by Cour M.
“And what about you?” The Doctor asked.
Lesius chuckled bitterly, and took another bite.
“Are you innocent?”
“As the snow on my planet is green,” he swore. “But all the lack of evidence didn’t change that. Now did it?”
“Obviously not. I’m sorry.”
“So, I repeat, what are you innocent of?”
“I’m sorry that I have to put a black mark on your record. I suppose that I’m the only guilty man in the room.”
“A guilty man? Well now, I never thought the Eastern State Penitentiary would ever see one of those. What did you do?”
“I blew something up to save millions of lives.”
“Ah…”
“And this was Mecrellan territory, so you know that was the worst crime of all.”
⌨
When breakfast was finished, the men were ordered to line up in two lines, and the Doctor remained next to Lesius.
“Ah, you’ve got a friend, Lesius?” The guard taunted, “let’s see if it will last.”
“Oh, stop being angry that I don’t like you,” Lesius sneered.
Both the Doctor and Lesius were chained to each other at the feet, and they were ordered to the docking bays, where Lesius was ordered to explain the process to Ten.
“We’re being led to the hover landings,” Lesius explained as they got on some space suits. “Don’t worry, since the temperature on the planet is -184 degrees Celsius, the suits have a heating system within them. Also, each has a backup oxygen tank in case your primary one becomes faulty.”
“What are they going to make us do?”
“Gas pickups. When you’re in prison, it’s the best place to make someone undergo free labor. After all, to be a prisoner is to be a rightful slave. The reason the Penitentiaries are always located on the Jupiters is because we can scoop for gas.”
“And Jupiter is practically all gas,” Ten replied, getting angry, “hence why its nickname has always been the Gas Giant. They have you produce gas scoops?”
“That’s one of the two functions. Half of us are sent out on hover landings for the gas scoops. Yet the other half are oxygen retrievers. Those are—”
“Let me guess. They retrieve oxygen from the parts of Jupiter’s moons that have pockets of oxygen stored in them?”
“Precisely. This dome around the penitentiary remains with breathable air because it is constantly being retrieve by the moons around it. Both jobs are equally dangerous. We use harnesses to anchor us down to our hover lifts, but even those lifelines can break off and we can fall into the layer of Jupiter and burn up in the gas as we are scooping it.”
“How much gas do we have to get each day?”
“At least twenty liters each.”
Once they got their suits on, they entered the docks where the hover-lifts were located.
“I’m surprised that no one has tried to escape on one of these,” Ten wondered.
“Because they all can be tracked by the guards, of course. Besides, where could we go on one? The Penitentiary is the only building on Jupiter. You’d run away just to die? As they boarded one hover-lift while many other prisoners who were chained together boarded theirs, they were given two scoops and then the hover-lifts were turned on. The doors to the docks opened and they all were floating above the surface of Jupiter. While it was not under the pleasantest of circumstances, Ten could not help but marvel at the view around him. They were literally soaring over the surface of Jupiter, with its gases everywhere underneath them. Above them, they saw a spacecraft flying.
“That would be the other prisoners being taken to one of the moons to retrieve some more oxygen,” Lesius replied.
Right after he had mentioned it, Ten got a memory of Eight as he was flying off in one of the ships. Eight was on one of the crafts right then, and while it was his present, it was Ten’s past all at once.
⌨
As they soared along the surface of Jupiter, Lesius was the one who steered the lift, because he knew the spots to get the best gas. Eventually, they reached a spot where Lesius said was preferable, they dropped their large scoop poles and began to suck some gas from the surface. Behind them were some jars that could contain the matter. When their scoops got full, they poured it into the jars. Ten was quiet for a time, staring at the surface of the planet. They were extracting the matter that made Jupiter what it was.
Therefore, maybe there were repercussions.
And maybe that was the answer.
He was interrupted from his thoughts when Lesius began to speak again.
“So,” he began, “do you got a girl back home?”
“Oh, my daughter has been gone for a long time now,” Ten answered.
“I don’t mean that type of girl,” Lesius gurgled, “I mean a woman. Did you leave behind a wife or something like that?”
“I was married once. I outlived her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. But it’s been centuries, so I suppose that its time that I got over it.”
“That doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that one gets over very easily.”
“No, one doesn’t. And perhaps one shouldn’t. Of course, we all eventually move on, you know, and keep going.”
“You haven’t had a woman since then? You got no woman waiting for you?”
“Well, there is one woman. Two in fact.”
“Whoa.”
“No, not in that way. They are my companions. I always travel with friends, you know. Travelling companions. They are out there now, waiting perhaps—thinking that I will come back.”
“That’s how it always starts.”
“You sound like you understand my predicament. Did you have someone when you came here?”
“When I was sent here, she at first stuck it out. Her name was Luka. And she was great. But then over time, it occurred to her that my sentence was indefinite, and all that waiting wore her down. As it was bound to. Eventually, they always leave, you know. No offense, but you must prepare yourself. Both women, what are their names?”
“Martha and Satsuki. Satsuki is new to my life, but Martha has been with me for months. We spent a year apart, but I knew that I would see her one day, so we waited to see each other again.”
“And you think that if she could wait through that, she can wait through anything, right?”
“That’s the amazing thing. I know she will leave. They all leave eventually, or they get left behind. Yet with Martha, it was strange.”
“Why?”
“Because it hurts when she stays. And it also hurts when she leaves. And so, we never know if we should stay together, or leave each other behind. Therefore, we are always doing both at once. I always threatened to leave her eventually, and then I always came back. And I always will, I suppose. And then there’s the impending moment.”
“What moment?”
“The moment where I come back, and she won’t come with me. Then again, I suppose that was terrible of me. I thought I had the right to leave, but she didn’t.”
“Interesting friendship.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Just to warn you though.”
“What?”
“Those types are the ones that spin you around and leave you wondering for all eternity.”
“And never getting an answer. Oh, I know. Believe me, I know. Yet I will see her again. I guarantee that I will.”
“They don’t let anyone visit. Even our women.”
“It doesn’t matter. I will see her again. And even if not, let me tell myself that. Just to give myself some comfort.”
“Suit yourself.”
They continued to scoop the gas from Jupiter’s surface.
⌨
When they returned to the Penitentiary, they were unshackled, and their containers of gas were collected. Next, they were taken back to their cells, where a bucket of clean water was waiting for them, along with a cloth and some water. Ten removed his clothing, a
nd washed his body down, just as he gained memories of Eight doing the same thing in his cell. During his bathing, the small flap at the bottom of the door was opened and a plate of food was pushed in, with some water. Losing his pickiness, Ten ate his food with alacrity.
Once he finished his food, he let the plate remain there, but he rationed the water he was given.
‘You should remember this soon,’ Eight’s thoughts penetrated his mind, ‘for this memory shouldn’t take long to reach you. I was taken to one of Jupiter’s moons—which is amazing, because even its number of moons is the precise same as the original planet—and we collected oxygen from one of its pockets. This is not surprising for me, for it is a known fact that a moon can store pockets of oxygen in certain areas of it. Yet as I was there, I wondered at the effects. Removing oxygen from the moon should have no lingering side effects to the planet, yet it is a natural resource there for a reason. Thus, it makes me wonder. Are they doing harm here? Also, I was accompanied by a fellow prisoner while we did it. He spent most of our acquaintance talking about how he was innocent of his crime. The longer I am here, I get the sense that this is a place that Mecrellas sends the criminals that it is ashamed of. And they are ashamed of them—because they are not guilty. Then again, I admit that I am of the idealist sort. But still, do not attempt to escape. Martha and Satsuki will come. If there’s one thing I am certain on always, it is them.’
All memories eventually ceased, and Ten was left to his own thoughts.
Standing up, he paced back and forth, feeling remorse for Eight’s state. Eight could remember things that would reach him, but he was never to know what was in Ten’s mind. Thus, the link was severed on one side.
However, Ten did not linger on it for long, because his mind was soon preoccupied. Eight was worried that taking oxygen from the moon would have any potential side effects that could not be foreseen, and it made it clearer how much they really were the same man. After all, he had the same thought.
Ten looked around the room, searching for a stone or rock and he eventually found a white one, which was perfect. He picked it up and began to write along the walls. He began to perform some calculations, taking in the circumference of the planet as well as speculating how much gas could be contained on it before the planet could not replenish itself.
Very soon the wall was filled with his theories. And when he was done, he stood back and looked at his findings.
“Amazing!” He cried, “truly everything happens for a reason!”
Their misfortune had a meaning. For now, they found the answer to all the problems.
Chapter 4
The Good Captain
Eight woke up to the sound of the door opening, and he was greeted by the sight of Captain Gilmore.
“Good morning,” Captain Gilmore entered, and sat down pleasantly, opposite Eight. “How are you doing today?”
“I’ve slept in better places, but at least the view is lovely.”
There was no window in the room.
“I was informed that I had to come in here and see to your discipline myself.”
“I didn’t know that I was misbehaving.”
“No, it is not that. I was informed by General Vander.”
“Oh,” Eight rolled his eyes, “I thought prison would at least give me freedom from that man. Have you been near him? He smells.”
“I have not had the pleasure, for I’ve been in here, chained into a world because there are too many innocent people who must always be locked up. Until now. You destroyed two window-bridges and damaged another.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I was not offering my thanks.”
“And yet, I say you’re welcome nonetheless.”
Captain Gilmore rubbed his chin, and looked at the wall.
“You’re one of the infernal peacekeepers.”
“Yes, aren’t we just so sad?”
“Yes, because you don’t notice the levels that you all will sink to. Look at you, here now, in a prison for destroying public property and millions of dollars of investment in our intergalactic games.”
“Because the lives of your people mean nothing to you.”
“It’s an economical way of destroying our criminal class.”
“And the poor?”
“Half of them are never as innocent as you think. No one is, really.”
Captain Gilmore stood up, walked away from the Doctor, and then turned back to him.
“I very well can comprehend the desire for idealism, but that is the very problem with being an idealist. Idealism is tricky. You see, it gives you a desire for peace, but how high is the cost of peace? Oh, that is correct, the price is that you must turn into a fighter: a warrior. Every peacekeeper that I have ever encountered has suffered the painful misfortune to slowly watch as they became the very thing that they detested. For example, there was a time where I very much wished just to be a farmer. I wished to be one of Mecrellas’s citizens who supplied the masses with the healthy produce that they so desperately desired. We therefore were not so different than each other, now were we, Doctor? Look at me. I’m here now, prepared to torture you at the slightest provocation—in fact I don’t even need a reason. I just need an order. And here you are now, about to be tortured, because you destroyed two window-bridges into space, and hurt a third.”
⌨
Eight looked away from him, prepared for what he was about to hear.
“But did you think of all the pain that that would cause? For one, all the energy, scientific analysis, and galactic discoveries it took our scientists to create those windows. And all the correct citizens of Mecrellas that are employed as space maintenance operators, who are constantly tending to those windows, seeing that they are in proper operation, and then also working them. And those people, the hardworking middle class, can earn a living, have families that they support, and look after their parents when they get too old to work. That’s the way of the world, you see, where one society is upheld by a damning shame. And then you all come in, you peacekeepers. And you bring idealism in your wake, where everything can be destroyed, under the excuse that you shall build everything up. But do you really?”
“You can skip right to the point, Captain, where you torture me. It’s not that I don’t find you to be a good conversationalist—it’s just that—well, I don’t find you to be a conversationalist.”
“But I cannot torture you just yet,” Captain Gilmore clapped his hands together, methodically.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not pain that frightens you, Doctor. No, I know your kind all too well. It’s words. Words scare you to death. That’s why you can’t stand silence and perhaps talk as much as you can. Because you are afraid of what others must say. And how it shall hurt you.”
“So speaks the speech-giver. So speaks the one who perhaps never learned the gift of listening.”
“Oh, I listen. I listen to the reality of every situation. And I hear so closely to the balancing out of the universe itself. Does it surprise you, Doctor, to learn that I have seen the stars? And I can tell you, the universe doesn’t need saving, because it often doesn’t want to be saved. You see, destruction, ironically, leads to creation. You want to start a new world, then you wipe away the old one. You want to eliminate your criminal population, and then you give them real consequences to their actions. You are disgusted by the sight of the poor, then you scare the poor into bettering themselves. And with every window that we open into space, we supply jobs, tourist attraction, entertainment, and economy into a world that needs money. And then you come along, and you threaten that—with your notions of peace, Doctor. If you had your way, half of our world would be unemployed, unable to have families because they can’t support them, and without a future. Therefore, do you see? You come to a planet where there is destruction that leads to creation, and your solution is to end the destruction, only so that you can destroy something else. What is the difference between us?”
“I’ll let you know, at the end of all things.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I only have one thing to say to you. And you know what it is. You just don’t want me to say it.”
Captain Gilmore rolled his lip and looked away.
“Perhaps I don’t,” Captain Gilmore admitted at last.
“No, perhaps you don’t.”
“But by the end of this all, I will hear you say one thing as well, Doctor.”
“And what is that?”
“The one thing that you never want to say, I believe.”
“And what would that be?”
“That I was right.”
“Ah, that sentence that you will wait an eternity for.”
“I don’t have all the time in the world to wait—oh, but I do. I have all the time in the world.” He laughed gently, “I have all the time in the world.”
“But I don’t,” Eight responded simply, “so please, be done with it.”
“Yes, perhaps I ought to be, for I still have your other self to visit, don’t I?”
Captain Gilmore raised up a remote, aimed it towards the ceiling, pressed a button and then a forcefield surrounded Eight as he was being tortured in his cell.
Chapter 5
The End of the Conversation
Ten was huddled on the floor, frozen from all the pain that he had endured. An hour had gone by and he had just gotten finished being tortured by the disciplinary light that poured down from the ceiling of his cell. After Captain Gilmore had tortured Eight, he paid his respects to Ten. Captain Gilmore was wiping his brow, tired from the efforts of watching Ten as he had been writhing in pain.
“Now, I am tired and spent,” Captain Gilmore sighed, rolling down his sleeves now that he had been done. He pulled up a chair again and sat down as Ten was crawling toward his bed.
“He looks pathetic,” Captain Gilmore groaned to his guards, “help him lay down on his cot.”
