As a matter of fact, Xris was exaggerating about the horrors of Jango. He knew nothing at all about unsolved killings, would be surprised if they had even one. From all Xris had ever heard, Jango wasn't a bad place to spend your five to ten with no time off for good behavior. But these b.a.s.t.a.r.ds were so d.a.m.n smug, with their brochures and their handicaps, he figured a few sleepless nights would be good for them.

Unfortunately, Xris would prove to be one heck of a prophet.

CHAPTER 21.

Shades of the prison-house began to close Upon the growing boy...

William Wordsworth, "Ode, Intimations of Immortality"

The three days aboard the prison transport pa.s.sed pleasantly enough. After the initial shock, the other came to the conclusion that Xris was lying. They discussed it often in private whispering sessions, whenever Xris was in the head and they a.s.sumed he couldn't hear. Cappuccino maintained that Xris was just attempting to intimidate them with a view to extortion. The other men agreed, although just exactly what Xris might extort and his motive for extorting it were rather vague in their minds.

They read over their brochures, talked about golf, and, after some whispered discussion, continued the bridge games. They didn't like Xris, but they did like playing bridge and were desperate for a fourth. They played for money to be paid on account, and by the end of the trip Xris and his partner were the big winners; when Blondie recovered from his scare, he was a good bridge player and more than made up for Xris, who was merely adequate. Sleepy slept and Hemingway worked on his novel with, he said, a new twist.

On the third day, the transport left hypers.p.a.ce and entered into orbit around Jango. Even Sleepy woke up enough to take a look out the viewscreen, where the others were crowded, peering down at a grayish green ball of a planet that was rapidly growing in size as they descended.

The sight had a sobering effect on the little group. Jango had been a colorful brochure up until then. Now they were about to see the reality and more than one was thinking about what Xris had told them. Even Cappuccino looked unusually thoughtful and grave.

"Is it true that there aren't any cities on Jango?" Blondie asked. "That the only people who live on this planet are the socially maladjusted?"

"You mean convicts?" Xris grunted.

"I don't consider myself a convict," Cappuccino said sharply. He glanced at Xris, seemed about to add something, but politely refrained.

Xris shook his head. It would be funny if it wasn't so d.a.m.n tragic. "Yeah, it's true. Unless you count the guards. No cities mean no people, and that means no supporta" willing or otherwisea"for an escapee. The land surrounding the prison is nothing but swamp and forest. You might manage to live on your own for a day or two, especially if you've had survival training and you can avoid the surveillance satellites that home in on the microchip they'll shove up your b.u.t.t on your arrival. But what's the point? You're just as much a prisoner out of prison as you are in. There's nowhere to go on the planet and no way to get off.

"You see those satellites? Not only do they help keep track of the prisoners, they also detect the approach of any unauthorized plane or ship. Those s.p.a.ceplanes that came to take a look at us earlier were patrol planes. If we'd been anything else except this transport they'd have either escorted us politely out of the area ora"if we caused troublea"shot us down."

As Xris spoke, he was taking a good, long look at the satellites; made a mental note that he'd need the access code to bypa.s.s the early-warning system.

"You certainly know a lot about this facility," Cappuccino remarked caustically.

"I did my homework," Xris returned.

"Gentlemen," came the announcement over the comm, "we will be boarding the shuttle to the surface in half an hour. Have everything packed and ready to go."

They gathered up the few possessions they'd been allowed, and then returned to stare out the viewport. The men talked lightly about how soon they might be on the green, bemoaned the fact that they hadn't been permitted to bring along their own golf clubs, but would have to use the prison'sa"undoubtedly inferior.

The lighthearted talk ceased when the guards entered. The others watched in shocked silence as one of the guards placed restrainers on Xris's hands and ankles.

"We'll get Tampambulos settled, then we'll be back for the rest of you," said the guard. "Everyone have their gear packed?"

The others nodded. No one spoke.

"Move it along, Tampambulos," the guard ordered.

Xris headed for the door, moving slowly and awkwardly with the metal restrainers around his ankles.

One guard followed him, holding a beam rifle. The other guard kept the remote control for the restrainers in full view. With a touch of a b.u.t.ton, Xris would be lying helpless on the floor, unable to walk, unable to use his hands.

Xris winked as he pa.s.sed the little group.

"My G.o.d," said Blondie unhappily.

Cappuccino frowned, worried.

Pudgy looked away.

The shuttle was older than the transport and not nearly as clean. The pa.s.senger compartment was a cylindrical metal tube with benches on either side and no windows. It smelled of vomit, which gave some hint of what the trip down through the atmosphere was going to be like. Xris sat at the rear of the tube. In addition to the restrainers, his legs and arms were bolted to the shuttle's bulkheads. He watched the others being herded on board.

Cappuccino wrinkled his nose. Blondie gagged and dapped his hand over his mouth. They sat down on the benches.

"Put your right hand up," ordered the guard.

"What for?" Cappuccino asked, startled.

The guard jerked his thumb in the direction of a metal clamp attached about shoulder height to the shuttle's bulkhead.

"Is that necessary?" Cappuccino demanded.

"Regulations," said the guard.

Cappuccino looked for a moment as if he were going to The guard brought the beam rifle up with a snap, aimed it at him. Cappuccino glowered defiantly, but he lifted his right hand. The guard thrust Cappuccino's wrist into the clamp and fastened the clamp over it. The rest submitted to the shackling in silence.

"I guess you boys must feel like prisoners about now," Xris called out cheerfully.

Outside of a few bitter glances cast his direction, no one had the heart to respond.

The shuttle was not equipped with any inertial dampening devices over what they used for launch, unlike those aboard the commercial shuttles, and the ride was as b.u.mpy and uncomfortable as the smell had forewarned. Xris was reminded of the trip he'd reluctantly made aboard a military drop ship. The ride in the drop ship had been terrifyinga"rocketing through the atmosphere, the drop ship engulfed in flame. Compared with this ridea"jouncing and bouncing off the metal walls of the shuttle, watching his fellow prisoners turn sickly greena"Xris would have traded places with himself in a nanosecond.

The guards had handed out barf bags before they retreated to the front of the shuttle, ensconcing themselves behind a steelgla.s.s barrier. Soon nearly every prisoner on board had lost his lunch, with the exception of Xris, who would have givena"and could have givena"his left arm for a breath of fresh air.

The landing was bone-jarring, further shaking the already demoralized incarcerees. Blondie struck the back of his head against the bulkhead, a good solid hit that brought tears to his eyes. Xris expected him to complain of whiplash and threaten to call his attorney, but he was apparently too weak to do anything at the moment except groan.

The shuttle door opened. Rain-freshened, cool air filled the cabin and Xris sucked in a welcome breath. Two guards entered, accompanying a man in a business suit. Broad-shouldered, neatly dressed, the man cast a disparaging glance at the disheveled, smelly, and half-dead inmates, then launched into his speech, which he rattled off by rote in a rapid-fire monotone that left the prisoners blinking.

"I am Deputy Warden Montieth. Welcome to the Jango Rehabilitation Facility. You men will be a.s.signed to a blockhouse, where you will live and sleep. You men will be a.s.signed to a cafeteria, where you will eat. You men will be a.s.signed to a work detail, where you will work. Work is needed in the following areas: the plastic-injection molding factory, the garment factory, the hydroponics farm, the offices, the kitchen, and the laundry. You men do not have a choice of jobs. These jobs will be a.s.signed to you. You men will be paid wages, what is known around here as Jango dollars. This currency has value only on Jango and can be used to purchase sundries, toiletries, candy, and snacks from the commissary. The currency is not to be used for gambling. Gambling is prohibited on Jango. Anyone caught gambling or wagering will have time added on to his sentence."

Montieth paused, fixed his gaze on each one of the men in turn. Xris admired the warden's style. He had accosted the prisoners at their lowest point psychologically. Now he was using his eyes to intimidate them. Only two people met and held the warden's gaze: Xris and Cappuccino.

It was to these two that Montieth, his voice hardening, spoke next.

"I can't imagine that any of you would be so foolish, but I am required to issue this warning: If any of you are thinking of trying to escape from Jango, please disabuse yourselves of the notion. The prison is surrounded by swamps and a jungle that is filled with various life-forms, most of whom happen to be carnivores. There is no way off the planet. These shuttles are the only vehicles permitted to land on Jango. We don't rely on supply ships. We are completely self-sufficient here on Jango, producing the food, the clothes, and other items we need on site.

"All shuttles are attached to their transports, like this shuttle that brought you here. The shuttle pilot is not permitted to either land or depart unless he receives an 'all clear' from Prison Control. Prisoners are not permitted to come anywhere near the landing platform. You will be fitted with a monitoring device that will allow us to pinpoint your location at all times. If we notice your blip in a restricted area, you will be brought before me and then you'll see my unpleasant side.

"Further, there will be no fighting, brawling, threatening, intimidating, pandering, stealing, swearing, fornicating. We have a complete list of regulations, which you will be expected to follow, or, again, you will be brought before me."

He smiled, a thin-lipped smile, ice-coated. "But I'm sure I don't need to worry about you gentlemen. Five of you are serving five-year sentences. You'll find that the time pa.s.ses quickly. Before you know it, you'll be on this shuttle on your way back home. Don't make things hard on yourself. Don't screw up. It's not worth it."

He shifted his gaze to Xris and the smile disappeared. "You're going to be with us a bit longer, I understand. We'll be keeping an extra close watch on you. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Any questions?"

Cappuccino raised his left hand. "According to the brochurea""

"What brochure?" Montieth snapped.

"The ... uh ... brochure my attorney showed me, which had information about Jango...." Cappuccino's voice petered out.

"That brochure," said Montieth with a slight sneer and a nasty emphasis. "It's outdated. We've made some changes."

"The golf course?" Blondie spoke faintly.

"Is currently closed," said Montieth. "We've been having a problem with snakes. Any more questions? Fine. The guards will show you to the blockhouse."

The shuttle guards removed the restraining devices from everyone, including Xris, then herded them out of the shuttle. They walked down a ramp onto a broad tarmac just as a rain squall ended. The clouds were beginning to break up. In the distance, a reddish sun gleamed, bathing the landscape with a pink tinge. The air was humid and hot, tropical.

Teams of inmates could be seen mowing, pruning, and weeding the manicured lawn, which was crisscrossed with sidewalks. The lawn and the sidewalks came to an abrupt end when both neared the jungle, which was part.i.tioned off from the prison by an electric fence. According to what Xris had read, the fence was there more to keep the jungle predators out, as opposed to keeping the human predators in.

A quadrangle of tall buildings rose from the center of the rolling hills. Resembling dormitories, they reminded Xris of his university days. In fact, the entire complex might have been an educational facility. The buildings were painted white with black trim, looked clean and well-kept. A large office complex, probably the administration buildings, stood on a higher hill. A series of domed buildings with gla.s.s walls that reflected the red sun with blinding intensity must be the greenhouses. There were no walls, no guard towers. Nothing but jungle and what looked like an air-traffic control tower in the very center.

"This doesn't seem so bad," Pudgy said, brightening.

"It matches the brochure, even if the brochure is outdated. And like he said, five years goes pretty quickly," Blondie agreed.

"All those regulations, it sounds as if they run a real tight operation," Cappuccino said, with a glance at Xris.

"We'll see," was all Xris said.

The guards, dressed in gray, each with an I.D. card attached to his uniform and a beam rifle in his hand, marched them off toward the Quad. As they walked past one of the work groups, the men looked up from digging weeds, regarded the new arrivals with curiosity sprung from boredom, glad for any break in the routine. Their uniforms were soaked. They'd obviously been working in the rain. A wet, bored-looking overseer ordered them to quit gawking and get back to business.

The guards led Xris and his companions to the third blockhouse on the quadrangle.

"Each blockhouse has a central monitoring station," announced the guard, halting his prisoners so they could have a good, long look.

A guard sat in what appeared to be a bunker surrounded by monitors that provided a view of every cell in the blockhouse, shifting from one cell to another every few seconds.

"A security cam located in each cell keeps its eye on you and the guard keeps his eye on the cam," stated the guard. "Any questions? Move along."

They were marched halfway down a corridor on the first floor and here the guards stopped. Using their badges as a pa.s.skey, the guards opened two doors, one on either side of the corridor.

Inside were two sets of bunk beds, two desks, four chairs, two closets, and two chests with four drawers each. Another door opened into a minuscule shower stall. There were no windows, and no door to enclose the sink and toilet.

"These are your quarters. Four to a cell, each cell with a separate wash facility. It's your home for the next few years, so keep it clean. Inspection and head count at 0600 hours. You will stand here, at the foot of the bunk, neatly dressed, with your bed made and the room spotless. Head count at 2200 hours, which is 'lights out,' and again at 0200 hours. If any man is found missing from his bunk during head count, the alarm will sound, lockdown will occur, and that man will be found."

Pudgy, Xris, Cappuccino, and Blondie were a.s.signed to one room. Sleepy and Hemingway were a.s.signed to a room across the corridor. Xris entered, looked around curiously, opening drawers. While he was checking out the shower, he could hear Blondie speaking in a low voice to one of the guards.

"That man is serving twenty years for murder. I'm certain he doesn't belong with us in our room. There must be some mistake."

The guard shrugged, answered in a loud voice. "You four arc a.s.signed to this room and that's all I know. You got a problem with a roommate, take it up with the warden."

Xris returned. Blondie glanced at him, saw that he had heard, and flushed deeply.

The guard indicated a keypad next to the door. "There are two keypads, located inside and outside. These lock and unlock your door. Punch in five numbers in sequence and the door opens. This is during the day only. After 'lights out,' you will be denied access.

"You men decide on the code you want to use. We suggest that you change the code at least once a month. Control Central can lock or unlock the doors at any time. Don't forget your code! If you do and we have to let you in or out, it's five Jango dollars the first time, twenty dollars after that, plus twenty demerits. All of us guards have our own code that can open the doors at any time.

"All rooms are subject to random inspection at any time, day or night. You will note the security cam in each room.

That is there for your protection. If the view of the security cam is obstructed or if the security cam is disabled, an alarm will sound and the guards will investigate."

He handed each of them an electronic scheduler. "Here's your job a.s.signments, work times, mealtimes, table numbers. You will be on time for work and for meals. Five dollars and five demerits fine for every five minutes you're late. Twenty-five demerits and you start losing privileges, starting with free time. You each have two hours of free time per day, from 2000 to 2200 hours. You may use this time to attend cla.s.ses, visit friends, go the gym, rent a vid, or partic.i.p.ate in team sports. Twenty-five demerits, you lose one hour of free time.

"You may go anywhere in the facility with the exception of the shuttle pad, which is off limits; the administration buildings, unless you have a work permit; and the Control Tower.

"Turn in the clothes you are wearing. You will wear prison-issue clothing. It's there on the bed. Lose any article of clothing and it's twenty-five demerits. Here's the doctor to inject the monitors. Drop your drawers and bend over."

Once this humiliating procedure was donea"with Pudgy, Cappuccino, and Blondie now looking very much as if they deeply regretted their life of crimea"the guards left them. They had the rest of today to look around and become acquainted with their new environment. Tomorrow they would start to work.

The four stared at each other in uncomfortable silence, until Blondie felt compelled to offer a lame explanation for trying to ditch Xris, an explanation Xris didn't want to hear.

He turned his back, walked over to one of the unmade bunk beds, and selected the lower one. He didn't figure either of the other three were going to argue with him and he was right. Blondie stammered on for a few minutes, then dried up.

Stacked neatly on the ends of the beds were two piles of clothes and linen. One pile contained bedsheets, pillow-cases, and towels. The other pile was made up of two sets of cotton knit track pants, a pair of denim work overalls, two T-shirts, four pairs of underwear and socks, and two pairs of vacuuform adjustable sneakers. A sweatshirt and a pullover nylon jacket completed the wardrobe.

Xris moved the clothes from the bed to one of the drawers, leaving out the track pants and shirt, which he intended to wear. He was going to undress in a moment and his roommates would discover that not only was he a murderer, he was also half machine. This should just about finish them off, he was thinking, when a voice came from the door.

"So, look at our new little jailbirds. Ain't they cute."

Xris turned to see four men standing in the corridor outside their room. Xris had seen some big men in his tune, but the man who'd made the comment was certainly impressive. He stood taller than Xris, was broader than Xris through the shouldersa"and Xris was no shrimp. The man had no neck to speak of, what neck he'd started out with at birth having been swallowed up by the muscles in his shoulders. Given the dull, mean look in his little squinty eyes, that muscle extended well up into the man's head. Bleached hair flowed in a mane down his back.

The three flanking him were obviously his flunkies. They stood grinning, prepared to enjoy the show. In their arms, they held four pairs of shoes and a couple of sweatshirts. Xris's three roommates stood gazing at the apparition uncertainly, not knowing how to respond. Xris ignored the comment, began to roll his socks into neat b.a.l.l.s.

Muscle Head sauntered into their room, pivoting sideways to fit his ma.s.sive bulk through the door opening.

"Me and the boys here want to welcome you fellows to Jango. My name is Slovenski, but you can call me Master. I run a charitable organization here on Jango and I know that you boys will be happy to donate your shoes and sweatshirts to the needy."

"Needy? What needy?" Blondie made the mistake of asking.

The Master came toe to toe with Blondie, whose nose was level with the huge man's breastbone, barely visible beneath his swelling pecs.

"The poor fellas who ain't got any shoes," said Slovenski, looming over him.