Malcolm heard loud voices and a group of men entered the passage, laughing and joking as they walked. He glanced at Trip, who had shrunk back behind him, slouching as if that would make a difference. Malcolm continued walking towards the men, all the while scanning the passage for a means of escape or defence, if needed.
As the group passed, one of the men nodded to Malcolm before he noticed Trip. He stopped in surprise, and his friends, not paying attention, almost crashed into his back. Malcolm watched the man's face turn stormy as he stared at Trip.
"You are not allowed here," he said, biting out each word. "You know that Dufor is off-limits to people of your 'kind'," he added, twisting the last word into something ugly.
Malcolm started in surprise. T'Pol had said "Xenophobic," and they'd known to be cautious, but -
Before Malcolm could say a word or even move, he found himself on his back in the narrow space, men swarming around him as they reached for Trip. He scrambled up and onto his knees. He reached for his weapon, but froze when a bright white light and an excruciatingly loud noise filled the space. He looked up, following the gazes of the men around him, and saw a large object float over the alley. The noise got louder, filling his senses, and he fell to the ground before he realised that he was falling.
Knowing that time was short - this was most likely some sort of enforcement device - he squinted against the brightness and looked for a place where he could hide his communicator and weapon. There was a space carved in the ground in front of one of the windows, so he tossed them in there. He saw Trip's devices follow his own, and he pushed some debris and trash into the small space to cover them just as his world turned white, then black.
x-x
NOW
Malcolm looked up from his own meal to see Trip push his tray away, food uneaten. Trip started playing with his food, using a utensil to trace swirling patterns in the grey mush.
Ignoring the prisoners seated all around them, Malcolm leaned forward. "Are you all right?" He noticed the prisoner next to Trip glance quickly at him, then away. There was no bloody privacy in this damned place.
"Trip?" he said, dropping his voice. "Are you all right?"
Trip finally looked at him, and Malcolm didn't like what he saw. Trip looked more than a bit anxious, his new-found pallor highlighting his latest bruise, this one on his cheekbone.
"We've been in here for three days," Trip said.
Malcolm knew that there was a whole world of meaning in those few words. Since his arrival in Jesem prison, Trip had been the target of a group of inmates lead by a rabid xenophobe named Hemsej. And since their schedules didn't match, Malcolm had been powerless to help Trip defend himself.
Hell, at this point, when Trip showed up at a meal with a new bruise or cut, Malcolm didn't even ask what had happened. He knew what had happened. Hemsej.
Malcolm kept his voice pitched low, hoping that only Trip could hear it over the buzz of the conversations around them. "It's unlikely that Enterprise will be able to find us."
Trip nodded sharply. "I know that. Their scanners won't work here, and it's not like they can contact the local government."
Malcolm pushed his own tray aside. "So they'll probably send a team down. In fact, they probably already have done. Likely there is someone monitoring our rendezvous point."
Trip's expression changed from despair to hope. "So if we can get out..."
"If," Malcolm replied, emphasising the word.
"We could go to the rendezvous point and - "
Malcolm leaned forward, interrupting. "Or not even that far. We just need to get to where we were taken."
"Dufor."
"Dufor," Malcolm echoed.
Trip glanced at the guards stationed at the large room's only door. "The guards have communications devices that are obviously working in here, so I figure the disturbance prevents long-distance comm. only. If we can get to our communicators, we may have enough range to reach whoever's at the rendezvous." Trip frowned. "But they won't wait there forever."
Malcolm's eyes shot up as Hemsej passed close behind Trip. Trip cringed as the man brushed his shoulder, but he spat a quiet "Don't!" when Malcolm began to stand.
Their eyes met, and Malcolm said, "We need to go soon."
x-x
THEN
Malcolm paced the length of his small cell. Five strides to get from one clear wall to the next, then a turn, and five strides back. Facing out into the cellblock, he stared at the place where the door, now invisible, had opened to let him enter. He stretched his arms to both sides. A bit less than two metres wide, then. Not particularly big, but not the smallest room he'd ever been assigned. And with only one bunk, apparently he'd have no cellmate. He took in the smell of antiseptic. At least it was clean. "Small favours," he murmured.
He pushed his palms against the clear material that formed the walls and pressed. It was strong, whatever it was. Some sort of polymer.
He spun and slumped onto the bunk, its hard surface cushioned only by the blanket he'd been given during processing. Lying on his back, he stared at a series of white pipes snaking above him, letting his eyes trail along their length.
Hoping for escape, he thought. Or at least hoping for something to keep him mind off of Trip, who he hadn't seen since sentencing. Something to keep his mind off the fact that his neighbours could see his every activity through the clear walls. Luckily, only one of the adjoining cells seemed to be occupied, and that man...Malcolm turned his head slowly in that direction, trying not to call attention to the movement...that man appeared to be sleeping. He could just make out the man standing in the cell beyond that one - the walls appeared to have some sort of obscuring effect, so he could only see so far down the cellblock. He was about to look away when the man rushed to the front of his cell and started shouting obscenities. The cell went completely dark, its walls becoming an opaque black in a flash as a group of guards approached and entered, the man's shouts cutting off in mid-curse.
Great, fabulous. Not only did the cells seem impossible to break out of, they could also function as isolation units.
Malcolm turned his face back to the ceiling and thought about what he'd learned about Noitol, trying to find a way out of all this.
Once they'd been arrested, he and Trip had quickly learned that all sorts of differences were considered taboo here. Noitol did have people who were "different" - the rare person, like Trip, was taller, for example, or in other ways beyond the norm, physically, but the movements of such people were carefully controlled. And not only had they been involved in a "civil incident", as the judge had decreed, but people who were "different" were not allowed into that part of the city. So, despite their protestations, they were blamed for the incident and sentenced: Malcolm for six months, and Trip, probably due to his "difference", for a year.
Malcolm was at least grateful that they'd managed to hide their communicators. If they could get back to the city and find that alley, they might be able to figure out a way to contact Enterprise. He just needed a plan.
Malcolm woke sometime later to the sounds of movement outside his cell. Squinting against the brightness, he sat in a rush when he realised what was going on.
It was Trip. Malcolm felt a weight come off his shoulders, and he couldn't help but smile as Trip was lead into the cell next to his. When the guards left, sealing the door behind them, Malcolm stepped to the clear wall dividing their cells. His smile fell away when Trip looked at him, and he placed a palm flat against the barrier. "What happened?"
Eyes guarded, Trip lifted a tentative hand to his forehead, covering the bruise there. Then he shrugged. "I met some of the other inmates."
The next day Malcolm met those inmates as well.
x-x
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