The Criminal Streak

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  * * *

  As with the tobacco and drug dealers and other criminals, the murderers were herded aboard the spaceships. They had the clothes they’d received from their families or friends and their blankets. Gwin had only her blanket and the clothes she wore, the same ones that she had been arrested in.

  There were two sizes of apartments on the spaceships. The smaller ones housed two guards, while a door made of bars and four sets of bunk beds had been installed in the larger ones for the murderers. This meant the breaking up of some of the cage gangs, which was done as they were escorted to their rooms. Shela, Gwin, Dore and Iren were put in a room with three women who had been in the cage next to them. Women Shela and her followers had shouted obscenities at, had spit at, had threatened, and had had the same returned. One of those women was the leader of that cage, Conni. The fourth woman of the group was a stranger.

  Two sets of bunks were along each sidewall with the door to the bathroom on the end. Each group took a wall of bunks. Gwin pushed her plate aside and stretched out on her bed but the others sat and stared at each other.

  “So, Conni,” Shela said. “Who’s your new girl?”

  “Rebe from two cages over,” Conni replied.

  “How’d you get her?”

  Conni shrugged. “One of my girls ended up in another room so they moved her in.”

  “How do you want to settle this?”

  “There’s nothing to settle,” Conni sneered. “I’m the boss here.”

  “That’s Marahanee. And I’m it.”

  “I wouldn’t be so confident, if I were you.”

  “What makes you say that?” Shela asked.

  “This does,” she said and she lowered her arm until the end of a knife was sticking out under her sleeve.

  Gwin heard Iren and Dore gasp and turned her head in time to see the knife returned to its hiding place. As if I don’t have enough to worry about, she thought.

  “And I’m supposed to be afraid of that?” Shela asked, with a laugh.

  “She’ll use it on you,” one of Conni’s girls said. “Look what she did to me this morning.” She held out her hand with a bloodstained cloth wrapped around it.

  “Shut up, Syl,” Conni snarled. “Or I’ll cut your other hand.”

  Syl grabbed her good hand as if to protect it and scrambled to the back of her bunk.

  “You don’t have to be afraid if it,” Conni answered Shela’s question. “You have to be afraid of me and when I will use it.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Shela said. “You didn’t scare me on Harlot Row, you don’t scare me now.”

  “A fight over who will be boss,” Conni grinned and rubbed her hands together. “This is going to liven up our flight.”

  “Why don’t you just concede now? You know I’m going to win.”

  “Keep your sense of humour,” Conni said. “You’re going to need it.”

  There was an uneasy silence as the two glared at each other.

  “Why don’t you share?” Gwin asked.

  “Who are you?” Conni demanded.

  “She’s my assistant,” Shela said.

  “Well, tell your assistant to keep her mouth shut.”

  “She can talk any time she wants,” Shela leaned over her bunk to Gwin. “Go ahead.”

  “Why don’t you divide the room and each be in charge of a side,” Gwin said.

  Both Conni and Shela laughed. “She sure is funny,” Conni said.

  “I just can’t see why someone has to get hurt or killed over this room.”

  “You’re in here for murder,” Conni pointed out. “Why are you worried about someone getting killed?”

  “She’s scared it might be her,” another woman with Conni laughed.

  “Did I talk to you, Mari?” Conni scowled.

  Mari clamped her mouth shut.

  “Well, well, well. Look who they put together.”

  Everyone turned to the guard leaning against the bars of the door.

  “Mat,” Conni yelled. She jumped down from her top bunk and rushed to the bars. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m in charge of this hallway.”

  “You’re going with us?”

  “All the way.”

  “Did you manage to smuggle on some liquor?”

  “Is that all I am to you?” Mat sounded hurt. “A purveyor of liquor?”

  “No, you’re a sweet guy and a purveyor of liquor.”

  “So, assuming I did, what are you willing to give me for it?”

  “A run at each of my girls and me for dessert.”

  “I’m not a whore,” Rebe called. “You can’t sell me.”

  “Shut up,” Conni said over her shoulder. “You’re whatever I say you are.”

  “But I don’t….”

  “I said shut up.”

  “What about you, Shela?” Mat looked up over at her sitting on her bunk. “What will you trade?”

  “Mat, you know exactly what I’ve got to offer and you also know it’s much better than anything you’ll get from Conni.”

  “You trull,” Conni spat at Shela. “You’ve never been able to keep up with me in satisfying customers. Why do you think I was able to steal so many of yours?”

  “I believe it was the other way around,” Shela laughed. “Once your clients had me they never went back to you.”

  “There are three other guys working with me,” Mat said. “I’ll leave it up to you to decide who gets the business.”

  “You’ll be coming to me,” Conni said.

  “Don’t be so sure,” Shela said.

  “I can see where this is going to be a very interesting trip,” Mat grinned. “A very interesting trip.”

  * * *

  Flight Director Royd watched Captain Robi of the Spaceship Nostra check his flight panels and confer with his second in command. Tomorrow noon was flight time and last minute preparations and inspections were being made on all the ships and transports. He longed to step in and help, but he was in charge of the fleet. He had control over where they went and when they stopped; he could not tell the captain of any ship how to run it.

  Royd envied the captain as he realized that he would miss flying when this was over. And although he probably could go back to being a captain for the Space Organization he knew he wouldn’t. His idea was to find a planet where he could live cheaply and spend the rest of his life taking luxury cruises, because, although he had been to many planets during his career, he’d been working. It was time to holiday.

  He still couldn’t get over how smoothly everything had gone. Leader Four had suspected nothing, approving all falsified prices for the purchase of the spaceships. Zudo had been true to his word and Royd’s money was in a safe place waiting for his return. More would be added from the gas and provision purchases on Lodigan and Pidleon. He was actually in a state of happiness and looking forward to the flight. The only mar was that Zudo had insisted Thanis accompany him.

  “Call him your bodyguard,” Zudo had said. “Tell the Leaders that you are afraid the prisoners will blame you since you found the planet and are leading the expedition.”

  Royd had had a hard time explaining why he’d suddenly decided to hire a bodyguard, but once he told the Leaders that he was paying personally for him, they’d agreed.

  One of the reasons Royd had decided to make the Nostra his headquarters was because he’d flown on it a few times in his career and liked it. The other was because Gwin was not on it. He’d checked over the loading checklists to find which ship she’d been put on. He wasn’t able to locate her name specifically but he’d found out which orbital prison she’d been taken to and then which ship the murderers from that prison were assigned.

  He didn’t want to see her. Not that she would know anything, and even if she did, who would she tell, but she would probably want him to help her, even expect him to help her.

  By being on a different ship he wouldn’t have to worry about inadvertently walking by her room. And when they landed,
his work was done. He could stay on the ship while everyone and everything was unloaded.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A walker strode along the narrow aisle between the rows of beds and hammocks. He neatly sidestepped a leg that had been stuck out to hamper his way but in doing so, he jostled into Jawn’s hammock. He continued on his walk ignoring Jawn in his swaying hammock. Jawn let the hammock stop on its own.

  “They’re a nuisance,” Tedd said. He had taken the hammock across the aisle from Jawn.

  “I’m thinking of becoming one myself,” Jawn said.

  “Why? It will only get you into trouble.”

  “Yeah, but it will break the monotony.”

  And what a monotony it was. In the days since they had left all he’d done was lie in his hammock or go to the bathroom. He’d found Marc and Tery, also in hammocks, and they’d talked about their arrest and what had happened to them since. And he and Tedd had discussed their situations, but those had been the only distractions.

  Jawn’s thoughts were interrupted by a shouting match two rows over. He turned his head to the wall as the voices rose in anger.

  “Get your leg out of my way.”

  “Why don’t you walk somewhere else?”

  “I can walk wherever I want.”

  Since the journey had begun everyone was allowed to roam the room at will and there were no restrictions as to when they walked or for how long. Some, who were glad to have the freedom after so long in the prison cells, spent most of the day pacing up and down each row in turn. Those who wouldn’t walk, either because they had no energy or no desire, resented the walkers continuously passing their bunks or hammocks. They soon took to jeering them or blocking their way.

  In retaliation, the walkers ‘accidentally’ banged into a leg or arm extended over the side of the bed. This usually brought on a new round of arguments. The lights were left on day and night and the bar door kept locked. Occasionally the guards patrolling the hallway would peer through the bars. If they were tired of listening to the heated discussions, they would turn out the lights and pull a heavy door closed over the bars, putting the room into complete darkness. There would be an immediate silence then muttering and finally yelling as the prisoners reacted to the measure. Some were mad at the ones who had caused the enforced blackout, while others hollered at the guards. No one, however, moved. They couldn’t see where to go. When the lights were turned back on and the door opened, silence reigned for a short time.

  So far, the only fight to take place had happened when Jawn’s group had walked into this room on the Treachen. At first, it had appeared that all the beds were full, then the prisoners at the beginning of the line spotted some empty beds in one corner and headed towards them. The ones behind, seeing that there were only hammocks left, also ran to try to force their way onto them. Fights quickly broke out over who should have possession of the beds.

  Jawn had been at the doorway when a guard halted the line. He watched as three other guards went over to break up the commotion. They didn’t say a word, just raised their trance guns and fired at the three closest convicts. When those fell to the floor, they aimed at the next three who dropped beside the first ones. As soon as the others noticed what was happening, they quickly let go of each other. Those nearest the beds sank onto them while the others reluctantly climbed into hammocks.

  The guard had motioned Jawn to continue into the room. He glanced at the prone convicts as he passed. They couldn’t move, but their eyes pleaded with him for help. He regretted that there was nothing he could do as he walked to a hammock against the wall. Because the beds were so low, his hammock was only waist high. The one above was just above his head. In order to get into either of them the prisoners had to stand on the side of the bed. From his hammock he’d watched the prisoners on the floor as sensation slowly returned to their limbs and they climbed stiffly to their feet.

  For the most part, though, the prisoners were on their own. They got up when they pleased, went to the washroom when they pleased, talked if they wanted, or stared at the walls. The only outside distraction was the bringing of their meals, which if the growling of Jawn’s stomach was any indication, would be soon. Jawn had an air purifier vent near the end of his hammock and at night when it was quieter he could hear the hiss of the air streaming through it when the generator cut in.

  The door clanged open and the guards pulled in the wagon holding the four huge cans of food that was their meal. The nearest prisoners grabbed their plates and swarmed the containers. Others followed and soon there were lines down the rows of beds. Those in the lines waited impatiently while the first ones ladled their food onto their plates. The progress was slow and it wasn’t long before the inevitable mealtime grumbling began.

  “Why do they always get to be first?”

  “Why can’t the guards organize it so that we at the back get to be first sometimes?”

  “They always take so much and we’re left with the dregs.”

  “Yesterday, I didn’t get enough.”

  Once their plates were full, the prisoners headed back to their beds or hammocks to eat. It was a messy business as the food was usually a runny, unidentifiable mixture and they had to use their fingers; most ended up licking it off their plates.

  Jawn didn’t see the value of standing in line. As far as he was concerned the food wasn’t worth fighting over so he stayed in his hammock until the last prisoners were at the containers. Then he picked up his plate and walked over to the cans, peering into them. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find. Every meal, so far, had been the same kind of mush. The only food left was on the ladles and he knocked it off onto his plate then returned to his hammock to eat.

  The guards removed the wagon and replaced it with another holding large cans of water. As the prisoners finished their meal, they went over to the water to wash their plates and hands. When that task was over, the guards took away that wagon, too, and the prisoners were left alone again.

  The lights being left on made it hard to distinguish between day and night but because of receiving three meals a day, the prisoners, who wanted to, were able to keep track of how many days they’d been in space. Jawn was one of them. He didn’t know where they were going or how far away it was, but when they arrived, he would know how many days it had taken them to get there.

  * * *

  Gwin lay on her bunk, hands behind her head, staring at the wall. She’d spent the days since takeoff carefully going over her arrest and had finally admitted to herself that she must have been framed for the murder. She still had no idea why or by whom and that monopolized much of her thoughts. She’d gone over every memory she had of the people she had met, the places she’d been, and the conversations she’d had over the past year and there was nothing she’d said or done that she felt could have triggered this.

  She knew the answer to the mystery was at home. Since boarding the ship she’d formed a plan for her return using her knowledge of space flying and some assumptions she’d made about how the landing and unloading procedure would go. Her plan ended at her landing at the Space Station. Because she had no idea on the reason for the framing, she had no place to start asking questions or looking for clues. Her only hope was that Mikk or Britt might have learned something, for surely they knew she wasn’t a killer.

  Since takeoff, Dore and Iren had tried making conversation with her but because of her planning she’d only responded with a few answering words and generally ignored what was happening around her. But, with that planning done, there was nothing else to do to occupy her time. She couldn’t get up because there was nowhere to go once she did.

  So now she was half-listening to the talk in the cell as she looked around. Iren and Dore were talking on Iren’s bed; Shela was stretched out on her top bunk. Conni was sitting on her bunk watching the door while Rebe and Mari, the other woman on Conni’s side, were on Mari’s bunk. Syl was lying on her bed moaning as she held her bound hand with her good one.

  �
�Does it hurt?” Gwin asked.

  Syl turned to her and nodded. Gwin noticed that Conni also glanced at her.

  “Do you want me to look at it?”

  Syl looked up at Conni’s feet swinging above then shook her head.

  “I’m sure she won’t mind.” Gwin turned towards her. “Would you, Conni?”

  “If it will shut up her whimpering, go ahead.”

  Gwin sat beside Syl and slowly removed the rag from around her hand. The blood had dried to it and she had to pull it off causing Syl to wince in pain. The jagged wound crossed the palm from side to side and it was oozing pus.

  “Your hand is infected,” Gwin said. “We’ll have to send for a doctor.”

  “No, we won’t,” Conni said from above. “She got her inoculation just like the rest of us. It’s supposed to fight any infection.”

  Gwin remembered the nurse telling her the same thing but she also knew that its success rate was only 95%. “Well, it’s not working this time.”

  “You just have to give it awhile.”

  Gwin leaned over and whispered. “Do you want me to send for a doctor?”

  Syl nodded. “If Conni will let you.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Conni demanded jumping off her bunk.

  “She needs a doctor.” Gwin stood.

  “No, she doesn’t. And I’d appreciate it if you would get back to your own bunk.”

  Gwin looked down at Syl and didn’t see Conni’s hands as they came up and pushed her into the wall.

  “Hey,” yelled Shela, throwing herself at Conni and knocking her onto Syl’s bunk. “You leave my girls alone.”