Meck set his cafeteria tray on a steel table and sat. The tray held assorted blobs he could not identify. He pushed his spoon through a watery gray pudding, then glanced about the room.
Other prisoners ate with vigor, shoveling down mouthfuls as they chatted. Meck sighed.
“You get used to it,” a deep voice said.
A broad frame towered overhead. His cellmate, Obryan, had not spoken since Meck arrived. The big man sat and began eating.
“That gray stuff is pure protein,” Obryan noted. “Good for you.”
Meck took a spoonful, grimacing as the gritty gelatin spread across his tongue. He swallowed, then gagged at the metallic aftertaste.
Obryan chuckled. “You’ll get used to it.”
“How come you didn’t talk before?”
“Cafeteria is the only safe place for talking,” said Obryan. “Too much noise for Warden to hear. If you’ve got something to say, say it here.”
Meck nodded. “So, what did you do?”
“What’d I do?”
“Yeah, what crime.”
“Oh.” Obryan wiped his mouth. “Corporate espionage. At least that’s what they called it.”
“Espionage? Really?” Meck saw no similarity to James Bond.
“Well, that was their name for it. I’d call it something else, like ‘creative use of technology.’”
Obryan scraped the last glob of protein from his tray, then sat back.
“See, I learned to build these little drones that looked just like houseflies. I mean, hyper-realistic, the wings, the legs, little red eyes. You wouldn’t know the difference.”
Meck shrugged. “So?”
“So I’d fly my little flies into what you might call sensitive areas. I’d get inside an office building and fly right past security. Then I’d find a nice meeting room or office, and just do the fly-on-the-wall thing. Sometimes I’d pick up some juicy secrets.”
“Which you then sold to the highest bidder,” Meck surmised.
“So, one day this fly of mine goes a little haywire and I lose control of it. I’m freaking out, watching as it buzzes around the office of this big-shot CEO.”
Meck leaned forward, intrigued.
“Damn thing lands right on his bald head. He swats it, and instead of bug guts he finds micro components. They trace them back to me and here I am.”
“Bad luck,” Meck said sympathetically.
Then he grinned. “It really landed on his head?”
“I saw the fly’s view on my monitor. Dude’s dome looked like a polished basketball court. Then, whammo!”
They looked at each other a moment and burst into laughter.
“His head was shiny?” Meck cackled.
“Really shiny, like I needed sunglasses.”
Their laughing fit continued, drawing stares from nearby tables. Just when it seemed over, a fresh wave gripped them, until finally they lay hunched across the table, breathless.
“Why are people dying here?” Meck said abruptly.
Obryan’s flushed face turned serious. “I don’t know. It’s weird.”
“You know any of them?”
“My last cellmate, the guy before you, he was one.”
“How’d he die?”
“Officially? Hanged himself in a utility closet. But that’s a bunch of crap. He was going home in four months. All he could talk about.”
Meck saw concern in Obryan’s bloodhound eyes.
“You’re saying he was murdered?”
“Look, Warden monitors our vital signs. If someone sneezes, he knows it. How could a guy dance around on a rope for two or three minutes, dying, without him knowing?”
“That leaves just two possibilities,” Meck reasoned. “Either Warden was looking the other way, or he was in on it.”
“Damn straight.”
“But why?”
Obryan shrugged. “Maybe he’s got a faulty logic core. Whatever the reason, we’re all in trouble up to our elbows. Anyone could be next.”
“That’s why we need to find out what’s going on,” Meck said. “Will you help me?”
The big man glanced to the table, then back up. “Okay, but we gotta be careful. No talking in the cell. If it can’t wait until mealtime, pass a note.”
Meck nodded. “First step is to gather some intel. Those little fly drones of yours, can you make one here?”
“Probably,” Obryan replied, rubbing his chin. “I bet I could filch the parts I need from the machine shop.”
“Good. In the meantime, I’m going to get myself some face time with Warden.”
“Why would you want that?”
“To learn how he thinks.”
“Just be careful,” Obryan warned. “That dude doesn’t mess around.”
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