Page 18 of The Program

Xander called them mirages. Apparently, training to endure this was a part of the training program for specialising cadets, but I’d never gotten the chance to reach that level before I’d found myself locked up in solitary confinement. Luckily, I was still allowed the occasional visitor, but it was mostly Xander and sometimes Addy. Markus came to visit a couple of times, too, just to check in on me and sneak me some treats. His visits were always the weirdest, though. I didn’t really know him, so it didn’t make much sense why he would make the effort.

He always seemed happy to see me, though, which I soaked up whenever I had the chance.

Today was a little different, though I wasn’t entirely sure if it was just my imagination and wishful thinking. I was woken from a restless sleep by the shuffle of feet outside my cell’s door. I didn’t have a guard since the room kept me locked up tight and it was too early for the delivery of my morning meal. I found that out when they actually delivered it.

And then there was the sound of muffled voices that drifted through the walls that accompanied the footsteps later on. All throughout the day I had sat there, waiting and listening while my anxiety built about the cause of theextra foot traffic. When nothing came of it, I was leaning more towards it all being in my head.

And then the door opened again, only this time there was no food.

Two of the gas mask-clad guards stepped through – both from Drakfern descent – and pointed their guns right at me. I hadn’t had too many interactions with them, but they always behaved as if I were going to attack them at a moment’s notice. I wasn’t sure where they got that idea from since my accusatory charges were based around a different kind of assault andI was innocent.

‘Prisoner, you are coming with us,’ one said, his voice distorted behind the mask.

I rose from my seated position, eager to get out of the tiny room and stretch my legs despite not knowing where they were taking me. I didn’t really care. It had come to the point where I no longer cared about much of anything these days. Hope had fled my system months ago, and I had accepted my fate.

I wasn’t getting out of these false charges, and I was going to face the punishment someone else was owed.

I kept my face forward but my eyes towards the floor as they sandwiched me between them and led me through the metallic corridors. I was so sick of metal, there wasn’t any reason to try to catch a glimpse of a different section of it. I missed my home world more than anything. The bright sun, the plentiful flora, the abundance of fauna, the beautiful array of colours. Theseasons.

Everything on Nova Station was drab and grey, clean and shiny. Even the dust blended in. And the circulated air was stale and stifling. What I wouldn’t give to be home, to feel the breeze on my skin while I inhaled a deep breath of fresh, clean air.

The guards led me through corridor after corridor, even going so far as to take the elevator up two levels. It wasn’t until we reached the higher storey that we finally merged with a crowd of people. Up until then, we had only come across the occasional guard or Program scientist.

I didn’t want to think about what they were doing, the memory of their victims’ screams echoing in my head – the cause of countless sleepless nights – a macabre internal soundtrack as I trudged towards my doom.

I wasn’t an idiot. I had been locked up for far too long for this to be anything other than my sentencing. They must have finally drudged up enough fake evidence to pin me with the assaults, and I was morbidly curious to see it for myself.

‘Mister Hastings,’ a familiar voice called out to me that shocked me out of my mind enough that my head snapped up. My eyes needed no additional guidance to locate them, and the guards paused in their path towards a set of ornate gilded doors.

‘CWO Brin,’ I greeted, giving the tiny pink Griknot lady a nod of respect. My voice was gravelly and painful to use after so long sat in silence, and I didn’t miss the way her eyes twitched as if she were holding back a wince. Me too, Adara. Me, too.

She eyed up the two brutes caging me in with poorly disguised disdain before bringing her attention back to me, though she kept one eye on our surroundings. Her physical appearance distracted the guards from her intelligence, which was made evident by the way their eyes tracked her feminine form and their eyelids lowered into matching, smarmy leers. I wanted to smack the expression right off their faces. Lucky for everyone, she ignored them.

‘The captain was only just informed of the need for his attendance at this meeting but he was already busy with other tasks, so he is running late. He has asked me to step in for him in the meantime, so I will be representing you until he arrives,’ she told me, her tone measured and void of any emotion. It was smart of her to keep our friendship to herself, especially in front of our rapt audience.

If we were even still friends. I hadn’t seen her in months.

I didn’t have the time to ponder that any further as the doors swung open, hinges creaking from their weight. They were purely ceremonial as Nova Station was entirely technological. Doors were a planet-bound custom or for those who couldn’t afford the fancier, technologically advanced versions.

I expected the inside of the room to be cavernous, but those doors were clearly misleading. Instead, I found myself in a shallow chamber with chairs spaced evenly around the circumference. Each one was occupied by black-cloaked figures. Their hoods covered their faces, drowning them in shadow to maintain anonymity which I found to be a bit melodramatic, but alas, Iwas on the wrong side of these procedures and nobody would care about my opinions.

I was led to a slightly raised dais in the centre of the small, circular room, and then was promptly abandoned by my escorts. Brin was the only one remaining, but the officials didn’t seem to like her presence.

‘And who are you?’ one of them asked her.

I’d give her props for the way she stood steadfast and strong, like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Her voice didn’t even waver when she spoke. ‘I am Chief Warrant Officer Adara Brin. I was informed by Captain Hironimus that his summons was not given in a prompt fashion and he is unable to make it on time. He apologises for his tardiness and has asked me to stand in for him until he arrives.’

The original speaker grunted, those surrounding him releasing equally irate noises of disapproval. ‘I see. And are you qualified to stand in his place, CWOBrin?’

My patience was tested at the clear derision in his tone and I wanted to leap over the small banister dividing us to punch his face in, but Brin didn’t even flinch. ‘I am aware of everything the captain is, sir. We have worked on this case together, and I am equally qualified to represent the defendant.’

I couldn’t see his mouth, but I imagined him pursing his lips. Something instinctively was screaming at me that this entire trial was a farce and was rigged against me. There was no way they would have forgotten to summon the captain until the last minute unless they intended for him to stay away. He must have become a thorn in their sides in their efforts to frame me.

It was obvious to me that each and every one of these people in control of deciding my guilt or innocence were in league with The Program. They had been corrupted, and if these high-ranking individuals were then the cancer had spread further and stronger than I thought possible.

Which meant…

Oh, fuck.

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