Khione's Prisoners Page 4

Cyrene drifted outside the Naxos docks, close enough to patch into the local communication network. Zima was suited up, hanging onto the side of the sub.

  In his helmet display he saw a series of communication icons light up. One green icon showed the link to the sub. Below it were two more—a green, ‘listen only’ icon to an office in the station, then a yellow station command icon below it. The yellow icon flickered to the green. The voice in his headset had that tinny sound from being patched through too many systems.

  “This is Senior Director Carlson.” From her tone, she was used to prisoners groveling.

  “This is Ivan Zima, aboard the—”

  “I know who you are, convict. Are you trying to set a record on time added to a sentence?”

  “No, we’re going the other way. Shortest sentence.”

  Carlson snorted. Zima heard the clink of china. Was she enjoying a cup of tea during this?

  “Your vid link should be live,” he said.

  “If this is a picture of your dick, make a recording because it’s the last you’re gonna see of it.”

  “Just look.”

  He could hear Carlson humming to herself. Then he heard the clatter of a dropped cup. “Is that real?”

  “A Keto pup. We got it from the nest in the Promised Land.”

  “Oh my God,” Carlson said softly. She’d already be calculating how big her bonus would be.

  “I’ve got my hand on the cage release,” Zima said.

  “Easy there, convict. That pup is Dumas property. You release it you get two years tacked onto your sentence. Bring it in and I’ll make a deal that will make you very happy.”

  “We’ll deal now.”

  “Not a chance—”

  “I’m pushing down the lever...”

  “Shit, shit.” He heard her muffled voice talking to someone else in the room. Was she sending out their rentacops? Zima had a crawling feeling between his shoulder blades.

  “I want an early release,” Zima said. “My sentence is done right now.”

  “Done. Now bring it in.”

  “And the sub crew gets full bonus.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Tanaka is released too.”

  “Listen to me very carefully, Zima. There’s nothing, nothing, I can do for Tanaka.”

  “Bullshit. He gets released or I push this lever.” How long before station security could suit up?

  “Zima, I’m not screwing with you. You got a civil disturbance conviction, his was criminal. There’s nothing I can do for him.”

  Another crackle signaled someone coming on the line. “Ivan, it’s okay.” Tanaka’s voice was calm. “You’re not getting me out of here. Finish the deal, now.” Tanaka put some urgency on the last word. He must have been thinking of the security divers as well.

  “Fine,” Zima said. It wasn’t ‘fine’ but there was no time to press for more. “Max out the money in Tanaka’s commissary account.”

  “Done,” Carlson said.

  “And Reece is pardoned too.”

  “I’ve heard about her. You’re spending your success on her?”

  “Yeah. And a cash bonus for all prisoners. One year crew salary. Including Tanaka for when he gets out.”

  “Ahhh…done. Tanaka’s will be waiting for him. Now was there something else? You want a foot rub too?”

  Zima tapped his helmet control, unsilencing the other station link. “Did you get all that?”

  “You bet I did!” He recognized his arbitrator’s voice. She sounded delighted—maybe she wasn’t used to winning early releases. “I have it and a recording is being relayed to the legal offices.”

  He heard a muttered curse from Carlson. Maybe she’d have honored the deal, maybe she wouldn’t.

  “One last thing,” Zima said.

  “You’re pushing it, convict.”

  He told her and Carlson burst out laughing. “You go right ahead, Zima.”

  Zima took his hand off the cage lever. “Then we’re done here.” He clicked off the station links. He peered inside the cage. “You, you little devil, are going to a lab.”

  He tapped the cage. The pup lashed at his fingers with its grasping tentacles. The silicon claws left bright score marks on the metal. Once the pup was bigger and stronger, it’d rip right through the cage. Zima wondered if the Dumas scientists knew what they were in for. He doubted it, but it wasn’t his problem.

  Tanaka helped him up through the diver’s hatch. They silently worked together, getting Zima out of his helmet, rebreather apparatus, weights and other gear. Both men paused as they felt the submarine roll slightly as it surfaced inside the Naxos’ submarine bay.

  When he was free of the heaviest gear, Zima stopped and looked his question at Tanaka.

  “I killed a man,” Tanaka said. “Murder. I turned myself in.” Tanaka said all this as if he was describing what he had for dinner last night. “Since I was an experienced diver, Dumas fought hard to have me sentenced to being a working prisoner. They’d bribe the arbitration council if they didn’t already own them. I got five years, with no chance of early release. 18 months already finished.”

  Zima nodded, wide eyed at the thought of Tanaka deliberately killing someone. They got the rest of his gear off as the submarine thumped into place along the pier. The two walked into the passage.

  Meacham was already up the ladder to the hatch in the top of the hull. The engineer swung the hatch open, letting in the light and noise from the docks.

  Zima turned at the sound of clicks from the direction of the bridge. The hatch swung aside.

  “Pilot?” Zima asked.

  “Who else?” Her voice still had the mechanical buzz. Pilot, Gianna, was a short, slender woman. Her black hair had a streak of white hair running straight back from her temple. If you drew a line down from that streak, it’d lined up with an eye filmed over by milky cataracts. Her good eye was a brilliant green. She had a medical collar around her throat with a silver box over where her vocal cords would be.

  “Couldn’t let you go without congratulating you,” she said. It was the box that made the crackling sound, Zima realized, not the overhead speakers.

  “I didn’t believe you ever came out.”

  “It’s not often,” Tanaka said.

  “I used to come out after the crews had settled in. These days not many are getting that far. Except for this guy.” Gianna hooked an arm through Tanaka’s. “He’ll be around for a while to come.”

  Zima tried not to look at her scars. Did Tanaka’s sentence have something to do with them? He wanted to know, but didn’t think he should ask. Instead he said, “You could have died in the Promised Land.”

  Tanaka tipped his head towards Reece’s berth. “I’ve been here eighteen months, remember? You know how many prisoners I’ve seen finish their sentences on time? Three. Guess how many got an early release? None.

  “I’ve watched diver after diver end up like Reece.” Zima realized that was why Tanaka was taking care of Reece’s gear. He was doing what he could to keep her alive.

  “Knowing a couple people got out of here will keep me going for a long time,” Tanaka said. Zima held out his hand. Instead Tanaka swept him into a hug. Pilot laughed. When Tanaka released him she kissed Zima on each cheek.

  Zima pulled his duffel bag from his room. “One more goodbye to make.”

  Meacham stood at the foot of the ladder. He stuck out his hand. “That was the damnedest stunt—”

  Zima’s fist cracked into the side of Meacham’s head. The mechanic staggered backwards and fell onto his backside. Meacham stared up at him, then burst out laughing. “You idiot! You’re not going anywhere now. Shit, you’ll get a year for this. And you know what? Breakfast, lunch and dinner, I’m gonna remind you of what you threw away.”

  Zima shouldered his duffel. “You didn’t hear my deal with Carlson.” Zima stepped over Meacham. Without looking back, he said, “When I told her I wanted to kick your ass, she didn’t hesitate to agree.”

&nbs
p; Zima heard laughter as he climbed up the ladder. He bent over to take a final look back. Tanaka slumped against the passage wall, laughing so hard, tears ran down his face. Tanaka weakly raised a hand to wave, then collapsed in gales of laughter. Zima waved back, then stepped up and out of the Cyrene.

  The End

  For More Information

  I hope you enjoyed this story. If you have a moment, please review the book on Amazon. Reviews help me keep writing!

  My other books, such as ‘A Taste of Alchemy’ and ‘No Word for Surrender’ are also available on Amazon.

  If you’re interested in contacting me, join the discussion on my Facebook page at @paulbutlerbooks or email me at paul@paulbutlerbooks.com.

  Thanks for reading!

  Paul Butler

  About the Author

  Paul Butler is veteran of the US Army, works for the American Red Cross, and lived in the U.S., Germany, Japan, and Korea. He and his wife Donna live outside of Cadiz, Spain with their dogs, Akihiko and Renato.