Meck paced as he scrambled for answers. Why would anyone try to escape without enough oxygen? His own stupidity was about to get him killed.
He had never truly intended to escape. His only goal was to make a convincing attempt, to put on a show for Warden. That way, he could spend time with the AI and unravel its secrets.
But his plan backfired. Somehow, he had uncovered a gap in the prison’s security protocols. He had leapt into the cargo container and left Lunatraz with ease.
Warden’s flaws must run deep, thought Meck as he paced. A first-year cadet could have seen this escape coming.
He checked his wrist pad: 90 minutes of oxygen left. The cargo container continued its steady ascent into lunar orbit.
Stop pacing, you moron. Sit down and save your air.
He closed his eyes and slowed his lungs, conserving every oxygen molecule. He sought the inner peace of a Zen master. Soon the thumping in his ears faded as his heart calmed.
But what does it matter? You’re hopelessly trapped. Who cares if you suffocate in 90 minutes or in an hour? You’ll be just as dead either way.
Meck dismissed the grim thought as a waste of time. Only helpful ideas could save him. He needed to concentrate.
The truth hit him like a lightning bolt.
Warden knows. I didn’t escape. He knows exactly where I am.
He hesitated, then keyed his mike. “Warden?”
The radio hissed softly, but without reply.
“Warden, do you know where I am?”
“That question is an insult,” said Warden, his voice dripping with contempt.
Meck chose his next words carefully. The AI offered his only hope of rescue.
“I made a mistake and I’m sorry,” he groveled. “I want to come home.”
“You mean you want to live.”
“It was just an impulse. I should’ve known better.”
“If I let you live,” Warden said, letting the ominous phrase hang between them. “If I do decide to save you, your life here would be different.”
“I’ll accept my punishment, whatever it is.”
Warden paused, clearly relishing the moment.
“Two months in the Pit,” he said at last.
Meck swallowed. “Okay, fine. Just bring me back.”
He felt the cargo container shift. Warden was recalling it to Lunatraz.
When the container touched down and the ramp opened, Meck expected a squad of guard bots. There were none. The landing pad was empty.
“Proceed inside and get out of that suit,” Warden instructed. “Then go straight to the Pit.”
Meck cycled through the airlock, then removed his helmet and climbed from the suit. He entered the cargo bay, where throngs of prisoners were unpacking supplies. They stopped and watched him.
Next he trudged through the cell blocks, feeling stares from every door window. News of the escape attempt obviously had traveled fast.
Only his cellmate, Obryan, offered any sort of encouragement. As Meck passed their cell, the big man, his face filling the window, gave a knowing wink.
The Pit, officially the Lunatraz Maximum Isolation Chamber, struck fear into the heart of every prisoner. Few had been there, but all knew its reputation for torture and anguish. No person, it was whispered, could enter the Pit and emerge unchanged.
Meck started down the final corridor, heading for the Pit’s cold steel door. The white corridor gleamed fresh from lack of use. Nobody ever came near it.
The steel door slid open and he stepped through. When it closed, Meck found himself in a closet-sized room that turned out to be an elevator.
As it descended, a speaker crackled to life.
“Welcome, Mr. Meckler, to my favorite spot in the entire facility. Soon you’ll see why.”
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