27

“You want us to what?” asked Henry.

On the vidscreen the commander’s eyes shifted slightly to one side, the only sign Henry could see that he was at least a little uncomfortable with the request as well. “Mr. Jenkins, I know it’s an unusual request,” he said. “But it’s very important. In fact, a great deal more important than the safety of the prisoners, or even, frankly, I regret to say, of you and the other personnel.”

“And you can’t tell me anything more about it?”

“I’m sorry, it’s classified,” said the commander.

Henry tried again. “This is probably not the best time,” he said. “The prisoners are acting strangely. Everyone is on edge and some of them even seem to be teetering on the brink of something. Whatever is happening is affecting some of our people as well. Tempers are short. I keep on getting the feeling that something’s about to erupt.”

“Whether it’s the best time or not doesn’t matter,” said the commander. “You will do this, Wandrei.” And Henry realized that there was no debating the point; the commander was serious enough that he’d neglected to humiliate him by calling him by the wrong name.

He nodded. “How long will they be here?”

“I don’t know,” said the commander. “Perhaps a day. Perhaps a month. As long as it takes.”

“How many of them will there be?”

“They can bring as many of their people as they feel they need. There’ll be at least one—Briden: he’s the leader.”

“And these are scientists? They’re the ones working not far from us?”

“That’s right,” said the commander. “I don’t suppose it will hurt to admit to that, if it makes you feel any better. You’re to give them any and every assistance, no matter how you feel about whatever they request. If they ask you to tear down a wall, you tear down a wall. If they ask you to cut off a prisoner’s hand, you cut off the hand. You’re to follow all their orders as if they were my own.”

“Can I ask what they’re likely to request?” asked Henry.

“You can ask, Jenkins,” said the commander, “but I can’t tell you.”

“Classified?”

The commander shook his head. “I simply don’t know,” he said. “Nor do I know how this request ties in to their project exactly. But I do know that they must be given every leeway.”

“What if they want to kill a prisoner?”

“Then let them kill the prisoner,” said the commander without hesitation. “The men you have there lost their rights a long time ago. They’re no longer really people as far as the state’s concerned.”

“What if they want to release a prisoner?”

The commander hesitated more at this. “You release him into their custody,” he finally said. “But you get in touch with me immediately as well. You understand?”

When Henry nodded, the commander broke the link. Henry sighed. The job that was supposed to be temporary, a way of earning a little money so he could start some sort of business of his own back on Vindauga, was becoming more and more complicated. And there was something wrong with the atmosphere here: his head hurt almost all the time, seriously throbbed. In addition to the brief piercing headaches, he was having something like aura migraines now as well. Strobing, throbbing headaches that moved like a psychedelic veil across his vision, obscuring sight in first one eye and then the other. Maybe it was just the stresses of the job that caused it, or he wasn’t eating properly, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was tied to this place, that he’d be okay if only he could just leave.

Nor could he shake, now that he was thinking about it, the feeling that the commander was out to get him. Was this all a trap? Or was he being paranoid, just feeling trapped because he was living in the outer circle of a penal colony? Even though he wasn’t a prisoner, he felt like one. And perhaps if he handled this situation wrong, even without meaning to, it would be a simple matter for the commander to order him to be moved from the technician’s desk where he now sat and put into a cell on the other side of the wall. There were so many empty cells. Any of them could be waiting for him.

He shook his head. What was wrong with him? Why was he so worried? He tried to laugh, but it sounded wrong, more like someone choking.

*   *   *

He called the six guards and the other technician in, explained to them what was to happen. He watched the anger and suspicion and paranoia manifest itself on their faces, only slowly subsiding. Henry regarded them each attentively with part of his mind, wondering Which of these men is going to crack first? If he knew for certain, he could have the man put in a jail cell, just for their own protection. But how could he know for certain? He’d have to put all of them in jail cells just to be safe, and even he knew that if he started putting men in cells, then the remaining men would quickly put him in a cell. Before they knew it, everyone would be in a cell, and then they would all slowly starve to death.

He shook his head. What was he thinking? This wasn’t how he usually thought about things. No, he had to keep his head clear, especially now, especially in this time of stress, when he might need all his resources. He had to remember to be himself.