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Not prompts I've used

Monday, July 20, 2015

Prompt: A futuristic society where the prisons are overpopulated and they have to send spaceships of prisoners into space.

Jacob huddled in the cleaning closet and tried to think through what to do next.  He had made it from the sleeper cells to this closet with a little bit of planning, a lot of bribing and a even more luck.  Now, he had to try and find his way off of a space ship travelling at a measurable percentage of light speed and back to the only dependable ecosystem in the solar system: Earth.  Where his son is.  A moment to stop and collect was not uncalled for.

He heard a pair of crew members talking as they glided past, discussing the rap sheets of their current cargo.  The two thousand criminals bottled in the sleeper cells ranged from killers and rapists to tax evaders and cat burglars.  All of them, including Jacob, were designated as 'irredeemable' and launched into space for a long journey to Europa, one of Jupiter's moons.  All of them were filled with a chemical cocktail to reduce their metabolism and keep them out for the trip.  All of them except Jacob.

Once the crew members had moved out of earshot, Jacob lifted the latch on the door and slowly pushed it open.  He had been crushed back against a bunch of mops and other gear, breathing the fumes of the cleaning fluids.  With the door open, more recycled air came in and more light.  He slowly shifted into the corridor.

His goal was the bridge.  He had learned, at great expense, that the prison ships, the Bottled Rockets, did not have escape pods or any other type of emergency gear.  The crew was kept to a minimum and got danger pay.  The cargo was expendable.  Instead, there was a "return switch": a single use button that turned the ship around and sent it back to Earth.  The idea being that most of the things that could happen to a space ship were unrecoverable and everyone was already dead: meteor impact, rampant infectious disease, loss of AI.  Those few that might leave someone alive could only be fixed back at the home planet.  All Jacob needed to do was get to the bridge and press that button.

Before leaving his closet, Jacob unscrewed the handle from one of the mops and took it with him.  He'd killed a man once with his bare hands, but then, his son had been in danger.  Without Eral's immediate need driving him, Jacob wasn't sure he would be able to summon the same strength.  The broom handle should make it easier if it become necessary.  He hoped it would not become necessary.

He pushed off and bounced down to the next intersection hoping that his bungled zero gravity skills would not alert anyone to his presence.  He landed next to the access hatches for the next set of Bottles.  There were ten on each side of the ship's spine with one hundred prisoners in each, lined up toe-to-toe like in those new tenements in Seattle and Miami.  In front of the Bottles were the crew quarters and then the bridge.  The engine was in the back, but would only be used to slow the ship upon reaching their destination.  Jacob had been bottled in bay seventeen, giving him eight intersections before the crew hatch.  He'd made five before hiding in the cleaning closet.  Now, after this one, there were just two more to go.

Jacob hefted the broom handle and gave it a few practice swings as he drifted forward.  He was more than a little self-conscious as he did it.  He had trained with broom handles, but only in their intended purpose.  Not as a weapon.  Cleaning a bathroom stall used many of the same muscles as swinging a staff, but not the same muscle memory.  It just wasn't what he was used to.  That and the fact that, unless he had some surface to anchor himself against, swinging the handle put him in a spin that took him minutes to get out of.

He reached the crew hatch and stopped.  There was a coded panel that kept the door closed.  Jacob had no idea what the code was or how to move past it, so he stopped and waited.  The crew members who had passed a few minutes before were probably the ones assigned to the daily systems check.  At least, that's how Jacob would have set it up.  Maybe it was hourly.  Maybe monthly.  All he could do was wait for someone to open the door.  So Jacob waited.

*  *  *  *  *

When Eral was first born, Jacob was horrified.  In the name of all that is holy, I'm just a janitor, he thought.  How can I be responsible for the life of another?  He found out: one step at a time.  That's how everything happens.  One step at a time.  First step, hold your child.  Second, feed your child.  Third, change your child's diaper.  His then-wife helped.  Some.  But she wasn't much for the crying and neediness of a child.  She claimed that she got enough of that from Jacob.  So, six months after Eral was born, she left.  Bags packed, car waiting, door slammed, left.  Jacob had stood there holding Eral and just watched, too stunned to try and stop her.  There was never any paperwork and Jacob supposed that they were technically still married in somebody's eyes.  Eral never knew her.

He had taken a leave of absence from his job for a month to try and sort out how to work and raise a child.  People kept telling him to hang in there, lots of other people had figured out how to do this.  What none of them had said was that while possible, it was not easy.  Not easy by far.  He ended up paying one of the other families on his floor to watch Eral while he worked, the money coming from what his ex would have otherwise spent on whatever she spent money on.  And he worried.  Worried every minute of every hour that he was away.  Was he eating?  Was he getting bullied by that family's children?  Were they paying attention to Eral's diaper rash?  All the myriad of worries that would have been eased if he were home.  But then he and Eral would not have food to eat.  They would be out of their apartment which, as lousy as it was, was still better than the streets.

This lasted two years.  Then they raised the rent just that much more.  More than they raised his hourly wage; he was told that he was capped out for a janitor.  And the rent was not just raised for him, but all of the apartments in his building.  The family who was watching Eral needed more so that they could stay in their apartment with their children.  If they left, who would end up watching Eral?  And so, and so, Jacob missed a payment.  It was that or food and food won.

And then he missed another.

And a third.

He was not home when they changed the locks and piled all of his belongings in the hallway.  He picked up Eral, and walked to what used to be his home only to find it was not home anymore.  A man was waiting.  Big.  He said that Jacob needed to get his things out of the hall before noon the next day or they would throw it all out.  Jacob put Eral down on one of their tattered chairs and tried to reason, but there was no reason.  His circumstances did not matter.  The big man did not know what Jacob was supposed to do and did not care.  

All of the other residents on the floor had come out to watch.  Jacob stared at them but only got flat expressions back.  Even from Eral's minders.  He looked at his belongings.  He looked at the locked door.  He looked at the big man with his bored expression.  And Jacob lost it.

His fist jabbed out and hit the big man.  Jacob had not been aiming.   He had not hit anyone since the first grade playground.  He had just lashed out, looking for someway to release his frustration.  He certainly had not intended to crush the man's throat.  To cut off his air and cause him to suffocate.  No.  That was an accident.  He did not mean to kill.  Just vent.  But nobody cared.  Not the landlord.  Not his neighbors.  Not the police or the judge or the wardens.  He was now a killer and deemed a drain on society.  Not even worth a room in an air breathing prison.  Those were reserved for the dealers and drunks.  People who might still be useful.  Not a killer.

And they had taken Eral.  A foster home, they said.  He'll be fine, they said.  But Jacob knew better.

*  *  *  *  *

Jacob heard movement on the other side of the coded door to the crew area.  He got to his feet and crouched to one side of the door frame.  He heard a few beeps and then the door slid open and one of the crew came through.  Jacob did not wait, but hit the guard as hard as he could with the mop handle.  It connected with the guard's nose and then broke both the nose and the handle.  The guard flopped on to his back across the door jam and started moaning.  Jacob stooped over him and started pulling everything he could out of the man's pockets.  There was not much, but just enough: a list of code numbers and a stun wand.

Jacob stepped through the door, over the guard.  He checked to make sure that no one else was around and discovered that the door he was in was only one of two.  He was in an airlock but there to protect the crew in case there was pressure loss on the Bottle side.  He pushed the stunned guard back into the corridor that connected the Bottles and let the door on that side close.  Turning to the crew side, he was confronted with another keypad.  Looking at his new list, Jacob got it open and moved through into the crew quarters.

He slid down another corridor, this one a bit larger but much shorter.  It was someplace people were supposed to live, not be stored.  There were four hatches long its length and a fifth at the end.  Fortunately, it was also empty.  They must either be asleep or in the bridge.  Pushing himself along with his hands and feet as he bumped into the walls, Jacob read the signs on the doors.  One was a gym and lavatory.  One was for the four guards.  One for the Navigator and the Executive Offices.  One for the Captain.  That last reminded Jacob that he had not had a room to himself since the apartment.   While he was in prison, he had always had a roommate or three.

*  *  *  *  *

Finding ways to be by himself had been the hardest part of prison life for Jacob.  There was always talking or coughing or screaming or other reminders that he was not alone.  That he had to be aware of how his cellmates or yard mates or mess mates might react to everything he did or said.  He could never let his guard down.

As a result, Jacob found places that the other prisoners shunned.  He would sit in the yard next to the sewer pipe because no one else liked the smell.  He took a top bunk in his cell because then he could look at the ceiling and not the distended mattress of another person.  He could think of Eral.

It was this loner approach that got Jacob noticed and presented with an opportunity.  Several of the inmates were planning an escape and needed a lookout.  A body that the guards were used to seeing all by himself.  Jacob was perfect.  He would be well compensated.  He asked if he would be able to leave with them, but they told him that he would not be in the right place to escape and to keep an eye on the guards.  Jacob kept asking, telling them about Eral and how much he needed his father.  Finally, the leader got tired of being asked and told Jacob to either take the money or get shanked.  Jacob took the money.

It was ironic that when he could no longer use it, Jacob found himself in possession of more money than he had every had at one time in his life.  After the break out happened and all of the escapees were shot despite Jacob's best effort to warn them, he found himself sleeping on a mattress full of cash.  It occurred to him that he might be able to use it to find a way out.

Having listened to his fellow inmates, he knew that he was not long for this world.  A Bottle Rocket was ready and one of the Bottles had his name on it.  He would be leaving in a month.  When he asked, they told him that there was no way out after he was sealed in.  Desperate, Jacob started asking the guards about the Rockets and what to expect.  Finally, one of the told Jacob that if he was that interested, the guard would sell him plans.  Could even get the bottling cocktail switched to a short term sleeping drug.  For the right price.

Jacob paid.  What else was he going to do with the cash?

*  *  *  *  *

At the final air lock, Jacob consulted his code list and opened the first door.  Inside, he hefted the stun wand and flicked the power switch.  It was shorter than the mop handle, but would put a man down at a touch.  In prison, he had been on the wrong end often enough to know.  Getting as firm a grip on the wand as he could, Jacob put his feet against the closed door to the crew quarters and prepared to push as hard and fast as he could into the bridge.  If the six remaining crew were all in the bridge, he would need all the help he could get.  Drawing a deep breath, Jacob keyed in the final code.

The door opened and Jacob pushed off as hard as he could, arms forward and leading with the stun wand.  He immediately collided with a body, stunned by the wand.  He pushed off and ended up with his back against the wall next to the door.  Aside from the one drifting body, there were two other people in the space.  One looked like a guard and the other like an officer.  Maybe the Captain?  Jacob did not know enough to tell.

"Where is it?" he yelled, brandishing the wand.

"Where is what?" asked the officer.  The guard had his wand out and was trying to drift slowly toward Jacob without spooking him.

"The button!  The red button that turns this ship around!"

"Huhn?"  The officer looked confused.

"I had plans for these ships.  They clearly said that there was a button you could press to turn this rocket around.  I need to get back.  My son needs me!"

"Um," the officer shared a look with the guard.  "There's lots of red buttons up here.  But there isn't one that I know that does what you're saying."

"Then where's the Captain?  He'll know."

"I am the Captain.  Or as much of one as this thing needs.  Who are you?"  The guard was on the other side of the drifting body and closing in.

"Jacob.  I was a prisoner.  Now I want to go back.  I need to get to my son!"

"Well, I'm not sure how you're going to do that.  This thing doesn't go back.  Once we get to Europa, This hull becomes part of the prison.  Ralph over there, the rest of the crew and I, well, we become part of the staff on site.  Every shipment needs more personnel to take care of it.  We're not going back for a while.  If ever."  As the Captain finished, Ralph pushed the body at Jacob, using it as a shield against Jacob's wand.  Jacob pushed up, came over the top of the body and bashed his head against the ceiling.  The guard shot up after him, stun wand poised.  Jacob twisted and managed to get his foot in the other man's face, pushing hard with his shoulders braced against the top of the bridge.  The guard shot back down and tangled up with the Captain.  Jacob pushed with his back and then legs, coming down on top of the two men.  He lunged with the wand, stirring it up in their bodies with the same motion he had used to clean toilets.

With all three of the bridge personnel incapacitated, Jacob had no one who could point him to the button.  He looked around.  The bridge was covered with buttons and displays all showing the status of the ship.  There was one screen that kept showing an animation of one of the Bottles, zooming in on the aft of the ship, then the right and into one of the bottles.  Inside the bottle, it showed a flashing red dot among a field of green ones.  Other showed their projected path to Europa.  There were four chairs and a few levers, but he did not see the button immediately.

Jacob reasoned that it would need to be both obvious so that people could find it in an emergency and protected so that it wasn't hit accidentally.  It was not in the middle of any of the four consoles.  It was not on the ceiling or walls.  The closest that he could find was a button on the side of one of the front chairs.  It was big.  It was covered with a clear plastic cover.  It was sort of red, but also had yellow stripes on and around it.  It was labelled "Riot."

Jacob looked at the button.  He shook the Captain, but the Captain was out.  There was no one to ask.  Jacob had to decide: was this the button he needed to press or not.  A riot might be considered a recoverable emergency.  He looked around again.  There were some small red buttons around the screen showing their path.  He pressed them just to be sure.  Nothing happened.  The path did not change.

Finally, taking a deep breath, Jacob lifted the cover and pressed the button.

The Bottle Rocket exploded.

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