Page 6 of Devin (Warriors of Etlon #5)

Val

T he terror was real. Sure, she'd seen some of the vids about prison life, but Val had never really taken them as truth.

The prison itself was an older facility, hauntingly empty.

There were five wings but only two of them were used, and those were filled sparsely.

One wing was filled with lifers, women who were older than forty and could no longer be added to the lottery per the Mahdfel rules.

They wore bright blue prison uniforms. The women like her were held in the other wing.

Her outfit was a delightfully bright orange. It hurt her eyes to stare at it.

For the most part, the two groups were allowed to mingle together in the common room and the cafeteria.

There had been no time to say goodbye to anyone, not that Val had many people she'd want to wish well.

From the small courtroom, to the smaller police car, Val had been efficiently whisked away to a large stone prison that had survived the invasion days.

When the Suhlik had first attacked, guards refused to come to work, and some had decided that felons with guns were a great way to fight off an alien invasion.

They'd emptied the prisons to form militias and many of the buildings became barracks and battlegrounds.

This one was in the middle of nowhere, which is probably why it didn't get hit and wasn't considered a strategic spot for either the aliens or the humans.

She was escorted through the gates, which were minimally guarded.

The fence looked new, however, it was probably hooked up with the latest tech that would make it nearly impassable without proper authorization.

The processing room was a small box-like structure just inside the gates.

With a signature on their tablet, Val was handed over to two female guards.

One of them looked positively bored, the other looked like she'd crack with age if you blew on her.

Val had to fight off panic when they strip searched her, and even more when they embedded her ID chip just above her wrist.

"You want something, you scan," said the processing matron holding the chip gun. "If you got funds on the outside, they usually take two to three weeks to process, so don't lolligag."

"Don't worry, Chicky. You won't last long," the old, crusty prison guard said as she handed over a stack of clothes and blankets. That's what Val was afraid of.

"Follow me."

In quick succession, the guard entered the main section of the prison and started pointing out the different sights.

"Over there's the computer center. Restricted access.

You want time, you swipe. That direction is the laundry.

You get one free load a week. Any more, you swipe.

Cafeteria's that way. You want food, you swipe. And over there, that's roof access."

There were twelve large white chalk marks on the door to roof access.

"Do I swipe to go up there?"

"Nah, just a reminder that there are only two exits from this place. One's through the transport circle into the deep reaches of space. That's the other. Nobody's gonna stop you if you take that one."

Val had no intention of killing herself. Prison was not going to be the end of her.

The guard entered the cell block and stopped at one and pointed.

It was in a lower row along a long hallway of cell doors.

Neither bunk was made, which suggested that she didn't have a roommate.

For that, she was thankful. The ceiling was low and the walls were solid concrete, but the sonic toilet shower and sink setup were the latest tech.

"Doors generally stay open. If we go into lock down, you better be back in your cell.

You'll know, unless you're deaf. It's the safest place to be in case of a second invasion.

You want a nutri-nugget? Scan over there.

Food in the ‘caf’ isn't much better, but there are garden privileges for those willing to work for them.

" With that, the guard was done with orientation.

She turned and left without another word.

Val settled in her bunk, thinking that someone, anyone, would come to give her more information, but the place was silent.

Once she'd made the bed and placed her second set of day glow orange attire on the small shelf at the end, there was nothing left to do.

She lay back and contemplated going to meet her neighbors, but considering women were placed here for everything from draft dodging to murder, she wasn't quite up to that yet.

They would eat her alive. Val closed her eyes.

"Is she crying yet?" she heard someone ask.

"Can't tell," another woman answered.

"I got me a wager, and she looks like a crier. Surely you can look a little harder. I only need one little tear," the first woman implored.

Val sat up. Two women peered into her cell from the bars.

One of them was wearing the blue outfit of a lifer.

The other in the same orange that she wore was small, slender and looked like she held onto the bars to keep from blowing away when the larger woman with spiky gray hair cackled.

It was calculated, Val realized, to make her cry. She had no plans to do so, not now.

"I'm not a crier. I'm a biter. Anyone got that in the pool?"

"Ooh, Spicy! What are you in for?"

"I bit my boss's balls off when he suggested I needed to give him a blowjob to keep my job."

"Struck a blow against the alien patriarchy! That's the ticket. You got credits?"

Val wasn't sure what the right answer to that question was going to be.

Sure, she'd gotten credits to do the job, but had the Feds taken them away?

She'd heard that the prison experience was based on a market economy, and without cash, how long would she live comfortably before the sharks descended?

"Who wants to know?" Val asked. She stood up from the bunk and approached. She made herself as tall as possible, but despite her gray hair, Ms. Spiky was built on a much larger chassis than she was, and her instincts told her that picking on the willow would be a cruel mistake.

"I'm Spike, on account of the hair. And that's Maryland."

"Is she from Maryland?" Val asked.

"No. I'm from Jersey. You really bite a guy's balls off?" Maryland inquired.

"Don't be silly, Maryland," Spike continued.

"First of all, it was probably just his tip.

I mean, getting a good teeth hold of a ball sac isn't as easy as it sounds.

Much easier just to chomp down once he's in your mouth.

" She nodded as if she was speaking from experience.

"Probably only took off this much." She pinched her fingers together about a centimeter apart.

"But he's gonna tell the doctor he lost a good six inches!

" This time she laughed from her belly. Maryland was definitely clasping onto the bars to stay upright.

"I suppose Stretcher gave you the five cent tour?" Spike asked.

"More or less," Val replied.

"Maybe I give you the full tour. C'mon." She led Val out of the cell block and down the hallway to the cafeteria with Maryland in tow. A group of blue shirts hung out at a table playing cards.

"This here's Spicy."

"Actually, I'm-" Val started to say before being interrupted.

"Spicy here is a cock biter!"

The crowd in blue let off a cheer.

"Most of us Blues in here have turned lesbian as a way to combat the male patriarchy." Val wasn't sure if that was how it worked, but she nodded all the same.

"Why you wastin' your time on a tangerine?" one of the Blues asked Spike.

"Cuz Maryland here's running low on credits," Spike explained.

Maryland slunk to the back and sat down at a table behind them. She was the one that finally turned on the water works. The Blue women had no pity in their eyes.

"You know. You know what will happen," she blubbered before she put her head back down into her arms.

Val wanted to ask, but she didn't want to look weak and susceptible to the tears either. Thankfully, Spike was ready to supply the answer anyway.

"Because of her size. She's afraid her new hubby is going to split her in two with his monster missile."

"Can you imagine me pregnant with a huge alien baby? I'd never survive!" Maryland protested.

"She's contemplating using door number 2," Spike explained.

Val inferred they were talking about the roof exit.

"So she'd rather kill herself than take her chances?"

"Stupid, I know. But it's either that or starve."

"I don't understand. Why would she starve?"

Spike grabbed Val's wrist. She pointed to the ID chip they’d embedded under her skin.

"Because of this. Didn't they tell you? Every time you scan, you get a database check.

You want to live like a queen? Or you want out of here fast?

Scan away. Because until you hit forty, every time you want to eat or watch a vid or go out into the yard for a few hours, you gotta scan.

You better pray for us Blues not to get into any shit, because if there is a lock down, it's just you and your wrist between starving or alienation. "

Instead of once a year, she’d be entered nearly every day.

The thought should have scared her, to get hooked up with an alien warrior, but instead, it calmed her.

If there were only two doors out of this place, and one was throwing yourself off a roof, she had no alternative.

Alien stud it was. Val walked up to the scanner and didn't even flinch at the loud beep when it flashed from a blue to green and spat out a replicated meal.

The color was slightly off, but Val had eaten worse.

She carried her tray to an empty table, and threw a roll in Maryland's direction.

Val sat. "Space balls. I hear they taste like chicken."

"Spicy's got her own balls of steel, it seems," Spike laughed.