The view from the east side of the moon never changes. In the far distance, through the cold, hostile nothingness we call 'space', the earth hangs as a small, blue sphere. For most of us it represents a hope, and a goal. For once we were allowed to walk there, amongst the others, now we are outcast, criminals, forced to live in small bubbles of life on a world that does not wish us on it.
If I had a choice, if I could travel back, I would never have grabbed that girl, I would never have pulled her into the shadows of that darkened street, lit up only by the very heavenly body I now reside on. I say 'heavenly' with a deep element of sarcasm, because what is really is, is hell.
They call it Base Beta, but never what it really is. It's a penal colony. There are no guards, there are no restraints bar the deadly void outside our doors and walls and windows. We are free to leave at any time through any of the 12 airlocks, each one labeled only by a single zodiac. We, however, have no suits. Freedom comes at a prize.
Every day we get our rations. They drop through a little hatch in our dorms. For two weeks we get the very same ration. Only every two weeks do we get a visit from the outside world. Food supplies are dropped off, mail and parcels are distributed. We never see them, they empty their load through another, larger hatch on the outside.
Every 3 months they park outside an airlock. They take any that are getting close to release. We ourselves do not know when we're up for parole. All we do is sit here, and pray.
**
Long Gone Johnson, named so because of his speedy getaways(if we were to believe his tales of exploits), was picked up today. I do not see the justice. His capture preceeded the killing of five, including one police officer and his four year old daughter. Surly, my sentance would be shorter than his?
There is a rumour spreading. The exact dates of pickups has been determined through careful observations. They predicted this day as the day of the pickup, and, obviously, they were correct.
Men have scouted for truck all day, scuttling through the corridors, watching every Zodiac gate to space. None observed the truck arriving. None heard even the slightest rumbling until the doors opened and Johnson was called forth. The bi-weekly arrival of food and supplies can always be heard coming down the crater walls. Maybe the truck is small, and fast, leaving little to be detected.
**
We are all tired. Weary, our bones fatigued, our souls empty. For eight months the Zodiac gates have opened, but no-one was called forth. Attempts were made to enter the gate and thereby the transport. Nothing happened until all men were clear of the gate, then it closed, and, presumably, left us again, empty.
We've taken to fighting. I, myself, crushed another inmates jaw yesterday. In self defence, not that that is a valid excuse. We are slowly, but so surly, turning into mere animals.
Our rations have been cut down, the water in our showers are no longer temperate, but cold like the ice of antartica. We have never suffered, save for the pain of longing for a life in freedom. Now we suffer. The trucks still come, every two weeks, on the dot. They still deliver their supplies. We know, they have glass panes, we can see.
**
My arm, my bloody arm, is broken. The bone severed as a metal bar was used to stop me from grabbing my share of the supplies. Medical center is still fully functional, my arm is bandaged and supported.
I will not stand for this. Bar my one outing as a rapist, an act I now very much regret, I have never wanted to cause harm to a fellow human. That is, until now. Tomorrow I myself will be armed. Luckily it's my left arm that has been damaged. I have a sharp blade, ground from a piece of my bed, kicked loose by many restless nights. I will not become a victim.
**
I've succumed to the ways of the beast. I did not attack in self defence. I waited, I waited until dark, until our artificial nightfall. I lept from the shadows, at the mans back. I cut, once, twice, trice. Many more. He fell as my grip on him slipped with blood. His face was almost unrecognizable, his troat a mess of flesh and blood.
My arms shook from the rush of adrenalin. I felt sick, and threw up in the corner. I only spent a few minutes at the scene of the crime. I could not stand it, just like my crime on earth. I fled as fast as my quivering legs would carry me from the location.
This I must tell you, I have no regrets. We are no longer a society of curticies and civilization. We are a jungle. We do what we must, because we can. We will not be victimized if we can help it.
**
There are few of us left. Another fifteen have perished from attacks. I have friends now. We've barricaded half the complex. We are the majority, but only just. We control the food.
**
We lost four in last nights attack. The came from the ventilation system. Just a few days have turned them into hateful, hungry animals. We killed one, but hurt many more. Deep flesh wounds. My knife has seen more blood than I thought was possible. The floor is sticky from the spilt blood.
**
Five days have gone. I haven't heard them banging on the walls for the last twentyfour hours. They may all be dead, I pray to god, if there is one, that they are.
**
The truck came today. My Zodiacal sign opened. The Taurus. My name was announced. I am a free man.
I arrived at the door. I cannot believe that I get to escape this hell, this purgatory. The whole ordeal was over in seconds. As I entered the small chamber the doors were already closing.
Half an hour I have waited. There is no rumbling, no vertigo of movement. I do not believe I have left the spot where I entered this vehicle. Has it broken down? Am I to die, here in this closed, claustrophobic space. Never have I longed more for the savage brutes I have spent the last few months fighting.
**
There is a rumbling now. Deep, malevolent. If I didn't know better, I would say the devil was coming to reap what he sow.
Speaking of hell: It is heating up. I have removed most of my clothing.
**
I write this as I hear it spoken through some unseen speaker: "Norton Kain, we thank you for your cooperation you have exhibited upon entering this chamber. We are sorry to disclose to you that Earth no longer accepts reconditioned criminals.
"Years of study has shown that 70% of criminals will comit another crime in their lifespan. A fact you yourself has proven. From a rape to multiple cases of first degree manslaughter.
"We will set you free, you will no longer be confined to this facility.
"We assure you that the flash incineration of your body will not cause undue discomfort.
"The incineration will commence in 3 - 2 - 1.
misascribe photodromy plainish annexationist thymoprivic prytany unconvicting cryptostome
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