Her quarters were much bigger and more luxurious than the stark white little room she’d called home for as long as she could remember. But she wasn’t on New Alcatraz for the creature comforts. The sooner she completed her mission, the sooner she could figure out how in the hell to get out of the mess she was in.
She focused her thoughts on the dinner. After Kyle had introduced her to his sergeants, the conversation at the table had been stilted. Not one of them dared look at her, much less address her. It was strange, almost as if they were afraid of a female infiltrating their ranks. Conversation between them had been minimal. They discussed a few unruly prisoners, one of whom had been punished. She had remained quiet while the men talked and focused on what they were saying. Nothing was said that Doctor Schultz would be interested in. The whole situation had been uncomfortable. Either the men resented having a female join the staff, or they knew she had been sent there to root out the traitors.
Chapter Four
In the morning, Rachel went through her normal routine to get ready for the day. The ultra-sonic shower was a new experience, and even though there was no real water, she felt very clean, and her hair felt silky. Digging in the case, she took out one of her signature skimpy outfits. She grabbed the red and black one and selected the red bodysuit to wear over top of it. She quickly put her other clothing away in the closet and hid the disintegration phaser at the back beneath her folded blue suit. Once everything had been carefully put away, she headed to the mess hall.
The staff dining area was practically deserted when she arrived. Used to eating in silence, Rachel seated herself at one of the empty tables, though it didn’t take long for the vacant chairs to be filled by the men she had met at dinner the previous evening. Kyle arrived and took the empty seat beside her.
Breakfast was a delight. Real eggs, long crunchy strips of smoky meat, toast, avocado, fruit, and coffee. She’d never had coffee in the Institute, so she tentatively sipped it and found that she liked it.
The men seemed to be a little more at ease, but the conversation was practically nil. She had learned nothing from the staff as they ate. Then again, she doubted anything would be discussed during meals, nothing that she could relay to Schultz anyway. After the inmates had filed out, she stood to leave.
Kyle grasped her arm, stopping her. “Are you ready for your tour?”
She experienced those strange cold tingles down her back again. She wanted to shake his hand off but didn’t. Instead, she cocked her head and smiled. “Of course.”
“The man you are replacing will be leaving later this morning. I will escort you to the control room after the tour so you can begin work.” He handed her a gun belt that had two holsters with weapons already in them. “This is a stun gun and the other one a phaser. You must have your weapons on you at all times.”
“Thank you.” She put the belt around her hips and buckled it. “I guess I’m ready. Lead on.” The phaser, she’d noticed at a glance, was not unlike her own weapon, but it would merely stun or kill. Her own would disintegrate. She’d be able to swap them when the time came for her to eliminate the traitors after she had identified them.
Rachel followed him through the maze of halls. When they got to the prisoner section, she gasped. It was like a beehive. Round, with layers upon layers of small containment units with a prisoner in some of them. She presumed many of them were at work in the mine. Maybe they worked shifts? The prisoners that were in the units appeared to be sleeping.
In the center was a tall glass tower. It was beautiful in a macabre kind of way. She noticed offices from top to bottom with a guard on each floor sitting in a cubicle behind monitors and instrument panels.
Kyle stopped before one of the units and gestured to the prisoner contained within. “This is inmate four-five-one-nine-eight-zero. He has been a thorn in our side ever since his arrival several months ago, but I’ve experienced that he’s an excellent cook. I might give him another try in the kitchens.”
Why would Kyle single out this specific prisoner? She studied the young man sitting on some straw-like substance in the corner of the small containment unit. He was almost naked except for dark shorts that clung to his muscled body. His left arm and hand were badly scarred. It looked like he’d been severely burnt and quite recently. The wounds were fresh, some of them still scabbed. His long dark hair was tangled, and he had several weeks growth on his face. She doubted the inmates were ever allowed to cleanse themselves. She saw a man who looked dirty, wounded, yet alert. He couldn’t have been imprisoned very long.
“Better clean him up first before he handles food. Is he dangerous?”
“Yes. Extremely so. Do not hesitate to shoot to kill if he causes trouble. Or any of them for that matter. This one attacked a guard with a burning pot of oil. His punishment was mine duty and the night shift. I don’t know why he’s not sleeping.”
The prisoner jumped up when he heard their voices and stood close to the containment field, almost touching it with his body.
You’re from the Institute.
A deep drawl whispering in Rachel’s mind startled her. The voice had to have come from the dangerous prisoner. She concentrated on the man within the cell. His eyes fixed on her were bright and alert as he stared directly into hers. Fuck! He’s been telepathically enhanced, like me. But how the hell did he know? Maybe the tattoos gave me away? She rapidly blinked twice, activating the micro communication chip in her brain so she could answer him.
Yes. But how could you possibly know? Who are you?
A gut feeling. He gave me the same tour when I first arrived. Schultz and Schmidt sent me here first to ferret out the culprits stealing the gold.
Oh, my God. You’re from the Institute’s male division. What happened to you? How did you end up in jail?
Long story. No time. The asshole is with you. His gaze flicked quickly to Kyle then back to her.
Luckily, Kyle hadn’t noticed the brief interaction between them as his attention was focused on the inmate in the next unit. He turned back to her and motioned her to follow him.
Be careful. Kyle is... The rest of the words faded. Kyle walked too fast, and there was too much distance between her and the inmate now. Although it was strange. The telepathy implant should allow conversation over long distances. Something seemed to be interfering. Maybe the containment field on the cell?
How the hell could she find out who the prisoner was? And if he was from the Institute, why hadn’t he activated his implant? Had he known it would kill him? But how? She turned. He was still standing behind the field gazing after her. She looked at him again. His brown eyes were earnest, and from what she could see through the dirt on his face, his expression was open and honest. How had he figured out where she was from and who had sent her? Just gut instinct as he had explained? Could it have been her demeanor?
Kyle continued the tour, showing her the rest of the prison. She found the conditions in New Alcatraz deplorable. Even though the men and women were convicted criminals and were incarcerated for life, they were humans and deserved at least a half-decent existence. The inmates were treated like nothing more than animals, though she had a feeling that most animals were treated better than this.
If a prisoner was truly a murderer, serial killer, or terrorist, then give them the death penalty. That would be more kind than the appalling environment they existed in. At least then, they could meet their maker who would pass final judgment on their soul. But the death penalty had been abolished years ago due to innocents getting killed. Rachel wondered if any of the prisoners sent to New Alcatraz were innocent. It all depended on their lawyer if they had enough money at least to hire a good one. Most people had to make do with a court-appointed defense, and that meant accepting whichever attorney took the case.
After her tour of the containment units, Kyle showed her around the greenhouses and the water production plant. He only permitted her to see a small portion of the mines. Half-naked prisoners w
ere hard at work, sweat dripping off their bodies. It was hot and humid in that section of the prison.
The two kitchens were last on her tour. The gleaming state-of-the-art kitchen appliances were impressive. Both had been staffed by yellow-clad prisoners, all wearing black caps. Even though their hair had been contained beneath the caps, she was disgusted at how filthy the inmates were. All the men had beards of varying lengths, and both men and women were sorely in need of a bath. It was all very unsanitary. Her stomach roiled at the thought she would have to eat what they prepared.
Rachel was glad when the tour was finally over. Kyle took her to the control room, so she could start work that day. Her office was a glass cubicle with floating monitors against three walls. A high stool stood in the center with a panel loaded with switches and small lights before it.
After Kyle had left the control room, she sat on the stool and powered up the system. Within seconds the manual on how to operate the equipment popped up on the screens. She’d not trained on this type of equipment, so for a few moments, she felt as if she were floating in limbo. She concentrated on the instruction manual, memorized everything she learned, and soon got the hang of what she was assigned to do.
Rachel examined the view screens. Blips on the monitors indicated all the vessels approaching or leaving New Alcatraz. The planet had a lot of traffic, but it was understandable considering the amount of ore removed from the mines. Where was it being taken and how in the hell would she figure out which ships contained stolen gold?
While she was working, the face of prisoner 451980 flashed through her mind. She knew he had to be a recruit from the male division of the Institute. Did he manage to glean information that would help her in her mission? If so, why hadn’t Schultz mentioned sending him? Someone who had obviously failed? And how did he get here? Sending humans through the portal had only just begun. Two was the first to be transported through it. Maybe he was sent here on a spaceship? She was so tempted to ask questions, but it was too soon. She’d have to bide her time to find out more about the man.
So he’d failed in his mission, and they’d resorted to sending a female. She almost missed an approaching vessel thanks to her conflicted thoughts.
“Evans! Grab that one!”
The loud voice over the intercom infiltrated her thoughts. She spotted the vessel on screen and quickly directed the craft for landing, then leaned back, allowing her overflowing mind to relax.
“Sergeant Evans, you almost missed that ship! It could have crashed.”
She’d had no idea that anyone had been watching her. “Sorry. This is all new for me.”
Glancing behind her, she saw it was Sergeant Blom who stood just outside her office. He was a middle-aged man, maybe around fifty, baldheaded with beady blue eyes. She read resentment in his gaze.
“Don’t let it happen again,” he said and sneered.
Turning away from him, she concentrated on her work, but her mind wouldn’t be silent. How was she ever going to find out who was stealing the gold? Cooking the books, so to speak? She had to try to get closer to the men, to socializing with them, but they radiated nothing but resentment.
Somehow, she needed to get to the mainframe computer. She wondered where it was located. There were several passageways Kyle had avoided during her tour. Maybe it was contained in a restricted access location.
Another vessel signaled for landing. Her job was monotonous and boring, and she really missed her daily training. Damn, I’m a soldier, and I’m stuck working computers and gazing out at space. Never in my life could I have imagined missing the fucking Institute. Even though I hate the place, I’d give anything to be back. At least there, I could go outside, see daylight, and I had a chance to plot an escape. Here, I don’t stand a fighting chance in hell. The planet is uninhabitable, and the docking bays are too highly monitored. There is no fucking escape.
Her stomach began to growl. She glanced at the clock and grimaced. Eleven-thirty. The job was rather repetitive to the point of mind-numbing, so time passed way too slow and she was starving even after the large breakfast she had eaten.
Around noon, Blom knocked on her door. He escorted a yellow-clad prisoner who handed her a biodegradable plate with a sandwich on it and a disposable cup of steaming tea. To her surprise, it was prisoner 451980. He wore a black cap, hiding his greasy hair, but he looked cleaner. Kyle had worked fast. He’d only just mentioned he might try the inmate in the kitchens again. She noticed him blinking twice.
I am Forty-three, but my real name is Ethan. For a brief moment their fingers touched sending a strange thrill up her arm, nothing like the chills Kyle had given her.
She activated the communication chip in her brain. I’m Twelve. I Don’t know my real name, but here I am known as Rachel.
Blom prodded Ethan hard in the ribs and ushered him out the door. Rachel watched the men leave. Ethan. Interesting that he remembers his name. She had no memories. Doctors Schultz and Schmidt had wiped them thoroughly when they recruited her to the Institute.
She turned back to the viewing screens while munching on the sandwich. The last thing she needed was another run-in with Blom over not paying attention.
Around mid-afternoon, Kyle’s voice sounded over the com. “Rachel, come to my quarters at five-thirty after your shift ends. Blom will escort you.”
Why did he want to see her? Had Blom reported her screw-up? She balked. Honestly? What was Kyle going to say? You fucked up? Would he throw her in jail like he had Ethan? Then again, she had no idea in what capacity Ethan had been sent to New Alcatraz. As a guard? Or possibly an inmate? She knew nothing about the man, so why did her gut feeling tell her to trust him? How had his arm been injured? It must have happened here. Schultz and Schmidt would have repaired him if it had occurred in the Institute and it looked too fresh.
Rachel sighed. Whatever Kyle wanted to see her about, it had set her on edge. She paid close attention to the monitors lest she screwed up again.
Blom appeared on cue when her shift ended and escorted her to Kyle’s quarters. He knocked on the door. A few seconds later it slid open.
“Thanks, Blom. You may go. Rachel, come in.” There was no smile this time, just a strange glint in his eyes when he gazed at her.
She grimaced. “Kyle, I’m sorry. I know I made a mistake, and—”
“What are you talking about?” He gave her a quizzical look.
“Oh, I thought—”
“It’s natural to make errors when learning a new job. There were no disasters called to my attention today, so your mistake couldn’t have been much.” He took her arm and escorted her to the seating area. “No, I thought we’d have an aperitif together, get to know each other. I haven’t enjoyed the company of a beautiful woman for a long time.”
“I see.” She was tongue tied. Never having learned social skills, she had no idea what to say or do, and the smile on his face set her on edge. It was far from charming, more of a leer.
“Please, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” He motioned toward a couch.
Hesitantly, she sat as he instructed and gazed around the room. The suite was luxurious, filled with ultra-modern furniture, sculptures, vases with fake flowers, and abstract paintings on the walls. What a contrast to her room and the prison. He handed her a glass filled with red juice. At least, she thought it was juice. “Thank you.” She took a sip and scrunched her nose. It tasted odd, but she didn’t want to seem rude, so she drank it down in a gulp, as if she were taking nasty medicine.
He chuckled. “You’re not used to drinking wine.”
“Oh, is that what it is?” She set the glass down on the table in front of her.
“How old are you, Rachel?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Where were you born, and what made you join the army? You’re very young to have made sergeant. And the uniforms you wear, are those the latest style on Earth?”
Oh my God! Born where? I’ll be damned
if I know. “London. I wanted to be a soldier from when I was a kid.” What else could she say? She’d plucked London from her memory. Jane Eyre, a book she’d read many times, was written by Charlotte Bronte and it was published in London, England.
“Mm, you don’t have a British accent.”
Oh, my stars! Now, what am I going to say? “My parents moved to the United States when I was very young. I grew up in New York. Yes, my uniforms are a new style for female sergeants.” More material from classical novels she’d read and a lie about the uniforms. What if he researched what they were really wearing? She hoped he’d stop asking her personal questions. The warning bells in her brain were going off like sirens. The man may be handsome and charming, but there was definitely something off about him. She would have to do some digging, find out if he was the traitor, but she had to tread carefully. If he discovered exactly why she was on New Alcatraz, he would imprison her.
“Do you have a young man waiting for you on Earth?”
“Eh... no.”
“You’re not very talkative. I like that. Let me pour you another glass of wine.”
“No, thank you.”
He didn’t listen and filled her glass anyway. This time she sipped it slowly and found once she got used to the flavor, it didn’t taste too bad after all.
He held out a platter filled with crackers, something he called cheese, and some kind of meat. She’d never tasted cheese, so she only took a cracker and a slice of meat.
“You don’t like cheese?”
“No, I mean, yes... I don’t want to spoil my appetite.” She wasn’t about to tell him she’d never tasted many foods.
“Rachel, don’t be shy. Tell me more about yourself. What do you like? Movies? Dancing? Games? Do you have interests, hobbies, do you like sports?”
“I like sports.”
“Great. We have a fantastic gym here. I’ll show it to you after dinner. It helps keep us in shape. Even the prisoners have their own gym.”
Evanescent Page 3