Chapter 7: The Gulag
AN: We all know it, regarding my ownership.
From the safety of the Institute, the employees watched in horror as Joanna was taken away.
"Station Gulag?" Velvet said, aghast.
"Known throughout the world as the criminal's graveyard." Foster said grimly.
"Better to kill her now and get it over with." Grimshaw said.
Carrington remained silent. Ice Station Gulag was the most feared prison on Earth, located six hundred miles from the side of Antarctica facing the Pacific. Nobody had escaped for nothing could survive on the surface. Nobody stayed long either. Either they were killed by their fellow prisoners, forced to the surface as punishment or died from the cold in their sleep.
He stood and spoke softly. "Velvet, the missile hit once again."
Velvet tapped a few buttons and the view screen lit up.
The missile streaked up ward and detonated against the Skedar hull, just as it had a week ago.
"It is the Institute." Velvet sighed. "We fired."
"That's not possible," Foster said. "All weapons visually accounted for, sir."
"An ancestor of mine maintained," Carrington said. "If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
"What does that mean?" Linda said.
"It means if we didn't fire those missiles, someone else did." Carrington said.
"Well, they didn't fire on themselves," Foster said. "And there was no one else present,"
"There was an enormous radiation surge." Carrington said.
"Not from us!" Foster said.
"A surge that big could only be produced by a hologram." Grimshaw said. "And all the hologram systems were off."
"A local holovision station?" Velvet said. They had problems like this before with the new holovision broadcasters.
"The nearest one is too far away," Carrington said. "Very near us, possibly just outside the Institute."
"If there was anyone outside the Institute, the guards would have seen them."
"Would they?" Carrington said.
Velvet thought for a moment. "An RL-420." This was a fairly new portable missile launcher that could fit on the back of a truck and launch any type of missile with unlimited range as well as a dataDyne tracking system similar to that on a CMP-150.
"An RL-420." Carrington said.
"Cloaked?" Linda said.
"No weapon can fire when the owner is cloaked," Foster said.
"All things being equal, Mr. Foster," Carrington said. "I would agree. However, all things not being equal, this one can."
"We have to inform the white house!" Velvet said.
"Inform them of what!" Foster said. "A new weapon that is invisible? Raving lunatics, that's what they'll call us. They'll say we're so desperate to exonerate Joanna that we'll say anything."
"And they would be right." Carrington said. "We have no evidence. Only a theory that happens to fit the facts."
"Assuming you're right," Velvet said. "Why would they merely disable the ship?"
"The Institute will be searched with a fine tooth comb." Carrington said. "You'll be in charge, Velvet."
"I don't get it." Grimshaw said. "If someone else did fire those missiles, surely the assassin went over from wherever they came from, not the Institute."
"You're forgetting something, Mr. Grimshaw." Carrington pointed at a console. "According to our database, we fired those missiles. If we did, the killers are here. If we didn't, whoever altered the database is here. In either case, what we are looking for is here."
"What are we looking for?" Foster said.
"Velvet?" Carrington said.
"A pair of gravity boots." Velvet replied.
Joanna trudged through he snow with fourteen other convicts, al chained together until they reached a huge, gray, dark metallic building.
A large Russian came out and called out against the wind. "This is the penal colony Ice Station Gulag. There is no stockade, no guard tower, and no electronic frontier. Only a perimeter of border guards and automated defenses prevent escape. Punishment means exile from prison to the surface. On the surface, nothing can survive."
As he spoke, a wiry prisoner, stripped of his protective clothing was thrown out. Joanna pulled her coat tighter against herself.
"Work well," the Russian said. "And you will be treated well. Work badly and you will die."
They all filed into the dark, dingy interior. The place was huge with cells and corridors.
Joanna bumped into a huge mass and looked up into the face of a seemingly ten foot tall German.
"Guten tag, Fraulien." He said.
"Oh, my God." Joanna said.
The German began to babble in his own language.
"I'm sorry, I didn't take linguistics." Joanna said, trying to reason with the huge man.
It didn't work as he hauled her up into the air and shook her.
"If this is your spot, I'll move on." Joanna said.
"He wants your obedience to the Brotherhood of Criminals." A dark haired Californian said with a cigar in his mouth.
"He's got it." Joanna said.
"And your coat." The Californian said.
"I'm afraid not," Joanna said. "Besides, it wouldn't fit."
"Grunter," One blonde haired, tall man said and began talking in German. Was it just Joanna, or did he resemble Jonathan?
The German set Joanna down and sulked off.
"Thanks." Joanna said.
"I'm Nathan Winchester." The blonde man said.
"And I'm Marshall Fearing." The Californian said. "You're Joanna Dark, I presume."
"How do you know that?" Joanna said.
"We don't get many presidential assassins." Fearing said.
"I didn't kill him," Joanna said.
"Of course not." Fearing said.
"But there's a reward for your death." Nathan said.
"Figures." Joanna said. "I've been set up all along."
"Somebody out there wants you out of the way," Fearing said.
"Well, what are you two in for?" Joanna asked.
"Well, I was accused of smuggling, Miss Dark." Nathan said. He was quite a gentleman.
"Call me Jo. It saves time and breath."
"I was convicted of murder." Fearing said. "Guilty as charged."
"How much time's left in your sentences?" Joanna asked.
Nathan laughed an empty laugh. "Don't you know? Everyone here is here for life."
Aggravated, Velvet slammed the cupboard closed in the mess hall.
"Any progress?" Carrington asked.
"No." Velvet said. "We have a work force of three hundred turning their quarters inside out, but the killer may still be among them. Surely the assassin disposed of the boots by now. Wouldn't it have been smart to leave them on Krinnji's ship?"
"Even logic has to give way to physics." Carrington said. "Gravity hadn't been restored by the time he escaped. Without the bots, he would have been caught."
Grimshaw extended thumb and forefinger in the shape of a gun. "Why not simply take a laser and vaporize them?" he asked.
Velvet went to a nearby weapons locker. Inside were twin Falcon 2s, a silencer and scope each with two extra magazines, an AR34 with a spare clip, 2 combat knives and a laser. She strapped the laser on her wrist and pointed it at a nearby pot. "Like this?"
She fired, turning the pot into a puddle of molten stainless steel as the alarm went off.
Velvet turned the alarm off and put the laser back. "At ease." She said. "As you know, no one can fire an unauthorized weapon in the Institute. Suppose when they returned, the assassin threw the boots into the refuse,"
"I'm have in the refuse searched." Carrington said.
"But the incinerator..." Velvet began.
"All Institute-issue clothing is fireproof." Carrington said. "If my guess is right, those boots will cling to the killer's neck like a leech. He can't have made his escape without them nor could he throw them out the window for all to see. Those boots are here, somewhere."
Linda ran in with two guards toting AR34s and her with a Falcon 2 with a scope.
"Did some one fire a...." She began.
"It's nothing," Grimshaw waved her away. "It's nothing."
"Who fired that..." Foster ran in
"Ah, Mr. Foster." Carrington said. "I believe you're having trouble with the power relays. How much time do you require for repair?"
"There's nothing wrong..." Foster began.
"Mr. Foster," Carrington said. "If we call off our investigation, the assassin will find a way to dispose of his incriminating footwear and we will never see Joanna alive again."
"...Could take weeks, sir." Foster finished and left.
"Velvet, tell the White house our power relays are malfunctioning." Carrington said.
"A lie?" Velvet asked.
"An error." Carrington replied.
"You understand, we've lost all contact with Joanna," Velvet replied.
"Yes, she's very heavily guarded at the moment." Carrington said. "But if I know Joanna, by now she's deep into planning her escape."
The punch landed hard on Joanna's jaw that sent her staggering back into the crowd who pushed her back into the fight.
Her opponent was probably the result of bacteriological experiment gone wrong. Why he was here, Joanna didn't want to know.
"You got him, Jo!" Nathan called. "You got him where you want him!"
The large thing beat Joanna down to the ground, where she noticed that his knees weren't protected.
She kicked both of them hard.
The thing groaned and fell, still groaning.
Joanna got up and went to a quiet corner.
"You ok, Jo?" Nathan asked.
"I think so," Joanna replied.
"They'll respect you now." Fearing said, a new cigar between his teeth.
"That's a comfort." Joanna said. "I was lucky that thing had knees."
"That wasn't his knee." Fearing said. "Not all biological experiments keep their genitals in the same place. But when whoever it is makes their move, you won't be here to ask if he's the one. You wanna get outta here?"
"There's got to be a way," Joanna said.
Night fell and the cold set in. In order to pas the time and help them fall asleep, Joanna told Nathan in the next bunk of the whole Skedar/ Maian conflict over the Cetan weapon.
"What a way to finish." Nathan said. "Six weeks before leave."
"I'm not finished yet." Joanna said.
"Speak for yourself." Nathan said. "One day, one night," He made a cutthroat gesture.
"Nathan," Joanna said. "Are you afraid of the future?"
"I believe that was the general idea I was trying to convey," Nathan said as he shifted on the unforgiving mattress."
"I don't mean this future," Joanna said.
"What is this?" Nathan said. "Multiple choice?"
"Some people are afraid." Joanna said. "Of what might happen. I was terrified."
"What terrified you, specifically?" Nathan asked. "If I may ask."
"No more neutral zone." Joanna said. "I was used to hating Skedar. It never even occurred to me to take Krinnji at his word."
"Try not to be too hard on yourself, Jo." Nathan said. "I'm sure you all felt exactly the same."
"No." Joanna said. "Somebody felt a lot worse. I'm beginning to understand why."
"Well," Nathan said. "If you got any bright ideas, now's the time."
"Time's the problem." Joanna said. "You and I are nothing. But I heard the judge. The peace conference is on again. Whoever killed Krinnji is bound to attempt another assassination. Now, if we can get out of here,"
A rattling came from the other side of the room. Nathan and Joanna pretended to sleep, while Joanna grabbed a sharp rock and tensed, waiting...
"Jo," The weight that came suddenly on her said. "It's me, Marshall." Sure enough, Fearing was on top of her. His cigar was gone, but the smell wasn't. "Listen, nobody has ever escaped from Ice Station Gulag."
"Except us," Joanna said.
"It's possible," Fearing said. "I know how to get outside the patrol border."
"How do we fit in?" Joanna asked.
"Getting outside the patrol border is easy," Fearing said. "But after that, you have to get us to Palmer, it's an old American station where we can get off this over sized ice cube. Can you?"
"It's possible," Joanna said.
"I can't make it alone," Fearing said. "And you're the likeliest candidate to come into this hellhole for months."
"Candidate for what?" Joanna asked.
Fearing pressed his cold lips against Joanna's. She was caught off guard and let the rock fall. Nathan rolled his eyes in the next bunk.
"Meet me at the mess hall at 7:00 sharp." Fearing said. "I'll see you there. Don't disappoint me."
When he left, Nathan spoke up. "What is it with you?" He said.
"Still think we're finished?" Joanna said.
"More that ever." Nathan replied.
End Of Chapter
Ok, review time. But take in mind; the next chapter has a chase in it, but not THE chase. You'll know when that is.
AN: We all know it, regarding my ownership.
From the safety of the Institute, the employees watched in horror as Joanna was taken away.
"Station Gulag?" Velvet said, aghast.
"Known throughout the world as the criminal's graveyard." Foster said grimly.
"Better to kill her now and get it over with." Grimshaw said.
Carrington remained silent. Ice Station Gulag was the most feared prison on Earth, located six hundred miles from the side of Antarctica facing the Pacific. Nobody had escaped for nothing could survive on the surface. Nobody stayed long either. Either they were killed by their fellow prisoners, forced to the surface as punishment or died from the cold in their sleep.
He stood and spoke softly. "Velvet, the missile hit once again."
Velvet tapped a few buttons and the view screen lit up.
The missile streaked up ward and detonated against the Skedar hull, just as it had a week ago.
"It is the Institute." Velvet sighed. "We fired."
"That's not possible," Foster said. "All weapons visually accounted for, sir."
"An ancestor of mine maintained," Carrington said. "If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
"What does that mean?" Linda said.
"It means if we didn't fire those missiles, someone else did." Carrington said.
"Well, they didn't fire on themselves," Foster said. "And there was no one else present,"
"There was an enormous radiation surge." Carrington said.
"Not from us!" Foster said.
"A surge that big could only be produced by a hologram." Grimshaw said. "And all the hologram systems were off."
"A local holovision station?" Velvet said. They had problems like this before with the new holovision broadcasters.
"The nearest one is too far away," Carrington said. "Very near us, possibly just outside the Institute."
"If there was anyone outside the Institute, the guards would have seen them."
"Would they?" Carrington said.
Velvet thought for a moment. "An RL-420." This was a fairly new portable missile launcher that could fit on the back of a truck and launch any type of missile with unlimited range as well as a dataDyne tracking system similar to that on a CMP-150.
"An RL-420." Carrington said.
"Cloaked?" Linda said.
"No weapon can fire when the owner is cloaked," Foster said.
"All things being equal, Mr. Foster," Carrington said. "I would agree. However, all things not being equal, this one can."
"We have to inform the white house!" Velvet said.
"Inform them of what!" Foster said. "A new weapon that is invisible? Raving lunatics, that's what they'll call us. They'll say we're so desperate to exonerate Joanna that we'll say anything."
"And they would be right." Carrington said. "We have no evidence. Only a theory that happens to fit the facts."
"Assuming you're right," Velvet said. "Why would they merely disable the ship?"
"The Institute will be searched with a fine tooth comb." Carrington said. "You'll be in charge, Velvet."
"I don't get it." Grimshaw said. "If someone else did fire those missiles, surely the assassin went over from wherever they came from, not the Institute."
"You're forgetting something, Mr. Grimshaw." Carrington pointed at a console. "According to our database, we fired those missiles. If we did, the killers are here. If we didn't, whoever altered the database is here. In either case, what we are looking for is here."
"What are we looking for?" Foster said.
"Velvet?" Carrington said.
"A pair of gravity boots." Velvet replied.
Joanna trudged through he snow with fourteen other convicts, al chained together until they reached a huge, gray, dark metallic building.
A large Russian came out and called out against the wind. "This is the penal colony Ice Station Gulag. There is no stockade, no guard tower, and no electronic frontier. Only a perimeter of border guards and automated defenses prevent escape. Punishment means exile from prison to the surface. On the surface, nothing can survive."
As he spoke, a wiry prisoner, stripped of his protective clothing was thrown out. Joanna pulled her coat tighter against herself.
"Work well," the Russian said. "And you will be treated well. Work badly and you will die."
They all filed into the dark, dingy interior. The place was huge with cells and corridors.
Joanna bumped into a huge mass and looked up into the face of a seemingly ten foot tall German.
"Guten tag, Fraulien." He said.
"Oh, my God." Joanna said.
The German began to babble in his own language.
"I'm sorry, I didn't take linguistics." Joanna said, trying to reason with the huge man.
It didn't work as he hauled her up into the air and shook her.
"If this is your spot, I'll move on." Joanna said.
"He wants your obedience to the Brotherhood of Criminals." A dark haired Californian said with a cigar in his mouth.
"He's got it." Joanna said.
"And your coat." The Californian said.
"I'm afraid not," Joanna said. "Besides, it wouldn't fit."
"Grunter," One blonde haired, tall man said and began talking in German. Was it just Joanna, or did he resemble Jonathan?
The German set Joanna down and sulked off.
"Thanks." Joanna said.
"I'm Nathan Winchester." The blonde man said.
"And I'm Marshall Fearing." The Californian said. "You're Joanna Dark, I presume."
"How do you know that?" Joanna said.
"We don't get many presidential assassins." Fearing said.
"I didn't kill him," Joanna said.
"Of course not." Fearing said.
"But there's a reward for your death." Nathan said.
"Figures." Joanna said. "I've been set up all along."
"Somebody out there wants you out of the way," Fearing said.
"Well, what are you two in for?" Joanna asked.
"Well, I was accused of smuggling, Miss Dark." Nathan said. He was quite a gentleman.
"Call me Jo. It saves time and breath."
"I was convicted of murder." Fearing said. "Guilty as charged."
"How much time's left in your sentences?" Joanna asked.
Nathan laughed an empty laugh. "Don't you know? Everyone here is here for life."
Aggravated, Velvet slammed the cupboard closed in the mess hall.
"Any progress?" Carrington asked.
"No." Velvet said. "We have a work force of three hundred turning their quarters inside out, but the killer may still be among them. Surely the assassin disposed of the boots by now. Wouldn't it have been smart to leave them on Krinnji's ship?"
"Even logic has to give way to physics." Carrington said. "Gravity hadn't been restored by the time he escaped. Without the bots, he would have been caught."
Grimshaw extended thumb and forefinger in the shape of a gun. "Why not simply take a laser and vaporize them?" he asked.
Velvet went to a nearby weapons locker. Inside were twin Falcon 2s, a silencer and scope each with two extra magazines, an AR34 with a spare clip, 2 combat knives and a laser. She strapped the laser on her wrist and pointed it at a nearby pot. "Like this?"
She fired, turning the pot into a puddle of molten stainless steel as the alarm went off.
Velvet turned the alarm off and put the laser back. "At ease." She said. "As you know, no one can fire an unauthorized weapon in the Institute. Suppose when they returned, the assassin threw the boots into the refuse,"
"I'm have in the refuse searched." Carrington said.
"But the incinerator..." Velvet began.
"All Institute-issue clothing is fireproof." Carrington said. "If my guess is right, those boots will cling to the killer's neck like a leech. He can't have made his escape without them nor could he throw them out the window for all to see. Those boots are here, somewhere."
Linda ran in with two guards toting AR34s and her with a Falcon 2 with a scope.
"Did some one fire a...." She began.
"It's nothing," Grimshaw waved her away. "It's nothing."
"Who fired that..." Foster ran in
"Ah, Mr. Foster." Carrington said. "I believe you're having trouble with the power relays. How much time do you require for repair?"
"There's nothing wrong..." Foster began.
"Mr. Foster," Carrington said. "If we call off our investigation, the assassin will find a way to dispose of his incriminating footwear and we will never see Joanna alive again."
"...Could take weeks, sir." Foster finished and left.
"Velvet, tell the White house our power relays are malfunctioning." Carrington said.
"A lie?" Velvet asked.
"An error." Carrington replied.
"You understand, we've lost all contact with Joanna," Velvet replied.
"Yes, she's very heavily guarded at the moment." Carrington said. "But if I know Joanna, by now she's deep into planning her escape."
The punch landed hard on Joanna's jaw that sent her staggering back into the crowd who pushed her back into the fight.
Her opponent was probably the result of bacteriological experiment gone wrong. Why he was here, Joanna didn't want to know.
"You got him, Jo!" Nathan called. "You got him where you want him!"
The large thing beat Joanna down to the ground, where she noticed that his knees weren't protected.
She kicked both of them hard.
The thing groaned and fell, still groaning.
Joanna got up and went to a quiet corner.
"You ok, Jo?" Nathan asked.
"I think so," Joanna replied.
"They'll respect you now." Fearing said, a new cigar between his teeth.
"That's a comfort." Joanna said. "I was lucky that thing had knees."
"That wasn't his knee." Fearing said. "Not all biological experiments keep their genitals in the same place. But when whoever it is makes their move, you won't be here to ask if he's the one. You wanna get outta here?"
"There's got to be a way," Joanna said.
Night fell and the cold set in. In order to pas the time and help them fall asleep, Joanna told Nathan in the next bunk of the whole Skedar/ Maian conflict over the Cetan weapon.
"What a way to finish." Nathan said. "Six weeks before leave."
"I'm not finished yet." Joanna said.
"Speak for yourself." Nathan said. "One day, one night," He made a cutthroat gesture.
"Nathan," Joanna said. "Are you afraid of the future?"
"I believe that was the general idea I was trying to convey," Nathan said as he shifted on the unforgiving mattress."
"I don't mean this future," Joanna said.
"What is this?" Nathan said. "Multiple choice?"
"Some people are afraid." Joanna said. "Of what might happen. I was terrified."
"What terrified you, specifically?" Nathan asked. "If I may ask."
"No more neutral zone." Joanna said. "I was used to hating Skedar. It never even occurred to me to take Krinnji at his word."
"Try not to be too hard on yourself, Jo." Nathan said. "I'm sure you all felt exactly the same."
"No." Joanna said. "Somebody felt a lot worse. I'm beginning to understand why."
"Well," Nathan said. "If you got any bright ideas, now's the time."
"Time's the problem." Joanna said. "You and I are nothing. But I heard the judge. The peace conference is on again. Whoever killed Krinnji is bound to attempt another assassination. Now, if we can get out of here,"
A rattling came from the other side of the room. Nathan and Joanna pretended to sleep, while Joanna grabbed a sharp rock and tensed, waiting...
"Jo," The weight that came suddenly on her said. "It's me, Marshall." Sure enough, Fearing was on top of her. His cigar was gone, but the smell wasn't. "Listen, nobody has ever escaped from Ice Station Gulag."
"Except us," Joanna said.
"It's possible," Fearing said. "I know how to get outside the patrol border."
"How do we fit in?" Joanna asked.
"Getting outside the patrol border is easy," Fearing said. "But after that, you have to get us to Palmer, it's an old American station where we can get off this over sized ice cube. Can you?"
"It's possible," Joanna said.
"I can't make it alone," Fearing said. "And you're the likeliest candidate to come into this hellhole for months."
"Candidate for what?" Joanna asked.
Fearing pressed his cold lips against Joanna's. She was caught off guard and let the rock fall. Nathan rolled his eyes in the next bunk.
"Meet me at the mess hall at 7:00 sharp." Fearing said. "I'll see you there. Don't disappoint me."
When he left, Nathan spoke up. "What is it with you?" He said.
"Still think we're finished?" Joanna said.
"More that ever." Nathan replied.
End Of Chapter
Ok, review time. But take in mind; the next chapter has a chase in it, but not THE chase. You'll know when that is.