Page 1 of Homebound
Chapter 1
Dawn had not yet broken when Gemma McKinley came within sight of the prison. It loomed ahead barely silhouetted against the dark sky, a hulking five-story quadrangle with no windows facing the street.
The prison was hundreds of years old, built long before Meeus had been colonized by humans, and good ol’ Earth started its inexorable decline into the cesspit of the Universe.
Back then, no taxpayer money had been spared on the prison’s construction. Copious amounts of reinforced concrete had been poured in a precise fashion to resemble a medieval castle, and the resulting structure had been celebrated as a symbol of firm control and a threat to those who dared to break the law.
And so it remained, Gemma supposed, the symbol and the threat. For her, the prison was merely a job. Not the job she had dreamed about when she was a little girl, to be sure, but life was what life was, and sometimes survival meant having to adjust one’s expectations.
Gemma hastened her uneven steps down a pitted sidewalk that weaved through the tumbledown neighborhood. Other figures were walking in the darkness making their way toward the back entrance. People like her, custody helpers that took care of the inmate population’s most basic needs, their shoulders hunched in the cold wind that blew right through their clothes.
The nightly lockdown would be lifted at six sharp, and to earn the full day’s pay, everyone had to be scanned in before the siren sounded.
A solid metal door with rust spots opened and closed with each arrival. A round onyx plate mounted next to the door reminded of the glory days of a by-gone era of a technological boom. Gemma pulled her mended glove off cringing at having to splay open her stiff fingers and touching the icy scanner. The door opened and let her in, and the portrait of Warden Heis smiled benignly at her from its heavy frame.
It was about as cold on the inside as it was out on the street, but at least the wind wasn’t blowing. She went to her locker and neatly folded her hand-me-down coat, placing it inside along with her hat and gloves. She put on a gray overcoat worn by the prison support staff, and now she was as ready for work as she’d ever be.
The siren wailed once, and more lights came on as the main generator kicked in and boosted the power for the day. Gemma exchanged greetings with familiar co-workers waiting to be thoroughly patted down. Once through, she promptly got in line to get her assignments and her stun stick.
“Morning,” the lady in the uniform of a prison guard greeted her and checked the ledger. “McKinley?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Third floor. With Beatty and Lloyd.” She handed Gemma a belt with a stun stick clipped to it.
“What? Are you sure? I work on the second, in the women’s ward.”
There was a pause as the lady frowned and checked again.
“Third floor,” she repeated firmly.
“Are you sure?” Gemma pressed the issue.
The guard looked up with cold eyes. “I know how to read, McKinley. You’re on the third floor.”
Gemma’s mouth opened. “But…”
The guard motioned to the door behind her that lead into the prison’s administrative offices. “You have any questions - the Operations Overseer will be on duty at eight. Now, move along, you’re holding up the line.”
Not a little shaken, Gemma automatically fastened the stun belt as she moved aside scanning the lobby with unseeing eyes. Convinced it was a mistake, and one that would be corrected soon, she fought the acute apprehension that swamped her and made her cold hands clammy.
The third floor housed aliens.
Alien people, especially Perali and Tana-Tana, were a common occurrence in the City where they had eventually come to live side by side with the humans. Other varieties mingled too, roamed the streets and traded goods, being that the City was home to a large network of spaceship docks built next to the landing jetties on the bayside. The docks were the industry that kept their City going where so many others had fallen.
But Gemma wasn’t native to the City.
And no alien, however common, was known to be a man’s best friend.
“You McKinley?”
Gemma whirled around. A thin wiry man was looking at her expectantly.
“Yes. Yes, I am. Gemma McKinley.”
“Thought so. I’m Arlo Lloyd.” He extended his hand and they shook. “I was looking for you,” he explained, “after we heard we’d be getting a new guy. Of course, you’re a gal, but cool. Ruby will be pleased.”
Gemma smiled with relief at Arlo’s welcoming words. He was on the short side with an air of shrewdness about him. His clear eyes were assessing Gemma with an intensity of the onyx scanner, cataloging the littlest details and piecing them together to form a full picture.
