotage the respirators in the tunnel too, the air is supposed to be toxic.”
“Will do, boss,” Mav nods as he steps down a ladder into another tunnel below the water troughs.
Clive turns to speak to Jenessa but finds himself alone. Jenessa wasn’t one who needed instruction at every turn, which was something Clive still couldn’t get used to after spending so much time with people who he literally had to walk through even the most basic tasks. Out of the corner of his eye, Clive sees some of Triborn’s men pouring in from one of the main tunnels, so he pushes his way through the crowd and into the tunnel that led to the lift, so he wouldn’t miss lunch. Clive wanders down the deserted shaft, whistling a peaceful tune as he thinks about all the ways he would celebrate being out of Paradise, So long as I hold on to some of these jewels, I’ll be set, he tells himself as he toys with one of the larger gems that he had pulled out of the sack. Clive stops at the base of the lift and leans against it, he closes his eyes and starts daydreaming as he rolls the gem between his fingers.
“What’s that?” Clive hears a voice ask from the nearby shadows, causing him to jump.
“T, you have to stop doing that,” Clive starts with a chuckle as his heart slows back down to its normal rhythm. Taking a breath, he looks around to ensure he and T are alone before showing T the gemstone answering, “I found some of these, I’ll use them to help us get out of here,”
“Can I see?” T asks, stretching his hand out burly hands. Clive hands over the gem, and watches as T rolls it around his meaty palm with one of his sausage fingers, “I haven’t seen a rock like this in years… Last time I saw one this big, I was at one of those casinos on Grellik.”
“Well, maybe it’s a sign that we’ll be making it big,” Clive offers optimistically.
“I hope so,” T says as he hands the jewel back over. Chuckling, he continues, “Maybe you’ll have that thing put on a ring for the girl you meet when we get out.”
“I don’t think so,” Clive says dismissively as memories of his fiancé come flooding back. Clive had spent the last two years blocking out every memory of his dead fiancé, since the memories only filled him with more guilt. If he had just kept her away from the safe house, she could still be alive, instead, he brought her right to where the Coalition had been waiting.
“Clive,” T starts after a sigh. Seeing that Clive wasn’t paying him any heed, he takes a hole of Clive’s shoulder and repeats himself louder this time, “Clive!”
“What?”
“You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened.”
“I can blame myself so long as I know it was my fault,”
“It was the Coalition’s fault, at least that’s what you told me when you got
me out of that bar.”
“That was different,”
“How?” T asks, with a knowing look on his face. He knew Clive didn’t have an answer.
Clive wasn’t about to blame anyone but himself for the slipup that landed him here and killed the movement on the planet he had been on. Clive shakes his head and stalks away, knowing that his ‘the buck stops here’ mentality did as much harm as it did good sometimes. He had to blame himself, because it wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t. Blaming someone else felt too much like betraying his character, which was one of the few things he had left.
“We did what you asked,” Mav informs Clive as he joins them in the tunnel.
“Good,” Clive says as he turns to face Mav, happy for the distraction. After a slow breath, he continues, “And the respirators?”
“They’ll work for about half an hour,” Mav replies, “Just long enough that those who go in won’t be coming back out.”
“Good,” Clive nods.
“Seems like a bad way to go,” T mumbles.
“They’d do the same to us without a second thought,” Clive says reassuringly. By now, Richardson and his team would be back up top in the complex, which meant that they wouldn’t be in any danger until the next morning. Clive intended to have the tunnel sealed back up by the time Richardson would be going through there, just the be sure that his prospective ally won’t be losing anyone.
“You have that right,” Jenessa affirms Clive’s words as she joins them.
“You got the tunnel marked too, right?” Clive asks, always keen to minimalize casualties.
Clive had established a mark which was just square with an ‘X’ going through it, to symbolizes a trap. Clive has always insisted on secret symbols that only trusted people would know. By marking off the tunnel that was to be used as a trap for Major Triborn, Dream, his man in charge for the next shift, would know to keep his people clear. A chalked campfire drawn on the scaffolding at the elevator would notify him of the meeting during evening mess. Although the little symbols were a far cry short of real communication, there was no doubt in Clive’s mind that they saved lives. He had established similar systems of markings everywhere he had led Resistance cells, so those who had already fought beside him knew what to expect.