Breaker’s Bridge. Colony turned outpost turned prison camp…then handed over to oblivion. Everything here was grey – steel grey, cloud grey, mercurial grey. Everything was at right angles. Boxy. Riveted. Shadowed. Everything was dangerous and nothing was just, fair or good.
Hector had just finished nailing his cellmate’s amputated arm to the yard wall as a reminder to the block that he was still a candidate for risky endeavors, when he saw the young woman standing on the other side of the gate, speaking with the warden. He paused, regarding her from the distance of a hundred yards or so. It had been a long time since he’d seen a woman – nearly seven years. Such a length prompted more than simple rumblings in the loins; he appreciated the sight of her. Feasted on the curve of her shoulder, the flare of her hips and the delicacy of her hands. He didn’t even have any real desire to fuck her. He was too wrapped up in looking at her.
So, it was somewhat of a surprise when the warden comm’ed over the speaker for him to be escorted into the receiving wing.
She was waiting for him there, behind a plasma wall that would poison him and kill him within fifteen seconds were he to touch it. But he could see her. He sighed, very softly. She was lovely. And something about her, like seeing a sapling in a desert. She was good. A good person. That was almost more outstanding than her being female, in a place like this.
“I’ve bribed the officials here to release you,” she said, without preamble. “I want you as security on my ship.”
Hector had a hard time meeting her gaze. She was beautiful, clean, wealthy, and good. “Why?”
“Because I know about the Garbonis Incident,” was her reply.
He chuckled. “That shit landed me here. You want a criminal on your ship? Someone who murdered thirty people?”
“You murdered a team of scientists who were experimenting on children,” the woman answered, her voice steady. “And you saved seventy-six of those children.”
“You look like one of those everyone-deserves-due-process girls,” he gritted wryly.
She stepped closer to the screen. “I am. And that’s why I’m not hiring you as judge or politician, Mr. Varro. You won’t be making decisions. I just want someone whose heart is in the right place, and can tear someone’s face off if necessary.”
Hector almost smiled, but he held himself in check. “What makes you think I won’t just wait ‘til we’re up in all that black, slaughter the crew, and steal the ship?”
“A pervasive and lasting sense of gratitude to me?” she suggested.
Now he did smile. “For springing me? Lady, it’d be a nice thing, but I’ve already resigned myself to stayin’ here for the duration. It wouldn’t -…”
“No, Mr. Varro. Not for that. For this.” And she drew a slim datapad out of her purse. It looked worn and somewhat on the cheap side. But the effect it had on Hector was staggering. He literally lost his breath. When he gasped in an inhale, his hands shook as he reached for it, half expecting her to withhold it. She didn’t. Almost reverently, she laid it in his hands.
“Where did you get this?” he breathed.
“I knew Zoey,” she answered quietly. “She and I met just after you came here. We were good friends. She’s the one who told me about you. I gave the eulogy at her funeral.”
“And it’s…it’s all here?” he asked.
“All of it. And no copy’s ever been made. She was a very gifted poet, Mr. Varro. And she loved you extraordinarily.”
He caressed the datapad softly. “When they told me she’d died, I -…” But he couldn’t finish. Not in front of a stranger.
“You don’t owe this place anything,” she said gently. “And you’d hate yourself for refusing if you had any idea just how many favors I had to call in to get you sprung. Please say you’ll come aboard.”
Hector didn’t say anything. He just nodded. Lilan, being an actress, knew a cue to make an exit, and took it, walking away silently.
Hector had just finished nailing his cellmate’s amputated arm to the yard wall as a reminder to the block that he was still a candidate for risky endeavors, when he saw the young woman standing on the other side of the gate, speaking with the warden. He paused, regarding her from the distance of a hundred yards or so. It had been a long time since he’d seen a woman – nearly seven years. Such a length prompted more than simple rumblings in the loins; he appreciated the sight of her. Feasted on the curve of her shoulder, the flare of her hips and the delicacy of her hands. He didn’t even have any real desire to fuck her. He was too wrapped up in looking at her.
So, it was somewhat of a surprise when the warden comm’ed over the speaker for him to be escorted into the receiving wing.
She was waiting for him there, behind a plasma wall that would poison him and kill him within fifteen seconds were he to touch it. But he could see her. He sighed, very softly. She was lovely. And something about her, like seeing a sapling in a desert. She was good. A good person. That was almost more outstanding than her being female, in a place like this.
“I’ve bribed the officials here to release you,” she said, without preamble. “I want you as security on my ship.”
Hector had a hard time meeting her gaze. She was beautiful, clean, wealthy, and good. “Why?”
“Because I know about the Garbonis Incident,” was her reply.
He chuckled. “That shit landed me here. You want a criminal on your ship? Someone who murdered thirty people?”
“You murdered a team of scientists who were experimenting on children,” the woman answered, her voice steady. “And you saved seventy-six of those children.”
“You look like one of those everyone-deserves-due-process girls,” he gritted wryly.
She stepped closer to the screen. “I am. And that’s why I’m not hiring you as judge or politician, Mr. Varro. You won’t be making decisions. I just want someone whose heart is in the right place, and can tear someone’s face off if necessary.”
Hector almost smiled, but he held himself in check. “What makes you think I won’t just wait ‘til we’re up in all that black, slaughter the crew, and steal the ship?”
“A pervasive and lasting sense of gratitude to me?” she suggested.
Now he did smile. “For springing me? Lady, it’d be a nice thing, but I’ve already resigned myself to stayin’ here for the duration. It wouldn’t -…”
“No, Mr. Varro. Not for that. For this.” And she drew a slim datapad out of her purse. It looked worn and somewhat on the cheap side. But the effect it had on Hector was staggering. He literally lost his breath. When he gasped in an inhale, his hands shook as he reached for it, half expecting her to withhold it. She didn’t. Almost reverently, she laid it in his hands.
“Where did you get this?” he breathed.
“I knew Zoey,” she answered quietly. “She and I met just after you came here. We were good friends. She’s the one who told me about you. I gave the eulogy at her funeral.”
“And it’s…it’s all here?” he asked.
“All of it. And no copy’s ever been made. She was a very gifted poet, Mr. Varro. And she loved you extraordinarily.”
He caressed the datapad softly. “When they told me she’d died, I -…” But he couldn’t finish. Not in front of a stranger.
“You don’t owe this place anything,” she said gently. “And you’d hate yourself for refusing if you had any idea just how many favors I had to call in to get you sprung. Please say you’ll come aboard.”
Hector didn’t say anything. He just nodded. Lilan, being an actress, knew a cue to make an exit, and took it, walking away silently.
