Page 2 of Homebound
The crowd in the lobby was beginning to thin out as the cleaning staff, cooks, and technicians dispersed to begin their duties. Following their lead, Gemma and Arlo turned and went to the staircase.
“Who else is assigned to the third floor?” she asked him.
“Just the three of us. The powers that be” - he rolled his eyes heavenward - “don’t consider the third floor dangerous or overcrowded. On the fifth, where the really bad boys are housed, it’s hell.”
“And I heard they brought a new bunch of gang members in the other day.”
“Yeah, that’s why you’re here. They took Bug from us to work on the fifth floor. Bug’s a big guy, and they need big guys up there. Us - we get by fine with average sizes. But we stay busy.”
Gemma wanted to ask him what kind of pointers he could offer on handling the population she’d be dealing with, but her time ran out. They climbed the last flight of stairs and reached the third floor.
Arlo moved ahead of her into a poorly lit corridor lined on one side with cells. The setup was exactly the same as on the second floor where Gemma used to work, and it was probably the same on every cell block of the prison. It smelled just as gross here but a little peculiar, with exotic, spicy undertones. Still stale sweat and dirty socks mixed with urine, yet different. Gemma struggled to put a name to the difference.
The door that let her in from the staircase clanged shut sealing her in with them, and she hovered there in hesitation. From where she stood she could see the few closest cells and discern their inhabitants. Some were already awake and loitering at the doors with arms casually thrust between the heavy iron bars.
Another unsettling revelation about her new assignment stared Gemma in the face: the third floor was alien and male.
“I hope you aren’t one of those girls who take forever to get ready,” Arlo nudged her. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”
Gemma looked at him in question. “Where’s Ruby?”
“Probably late.” Arlo’s expression said he wasn’t concerned nor surprised.
He strolled off to perform a morning roll call.
“Wake up! Wake up! Rise and shine, motherfuckers!” he shouted as he went. He used the handle of his extendable stun stick to bang at the bars when he found an inmate still sleeping.
Gemma stood rooted to the floor and tried not to stare, but it was hard. The collection of the species inside this one cellblock could fill an encyclopedia of all humanoids in evidence.
Perali and Tana-Tana aliens occupied several cells she could see, which was to be expected given their large presence in the City. Calling forth all her limited knowledge of species, she recognized a Sakka and a small-statured Xosa. Another one, with prominent fuzzy ears, must be a Tarai. She’d never seen one, but she’d heard about the ears.
The aliens, in turn, regarded her with curiosity. Some uttered a good morning, others simply stared. The sounds of this floor, the unfamiliar speech coming from the cells sounded strange to Gemma’s untrained ear.
Ruby finally made an appearance, a tall gaunt woman with a hard-looking face, its stony expression telling the story of a lifetime of hardship. Lines crisscrossed the skin of her cheeks and forehead at every angle, and none of them appeared to be put there by laughter. She looked harassed and gloomy, and Gemma surmised that for her tardiness, today Ruby would be working for free.
“Good morning, Ruby,” Gemma turned to her, partly because she felt bad for the woman and sought to offer her a gesture of support, partly to escape the scrutiny of the alien prisoners. “I”m Gemma.”
“Hi, Gemma,” Ruby replied, and her name was snatched from the air and repeated down the corridor.
“Gemma, Gemma, Gemma” she heard it pronounced and moved like a relay baton from one cell to the next by peculiar voices.
“Welcome to the third floor. Did Arlo give you a tour?”
Gemma smiled. “He and I talked on the way up. Does it count as a tour?”
“Eh, he didn’t bother, did he. Let’s go, I’ll give you some pointers.”
Gemma went, for going with Ruby didn’t seem quite as daunting. They followed Arlo who’d disappeared around the corner.
“Hiya, guys, whassup?” Ruby waved at some with complete ease.
One guy, a Perali in cell number 34, chuckled. “Loads of news to share, Ruby. I found a dead spider in my crapper this morning. You?”
“See, there’s entertainment for you, like in a five-star hotel,” Ruby good-naturally retorted.
When they moved past his cell, Ruby said under her breath, “He’s fine, this Arc in number 34. He’s one of the stable ones, doesn’t show attitude, doesn’t expect special treatment.”
Gemma filed that tidbit away. “Why is he in prison?”
