Page 21 of Escape from Nova Nine
Waorani surged to his feet with a roar. Enforcers and interrogators stumbled back as if pushed by an explosion.
Kanogan’s two protectors dragged him sideways, toward the doors.
An interrogator regained her footing. “Shut him down!” A heartbeat later, she was thrown backward and slammed into one of the red-armored hulks, knocking them both off their feet.
Waorani roared. The other interrogators went flying again.
Kanogan’s voice boomed. “Red Team, disable Waorani 3006.”
The still-standing guardian stepped forward. An invisible wind slid her backward. In answer, she deployed ground spikes, making holes in the metal floor with each step toward her target. The second prime guard crawled in the same direction. The chair that slid into him didn’t slow his advance.
Waorani fell to one knee. “I… will… not… submit!”
Suddenly he arched and jerked, then slumped and toppled.
Zade couldn’t see why until one of the enforcers climbed to her feet, holding a slender shockstick. He recognized it as the same style Kanogan had hit him with the first day.
“Red Team, stand down. Return to position one.” Kanogan stepped forward, shrugging off the hand of one of his protectors. His head turned toward the enforcer with the shockstick. “Well done. Perhaps the rest of my staff can learn to be as quick-thinking.”
He turned to the interrogators, who were helping each other up off the floor. “Regrettably, Mr. Waorani turns out to be too volatile to join my personal staff. Telekinetics are intractable liars. Clean him out and take him to processing. Red Team can always use fresh meat.”
The interrogation team enlisted one of the enforcers to help put Waorani’s inert form in a wheeled cart and rolled it out the door. The Red Team guards resumed their positions, as did the protectors and remaining enforcers.
Kanogan turned to face the prisoner population. “I’d planned that as a celebration, but...” He trailed off, then shrugged and waved a gloved hand. “On to the announcements. I appreciate the extra hours you’ve all put in these last three days. Thanks to you, we’ve already exceeded this quarter’s production goals. That’s a big win for our little operation.” He paused as if expecting a round of applause.
From what Zade could see, the other prisoners looked as stunned as he felt. Despite his tight containment, he sensed consternation and disgust from the people around him. Phantom spots danced in his peripheral vision as his headache veered into migraine territory. He couldn’t tell if Kanogan actually believed his own words, or was playing a twisted game of pretending the prisoners were willing employees.
“Anyway,” continued Kanogan, “the good news is, we’re expecting an influx of people and equipment in seven or eight days. We’ll have to keep the longer shifts until then, but we’ve reactivated some older extraction equipment so you can return to the previous work detail assignments. We need to keep the momentum going. More output is the key to expanding our customer base.”
Zade darted quick glances at the warden’s staff for reactions to the bizarre motivational speech, but they were nearly as statue-faced as the guardians.
“I saved the best for last.” Kanogan’s over-the-top energetic enthusiasm would have instilled begrudging envy in a used-starship dealer. “As a reward for your efforts, starting tonight, I’ve authorized one extra hour of sleep!”
He opened his arms wide to accept applause. None came. The room descended into a long, awkward silence.
An audible huff came over the speakers. “Very well, then.” His arms dropped and his head lifted. “Enjoy your dinner.” The suddenly snappish tone said he hoped they choked.
Kanogan turned with a flurry of red and headed straight for the doors.
It took a second for the enforcers to realize their boss was actually leaving. A couple had to trot to catch up to the retinue as they exited.
Zade waited until he saw Julke relax before allowing himself to slump and release the screaming tension in his back. It even hurt to lift his arms to trigger the heater in his mealpack and unpack the recyclable utensils. The pent-up emotions in the hall buffeted his talent. Letting his head drop to his chest, he visualized hand-weaving a basket to reassemble his tattered containment.
He owed Julke an apology for disbelieving her about how the Red Team guards were recruited. It was worse even than court-ordered punishment for the CGC’s most heinous criminals. “Cleaner” was a slang term for a particular type of telepath who could erase memories as if they never existed. Everything that was uniquely Waorani would be gone.
The mealpack’s steam-release signaled the contents were ready to eat. He pried off the top and began methodically shoveling mystery lumps of moist green protein from the tray to his mouth. The best he could say about the taste was that he’d had worse.
The bone-thin prisoner across the table, whose name tag Zade couldn’t read shook his head. “How can you eat this shit, Lunaso?”
Zade shrugged one shoulder. “Not in favor of starving.”
Prughal, the gold-haired prisoner next to him, grunted. “Better get used to it. Guards were bitching about having to clean out frost damage in the hydroponics farm. Blowout made a big hole in the ceiling.”
“It didn’t freeze?” Zade looked at Prughal in surprise.
“Dunno.” Prughal ate another spoonful of something yellow and grainy. “Maybe it wasn’t hard vacuum. In any case, it’ll take ’em days just to re-start the plankton colonies.”
Zade recalled that Prughal was a plant affinity minder with closed enviro systems expertise. Not that the mine would trust a prisoner anywhere near critical infrastructure, but what a waste to have such a clever person drilling holes in rocks.
