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She squeezed her aching legs together, conscious of the buzz still emanating from her pussy. “Punish? I’ve not done anything wrong!” She shuffled back on the table.
Marco held up his hand. “No. You haven’t. Don’t worry, at least, not until you’re in trouble. Then you’ll find out. So, be good.” He wagged his finger at her. “Will you promise to play safe out there?”
It was a prison; what did he expect from her? “Sure, as safe as I can.”
He briefly furrowed his eyebrows as if dissatisfied with her answer. “I’ll expect it.”
Was he her friend or foe? She really couldn’t tell.
He turned to the medics. “That’s it. You’ve had your research. Let her go now. Agreed?” He stood over Dr. Han and bore down on him.
Freya waited anxiously.
“Agreed.” Dr. Han nodded slowly. “Although, if my boss comes back with more questions, I might have to call her back for further studies.”
“You run that by me too. I want to know.” Marco glanced over his shoulder at her. “Off you go. It’s time you met some other prisoners and found your way around.”
Chapter Four
The governor left once she was back on her feet. Swaying, she clutched her hot ass and gave it a rub. The clothes left out for her to wear—a short dress with spaghetti straps and a thong—were unbelievably skimpy. “That’s it?” she remarked.
Dr. Curzon shrugged. “It’s hot out there. You won’t need anything else.”
The guard outside had gone, so Dr. Curzon escorted her back to the man who’d processed her arrival. He summoned another soldier to take her to her accommodation. The new soldier pulled on a beret and snatched at her arm. She yanked it away. “You don’t need to hold me. I’m not going to run away.”
“This way.” He gestured to a door.
The heat hit her: dry, acrid, and blown about on a blustery wind. Her dress swirled up and dust waltzed about her feet. She shut her mouth tight, trying to avoid swallowing the dirt-filled air. He guided her along a paved road, leading her away from the air-conditioned building and down into the valley below, where at least it appeared greener. She glanced behind her and there on the plateau above them was Tagra city. An idyllic haven in the midst of a harsh landscape. She spotted palm trees and a waterfall cascading down the sides of a glass building, all tucked away behind the domed shield.
Eventually, they came to a crossroads and the start of the settlement used by the prisoners. Metallic boxes housed most of the workers and nearly all had no windows. Further along the canyon were larger constructions with several stories, but most of the buildings were at ground level. In the blazing heat of the two suns, she struggled to keep up with the long strides of the guard. Sweat trickled down between her breasts and she wiped her forehead. The ground softened as they reached the canyon floor. There was some grass, dry and parched in places, but at least green. A small stream weaved its way through the hard rocks and channels had been dug out to irrigate rudimentary fields.
“How many prisoners are there?” she asked the guard.
“I suppose, seven, maybe eight thousand. Turnover is high.”
“But, I thought this was a lifer facility. How could turnover be high?” She trotted alongside him.
“It’s not the kind of place where people live to a ripe old age and, well, murder is common. Watch your back. They like fresh ones.” He nodded to a distant group of men huddled in the shade of a building.
“Who do?”
“The factions. They fight amongst themselves. We only get involved when things get really nasty.” He tapped the firearm hooked to his belt.
“What do you mean, fresh ones?”
The guard halted and Freya panted, heaving in lungful of dry air. “Fucking is the currency here. You’d best learn to trade in it. Other things, too. Food vouchers. Stock up when you can. Also, learn the rules. The League—”
“League?”
“The most powerful faction. They control the police and the black markets, the brothels, too. I expect the new governor will have his plans for keeping you lot under control.” He pointed to the habitat building nearby. “In there. You’ll be allocated a room. Somebody will show you where to get food and bedding.” He turned and started to walk back. “Good luck,” he shouted over his shoulder.
Freya crept into the dark building. A light flickered on and she crept down the long corridor. “Hello,” she called out. “Anyone here?”
A slender woman, tall and with willowy hair stepped out from the shadows. “Just arrived? Thought so.” She chewed on something and cocked her head up the corridor. “Last door on the left. It’s clean.”
“Thanks,” Freya said. “What’s your name?” She desperately wanted a friend, somebody to talk to and help her to adapt.
The woman narrowed her eyes. “Fizz.”
