Breakout: (Space Outlaw 1)

by Dominique Mondesir

  "So, almighty Warden. What little lies did Plowstow tell you about me? I can guarantee it's no worse than what I've heard my whole life."

  Tap. Tap. Tap

  "Mr Jones, how did you ever think you could escape?"

  Bewilderment crossing his features, Phoenix placed a hand across his heart and looked stunned. "Dear sir, if that's what poor Plowstow told you under duress, then I must inform you that it's wrong. More than wrong, it's bullshit. I would never try and leave this fine prison. With the high quality of meals and service and the spacious and comfortable rooms? For me to just up and leave would make me a downright dirty cretin. And I am many things, sir, but a cretin is not one of them."

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  The Warden lifted his cane and pushed a button on the handle. He brought it down across Phoenix's shoulders; electricity coursed through the young man's body, jolting it forward.

  Phoenix caught himself before he collapsed on the floor. Steadying himself, he brought his body back into the folds of the chair. "That was unpleasant."

  "You think I want to do this? You think I like being Warden? It is work. People lie to you all the time. You see the worst in everyone, no matter the species. All here under one roof! Taking up valuable resources. Bah! Once they commit a crime, that should be it. No second chances, no prisons to live out the rest of their day. But the Council doesn't see it my way. Some families believe in second, third, even fourth chances."

  "You don't think some people here weren't pushed, forced, or had no other choice but to do some of the things they did? To feed their families? To protect themselves or loved ones? Everyone makes mistakes--"

  "Yes, everyone makes mistakes. But some more than others. Some should--"

  "Anyone can go left when they should have gone right. Things are never black and white," said Phoenix.

  "A child who peeps into the drawer will be tempted to take something out of it, and he who steals copper in his youth will steal gold when he reaches adulthood," said the Warden.

  The Warden walked towards his desk and picked up what appeared to be a remote. He pointed it at the far wall, and an image came into sharp focus. Chained to a table, with clamps over his body, Freyan looked every bit the innocent being Phoenix had come to know him as.

  "Now, shall we try this again?" asked the Warden.

  35

  Phoenix's body grew tense as he sat staring silently at the wall. No one in the room said anything. Phoenix turned his attention towards Plowstow. The alien's green skin paled as he too looked at the image in front of him. His eyes were as wide as saucers. He tried to take a step back, as if the image on the wall would attack him.

  Phoenix licked his dry lips and spoke to the Warden. "What is the meaning of this?"

  "This? Oh, what is this? How to put it? Hmm, when I don't get answers I want, Mr Jones, I must use whatever means at my disposal. You are resourceful, you understand, no? It is a shame, really. I didn't want it to come to this. But...it has," said the Warden with a shrug.

  "I already told you, I don't know anything."

  "You may or may not know this, but the Bloodless are an amazing race. Created by a mad scientist eons ago, they terrorised many planets, species, anyone that really crossed their path. Until the Council was formed. But still, the Council's only option was to pay them off." As he paced back and forth, the only sound that could be heard was the tap, tap, tap of the cane.

  "Even though they are feared, they can still be destroyed. They feel pain. They can go mad. Everyone is so scared of the Bloodless, but they are just bolts and circuits. Fear, Mr Jones, is mostly based in ignorance," said the Warden.

  "Look, let Freyan go, he has nothing to do with this," said Phoenix.

  The Warden ignored Phoenix's comments and picked up another control. This one was silver and curved. It fitted the Warden's hand like a glove. Gripping it firmly, he pointed it at the wall.

  Nothing happened at first, but Phoenix could see the chains binding Freyan begin to move. Like snakes coiling around their prey, they grew tighter and tighter, until Freyan's body was taut against the table. Appearing above the table, making its way down towards him, was an unmistakable, red-orange glow.

  Phoenix's neck muscles grew tense as he leaned forward. Digging his hands into the fabric of the chair, he said nothing. He couldn't take his eyes off the projection. The glow from the weapon lowering towards Freyan seemed to do so with the confidence of a predator facing down wounded, cornered prey. The image now took on a red-orange hue.

  "Ah, Mr Jones. I see you know all about neon weapons. Good, then I don't need to explain what will happen next. Most good."

  "I already told you, I don't know anything!" said Phoenix.

  The Warden looked towards the screen with his hands behind his back. His whole demeanour had changed. A faint smile was plastered across his face as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Getting up slowly from his chair, Phoenix saw movement from the guards out of the corner of his eyes. The guards' movement was faint, but Phoenix got the message loud and clear. Any abrupt movements on Phoenix's part would not be tolerated.

  Phoenix lowered himself back down into the chair and crossed his legs. A scream from out of nowhere brought his attention towards the image on the wall.

  The neon weapon had now reached Freyan. His body convulsed, twisting left and right. He thrust against his restraints, but he couldn't break them.

  Phoenix clenched his jaw as every impulse in his body told him to move. If he didn't do anything, Freyan would be no more. There was only so much pain and torture one person could take, even if that person couldn't bleed.

  The Warden let out a sigh as Freyan's screams echoed along the walls in the office. "Listen to that." He closed his eyes.

  Freyan's head bounced back and forth on the table as he screamed in agony.

  What was Phoenix supposed to do? Give up the only two people who'd tried to help him escape? If he did that, he would never get out of here. The Warden might know that he had spoken to Saoirse about escaping, but the actual plans and details of the breakout would still be a mystery to him.

  "This wasn't the deal!" bellowed Plowstow. "This was not how it was supposed to go, you hear me! You said that you would speak to Phoenix. You said that no punishment would come to anyone."

  "Did I?" the Warden asked.

  "I didn't trust her, Phoenix, I thought she was going to kill us all!" Plowstow rushed forward, but was struck down by one of the guards and collapsed to his knees. He tried to get up, but was hit again. With effort, Plowstow began crawling forward, inch by inch. But one of the guards placed his boot on Plowstow's back, halting any further forward motion.

  Phoenix looked at the sight of Plowstow on his stomach, blood leaking from his head, and felt conflicted. The house of cards he had built was now collapsing all around him. What could he do? Feel outraged?

  If the shoe were on the other foot and the Warden had offered him a choice to leave, would he take the offer? Even if it meant selling out the only people he had come to see as anything resembling friends since his arrival?

  "Enough!" Standing up, Phoenix walked towards the Warden.

  A prison guard followed him the whole way, watching his every step. Phoenix came to a stop in front of the smiling face he would do anything to cave in.

  "Enough. I'll tell you everything you want to know. Just stop this, please," said Phoenix.

  With his smile growing into a beam of joy, the Warden pressed a button on the silver control. The screaming stopped as the image of Freyan vanished from sight. The Warden brought his attention towards Phoenix, looking him over.

  "I do not care what you have to tell me, Mr Jones. Anything you know, I could find out on my own. It would be more enjoyable that way. More pleasurable," said the Warden.

  "Then why go through all this?" asked Phoenix.

  "Because I wanted to break you, break your will, break your spirit. Break your very essence. What good is it to kill someone if they die with digni
ty or honour? No, no, Mr Jones. I want you to die knowing you were helpless. Couldn't save your Bloodless friend, couldn't stop this Orcian here from betraying you. You were helpless from the very start of your journey here. I saw the defiance in your eyes when you first arrived--the fire. Holger trusted me with the task of breaking your spirit and I believe I have done so. When your last thoughts are swimming in your mind before you die, know this: I will find the midnight woman. I will kill her and everyone involved with her. It will be my pleasure," said the Warden.

  Phoenix felt two pairs of hands on either side of him restraining him where he stood. As he took a step forward, the prison guards tightened their grips.

  "Take him away."

  As Phoenix was escorted from the room, the final words of the Warden rang out loud and clear.

  "Rest assured, Mr Jones, everyone you have ever loved on your home planet will meet the same fate as you. You will meet them in the afterlife. You shall have a lot of company. You think you can change that. I think not."

  36

  The cell Phoenix was in was so small, he couldn't stretch his arms out fully. It was tight, damp, and hot. Pacing back and forth was out of the question, so he just sat on the floor, cross-legged.

  He had been escorted to somewhere deep in the belly of the prison ship. None of it looked familiar to him, and the area had a different smell to it. It was one of damnation. Sunken, ghoulish eyes had peered through bars, watching him make his journey. Scarred hands gripped bars with the owners' faces masked in a shadow of darkness.

  It was quiet down here. Too quiet.

  Even the guards escorting him to his cell had swept nervous glances at each other, checking over their shoulders every so often. The guards never let their hands stray too far from their weapons, fingers tap-dancing along the weapons' shafts.

  Nothing was said to him. He knew he was sentenced to die, he just didn't know how or when.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  A sound on the metal door of Phoenix's cell. The rusty, solid metal gave him no clue as to who or what it could be.

  Knock. Knock.

  Phoenix looked up as the door's viewing panel was slowly pulled open. Metal grating on metal made him place his hands over his ears and grit his teeth. When he looked through the peep-hole, a familiar face stared down at him.

  "Shanks knew this day would come. You don't know place. You don't know when to bow down before betters. You stupid. But the particle chamber will get rid of all that. It will be painful--your screams shall be heard by all," said Shanks.

  Phoenix kept his head bent and his eyes closed. He would not play this game.

  "Oh, why so quiet? Why nothing to say? It doesn't matter anyway. The Warden will soon find the bounty hunter; she shall be dealt with. Shanks may even deal with her. What pleasure that will be. What pleasure Shanks will have. All because Mr Jones didn't know his place."

  Shanks pounded his fist on the metal door, the sound of it echoing along the silent corridor for all to hear.

  Eyes still closed, Phoenix said nothing.

  "You broken. You weak. That's why you say nothing, Mr Jones. That's why you quiet. That's why you scared. You should be scared," hissed Shanks, pushing his face as close as he could against the viewing panel.

  Phoenix allowed a smile to cross his face. The twins' smiling faces could always calm him when he needed it most.

  "Stop smiling! Do you not know where you are? Do you not know what will happen to you?"

  Phoenix allowed the warmth of their smiles to wash over him. He would see them soon, one way or another.

  "I will tell you where you are. You are where the Warden throws his failed experiments. Where prisoners that don't react well to certain drugs are kept. Some turn...into something different." Shanks pulled away from the viewing panel and cast a quick glance around him. The silence was deafening.

  Phoenix's eyes snapped open and he stared long and hard at Shanks. The head guard took a step back from the door. Still not saying a word, Phoenix got up and walked to the door. Eyes still locked on his target, Phoenix pressed his face against the panel and smiled.

  "Remember what I told you when we first met? I will escape from here. And when I do, your fate is already sealed. Nothing will get in my way," Phoenix said.

  Shanks took another step back but didn't say anything.

  The viewing panel slammed across Phoenix's face, pushing him back.

  Bang! Bang!

  "You have lost mind, Mr Jones. You are already dead," said Shanks, banging on the door.

  37

  The Warden sat behind his desk, papers askew and littering the surface. His clothes were slightly ruffled; there were food stains on the sleeves of his jacket. The views of a hundred cameras were in front of him, all being projected in the air. Sweeping his hands from one view to the next, he muttered angrily to himself.

  "Where is she?"

  He flicked left to right as he scanned every image sent his way. There were cameras located all over the prison--some invisible to the naked eye, some even embedded into prisoners themselves. But still, he had not found what he was looking for.

  A faint ringing echoed in his ear, which only he could hear. He let out a sigh.

  He placed his hand in the air, the display in front of him reading his palm signature before an open communication channel presented itself. A large, sweaty face came into view--Holger, who swept his jet-black hair from his eyes.

  "I take it this line is secure?" asked Holger.

  "As well as one can hope. But if funds weren't so low--"

  "I already told you, Smit, the prison budget will not be reviewed any time soon by the Council. Fingers are being pointed at the moment. Figures are been checked and rechecked. Nobody can make a move in the Council without going through a hundred different hoops. There are whispers and rumours about a big play happening among the families, one that could topple one of the major six. Things are unsettled at the moment," said Holger.

  "How am I supposed to work with such insignificant funds? You think it's easy, but I think not. Anything can happen. You know how it is. Mistakes happen, errors occur. When I can barely provide for myself, how do you expect me to employ the right labour? Good help doesn't come cheap," said the Warden, his voice echoing around the room.

  Holger's face grew larger as he brought the screen closer, nostrils flaring. The Warden could see a vein pulsing on the side of his head.

  "Do not threaten me! Do you know who I am? My father would have you kneeling before me while my men skinned you alive. You knew the deal and what it involved when you accepted it. You knew the risks and you were handsomely paid for it! Before we gifted you this job, you were nothing more than a mere criminal, doing experiments on people that would have you locked up in the very prison you now lord over. You are only where you are now because you are useful to us. You created a drug that is beneficial to our family. Do not forget that," said Holger.

  "Of course, my lord," purred the Warden.

  "Is the next shipment ready to go?" asked Holger.

  "Yes, yes it is. But...there may be a slight delay. We have run into some...difficulties. "

  "What difficulties?" snapped Holger.

  "Nothing, nothing that we--I can't take care of. The Earth man, Phoenix, has caused some problems, but they've been resolved."

  "Is he still alive?" asked Holger.

  "Not for long, my great, all-powerful, all-merciful one," said the Warden.

  "Good. Remember, the next shipment of drugs needs to be sent to Earth. You can't delay on this. The family needs all the resources we can get. Father entrusted me with this task and I mustn't fail him. The delivery needs to be on time."

  "Will you be there to receive it, my lord?"

  "Are you stupid? I can be nowhere near that planet when the uprising occurs. If any hint of family involvement is suspected, the Council will be all over us. No, I will be long gone when the delivery is made at the drop point. I will have men there. That's all you need
to know. Do not fail me. Your usefulness depends on it." With that, Holger broke the connection.

  The Warden slammed his fist on his desk. Papers fell on his floor, as if they were jumpers making their way out of a burning building. Leaning his head back, he stared at his office ceiling.

  Things were simpler when he was just a scientist trying to make a living. His customers came to him with specifications for whatever drug they wanted--the effect they wanted it to have on them--and he would create it to the best of his ability.

  The money was good.

  The freedom was even better.

  But like all great works of art, not every drug had its desired effect. There were some anomalies that came with everything experimental. The wrong drug got into the wrong hands and before he knew it, he had pirates, gang leaders, and drug lords all after his blood.

  How was he to know that the batch was faulty? It wasn't his fault. They were drugs! What did people expect?

  On the run for what seemed like an eternity, he was finally taken in by the Portendorfer family. They gave him a job offer that he couldn't refuse and a position of power he'd always wanted.

  It was simple at first. He loved the feeling of power, the control he had over people's lives. He was like a god here. But like everything in life, the job offer had some strings attached. The Portendorfer family wanted a certain type of drug such as he had never created. Not a drug that gave the user pleasure, or allowed them to escape from reality. No, the drug they wanted robbed the user of all free will.

  He wasn't sure it could be done. He told them as much. But they said they were patient and there was no rush.

  Plus, he had all the test subjects he could ever need or want, with a fresh supply coming his way on a regular basis. It had taken a lot of trial and error, but he had finally gotten the desired drug of choice. The mistakes along the way had been costly. But all those hiccups were buried deep under lock and key in the cells in the heart of the prison. No one would ever find them. They were so monstrous that not even he had the stomach to look upon them anymore.