"But that's all about to change, L. That's why we are here, why we have been planning this for so long. We won't be here much longer," said Saoirse.
"I know, Midnight. I know."
"So, what's the plan, then?" asked Phoenix.
"Simple, really. L here will use her skills to cause a big blackout in the prison. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, as the ship has backup engines in case of system failure. Only thing is, the person who has been maintaining both the primary engine and the backup is L. So for when we are ready to leave, she has placed a detonator. That should trigger the explosives, which will disable both engines at once. This will leave the prison dead in the water," said Saoirse.
"Won't the engines be checked?"
"I have been doing it so long now, security has become lax when it comes to watching me. I do it for free, remember. Why pay someone else with the same skills to do such a job? The prison budget is tight as is; the Council doesn't give the Warden many credits to work with. Add to the fact that he likes to keep as much of the budget to himself as he can, and you have him cutting corners wherever he can," said L.
Saoirse said, "Once the engines are down, everything will erupt into chaos. The locks on the cell doors will open, and it will be a free-for-all. While the guards have their hands full, we make our escape. The hard part will be getting to the docking bay."
"Won't everyone be going there, trying to escape?"
"As you have seen, there are a number of prisoners who are drugged. It is the same drug used by the Portendorfer family on unstable planets. The Warden had to test if the drugs worked. So when the riots begin, we emit a frequency and instruct them to attack the guards and defend us," said Saoirse.
"That sounds..." trailed off Phoenix.
L turned away, hair going jet-black. She walked to a corner and began tinkering with something.
"There is no other way," Saoirse said. "This plan is so filled with holes, I highly doubt it will work. So we need all the help we can get, however we can get it. I don't like doing this, but it must be done for the greater good. These prisoners are not innocent bystanders. They are rapists, murderers, cheats. The worst of the worst. We must do what we must."
"I know, Midnight," said L. "It's just so..."
"Dirty," said Phoenix, finishing off L's train of thought.
"And how much dirt and blood do you have on your hands? Are yours so clean that you can easily pass judgement?" asked Saoirse.
"No. No, they're not. But as long as we don't sugarcoat what we're doing here... We're using people as tools to escape. They may be criminals, yes. But they aren't thoughtless machines. They have pasts, families. And they have a future, as bleak as it may be. As long as we acknowledge that, then we must do what we must do," said Phoenix.
Saoirse looked from Phoenix to L, face set in a scowl. Throwing her hands up in the air, she shook her head. "Do you both not realise what is at stake here?" She pointed at Phoenix. "You of all people should know--your home planet. Your friends, your loved ones. If we hesitate here for a second, then all of that will be wiped out in an instant. There will be no coming back from that. Once loved ones are gone, they are gone. Never to return. Trust me, I know."
"As do I," said Phoenix.
He walked back and forth across the room, his head spinning with what he was planning to do. What he knew he was going to do. He would use these people like puppets to further his own cause. Many would die without ever getting the chance to see their loved ones again.
Did that right get taken away from them because they were here? Did their past sins allow him to become judge, jury, and executioner? If that was the case, surely he had no say in his own fate. He had committed many crimes, and should be punished like the rest of them. How far was he willing to go? How much of himself was he willing to lose?
Phoenix threw his head back and let out a heavy sigh. "We will do what we have to do. No matter what, we will push through."
"Good. Now, on to the second order of business. We will need some extra hands," said Saoirse.
"I think I have that covered," said Phoenix with a smile.
33
Phoenix's thoughts raced back and forth as he went over the conversation he'd just had with Saoirse and L. The lines between right and wrong were getting murkier by the second.
Shaking his head, he tried to push those thoughts to the back of his mind. But they would come back for him. When it was dark and late, just before his eyes closed, they would reach out and embrace him, not allowing him the rest he wanted.
Phoenix halted in his tracks as he heard the sounds of moaning up ahead. His head swept from left to right--all clear. He cautiously moved forward, towards the sound. Stopping every so often, he checked for enemies. Still clear. Phoenix steadied his breathing as he approached the sound. It was one of pain and agony.
A cell door was open on the right a few feet ahead of him. That seemed like the source of the mournful medley. Phoenix inched towards the door, where he saw Freyan kneeling down beside what appeared to be a pile of rags.
"You do not have to sneak about like some thief in the night. You are not in danger here, Phoenix," said Freyan.
"How did you know it was me?"
"A Bloodless one can enhance anything on their person; it's just a matter of finding the right parts and upgrading oneself. I could hear a pin drop a mile away, if I wanted to. It's just a matter of increasing or decreasing my capabilities. Plus, I know the way you walk. Your gait, the way you place your feet, it's all logged in here." Freyan tapped his head.
"Any other enhancements I should know about?"
"That conversation is for a later time," whispered Freyan.
Phoenix walked into the cell and the moaning grew louder. As he glanced down where Freyan knelt, the pile of rags shifted. One fragile-looking hand emerged from the pile and grabbed Freyan's hand. Even in the dim light, Phoenix could see it shaking.
"What's wrong with it?" asked Phoenix.
"He is suffering from the withdrawal of the Warden's drug. The more addictive the drug, the worse the withdrawal. This drug is one of the most powerful I have seen. Once it gets you in its clutches, there is no going back. Unless taken weekly, the effects get worse and worse."
"What happens?"
"Not much at first. That is the beauty of the drug. It works as if you are not on a drug at all when you take it. You function normally, until you are sent a message through a certain frequency. Then you lose your self-control. You become thoughtless. Your only need is to complete the task given. And no matter what harm befalls you, you will keep at it until it is done. Upon completion, you return to normal. But the effects don't stop there. The drug continues, feeding on the muscles, the tissues, then the organs. Without another hit, it becomes like a virus that slowly kills you. The only thing that can truly halt it is another hit," said Freyan.
"This doesn't sound like a drug at all, it sounds like a disease or a weapon. Built only for one purpose."
"I guess you're right. Huh, funny. I had never looked at it that way. I should be ashamed, really--someone of my calibre not seeing that." Freyan stroked the filthy rags with the tips of his fingers as he hummed a wordless tune.
The moaning quieted, but didn't cease.
"There, there. I know it hurts. I wish I could do something for you. But in here," said Freyan looking around the cell walls, "all my knowledge is worthless without the right tools."
Phoenix brought his sleeve up to cover his mouth and nose. Every time the body shifted, a decaying smell wafted up from under the clothes. It stung his eyes. Dry heaving, he took a few steps back.
"How can you stand the smell?" asked Phoenix.
"I stand it because it is my duty to. I am a doctor, Phoenix. A doctor who can't save a single damn person in this prison. The least I can do is be by my patients' side in their darkest hour."
"No matter their crimes?" asked Phoenix.
"Yes, no matter their crimes."
Phoenix nodded
but didn't say anything for a while. It would be wrong to break the silence of whatever this was, but they needed to get moving--time was of the essence.
"I have spoken to Saoirse and L. The plan is a go. I'll tell you all the details closer to the date. The less you know, the better it is for everyone involved. It's a simple plan, which means less can go wrong. Are you still in?" asked Phoenix.
"Yes."
"Good. Now I just need to speak to Plowstow and we should be ready. Is he back at the cell?"
"No. He left shortly after you once the cell doors unlocked, and I have not seen him since. Let me finish here and we can go back together."
Phoenix watched Freyan while he worked. There was so much care and passion there that he wondered how the Bloodless would take the news when the plan for escape was laid out.
That was a bridge he would have to cross once he got to it. For now, he would keep the darker details to himself until the time was right.
Phoenix and Freyan entered their cell to find it empty, with no sign of Plowstow.
"Hmm--did Plowstow say how long he would be away?" said Phoenix. "I don't know how safe it is for us to be walking around this prison alone. With the attack on you, I think everyone knows we're cellmates, so we're all at risk. Going ahead, I think we should only leave in pairs for the time being."
"You are being uncharacteristically cautious."
"Freedom is within our grasp, I can smell it. I won't allow it to slip through my fingers," said Phoenix.
"Footsteps. Shanks," said Freyan.
Waiting for the guard to appear, they both took casual positions on their bunks.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound of many feet approaching. That meant several fists holding electrified batons, wanting nothing more than shocking flesh into obedience.
Phoenix could hear the footsteps so loudly, the sound seemed to occupy every space in his head. Why were they coming? He hadn't done anything of late that was noteworthy. Phoenix felt the ball of tension grow in his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he allowed it to pass.
He could hear a baton being dragged against metal bars, getting louder...closer. Phoenix nodded his head and smiled at the tactic. It was one he would use himself. On and on, the sound went. Metal against metal, like two warring nations meeting on the battlefield, swords clashing against shields.
Standing framed in the cell doorway, the outline of Shanks blocked what little light filtered into the cell. Slapping his baton against the bars, Shanks looked at both of them.
"Well, well. Here we are. Shanks happy today. Very, very, happy day for Shanks. Want to know why?"
"Not really," said Phoenix with a yawn.
"No, Shanks want you to guess."
"You finally got to sleep with your sister? Did you find out what bathing's like? You meet someone who can fix that face of yours? Oh, oh, I know--after decades of silence, you and the Warden have decided to announce your hidden love affair. Any of that sound right? Am I even close?"
Shaking his head, Shanks smiled Phoenix's way. It set off alarm bells inside Phoenix's head.
Something's wrong.
Shanks was too stupid not to fall for bait like that, not unless he had something up his sleeves.
"What did Shanks tell you?" said Shanks, nudging the guards around him. "Didn't Shanks say Mr Jones funny? He laugh even now, though his fate is sealed. He is making jokes, but joke on him."
Oh no.
Phoenix's jaw tensed, the understanding of Shanks's happiness now sinking in. There was only one thing that would make the guard so happy. Phoenix grabbed the frame of his bunk, the cold metal dug into his flesh.
"Ahh, Mr Jones realise why Shanks here. I see it. Shanks sees it in the body, in the eyes." Shanks took a step forward, bottom lip pulled back in a smile resembling a snarl. His eyes appeared to be alight. They glowed with the fire of a predator finally catching its prey. "Well, Mr Jones, someone has been naughty."
"Oh, whatever do you mean?"
"You know!" snarled Shanks. He shook his head, then turned around. "Bring them. Shanks sad that we not get to play longer, Mr Jones. Very sad indeed."
Shanks walked away, his voice echoing after him.
34
With his hands in gravity handcuffs, Phoenix was escorted down the corridor. Two guards walked on either side of him, both holding weapons that popped and crackled with electricity. Phoenix held his head high while he made the way towards the Warden's office. They thought he would cower in fear and beg for mercy. They should have known him better than that by now.
His mind numb and thoughts blank, he allowed his feet to carry him forward.
The office door appeared far too soon before him. Phoenix was jerked to a halt while one of his escorts knocked on the door.
They waited.
Phoenix lowered his head and took a big lungful of air before lifting it back up.
"Enter."
Phoenix walked through the open door, his shoulders back, head forward, and a smile plastered on his face.
The same room greeted him, still devoid of any emotion or personality. The Warden stood with his back to them, staring out a portal. The blackness of space filled the view. Taking a moment to look at it himself, it reminded Phoenix just how far away from home he really was.
"Ah, Mr Jones. Please do take a seat," said the Warden.
Phoenix walked towards the bare metal chair in front of The Warden's desk. Stopping in front of it, he shook his head and walked past. Pulling out the chair from behind the Warden's desk, he lowered his weight into it. What appeared to be leather--or a space equivalent--moulded itself around his body. Moving his weight around, he sighed in bliss as he sank deeper into the chair.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Coming around into Phoenix's field of vision, the wrinkled features of The Warden were pulled back in a grimace.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Other than tapping his cane, the Warden made no movements--just kept his eyes narrowed and locked onto Phoenix. In return, Phoenix gave him a smile and a friendly nod.
"Tut, tut, tut. How upsetting this is. I am sure you know why you are here?" asked the Warden.
"No clue."
"Come now. You and I both know what has been done. You play the innocent party, but it will not wash. It will not stand. You think so, but I think not."
"Listen. I was very happy in my cell, minding my own business, when your dickhead of a guard picked me up and brought me here. I've done nothing wrong, nothing to warrant this," said Phoenix, lifting his shackled hands towards the Warden with effort.
"Really?"
"Really. But I will take an apology. Go ahead, then I'll be on my way."
"Hmm--interesting. Word has reached my ears that you have been in contact with someone you shouldn't be."
"And who would that be?" said Phoenix.
"Whispers have reached my ear of talk between you and the bounty hunter known as Saoirse."
"I didn't know it was against the rules for one inmate to talk to another."
"So you do not deny it, then?" The Warden smiled.
"Saoirse is a thing of beauty, and I happen to have a soft spot for that. So yes, I may have had a word or two with her in the canteen, but apart from that, we haven't spoken."
"Interesting, interesting. Lies and your mouth seem to come as one. No worries. I have things to part them." The Warden turned around and walked over to one of the guards, whispered in his ear. The guard nodded his head in understanding before leaving the room. "Now, Mr Jones, where were we?"
"I believe you were about to offer me an apology and send me on my way," said Phoenix, bringing his feet to rest on the Warden's desk.
Another muscle twitch crossed the Warden's face, like a shooting star against the blackness of space. "Your humour never ceases to amaze me. It is something that shall be missed. Bah! But life is short."
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Phoenix was really starting to hate that damn walking stick. The constant tappi
ng began to get under his skin. He would love nothing more than to take it from the Warden and shove it where the sun didn't shine.
"While we wait, you are sure that you don't want to come clean, no? Nothing you want to tell me?"
Phoenix let out a yawn as he rolled his eyes. His shoulders coming together in a shrug for the Warden gave the prison head all the answers he was going to get.
"Very well."
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Phoenix swiveled back and forth in the chair. As he fiddled with levers that he found, the chair dropped slowly towards the ground. He pushed another button, and it began to recline all the way back.
"Will you stop pushing that!" the Warden said, cheeks flushed in anger.
"I see you were a child who didn't let other kids play with your toys."
The door's opening cut off whatever response the Warden was going to give. Escorted in by a guard, Plowstow entered the office. He didn't make eye contact with Phoenix, just kept his gaze on the floor. His posture of shoulders hunched over and head low gave Phoenix all the information he needed.
"This inmate here. You look at him and think, 'thug,' 'murderer,' 'criminal,' no? You see him as I saw him--slow, dim, lazy. But I was wrong. Yes, me. Who would have thought? Bah! You live and learn, no? But he, this filthy Orcian beast, has done what every model prisoner should do," the Warden said.
"He has a name. It's Plowstow," said Phoenix.
Plowstow lifted his head up at the sound of his own name and looked Phoenix's way.
"I wouldn't be so friendly, Mr Jones. If you only knew what secrets the Orcian has been giving us. If you only knew. The little words that have been tumbling out of his mouth. You would be so angry. So, so, angry. At the betrayal. At the bonds broken and the secrets told," the Warden whispered.
Phoenix kept his gaze on Plowstow throughout the Warden's speech. He didn't break eye contact. Nor did he allow the Orcian to avoid his gaze. Phoenix gave Plowstow a slight nod of understanding before turning his attention to the Warden.
Breakout: (Space Outlaw 1) Page 12