Page 8 of Redstone
“I’m not asking for your help lightly,” Garrett had said. They’d spoken over the comm, and to Isidore, he had looked washed out, more than the interference of light years of distance could account for. He was tired, burdened: that was something Isidore could ease. “If we’re lucky, it won’t be needed at all. Kyle will be sent to Caravan, and I’ll leave his extraction to Robbie and Wyl, but on the off chance that he goes to Redstone … you’re the only person with the necessary background to get a berth there, given the timeframe we’re working with.”
“I understand.”
Garrett had sighed, running a hand through his loose hair. It was longer than Isidore remembered. “If he goes to Redstone, his safety has to be your first priority. However you keep him alive, you do it. I’ll get you support staff, but you have to understand: this could kill you. This could mean you giving your life for someone you’ve never met and have no reason to support.”
“But it’s important.”
“Hethinks it’s important,” Symone had interjected but without her usual venom. Apparently, she thought it was important too.
“Then I’ll do it.”
“Of course, you will.” Symone shook her finger at Garrett. “If anything goes wrong, this is onyourhead, do you understand me? You can’t just do this to me! You can’t give me your peopleand then expect me to hand them back to you to do with as you please!”
“If I recall, the last transaction of a personal nature between us was your own ward being handed off to me and my family,” Garrett snapped right back. “So get your head out of the self-righteous clouds and get to work, Symone. You didn’t have to agree to help, but you did, and now you’re committed. And so is Isidore, so calm down and help me figure out how to make this as foolproof a plan as possible.
“But first.” He turned back to Isidore. “I need to introduce you to Sir.”
It had only sped up from there. Isidore had become entangled in a web with strands that extended beyond his sight, but that was fine. He liked his place in it. He liked being needed, being necessary, having a purpose beyond carving a niche for himself.
And if he’d come to Redstone with a few more little secrets that his fellow inmates didn’t know about, well … he’d probably need them all once Kyle got there.
Chapter five
Five minutes until his shift—his final shift—was over. Robbie Sinclair went through the motions, checking in with each gate guardian and going over the fresh statistics for each ward. Caravan was a thoroughly modern prison, but it still emphasized human contact over purely machined policing, so every ward had four rotating guards to watch over their prisoner population, averaging about forty prisoners per ward. It wasn’t perfect, but it kept the inmates happier when they could see that they weren’t being forgotten by the people in charge, and it was a decent deterrent against violence—better than leaving a mech to watch over things.
And when violence did break out, well … that was kind of what Robbie was for. He was the captain of the special squad, called in when things got really rough. Not that they’d reached that level more than a half dozen times over the past three months. Caravan’s commanding officer had a handle on things.
He let the machine scan his implant and bid it farewell as he signed off, then headed for the door. If he was lucky, he’d be able to grab Wyl and get to the transport ship before—
“Officer Sinclair!”
Busted. He turned back toward his commander’s office. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Come here, please. I need to speak with you.”
Damn it. So much for a low-key exit. Robbie followed her into the office, the room plain and functional, just like its denizen. That wasn’t really fair to retired Colonel, now Head Warden Grace Grave, whose parents had been practically prophetic in their naming of her.
She was more than functional, she was a genuinely good leader, concerned for her employees and inmates alike and constantly working to improve prison stats on mental health, training, and rates of recidivism. Caravan was a max-security penitentiary, but not all of the prisoners there were lifers. In fact, the very concept of life in prison was outdated now, considering that Regen could keep people healthy for centuries. But a century’s span of time wasn’t considered to be unjust when it came to punishing the worst crimes, and so people stayed in for longer periods than ever. If they were ever to rejoin society with any semblance of normalcy, continual training and education were needed. Grace was a pioneer in moving the prison system beyond punishment and into genuine rehabilitation for the especially aged prisoner.
Her concern now was endearing, but Robbie preferred it when it was directed toward others. Still, he sat down across from her and inclined his head. “Ma’am.”
She looked at him—yes,gravely; Wyl joked about it far too much—and folded her hands. “When you told me you had put in for a transfer, I didn’t think twice about signing off on it, because of your excellent record here, despite the brevity of your service.I wondered why the location of the transfer was under blackout protocols, but I know you have an extensive record and assumed it pertained to something classified in your past. However, your transport ship has arrived, and once I recognized the name on it, I knew something had to be wrong.” She leaned forward, dark eyes swallowing the light. “Why are you transferring to Redstone?”
Robbie sighed. “Ma’am—”
“Is it blackmail of some kind? Or some sort of delayed punishment against you? Because there are steps that can be taken, very private and cohesive steps, to ensure that you don’t get taken advantage of for something you did in the past, whether it was on the books or not. I won’t have anyone in my prison being abused in any way.”
“Grace.” It was the first time he had ever used her first name and was enough to stop her in her tracks. Grace was accustomed to formality from all her employees, and Robbie had always been more than happy to give her that before. Right now, though, he didn’t have time for it. “I promise you, I’m not being coerced into doing this.”
Her narrow lips thinned even further. “Redstone is considered a punishment duty for Alliance guards sent there. I know it, and although I dislike the precedent that sets and the mentality it encourages toward the inmates, without consideration from the upper echelons, there’s nothing I can do to change it. I’m quite certain, however, that you haven’t done anything that would merit this sort of contemptuous move.”
“It’s a private matter.”
“There are no private matters when it comes to the professional setting.”
“Except there obviously are, or Redstone wouldn’t be used as a punishment for guards,” Robbie pointed out. Grace huffed.
“Don’t mince words with me, Robbie. Are you telling me that youcan’ttell me why you’re being sent to Redstone?”
