‘For some people that might not be a bad idea, but it doesn’t work for me. These things can be fought. They can be killed.
What kind of weapons have you got?’
Andrews unlocked his fingers and looked unhappy. ‘This is a prison. Even though there’s nowhere for anyone to escape to on Fiorina, it’s not a good idea to allow prisoners access to firearms. Someone might get the idea they could use them to take over the supply shuttle, or some similar crackbrained idea.
Removing weapons removes the temptations to steal and use them.’
‘No weapons of any kind?’
‘Sorry. This is a modern, civilized prison facility. We’re on the honour system. The men here, though extreme cases, are doing more than just paying their debts to society. They’re functioning as active caretakers. The Company feels that the presence of weapons would intimidate them, to the detriment of their work. Why do you think there are only two supervisors here, myself and Aaron? If not for the system, we couldn’t control this bunch with twenty supervisors and a complete arsenal.’ He paused thoughtfully.
‘There are some large carving knives in the abattoir, a few more in the mess hall and kitchen. Some fire axes scattered about. Nothing terribly formidable.’
Ripley slumped in her chair, muttering disconsolately. ‘Then we’re fucked.’
‘No, you’re fucked,’ the superintendent replied calmly.
‘Confined to the infirmary. Quarantined.’
She gaped at him. ‘But why?’
‘Because you’ve been a problem ever since you showed up here, and I don’t want that problem compounded. It’s my responsibility to deal with this now, whatever it is, and I’ll rest easier knowing where you are at all times. The men are going to be nervous enough as it is. Having you floating around at your leisure poking into places you shouldn’t will be anything but a stabilizing influence.’
‘You can’t do this. I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘I didn’t say that you had. I’m confining you for your own safety. I’m in charge here and I’m exercising my discretion as installation superintendent. Feel free to file an official complaint with a board of inquiry when you get back.’ He smiled paternally.
‘You’ll have it all to yourself, Lieutenant. I think you’ll be safe from any large nasty beasts while you’re there. Right? Yes, that’s a good girl. Mr. Aaron will escort you.’
Ripley rose. ‘You’re making a bad decision.’
‘Somehow I think I’ll manage to live with it. Aaron, after escorting the lieutenant to her new quarters, get going on organizing a search party. Fast. Right now all we have to go on is that babbling Golic. Boggs and Rains may only be injured and waiting for help.’
‘Right, sir.’
‘You’re all wrong on this, Andrews,’ Ripley told him. ‘All wrong. You’re not going to find anybody alive in those tunnels.’
‘We’ll see.’ He followed her with his eyes as his assistant guided her out.
She sat on the cot, sullen and angry. Clemens stood nearby, eyeing her. Aaron’s voice sounding over the intercom system made her look up.
‘Let’s all report to the mess hall. Mr. Andrews wants a meeting. Mess hall, right away, gang.’ A subtle electronic hum punctuated the second-in-command’s brief announcement.
Ripley looked over at the medical officer. ‘Isn’t there any way off Fiorina? An emergency service shuttle? Some damned way to escape?’
Clemens shook his head. ‘This is a prison now, remember?
There’s no way out. Our supply ship comes once every six months.’
‘That’s it?’ She slumped.
‘No reason to panic. They are sending someone to pick you up and investigate this whole mess. Quite soon, I gather.’
‘Really? What’s soon?’
‘I don’t know.’ Clemens was clearly bothered by something other than the unfortunate Murphy’s death. ‘No one’s ever been in a hurry to get here before. It’s always the other way ‘round. Diverting a ship from its regular run is difficult, not to mention expensive as hell. Do you want to tell me what you and Andrews talked about?’
She looked away. ‘No, I don’t. You’d just think I was crazy.’
Her attention wandered to the far corner where the catatonic Golic stood staring blankly at the wall. He looked a lot better since Clemens had cleaned him up.
‘That’s a bit uncharitable,’ the med tech murmured. ‘How are you feeling?’
Ripley licked her lips. ‘Not so hot. Nauseous, sick to my stomach. And pissed off.’
He straightened, nodding to himself. ‘Shock’s starting to set in. Not unexpected, given what you’ve been through recently.
It’s a wonder you’re not over there sharing a blank wall with Golic.’ Walking over, he gave her a cursory examination, then headed for a cabinet, popped the catch, and began fumbling with the contents.
‘I’d best give you another cocktail.’
She saw him working with the injector. ‘No. I need to stay alert.’ Her eyes instinctively considered possible entrances: the air vents, the doorway. But her vision was hazy, her thoughts dulled.
Clemens came toward her, holding the injector in one hand.
‘Look at you. Call that alert? You’re practically falling over. The body’s a hell of an efficient machine, but it’s still just a machine.
Ask too much of it and you risk overload.’
She shoved back a sleeve. ‘Don’t lecture me. I know when I’m pushing things. Just give me the stuff.’
The figure in the corner was mumbling aloud. ‘I don’t know why people blame me for things. Weird, isn’t it? It’s not like I’m perfect or something but, sweet William, I don’t see where some people come off always blaming others for life’s little problems.’
Clemens smiled. ‘That’s quite profound. Thank you, Golic.’
He filled the injector, checking the level.
As she sat there waiting to receive the medication she happened to glance in Golic’s direction and was surprised to see him grinning back at her. His expression was inhuman, devoid of thought — a pure idiot’s delight. She looked away distastefully, her mind on matters of greater import.
‘Are you married?’ the straightjacketed hulk asked unexpectedly.
Ripley started. ‘Me?’
‘You should get married.’ Golic was utterly serious. ‘Have kids. . pretty girl. I know lots of ‘em. Back home. They always like me. You’re gonna die too.’ He began to whistle to himself.
‘Are you?’ Clemens inquired.
‘What?’
‘Married.’
‘Why?’
‘Just curious.’
‘No.’ He came toward her, the injector hanging from his fingers. ‘How about leveling with me?’
He hesitated. ‘Could you be a little more specific?’
‘When I asked you how you got assigned here you avoided the question. When I asked you about the prison ID tattoo on the back of your head you ducked me again.’
Clemens looked away. ‘It’s a long sad story. A bit melodramatic, I’m afraid.’
‘So entertain me.’ She crossed her arms over her chest and settled back on the cot.
‘Well, my problem was that I was smart. Very smart. I knew everything, you see. I was brilliant and therefore thought I could get away with anything. And for a while I did.
‘I was right out of med school, during which time I had managed the extraordinary accomplishment of finishing in the top five percent of my class despite having acquired what I confidently believed to be a tolerable addiction to Midaphine.
Do you know that particular pharmaceutical?’
Ripley shook her head slowly.
