CHAPTER 6
TRAVEL, AND OTHER SPEEDY CONCOCTIONS
BANG
Nox awoke with a sudden jerk, to see three sligs standing over him in his cell.
“Whoa!” He yelled, then clutching the top of his head with both hands; dull pain.
Stupid. Don’t yeh remember ya’ got hit over the head?!
“Nox” A deep slig voice said, “No need to panic, we’re here to escort you to the train section of this courthouse.”
Nox peered up at the sligs. He hadn’t seen any of them before, so they couldn’t be the same guards as last time.
“Ok…right” Nox replied sleepily, then swinging his robotic legs off of the board he was lying on, and stood before the sligs, “Lets get on with it then.” He spoke, whilst rubbing his head.
Nox was taken out of his cell, and into the corridor outside of it. The door emitted another sharp bang as it slammed shut.
BANG
Frog marched down the corridor, only in the opposite direction than before, and taken to a tall flight of stairs, this time; no green marble, instead; bare, white concrete. They came to a halt.
“Is it just me, or do these stairs get bigger every time we escort someone up ‘em?” A slig voice whined from behind Nox.
“Yeah, its just you.” A second slig chuckled to Nox’s left.
“Come on you two! We’re gonna’ miss the train at this rate!” The deep-voiced slig spoke to Nox’s right.
A couple of sighs, then a trek up the staircase. Nox had to admit to himself, it was pretty tiring climbing them stairs.
Phew…fuck me! Them…them stairs are much too big…
Get over it! jeez…
They reached the top, with considerably less energy than when they began.
“Fuck…sake…” One of the sligs panted.
Nox looked on, to see a small, deserted train platform: wooden, warped benches and old peeling posters on the walls. A large, iron clock was fixed into the metal framework of the shelter up above, it read 7:02 pm, to Nox’s surprise; he’d been asleep nearly all day!
Bad dreams, bad dreams…
The train line stood close to the platform itself, and the air was unusually fresh and good, and Nox felt, all of a sudden, relaxed. The view from the concrete platform was bleak: it surveyed the dark-blue, tiled rooftops of the courthouse, and the sky was grey and cold.
“Can I give you lads a message for someone in Slig Barracks?” Nox questioned hopefully.
What? Stollin and Wrask?
The deep-voiced slig had seen this before, proving so by leaning on one hip in an annoyed fashion, baton clinking against his robotic legs whilst dangling from the sligs belt.
“Look ‘ere sonny, we’ve got no time for games. You ‘aint gettin’ no message. Look,” He pointed up the train line to a fast approaching train, “The train’s already here.”
“Shit.” Nox sighed, slumping slightly.
Suddenly, one of the sligs gave Nox a hard pat on the back from behind, taking him by surprise.
“Don’t worry pal. You might be able to get one at Sronti’s.” One of the sligs comforted, uncharacteristically.
“Yeah! Yeah, they’ll let you at Sronti’s!” The other slig chirruped in.
Nox highly doubted.
The train was noisily smoking to a stop by now, and Nox could see the black, heavy iron plating covering the hull. Stained with some patches of light rust, and greased up with thick, industrial oil, the train looked quite opposing, and certainly should have been in this instance; this would be the train that took him to Sronti’s Prison…quite possibly the last journey he ever made, if things didn’t go well there.
The shutter-doors on all six carriages rolled open with a loud rattle, and the captain of the train stepped out of the cabin, wearing a black & white pinstriped flat cap, and thick, elum-skin gloves.
“Phew!” He whooped, wiping his gloved hands on himself, leaving dirty smears. “I tell yeh boys, that cabin sure does get hot when you’ve been driving for three hours straight! Phew!”
“I’m sure, Bill.” Replied the deep-voiced slig, “And now you’ve gotta’ go all the way back with this one.” He indicated at Nox.
The train driver, Bill, peered at Nox, seeming to be almost blind.
“Oh yeah, I see ‘im.” He said, not giving up his bent over form in Nox’s direction, staring.
“Anyway Bill, we’ve got some business to discuss. Shall we?” The deep-voiced slig stretched his arm out in front of him, inviting Bill to a private chat.
The last words Nox heard from the two before they hushed was “Now, you know that package I asked you to get? Well…”
“Oh,” One of the other sligs said with a humph, “He’s doin’ his ‘dirty dealings’ again.”
“What about that message?” Nox asked slyly.
“No.” Was his flat reply.
Don’t take this shit Nox! ‘Ave ‘em! Heh heh, ‘ave ‘em all!…
A few moments later, the two sligs finished their conversation and proceeded to usher Nox into the first, grubby carriage behind the trains cabin, then slamming shut the shutter-doors. A dull light bulb flickered on above Nox.
That’s it now Nox’y! Good ol’ prison!
The carriage had no windows and smelled strongly of oil, but was surprisingly un-greasy. A door to the neighboring carriage was to Nox’s left, and a small stack of three wooden pallets lay in the corner to Nox’s right, with a cloth sack sitting next to them. The train’s horn blew, and the carriage itself rocked forward, soon settling into a steady swing as the train gathered speed.
With nothing else to do to pass the time, Nox carefully made his way over to the stack of pallets, looking closely at a red spray mark on the side of each one: SLOG PELLETS – SLOG HUT No: X-20 069. The sack also had a spray mark on it, this time black: FEECO DEPOT – CRANKSHAFT PARTS. Nox picked the cloth sack up and gave it a shake. There was a jingle, proving that some parts were still in the bag.
Growing bored of the ‘crankshaft parts’ sack, Nox tried the door, to no avail. Locked.
“Well this is gonna’ be boring.” Nox grumbled to himself.
Your tellin’ me! Nothin’ but you for three hours! Kill me now!!
Ditto.
The hours passed frustratingly slowly, and Nox eventually arrived at his destined destination; Sronti’s prison. A large detention center notorious for its prisoner riots and zero tolerance attitude carried by the guards, but most of all, notorious for the fact that it was a mixed prison, and few of its kind, letting sligs and mudokons in together to serve sentences, and sometimes even share cells. Of course, not all sligs that ‘misbehaved’ were lucky enough to get sent to a prison, some were sent to the dreaded Skillya. The end was nigh for those poor souls who were…
Nox felt the train come to a squeaky stop, and the shutter-doors rattled open once more. Light blinded Nox briefly, and he had to squint to see for a few seconds, before his eyes justified themselves. Getting up from the corner he was slumped in, he ventured outside, onto the station.
“End o’ the line!” Yelled the train captain, already out of his cabin and standing crookedly on the concrete floor of the station, even grubbier than before. “C’mon! I haven’t got all fucking day!!” He yelled again, clearly flustered.
“Hey! I’m the one goin’ to prison! Not you!” Nox snapped sharply, putting the old train driver back in his low, low place.
At this moment, Nox noticed four sligs making their way up the stairs towards him. Nox could only see their heads at this time, wearing officer caps, but knew they were coming for him. He’d already had enough for one day, and wasn’t thinking of doing anything rash.
The train station was a lot like the other, almost identical in fact. Apart from the peeling, water-stained posters on the walls were now monochrome slogans: PRISONER TODAY, DEAD TOMORROW, THINK!…ALL RIOTS ARE TURNED AGAINST THEIR CREATORS…JUST SERVE YOUR TIME, AND GET OUT LEGALLY! Etc…
“Prisoner!” Barked a slig in Nox’s direction. He turned towards the four sligs.
“Yeah?”
“This way. No funny stuff! I clock off in two hours and I don’t want you givin’ me shit.” The same slig said sternly.
Nox obediently made his way towards them, sneaking a peek up above at the clock for the time. 10:11 pm. As he got closer, he noticed the sligs didn’t just have batons hanging from their belt, but pistols also.
This is a bit heavyweight…but its gonna’ be fun! Heh heh…
Nox, once again, was escorted down concrete stairs, and down a corridor similar to the last one, but instead of a large courtroom being stationed at the other end of the corridor, an even larger, and taller, hall with barred cells lining the green walls, took its place. Metal stairs led up to the second and third levels of cells, and Nox was taken to the second floor, whilst imprisoned sligs and mudokons made whooping sounds and shouted random insults. As he was shoved into an empty cell with a double bunk bed, sink and toilet, one of the guards whispered into his ear.
“Your gonna’ love it here, newbie.”
And then Nox’s amazing journey was over. It ended in a dirty prison, in a cramped, cold cell with a hard bed and stained sink, joined by an undignified shitter. Well…it may of done in anyone else’s case, but in Nox’s, no. it did not end there. Some sligs give in, others fight. And it was obvious what Nox was.
The first night in that cell was pretty hard, and was for anyone that was new to the place. The prisoners goading newbie’s to breakdown or snap didn’t help either, but all newbie’s had to be cut down to size, no matter who they were. Not that it was right, but it sure did happen anyway.
Nox fell into an uneasy sleep, this time not dreaming. It would seem Nox was already living the nightmare in his waking hours anyway. This, could be perceived as a ‘hidden blessing’. Not much of one by anyone’s standards.
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bish bash bosh, job done.
hope you enjoy! (AlexFili).
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