Numbers - Chapter 2
Numbers is a high-tech heist set on a brutal prison planet. It’s a story of revenge, ex-husbands, and a savant named Numbers who might be the only "key" that actually works.
In the previous chapter: Khic hatches an idea of revenge against her ex-husband. A low tech heist and getaway from the prison planet she is locked away in.
Chapter 2
A bell went off signaling the end of the work day. Khic put down her device and packed away her tools. With weary steps she made her way to the exit line and waited in the que of bodies ahead of her. One by one they walked through the scanner. Prison policy. Everyone was scanned when they left. A way to ensure you didn’t try to take out a device, a tool, or anything of value. It was made quite clear, from day one of lock-up, that all of this belonged to Penal Colony Industries Inc. It was never explained exactly what would happen if an inmate attempted to steal something, but the lack of details was more effective than a fine printed document to deter her from testing the waters.
A detector beeped, drawing the attention of two serious looking security guards. A rail thin inmate was grabbed by one guard, while the other passed a hand detector over him. Another ominous beep, pockets checked, and a small piece of equipment was pulled out. The sickly looking worker panicked, yelling that had forgotten to put that piece back. He wailed that it was an accident, a mistake, it would never happen again. The guard silenced him with a whack from a baton. Khic watched through her pragmatic eyes as they dragged him away – he is probably dead. Good thing I left that data chip hidden at my workstation.
The workday was done, but the inmates day was not. There were housekeeping chores to take care of. No maids provided with these accommodations.
Khic’s cell mates threw sheets and other dirty fabrics at her, giving her the job of carting it over to the laundry. She’s happy to do it; she’s happy to get out of the cellblock. Balancing the mountain of laundry was not easy, especially when passing disgruntled inmates who took the opportunity to bump her, just for laughs, causing pieces to topple and land in dust piles and wet puddles of unknown filth.
The soiled cargo was lugged through the laundry room doors and hauled towards an open industrial sized washing machine. Khic attempted to load it, but ended up in a tangled mess with most of the sheets and clothes landing on the floor, which did not help their cleanliness. Two big arms reached down and picked up the mess in one swoop, and in that same fluid motion tossed it into the machine, smooth as a swish shot in a pro basketball game.
Khic let out a sigh. “Thanks big guy.”
“No problem. Anything for you Khic.” Deftly the big hands of Armstrong pulled a crank, poured detergent, and had the machine purring away in seconds.
Khic stood back and appreciated the help. “It’s great to know someone in the laundry business.”
“Just someone eh? We family Khic.”
“I know, you big lug. 3rd, 4th cousins twice removed is technically family.”
“And getting framed and convicted together makes us closer, at least in my books,” he said. “Not that I’ve read that many books.”
“I’m sure you’ve read the posters going up around this outhouse of a jail?”
Armstrong answered, “you mean the ones with the face of the man who framed me, framed you, and sent us to this place? Nice of him to visit.”
Khic thought for a second about sharing the datachip Len had given her. It would probably bring a bit of joy to Armstrong, but ultimately depress him knowing there was little chance of using it. Well, maybe you take all the small bits of joy you can in this place.
“Our cousin Len gave me a little present today. A little key to our poster boy’s lockbox.”
Armstrong smiled, the reaction Khic was hoping for. “I would love to use that. Break in and steal whatever he has. Steal something irreplaceable, like the prime years of his life. And make him do the dirty laundry in this place.” The smile disappeared.
“We will get him someday.”
Armstrong pulled a load of white sheets from a dryer and dumped them on a table. “Help me fold these and you can take them back to your cell block.”
“I promise you Armstrong, we’ll get him back.”
Armstrong looked doubtful as he folded fitted sheets like a pro.
Khic was walking back to her cell block with the mountain of fabric when someone ran into her sending sheets and shirts flying. “What the…”
It was the familiar face of the maintenance man, Cousin Len. He yelled at her, “watch where you are going inmate.” Another inmate who was also walking down the hall scurried away, staying well clear of the shouting maintenance man. Len moved his maintenance cart to the side of the now empty hall and bent over to help pick up the sheets. With his face beside Khic’s he whispered, “I might have a chance to get you out of here.”
“How?”
“The big visit by your Ex. They want me to take a couple of inmates for maintenance duty. I’ll have access to a getaway ship.”
Khic’s mind lit up. “Take me, Armstrong, and Numbers.”
“Numbers?”
“Trust me.” She took the last sheet and continued walking down the hall.
Just for show Len shouted, “pay attention next time or I’ll be reporting you.”
She raced back to her cell block almost toppling her pile of bedsheets on the way. She needed some time to think, some time to plan. The vague visions of the data chip, breaking into the lockbox, and escaping with a chest full of loot were starting to become clear.
“Len has the connections, Armstrong has the muscles, Numbers has the key, and I will be free.”
Thanks for reading.