“Have you been here before?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know where to go?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to open the door.”
Lizz stood in front of the heavy metal door. She took a deep breath, the last fresh one she would have for a while, and nodded.
The guard pressed a button. The door swished into the wall. She quickly stepped through the opening and the door immediately closed behind her. Every time it happened she wondered if anyone ever got caught in the doorway.
Lizz held her breath as long as she could then let it out. The next one made her cough. The stench was horrid and would get worse the further she went into the centre of the ship.
Although guards wearing gas masks patrolled the ship, none of them would guide her to Shela’s cell. The first time she’d come to see Shela she’d been given directions. On each successive visit she’d been asked if she remembered them.
Lizz walked along one of the dimly lit hallways keeping to the wall opposite the cages. The noise level was high. Those with family or friends talked loudly to be heard over the jeers and taunts of those without visitors. She tried not to look at the white, bony arms that reached out through the bars and the fingers that grasped at her. The prisoners were only fed enough to keep them alive and they were all begging for the food she carried.
She rounded a corner to the hallway where her sister was caged. She knew that Shela ruled her cage and she was glad. With her spirit, she would survive the trip and maybe the ten years.
Shela reached through the bars and took the bag. She didn’t open it. “So what happened?”
“They’ve chosen a planet.”
“When will we be going?”
“As soon as they make the arrangements.” Lizz could feel the prickling in her eyes.
“Will I see you again?”
“I don’t know.” She felt the tears running down her cheeks.
“Will I be coming back?” Shela looked away as if not really caring about the answer.
“You can try in ten years.”
Shela snorted.
“I’m so sorry,” Lizz cried, reaching through the bars.
Shela looked at her. “What for?”
“For this.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I could have done more.”
“It’s my life.” She put her arms around Lizz and held her awkwardly because of the bars. “I’ll just have to deal with it.”
Chapter Eleven
Royd walked into the pub, sat on a stool at the bar, and ordered a beer. He took a drink, savouring it as he was savouring his victory. He’d been appointed commander of the prison fleet. He was in charge of buying the ships and guiding them to the colony planet.
Flight Director Royd was proud of himself. He’d turned his anger at being passed over for promotion into a way of earning lots of extra money. His original plan had been to make a deal with the suppliers of the fuel and provisions on Pidleon and Lodigan. They would adjust the bills sent to the Global Alliance in their favour and split the difference with him. But he’d been told a deal like that would have to go through Zudo. Even that was lucky. His cousin had had dealings with Zudo and Royd had met him. He contacted Zudo when they landed and met him at the Taproom. After the Assembly, they’d reached an agreement, subject to him being put in charge of guiding the fleet to it. The deal was sealed now.
He ordered another drink and while he waited, an officer he occasionally travelled with came over from a group at a table.
“Did you hear about Gwin?” he asked.
Royd shook his head as he picked up the delivered glass. “What about her?”
“She’s been charged with murder.”
“What?” Royd almost choked on his beer.
“A guy was killed on Harlot Row and her scarf and purse were found beside the body.”
“But how? Why?” Royd sputtered.
“I don’t know any more than that.”
“Where is she?”
The guy shrugged. “Probably in the Low Court cells or maybe in front of the judge.”
“Already?”
“The courts work fast when it’s murder.”
“I never thought of her as a killer.”
“Apparently she is,” the officer said and returned to his table.
Well, good for you, Zudo, Royd thought, lifting his glass slightly in salute. Instead of killing Gwin, Zudo had had her framed for murder. She’d been in jail this morning when she should have been appearing in front of the assembly. At least she was out of the way. He found out she hadn’t mentioned his meeting with Zudo in her report but he’d worried she could tell someone at any time. This would keep her quiet.
Royd felt a twinge for what he had done to Gwin. Her career was over and, basically, so was her life. But at least she had a life. If Zudo had had his way, she’d be dead. She owed him.
Then he shuddered as he realized the callousness of the act. Some innocent guy had been killed to set her up. He suspected that the only reason Zudo hadn’t killed Gwin was because Royd hadn’t yet been given the job of flight director. He must have thought Royd might balk at continuing the arrangement if he did. He suddenly knew he was involved with a person who would do whatever it took to obtain his goal. He’d have to watch himself.
* * *
Mikk ran into the apartment building and up the stairs. It was late. Britt had phoned him in the early afternoon and told him the news about Gwin. He’d been in the middle of the crucial weekly glucose tests on his frozen patients and he hadn’t been able to get away immediately. When he had, he’d headed to the courts.
“Where is Exploratory Officer Gwin?” he’d demanded of the receptionist. When she couldn’t answer immediately, he’d rushed through the first door only to find a court in session. The next door was the same.
Finally a guard had accosted him and he’d asked for Gwin’s whereabouts. “If she’s charged with murder she’s probably in the Low Court cells.”
“How do I get there?”
“You don’t.”
“But I want to see her.”
“Anyone accused of murder is not allowed visitors.”
“But she’s not a murderer.”
“That’s for the court to decide.”
“When will she go before a judge?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Can I be there then?”
“Only the accused and the judge are allowed in the court at that time.”
Mikk clenched his fists and almost screamed with frustration. “She needs someone to defend her,” he yelled. “Where can I go or what can I do to get her some help?”
“You can’t. The evidence is being carefully examined right now and a decision will be made tomorrow.”
Mikk had hung around the building stopping everyone who looked like he or she might be able to answer his questions. No one could. He had never felt so helpless. He wanted to smash in doors, grab people by the neck and shake answers out of them, do anything to find her. When the court building closed he headed over to talk with Britt.
Britt was waiting in her apartment for him. “You look tired,” she said. “Would you like a drink?”
Mikk flopped down on her couch. “Yes, I could use one.”
“Did you find out anything?”
He shook his head.
“Where is she?”
“She’s in the Low Courts cells and goes to court tomorrow.”
“Can we see her?”
“I’ve tried, but once someone is arrested for murder, they’re denied visitors.”
Britt set his drink on the table in front of the couch and sat beside him.
“I don’t understand any of this,” Mikk said as he took a sip.
“I don’t either.”
“She wouldn’t kill anyone.”
“I know, but they found her scarf and purse beside the victim.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
<
br /> “They seem to think it does.”
“I thought she was with you.”
“She was, but we got separated and I couldn’t find her. I finally went home and kept calling her apartment until she answered.”
“And how did she sound?”
“Confused, scared, lost. She had a sore arm. She couldn’t find her purse or scarf and then she discovered the blood stains on her clothes.”
Mikk shook his head. “I don’t like it. It sounds like a set up to me. What did she do yesterday besides going to the Assembly of the Global Alliance?”
“That was it as far as I know. She was happy about them letting her have a say on the planet they were choosing.”
“What say?”
“She didn’t want them to pick her planet and they were going to give her a chance to explain why today.”
“She wouldn’t have missed an opportunity like that, so the only other explanation is that she was framed for the murder.” He shook his head. “But that doesn’t make sense either.”
“I know. She hasn’t done anything to antagonize anyone that I know of. She didn’t step on any toes to get where she is in the Space Organization. She got along with her neighbours. She didn’t buy tobacco or do anything illegal. She lived a model life.”
“What happens if she is found guilty?” Mikk asked.
“She’ll be sent to an orbital prison.”
* * *
Royd was shown into Leader Four’s office. Leader Four came around the side of the desk and shook hands.
“Sit down,” she said and returned to her seat. “I’m glad to see you here so promptly. Now that the relocation of the prisoners has been settled, we must ensure that the transfer happens as quickly as possible.”
She searched through the metal sheets on her desk as she continued. “We’ve had the ships of the prisons inspected and none of them are fit for the flight. So you’ll have to buy enough ships to hold the 2500 prisoners, one hundred guards and the various other people who are being sent on the first passage.”
“Why do you need so many guards?”
“As long as the prisoners are on the journey it is our responsibility to protect everyone else travelling with them. Once they are on the planet, they will be regulated by their own police force. But we know the spaceships will need to be guarded while there to prevent any hijacking attempts.”
“Do I buy new or used ships?” Royd asked. This was better than he thought. He’d expected at least one, possibly two, of the prison ships to be part of the fleet.
“Used ones, of course. But make sure they are in good shape. We don’t want to spend time and money on repairs.”
“Is there a special model you have in mind?”
“We don’t want to be making too many renovations so try for ones from the Extraprobe Series. They had more apartments than any of the other ships. Those could be used for cells and their pleasure areas are large enough to accommodate a number of cots.”
Leader Four leaned across the desk to hand Royd a sheet of metal. “This is a list of all who are going to accompany the prisoners and who will be remaining with the colony for its first year. There will be scientists to monitor the environment, police officers to keep the peace, farmers to teach the prisoners to look after the animals, to work and seed the soil, and to harvest the grain and vegetables, and builders to show them how to construct shelters.”
“Do I buy ships for them?”
“No. They, along with the animals and tools, will be flying in two transports that we’ve arranged for.”
Leader Four added another sheet of metal. “As you can see, there will be a large contingent heading to the colony. Based on the number of weeks that the flight will take and the number of people to feed, this is what we believe will be needed for the total flight.”
Royd looked at the long list.
Leader Four continued. “However, because of the large amount of supplies and equipment being sent for use by the colony, there is a limited amount of room for those provisions.”
Royd nodded. “I’ll figure out how much we will need between here and Lodigan and only purchase that amount.”
“Do you know who to contact there?”
“Yes. I made some preliminary inquiries while on the exploratory trip.”
“Very commendable of you.”
“What about crews for the ships?”
“Hire as many crew members as you need and figure them into the food supply.”
“If I can’t find enough people here, do I hire from other planets?”
“We’ve given that some thought and decided that we need a competent crew for each ship, so aliens will do if necessary.”
A third metal came across the desk. “This is a breakdown of the expenses we believe you will have. We do not expect you to stick to it totally, but we would like you to be within a reasonable range.”
Royd looked at the figures in front of him. They were very generous, more than he had thought the alliance would spend.
“We have a card for you to use for your purchases.” Leader Four handed him a stiff metal card with numbers and symbols on it. “Just present it to the stores and dealers and when they run it through their registers a message will come on screen advising them to send the bill to us.”
Royd wrapped the metal sheets around the card and put them in his pocket.
“Do you have any questions?” Leader Four asked.
“How often do I update you on my progress?” Royd asked, standing.
“We’ll be able to monitor you by the card. You only have to see me again when you return it.”
“Then I’ll get started today.”
Royd left the building. He was elated. He’d been waiting for this moment since they’d discovered the planet. He strutted to the bench in the artificial forest where Zudo waited.
“It’s all arranged,” he said. “I’ve got a card that gives me full rights to purchase everything needed.”
“That’s good.” Zudo pulled a metal sheet from his pocket. “These are the names of the dealers and stores you will shop at here. I’ve told them you will be coming.”
Royd glanced at the list. “I’ve already chosen somewhere I have friends who will work a deal with me.”
“Go to these ones.”
“We’d decided that I would go to the stores of your choosing on Lodigan and Pidleon not here.”
“I’ll be in charge of this endeavour from now on,” Zudo said. “And you will only go to the ones on the list.”
“Hey!” Royd jumped up. “This is my show. I’m the one who asked you to join me.”
“And I’m the one who is running it now,” Zudo said softly, as he rose to his feet.
“I don’t have to take orders from you.”
“You do if you want to become rich.”
“I don’t need you. I could walk away and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.”
“What do you think the Space Organization and the Global Alliance Leaders would do if I told them of our deal? Even if they weren’t sure if they should believe me, with your past record they would take you off program. You would be right back where you were before we met or even worse if the Leaders fired you.”
“And so would you,” Royd said, defiantly. “Without me, you don’t have a chance of making money either.”
Zudo glared at Royd. “I’ve already dealt with one person who was in the way. I will have no trouble getting rid of another. And I’ll bet that whoever takes your place will be eager to discuss a deal with me.”
Royd’s shoulders slumped. Zudo was right. If he didn’t work with him someone else would. And he would probably be dead or in prison like Gwin. He suddenly felt sick. His plan was not going the way it should, the way he’d envisioned. It had gone terribly awry and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Okay, I’ll shop at these places.”
Zudo smiled and slapped Royd on the back. “I knew you’d be smart enough to see it my
way. Here’s the list for the stores and fuelling stations on Lodigan and Pidleon.”
Chapter Twelve
Judge Jym hated just about everything. He hated being a judge in the Low Court, he hated the criminals who appeared before him, and he especially hated old Judge Haro. A year ago, Judge Haro had been in line for an opening in the Litigation Court but had been passed over because of his age. The court was given to Judge Jym who had just received a judgeship after years as a lawyer. While there, he’d listened to important cases and had made rulings of consequence. He’d enjoyed the prestige that went with being a judge, being invited to dinner parties of government officials, being able to afford a larger apartment, having the money to travel.
Then suddenly old Judge Haro accused him of being a client of Harlot Row.
He’d denied it, but had been summoned in front of the Judicial Committee and given a warning. He’d stayed away from the row for a few months, until he’d thought the matter forgotten. But Judge Haro had hired someone to follow him, and just days after his first return visit he had presented the committee with photographs. He began hating the Judicial Committee when they banished him from the Litigation Court to the Low Court.
The Low Court room was small and dingy and the only people who passed through the doors were murderers and drug and tobacco dealers. And he didn’t even have the satisfaction of deciding their guilt. To save the court time and money, a police superintendent and a public arbitrator inspected all the evidence gathered within hours of the arrest. If they thought there was a reasonable doubt, they would send the case to the Criminal Law Court where a lawyer would be provided. If they believed the evidence proved guilt, the case was sent to him in the Low Court, nicknamed the Lowly Court by the rest of the judicial system. Here he sat, pretending to listen to the accused’s side, sometimes making a few comments, then handing down the sentence. And that, too, wasn’t even his decision. Everyone who appeared in front of him was to be sent to the space prisons.
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