FollowThis multi-part story is set in the same universe as “The Things We Do For Family
Link to earlier chapters
Rick woke up and looked around. He was still in lockup where he’d been tossed the day before. His captors had hustled him out of his flat and downstairs, throwing him into a waiting APC. The ride over was rough since the vehicle’s suspension seemed nonexistent. He was a miner and miners are used to things like rough rides. What he wasn’t used to was lying on the floor with a couple of sets of heavy boots on his back.
When they arrived at the security facility on the settlement’s upper level, he was ushered inside, processed, and dumped in the cell. It was small, barely big enough for the bed and toilet which were its only features. He had no idea what was happening outside and when he asked, the guard had snarled at him to shut up. Now that the Guards were here, company security was back to its old, arrogant self. He stood up to stretch and groaned. His back was killing him. Really, his entire body ached. Other than getting slammed to the floor during his arrest, he hadn’t suffered any violence. Much of the pain came from accommodations engineered to be uncomfortable. Softening him up for questioning, he guessed. Wonder when that will start? Just then, he heard someone outside his door and it slid open.
“All right, Quentan,” the hall warden said, “Face the wall and put your hands on your head.”
He did as he was told even though he wanted nothing more than to beat the man to within an inch of his life. He didn’t because one of the guardsmen who’d arrested him the day before stood behind the guard, weapon at the ready. A set of shackles was fitted around his ankles, then a belt around his waist. The security guard brought his hands down from his head and shackled them to the belt. He felt as much as heard the man back out of the cell.
“All right,” he said. “Turn around and come out. Slowly.”
Rick did as he was ordered, taking the short, shuffling steps necessitated by the chains around his ankles.
“Hurry the fuck up, old man,” the warden said. “Captain Haryx doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Rick had no idea how long he’d been waiting before Captain Haryx finally came in. It could have been 5 minutes or 5 hours, he couldn’t say. Even with all of his worry about what might be coming, he was relieved the door swung open and Haryx strode through. She stopped and shivered.
“By the maker, it’s cold in here,” she said. She opened the door and yelled, “Turn up the damned heat in this room, you idiots!” She walked over to the table where Rick sat, setting an armored PDC down as she fished a set of keys out of her pocket. “I told those stupid security fucks not to play these damned games,” she said as unlocked the chain that had held Rick in a supremely uncomfortable position while he waited. “A man with your record with the company deserves better no matter what traitorous acts you might have gotten caught up in.”
“Thank you, Captain,” he said as he stretched his back.
She smiled when he said that. If she meant to put Rick at ease, she failed, because Rick could see absolutely nothing behind it. It was, he thought, the most unnerving thing he’d ever seen. Haryx continued, “Plus, it wouldn’t work. You’re smart and you’ve been around too long to fall for such obvious crap.”
Talk about “obvious crap”, Rick thought. Anyone could see that this was some “good cop/bad cop” psychological bullshit and he wasn’t going to fall for it. Haryx returned to the door and called for a pot of stimmy and two cups. Then, she sat down and began to set up her PDC for the interrogation. After a moment, the door opened again and a security guard entered with a tray holding the beverages. After they left, Haryx poured two cups, sliding one across the table to Rick. She noticed his hesitation.
“If I was going to drug you, Quentan, I’d have already done it.” She smiled again and the effect was almost as chilling as the air in the frigid room. “If I did it now, I’d have to wait for it to start working and I don’t have that kind of time to waste.” The smile faded and was replaced by a look of determination. “There’s a lot of work to do here, cleaning up the mess you Radicals made.”
“Hang on,” Rick said, raising his hands, “I am not one of those assholes.”
“Really?” Haryx said. “I’m looking at vid footage of you at multiple Radical events.” She spun the PDC to display several screenshots of him at the execution of the settlement’s managers and the initial council meeting. She swiped across the screen and footage of his pod’s fight with Huelet’s mob flashed up. “You took part in the riot,” she said, swiping again to a photo of him and Davy at the Blasthole. “And, you are known to associate with a member of the Radicals’ leadership.” She turned the pad back around. “Pretty strong evidence, if you ask me.”
This is not good, Rick thought. All of that “evidence” was circumstantial at best and it probably wouldn’t have flown back on Earth. But here in the outer reaches of the system, it was a different story. On Earth, the corporations had to at least give lip service to the law. On Mars, Ceres, and the asteroid belt, they were the law and could do whatever they pleased. It was time for some damage control, he thought.
“Okay,” he said, “I know it looks bad. But, I was trying to take care of my people.” He paused, looking down at his hands. “As for Davy,” he continued, “I had no idea she was involved with those fools. If I had, I’d have pulled her out.”
“Why should I believe you?” Haryx asked.
He remembered his conversation with Davy hiding out during the riot. “I was at Harland, Captain.” He gazed at a point on the wall behind her. “I was 12 years old. My old man got 20 years hard labor in the refinery on Ceres. I got assigned to a pod and most of my wages were garnished to pay for ‘damage’ to company property. Then, they reassigned all the families to different settlements and razed Harland to the ground.” He paused for a moment. “I knew how all this would play out.”
Haryx sat there for a moment. “You know, Quentan,” she said, “I think I believe you. But, I’m going to have to check this out.” She got up. “Sit tight. I shouldn’t be long.”
Haryx said she wouldn’t be long and just as before, time seemed not to exist in this neutral, utterly beige space. It had to be by design because it was an excellent space for interrogating prisoners. Leave someone in here long enough, he thought, and they’ll tell you anything you want just on the promise of getting out of here. He’d never thought of himself as a person who craved stimulation but the time he spent locked in this room, however long it had been, changed that. And, he’d never it take for granted again. At least this time, he could get up and move around a bit. Not much— the room wasn’t that big— but it was better than nothing. He was stretching his back in a vain attempt to work out some of the kinks brought on by his recent accommodations when Haryx returned.
“Have a seat, Quentan,” she said. “There’s some administrative housekeeping to take care and then we’ll get you out of here.”
“Thank god,” Rick said. It came across much more eagerly than he’d intended. Haryx tapped at the screen of the PDC.
“All right,” she said, turning it toward him. “Initial here on the property line.” She sat a small box containing the few items he’d come in with— his ID card, the drawstring from his pants, his own PDC— as signed with his finger. “Now, here,” she said, indicating another box, “affirming that you suffered no physical injuries while in our custody.” Another swipe of his fingertip. “And, last, sign your full name here, stating that you were released on your own recognizance.” He did. “All right,” she said. “That does it. You’re free to go.” She got up to leave.
“What, that’s it?” Rick said. “Just… go. Nothing more?”
“You don’t want to leave?” Haryx asked. “I suppose I can have you returned to your cell if you’d like.”
“No thank you,” Rick said. “It just seems… I don’t know, anticlimactic?”
“Well, I’m done. I don’t know what else you want.”
He thought for a moment. “Are there any of my people in here?” he asked.
“One,” she said.
“Who is it?”
“You know who it is, Quentan.”
“Davy,” he said. She nodded. “Can I see her before I leave?”
Haryx considered the request for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “I can give you 5 minutes but that’s it.
“Thank you, Captain.”
Rick stepped into another interrogation room and the locks clicked with an audible “thunk”. Davy sat across from him, with a too-short chain holding her hunched over on the edge of a chair identical to one Rick had recently occupied. He could feel the sharp edge cutting into his friend’s thighs like he was in it himself. As he sat down, Davy’s head came up and Rick saw a split lip, an eye practically puffed shut, and, when Davy smiled, a missing tooth. He chalked them up to what the Guards referred to as “enhanced interrogation techniques”, thinking that if that’s what could see, what does the rest of her look like? That is fucking torture, he thought.
“So, they’re letting me have visitors,” Davy said. “At least I won’t ‘disappear’.” Her voice was hoarse and croaking, making Rick wonder when she’d last had a drink of water.
“What do you mean, ‘disappear’?” Rick said. “I know that the penal details in the refinery are rough, but you haven’t ‘disappeared.”
Davy gave a short, dark laugh. “It’s cute that you think I’ll last long enough to make it to the refinery,” she said. “I’m a walking dead man. The only question is how they’ll carry out the sentence.”
Rick shook his head. “That’s crazy talk, Davy. You know damn good and well that capital punishment is illegal.”
“Oh Rick,” Davy said, laughing harder. She winced and tried to hold his side but his chain didn’t have enough slack. “Those goddamn goons must have broken some ribs,” she gritted out. Then, “They don’t give a shit about law out here, man. You know that. They can’t let me live. None of us Radicals. Not after what we did.”
Rick realized his friend was right, that he was being naive. In the company’s eyes, Davy and her comrades had to die. They’d killed company execs. Anything less than a life for a life would be seen as weak. “You’re right. I hate it, but you’re right.”
“If we’re lucky, they’ll shoot us and dump our bodies somewhere in the Marineris,” Davy said. “Although, that bitch Haryx said something about banishment.”
Rick’s blood ran cold at that. Banishment wasn’t an official punishment—not yet, at least—but the corporations were pushing for it as a way to deal with violent labor uprisings. It was just what it sounded like. Those subjected to banishment were given a vac suit with 5 days of food, air, and water, and turned out of the settlement. It was a death sentence in all but name as 5 days of food, air, and water were enough to reach another settlement if everything went perfectly. But, out on the sand, in Mars’ super thin atmosphere, things rarely went perfectly. And, with what Davy and her compatriots had done, no other company settlement would take them in if they managed to reach one. “You really think they’ll go that far?” he asked.
“What, you think they won’t?” Davy scoffed. “After all this time, after all we’ve seen these bastards do, do you honestly think there’s any level of depravity they won’t sink to?” She shook his head. “There’s not a shred of humanity left in these fuckers, Rick. All they care about is the almighty credit. And, they’ll let nothing get in the way of that. And they’ll deal with anything that does harshly.”
“Jesus, Davy. Watch what you say. You know they’re listening,” Rick told her.
“This?” he laughed. “This is nothing compared to what I’ve already told them.” Her gaze dropped. “You have no idea what they’ll do to get the information they want.” He looked up again. “And, believe me, you don’t want to know.”
“Oh my god,” Rick said. “I’m going to get out you of here. They can’t do this shit.”
Davy shook her head. “I can never decide if you’re a bootlicker or just incredibly gullible. I’m not out of this.” She paused for a moment. “I’m not sure I’d want to, even if I could.”
That shook Rick. “Wait, you want to die?”
She laughed. “I don’t want to die. But, there’s a possibility that my death might inspire others to rise up.” She paused. “There’s something noble in that, I think.”
“There’s nothing ‘noble’ in being a martyr, Davy,” Rick said. “All your dying will do is deprive the pod, our family, of a valuable member.” He looked down at the table. “And, crush our spirits. Which is really what they want.”
“You’re wrong, Rick,” Davy responded. “Everyone has a limit. Even bootlickers and naive fools like you. One day, they’ll push you too far and you’ll rise up, too.”
Just then, the door opened and Haryx said, “All right, Quentan. Time’s up.”
Rick stood up. “I’m not giving up, Davy. I’ll get you out of this mess somehow.”
His friend just laughed. “Whatever, Rick.”
