Sharon L Reddy
L'Gem
(c) 2011, 2012
Target Yonder
ISBN 978-1-58338-962-1
Part One
Consensus Rebellion
Chapter One
Harim picked up the 'new one' and carried him to his chosen place in the pen. It wasn't easy. The kid was pretty big and he wasn't. The others watched in surprise. Harim knew he was the one person they hadn't expected to "claim" him. He usually just sat in his place and ignored them and everything they did. No one messed with him because they all knew he was crazy. He'd made sure they believed it. He'd smiled when he'd been the new one and while he killed the "big man," then had just chosen a place and ignored the others as they fought over who would be "big man," when they realized he didn't want to be.
He got the big young man into his corner and gently began cleaning him. He didn't know who he was, but the guards had made sure he wouldn't be able to fight off the ones who had "initiated" him before they pitched him into the pen. Anyone the guards did that to was special. They already feared him. It had been what they'd done to him, but they'd been even more thorough with the big kid. They'd left the stasis cuffs on him after they'd beaten him. They disappeared while he was checking how bad he was injured.
If the kid had been badly damaged, the comp would note it and call medical. The warden would be upset if the med comp recorded the kid had been thrown in with his hands and arms immobilized. Not that it was done, just that it was recorded. Harim said, "Quick-heal salve and anti-bio inoc." A squeeze tube of salve and slap inject of full-spectrum inoculant dropped into his corner.
Yes, the kid made the guards nervous. That made two of them. He knew why he did. He wondered why the new one did. He intended to find out. The kid stirred and moaned.
"It's over. I couldn't do anything until it was, but they won't try it again. I killed the one who led the bunch who welcomed me. I enjoyed it."
"There was a leader?"
"Yeah, but this time it was a guard. They don't get close enough to kill. You got made pliable before they tossed you in."
"Yes, I remember it quite well. I'd been made 'pliable' several times before I was dropped three meters into a mob. I like the way you dealt with it. I took note of who enjoyed it, but I won't hunt them out. I'll just kill them all. Starting with the one who runs the place. Of course, if one of them volunteers to be first, I'll kill him second, or third. Bard."
"Harim. I'm an assassin. Why are they afraid of you?"
"Oh, I'm a genius, big, good-looking, and several others. I'm also extremely aggravated they hurt a large number of people taking me. It frustrated them a great deal when they found out someone managed to keep them from killing them and I didn't have what they wanted."
"A rebel?"
"I wasn't. I was a student. There weren't supposed to be any witnesses they grabbed me. I imagine they made a lot of rebels when they blew the physics lab. I thought it was humorous they blew up the work on the shield that saved the others. They didn't. I was convicted of doing it. That's why I'm here and not in with rebels. The crime was attempted murder of a professor. The motive was a bad grade. The judge didn't ask why the professor and my grades were not presented as proof at my trial. I intend to kill him too. All men. I rather like that. I'd kill a woman if she deserved it, but I'm rather glad none of them were. I'd just really begun to notice how nice they are."
"What?"
"I didn't go to school with others until I went to the university on a research project. I hadn't met any until then. I was working my way up to asking one to go to a dance. Since she's still alive, I may still get the chance."
"Not unless you get out of here. The probability is pretty small."
"It wouldn't be if someone did know what they wanted me to tell them. Of course, that's not likely. It would require we be wrong about a rather large number of things being physical laws."
"They do a truth scan?"
"How else would they be sure I didn't really know anything and would be dangerous to put in with real rebels? I hurt like hell, but those look like you assured I'll feel better. Thank you."
"Easy. You ended up in med for massive infection, the warden would have to write a report. Put him in with me if you don't want to explain a lot of bodies. I like him."
"Full monitoring?"
"This corner is still interesting. I can read and know if someone short-changes me. I got the rest of my education in the Roper slums. I was convicted of murder, once. I figure some people were unhappy the woman I killed wasn't paying them to look the other way when her people were selling drugs to kids anymore. Interesting the unknown person who hired me wanted her dead for that reason and not because she was a competitor. It's why I took the job."
"How do you know?"
"No one took over the business. It was a guarantee whoever hired me made. School kids can't buy dream dust in Roper. People who sell it to them get dead. Five years and it's still that way."
"Dream dust is a fast way to die."
"Not as fast as selling it to a kid in Roper. She was paying for protection for the pushers too. Now no one does. I watch the casts. Kids aren't dying of dream dust OD in my old neighborhood, but every so often someone else does. I smile every time I see a face I remember."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-three standard. You?"
"Eighteen. The statement about your education indicates you're interested in an exchange."
"Five years is long enough to get bored. It's also long enough to start thinking of another man as pretty."
"I'm rather a practical sort and I prefer you to them."
Harim smiled. Bard had understood the truth of the place fast. No one was there for less than life. They weren't there for rehab and they didn't get paroles. The government of Gradelode didn't "waste" any money on the one and didn't grant the other. Even if the government fell, those in the maximum security facility wouldn't be freed. They'd probably get some counseling, but they wouldn't be freed. They'd been judged too dangerous to society to ever be allowed to rejoin it. They were "without remorse or regret." The evidence came from their own minds, or so the government comp records said.
"Tell me how it works."
"You work, you eat. If you're too crazy, you get dead. Don't kill anyone without a reason."
"The guards don't stop it?"
"The guards are up there. We're down here. There is a door. It doesn't open unless everyone is in a cell and those are locked. We can lock them from inside, but the outside locks are in their control. If you kill someone in front of everyone else, they figure you had a reason or you'd get dead too. Locking us all up together keeps the population down to what the facility will hold."
"You have a cell to yourself?"
"Several do. A man made a poison. Killed himself, too. Once in awhile one does go crazy in here. That one took a bunch with him, everyone over sixty. The note said he was having a party and wanted all his old friends to be there. We all told them to have a good time when the guards carried their bodies out. That's the only way out, Kid. He knew it."
"I'm too young to believe that. I also didn't do anything wrong. Several people know it. One of them may decide to do something about it. Right now, I need that hope. You don't belong here, either."
"You don't think so?"
"You may have killed for pay, but I'd bet you never killed anyone who you weren't sure didn't deserve to die."
"Kid, you need an education."
"I hope you think the math and physics I teach you are worth it as a trade for what you teach me. I know they won't be of the same value. You already know how to stay alive in here."
Ritzi finally learned what happened to Bard. She'd reread the "public" document it had taken almost three seasons of cracking codes to get. When she had, she made a comm call.
"Tarse, I changed my mind. A walk by the lake in evening would be nice."
"I'd about given up hope you find me interesting."
"See you at nineteen."
"May I brag?"
"About a walk?"
"Several have been saying I'm an idiot for trying for quite some time."
"A walk, Tarse, and I'll probably bring along the chapter I'm working on for you to read."
"It's going to be a great story."
"So far, it's the opening chapters of a work of fiction."
"I knew it was fiction. Nonfiction wouldn't require work."
"It wouldn't be as much of a challenge, just a longer research paper. Nineteen."
"I'll be there."
Tarse got off the comm and whooped. Ritzi was 'in.' She'd found something about Bard and the government was going to fall! And if she'd found something, the gov no longer had a secure file on the planet. He commed Lima.
"I finally got a date with Ritzi."
"I thought that was not going to happen."
"She's working on fiction. I was warned I'd probably get a chapter to read. I plan to be a very good editor, so I get more walks by the lake."
"You got her out of the apt complex too?!"
"She always liked 'fresh air.' I don't know if I'll get anywhere, but I'm no longer worried. Fiction isn't broken heart."
"I'll tell Brimmy the hero she's been sighing about is in a doc file. Fiction, she always did like a challenge."
"I noticed."
"Brush up on your lit, and probably everything else. She had two frustrations. The hero and physical law. She may be working on a plausible-looking way around the law to get the hero in the book."
"Ow. Well, I'll take editor, who knows what will look plausible, as a starting point. If she does get around it, you'll be drafted to check the math she does to support it-would-work-if-this-physical-law-wasn't. 'Um, you didn't change any signs,' won't get me in for tea and talk."
"Math is just math. It can't change physical law, but she may be able to make it look like it does. I'll help. So will Brimmy, Garil and Panner. We've been worried about you."
"She's been dream girl a long time. It'll be a good story, and I'll remind her the math doesn't go in it."
"Even if it is good fiction. We'll help remind her the hero isn't real and you are, too."
"Thank you. I'm pulling up a creative writing text."
"Good luck getting the editor job."
That evening, Tarse read the document and told Ritzi the cover Lima had set up for continuing Bard's work proving impossible wasn't. She sat down on the grass beside the lake and sighed.
"I don't know if I can. In there, I don't know if he survived ten days."
"We have where he started, and he's… too pretty to waste."
"I don't want that in the story."
"Time to take it over from the current authors."
"Agreed. Let's get a couple chapters dictated for my watchers to find."
"I have an idea on after."
"You're an optimist."
"I'm alive."
"Yes, and so are we."
Bard stood up. Harim stopped working on the assignment and stood up beside him. Brinlo was about to make a mistake and 'volunteer.' He was brutal and sly, but stupid. The seven with him were just brutal and stupid. They were all incapable of extrapolation. They'd seen lessons in the corner, and all had noticed gorgeous tight ass, but none of them had figured out the baggy shirt hid rippling muscle, and the lessons in the cell weren't all math and science. The number had been in their repertoire since they began building routines. It was Brinlo's preferred.
"Eight."
"Number one. A warning seems polite. Go away, Brinlo! I don't like you and interruptions of my student's work irritates me!"
"It's time for your lessons, pretty boy, and to end my irritation! Permanently!"
"Number one."
"I like you, too. We have an audience."
"Let's give them a show."
The eight rushed them and the rush died, though they only had to kill three. Harim sat down to work on his assignment. Bard moved 'things' beyond their corner perimeter, then sat down to watch his student solve the equation. He also watched both sections of the audience. If the guards leaned far enough over for a good look, they'd add one or two of them to the trash to be removed, but he didn't expect it. He did expect the other section of the audience to add one or two. Some would-be heads might roll before one assembled a sturdy enough neck. He had no preferences on who became the head or the number in the neck. He and Harim practiced all the routines, anyway. When Harim finished the assignment, they went to their cell. The audience obviously didn't know the show was over.
"King and the top candidates for the throne, the line of succession didn't go any farther."
"It'll be rebuilt, Bard, but it may be less crowded when it is. You feel?"
"Some satisfaction the preparation was effective."
"Appropriate. I chose the correct function."
"You did, and solved it correctly. Perfect score."
"So was yours, and it was final exam for the term."
"I want the degree, but I'd prefer it on another campus. This one is extremely low in aesthetic appeal."
"True, your only nice view is when you request your image."
"You're as aesthetically pleasing as I am, Harim. It's just obvious the pretty thing is deadly."
"They've learned you have fangs, too. Our corner perimeter will move out and there will be more space around our table at meals."
"They'll be a bit less unappealing without Brinlo demonstrating the efficacy of his gastric function in loud and odorous fashion. They made an error. If they'd put me with rebels, I'd have had more students, but learned less."
"Let's watch some porn."
"Harim, I don't need it any longer."
"I didn't expect to hear that."
"Nice surprises have been too rare in your life."
"It's time to watch for those that haven't been."
Ritzi remembered the most, but it took all six of them to reconstruct what Bard had been working on. They began to gather by the lake to talk about the story. They always talked about it in that way. Ritzi dictated the story frame around the work they were doing. Tarse studied writing and editing.
The group didn't get quiet or change the subject when they were obviously monitored and secret monitoring agreed. Since the equipment was too expensive to waste, Internal Security began using it to monitor others, not listen to six discuss "an at least plausible-sounding set of physical laws so the magic sword makes sense." As soon as Ritzi's 'crack' showed the equipment was in use elsewhere, they began constructing the theory for the shield to go with the sword. It was simpler. It had already been done once and didn't quite prove physical laws were only rules in most circumstances.
Tarse began the other preparations. His family assured there was always cash 'laying around,' to buy non-notice. Ritzi kept watch and made sure private enterprise wasn't reported.
'A while' before someone tried again wasn't as long as Bard and Harim expected. The population had been reduced by two more, but the new head decided it should be four. Harim stood, put his hands behind his back and stretched. Bard tucked his thick, light brown curls behind his ears. Harim glanced up and he knew it had taken longer to get prepared than it should have.
"Notched fingernail."
"Lack of method for efficient smoothing noted. Next time use a bunk pad cover."
"Breaking it was lack of attention to a damaged breakfast tray edge. I've been working on it on my pants."
"Since you didn't attract my attention, you got enough bonus points to start even. When we're done, make sure any dead died of obvious causes
."
"Number fourteen, unless they rearrange before they get here."
"A few will shuffle to the back, but the shape of the pack shouldn't change enough for thirteen or fifteen."
"Packs follow leaders. Tactics require cooperation and thought. They aren't scared enough to work at either, yet."
"Yet. But after this, those capable of them may decide the effort is necessary."
It took awhile and they took some damage. The number had grown as they battled. Both knew they'd have been overwhelmed if there had been more, or it had happened sooner. After all they'd had to kill were dead of 'obvious' causes, they walked to their cell, allowing no damage to be seen. When they got there, it was locked against them.
"Open it or we'll just kill the rest of them, so we don't have to watch behind us."
"I like the idea, Harim. I'm sure it would be difficult for the warden to explain, and less time-consuming. They made you lose track of where you were in the assignment."
"And I was doing well on it. They're becoming easier."
"That's what good practice does. Let's go kill them. Which method should we use? Six, seven or nine?"
"Seven is fastest, and I'm a little tired."
The door opened as they turned away. Harim left it open. Bard raised an eyebrow. Harim widened his nostrils and he understood. They sat down in the cell doorway and use their limited supply of scavenged antiseptic and quick-heal salve. The care with which they cleaned their fingernails wasn't noticeable, but no one had noticed they were filed to a short point, either.
As soon as they finished that, Harim went into the cell and began handing things to Bard. He stacked them outside. They 'leapfrogged' them down the cell block. Harim didn't carry anything. They collected things they wanted from now-vacant cells, as they went. It didn't take long. By the afternoon work buzzer, they'd moved. Both chose new jobs.
At dinner, both took trays from other men. After dinner, they changed cells again. They changed once more before doors were locked. When they were, Harim pinched his nostrils and Bard smiled and began getting the cell clean, carefully missing crud in corners. When they flipped over bunk pads, they found a treasure trove.
"Anti-bio, quick-heal, antiseptic, analgesic! Brinlo collected from everyone."
"The new head wasn't secure enough to take the king's cell yet, and everyone else stayed out until the new king was known. And they have to start over."
"It'll be slower."
"We took the king cell. I am tempted to just avoid further problems, but you and I aren't mad animals and there might be others who aren't."
"I'm an assassin. I only took jobs I'd enjoy, but that's what I am."
"A more difficult profession than most in which to maintain an ethical standard. This cell is point two seven meters wider there to there. It's an interesting number. The assignment is figure out why it's not point two five."
"The contract was expensive, but cost overruns enormous and the 'skilled labor' untrained and poorly paid."
"Those are the constants. Find the variable that solves the equation."
"Point oh two here, point oh two seven there. Now what?"
"Which wall is off point oh two? Is it even top to bottom and front to back?"
"Application!"
"Solving the equations has become practice, not work."
"A new term?"
"Yes."
"Yes! Lay down. We have enough to heal us, not just make us not obviously weakened. At some point, some may decide it's safer looking out from our corner than looking in. All are remorseless killers, but all are not brutes or beasts."
"They're not all stupid, either. Another reason we took this cell?"
"There were several. Tomorrow, I'll see if the ones opposite and below are point two seven meters wider."
"You're off to a good start on the new term."
"So are you. Today, we made survival easier for many."
"No, they made it easier. We just passed out the failure slips."
"I like that."
After morning work session, two men crossed the yard and sat down just outside the corner 'perimeter.' Both had a stylus and datpad. Bard walked over and wrote two questions on each pad. Both quickly wrote answers and showed him.
"How much education?"
"Secondary plus one."
"Secondary plus three."
"Who did you kill?"
"A rapist, in IS uniform."
"My mother."
"She must have been a monster."
"She was."
"Call names and how long you've been here, so I know how much basic review is needed."
"Pans, nine years."
"Choppy, twelve years. There are two open jobs on the kitchen morning shift, as of yesterday after lunch."
"I don't know how to cook."
"The food wouldn't get better if you did."
"It starts early, Bard, but afternoons are open time."
"You like the schedule, Harim?"
"It's considered a good job. It can be finished early."
"Not much, but usually."
"I'm already bored with what looked less boring. We're taking kitchen morning shift! Light and unlock early enough! You two cellmates?"
"Yes, two twenty-four."
"Two seventy-three is open."
"We'll move. It's closer to the kitchen."
"And the classrooms, outside and in."
After lunch the next day, three worked assignments in the corner. Three more of the early kitchen shift arrived, each with a stylus and pad and began class. After dinner, Bard touched Harim on the shoulder. The huge dark man with a few threads of white in his hair was approaching alone. Harim had said he was called "Lone" and men carefully left him that way. The seven sat still and waited. Lone walked to the perimeter and sat down beside, but not crowding, him.
"Thank you."
"You're most assuredly welcome. Doctor Carter Lopez, Ph.D. Sociology. I executed eighty-seven. I was disappointed there weren't more. I'd still like to add to the total, but for twenty-six years, all I've done is step on roaches that got too close. You're not a roach, and this corner is attractively clean. I'm in cell one seventy-five. I appreciate quiet upstairs tenants."
"Vermin removal was Harim's career choice. I'm an apprentice gaining experience in reducing infesting populations. You were careful. None of the hotel staff were injured."
"They were why there were only eighty-seven, not two hundred thirty. I'm not a rebel. Government is an institution. An institution is a thing. Things cannot be evil. Only people can make the choice to be. 'The government' is very nice camouflage for the individuals who have."
"Sociopathy is a prerequisite for high positions in the bureaucracy. Cruelty is for enforcement. Combined, they're the qualifications for minister. The government must fall. The disease has permeated the structure too deeply for mere cleansing."
"Our constitution was a thing of beauty. The mining corps began eviscerating it, with purchased amendments, before the ink was dry. I agree. It can't be saved, only used as an example of the growth of a malignant bureaucratic oligarchy."
"Who else in here is a remorseless murderer of the deserving?"
"Many. You've begun the segregation."
"No, Pans and Choppy began it. You chose to assist. Lone?"
"Leave me 'lone!"
"You survived, Doctor. I intend to help you add to the total. However, right now, the only plan I can put into effect is a lesson plan."
"If you find one more interested in social than physical science, I'd enjoy doing one."
"I'm sure you've kept up with developments in the field."
"Every hour of yard time was a supplement, and every newscast an example."
"I wasn't a rebel."
"Neither was I, but I did kill eighty-seven members of the oligarchy."
"I hadn't killed, or even attempted to, before."
"You still haven't. You just smashed roaches."
"I distinctly remember them being too tall to stomp."
"They only put the biggest in here. Shit, a new one, and he's just a kid."
"There's no head. Let's break tradition."
"We could get killed trying. Let's go."
"Harim, I didn't like initiation. I suspect most didn't and many don't."
"Many do, but they don't prefer it to alive."
"Back off!"
"Leave him 'lone!"
"We haven't killed…several today."
"You could be very sick."
"Died of food poisoning, someone must have forgotten to clean something."
"It's traditional, Choppy!"
"Do you like providing the guards with a good show, Belp?! How much do they get for selling vid of your pock going in and out? Or do they just use it to get tods nice and juicy?"
The men quieted in a wave that moved from the back of the 'mob' to the wall. The many men who always ignored 'initiation,' took interest. The wedge of eight widened and deepened rapidly as they moved forward. The guards were suddenly holding the very young man above an open area, in silence.
Lone, Bard, and Harim were beneath the boy before the guards could decide what to do. Bard boosted Harim and he grabbed the young man's legs, yanking him out of the guards' hands. Bard and Lone caught them. Bard set Harim down. Lone carried the kid back through the quiet men to the corner. Many followed. He laid the young man in the corner, went back to the perimeter and sat down facing outward. Others sat down beyond him, facing outward. Before long, more joined them, sitting down and facing outward. The stasis cuffs disappeared and quick-heal salve and anti-bio inject dropped into the corner.
"They obviously started initiation early."
"They often do, Bard. You were too big for them to get closer than arms' length. Hello. He decided you shouldn't be dropped into a mob. All of the rest of us were. He was right. A lot didn't like the tradition. I'm Harim. I'm an assassin. I was caught. Once."
"I was a university student. It was inconvenient the people I was to be convicted of killing didn't die, but I was convicted anyway."
"I killed a 'respected businessman.' He was selling kids glide at his store and not mentioning it was laced with dream dust, to increase his regular customers."
"Where?"
"Kellerton."
"Relax. He wouldn't kill you if it was Roper. His 'arrangement' is no one sells it to kids there."
"They don't. I always wondered why."
"It's fatal, and has been six years."
Ritzi tried the function she'd seen Bard write on his data pad 'that' day. After a while, she was just sitting with her mouth open. Every exception disappeared and every rule fit within the framework. She commed Tarse.
"I've got the law of magic. The hero finds the spell for the magic sword the day the wizard's minions capture him, but he doesn't know he has it. It's just a little group of symbols he scribbles on a parchment."
"That's… a very interesting twist. You found something to make it look plausible."
"Yes, my hero found the magic function. The math assures me it fits the laws of magic. I've hit the delete key in disgust, because the magic did whatever the author needed to get out of a corner, too many times to want a total of wasted book purchase price."
"You're trying to find a way to put the math in there."
"I'll remember to call it a 'spell' in the book, and change the symbols. Panner does nice arcane symbol substitution."
"It's going to be a good book."
"I'm going to have to list author team."
"We're having fun helping. I want to see it. If you're sure you've got it…"
"Oh, I'm sure. Now I have to figure out how he discovers it."
"If the wizard's minions got him…"
"Straight to the deepest dungeon in the land, filled with terrible beasts."
"And others the wizard really dislikes."
"Ooh, you have just made my twist more interesting, but it's still a very deep dungeon, and he doesn't know he has the magic sword spell."
"Princess and bribable guard?"
"Tarse, that's not up to your usual standard of suggestions."
"It's not pleasant outside."
"My place is a wreck. I have to move something so I can sit down. Five more would require…tomorrow."
"Mine would require day after. This will sound weird, but it's got a table five can sit at, a toilet, a cold keep and even a stove."
"Your uncle's party flyer?"
"The only time he uses it is when he goes to Bressler U games and they're not playing anything against anyone for…seventeen days. It's closer than Morv's, it won't be noisy and he won't care if we empty the keeper and tea tin."
"And it won't cost a cred a cup."
"Friends' budgets were a consideration in the suggestion. We could even take it somewhere."
"My computer is here."
"It's got one."
"You just want to fly it."
"No, but I want to really use it. It sleeps six."
"Sleeps?!"
"Bressler might get in the tourney and make it through all three days, someday."
"He's a true dreamer."
"He'd like it if I borrowed it to go somewhere it's not cold and wet, so we could work on the book. Shimmer Lake? Everyone has three days off. The side opens and there's a canopy with flaps to make sides, a cabinet with chairs… It won't be crowded and it's sunny and warm there."
"That worked. I am tired of gray and damp!"
"I'll call my uncle and the others. You know where it is."
"Meet at?"
"Put it on a datpad, throw three days of comfortable clothes in a carry and head."
"On my way."
Panner thought it sounded great, especially the no-cost part. Lima succumbed to "sunny." Garil agreed Tarse couldn't have talked Ritzi into it alone, but it was a good start. Brimmy wanted to see the flyer. His uncle said, "Leave it clean." In a half-hour, they were headed for Shimmer Lake, not far from the 'deepest dungeon in the land.' Most of the guards lived in Shimmerton, forty-two K away. There was something closer, but only the six 'remembered' it. Ritzi had assured it.
Lone was surprised when the kid, Demmon, asked if he had a cellmate. Not by the question, by the way he asked it. He looked back at Bard, then down at the kid beside him.
"How did you know that?"
"I recognized you."
"From where?"
"Your picture in my mother's Lorenton U yearbook. She said you with the best prof she ever had, but hers was the only class that you taught because they handed you an 'approved' text and you…"
"Executed eighty-seven people. What was her name?"
"Kammie Lorenz."
"I remember her. She was a good student. Did she get her degree?"
"In biology. She switched majors after… She said the person who wrote the text for her next class had never read one. She returned it and switched majors before the first session. It took her an extra term to graduate, but she likes her job at the aquaculture lab. You don't think about… the pain your parents suffer. I left a note on my mom's door, with why, before they caught me. If I hadn't, she'd have still been sure I had a reason. I told her the police knew, and it was probably a nice income supplement, so she'd never hear my reason, just a motive that made sure… I ended up here."
"The two behind us killed seven in five days, among two large groups, not a few at a time, and they could have killed all. They didn't initiate it. This is the first day I've carried on a conversation in twenty-six years, or told someone my name. Today, we learned how many killed with good reason and aren't beasts, when many stepped forward to end the initiation tradition. The pack of brutes had no leader, or they couldn't have done it. Every man in here has proved he's deadly. Over there somewhere, are women who have. It isn't as brutal as this was
. There aren't as many and we aren't built the same. There are beasts among them, but I suspect they're not in the majority and haven't been for two decades. I wasn't a rebel. I didn't want to overthrow the government, just remove the people controlling it. I became one today. Bard pointed out it's too stained to cleanse."
"I wasn't one, either. There comes a time you must either do what's right or throw away every ideal and ethic. If that's kill because the government supports the evil, it's suddenly clear 'rebel' is part of the choice. I think the gov makes and supplies dream dust. It's always overlooked and no one who sells it is here. How many are here because they killed someone selling it?"
"Many. Most here killed for good reason. It's time."
Lone stood and held his arms out in front of him. Bard watched as seated men were touched and turned to look. The men in the rest of the yard were soon paying attention, too. When they all were, Lone took a deep breath and his deep voice rang through the compound.
"I have been here twenty-six years! Until today, I spoke to none of what I had done! Until today, no one has asked one question! How many are here because they killed one selling dream dust, or to end other evil the police or government knew of, but would not stop?!"
Demmon stood. Harim walked forward and all in the corner, but Bard and Choppy, followed. Men who had been seated stood. Then men began to walk toward the corner from all over the yard. Bard walked forward and shouted he hadn't killed anyone, or tried, but the government was disappointed six students didn't die and he didn't know how to build a "secret weapon" and didn't want him mentioning it. He asked if any others were there because the gov didn't want them mentioning things. All the men still seated around the corner, nine, stood and seventeen more walked forward from other parts of the yard.
A man walked forward and shouted he'd killed someone because he was supplementing his income reporting rebels and reported several who weren't to get the money. Choppy stood and walked forward. Another man shouted he'd killed because he figured the gov would offer the person a job if they knew what he did. More walked forward.
In the span of three minutes, the segregation was complete and all but Lone were stunned by the result. Over two-thirds had walked to the side of the yard around the corner. Once they had, the men on their side of the yard went into the cellblock. In nine minutes, it had been segregated. There were four empty cells between the two ends of the cellblock, and every cell on the high end had 'crud' in the corners.
The guards just watched it happen. The warden had been sent a message when the "initiation" hadn't taken place, but he hadn't answered. The guards knew why. His comm didn't forward messages when he was with a playmate. One said he wouldn't be happy. Another said he'd use the same excuse the women's warden did. It reduced violence and reports to be written. It had happened there over a decade before.
In the morning, work was also segregated. The warden didn't check his messages when he got home. When he did, he wrote a report stating action had been taken to segregate the most violent segment of the population after the "riot" and order was restored.