{"data":{"id":14068,"title":"Orbital Supermax: Episode Six","rsi_url":"https:\/\/robertsspaceindustries.com\/comm-link\/serialized-fiction\/14068-Orbital-Supermax-Episode-Six","api_url":"https:\/\/api.star-citizen.wiki\/api\/comm-links\/14068","api_public_url":"https:\/\/api.star-citizen.wiki\/comm-links\/14068","channel":"Undefined","category":"Undefined","series":"Orbital Supermax","images":[{"id":1947,"name":"OSM_FI2v4a.jpg","rsi_url":"https:\/\/robertsspaceindustries.com\/media\/hqo978t1u2njxr\/source\/OSM_FI2v4a.jpg","alt":"","size":1895039,"mime_type":"image\/jpeg","last_modified":"2014-07-03T22:49:29+00:00","api_url":"https:\/\/api.star-citizen.wiki\/api\/comm-link-images\/1947","similar_url":"https:\/\/api.star-citizen.wiki\/api\/comm-link-images\/1947\/similar"}],"images_count":1,"translations":{"en_EN":"As ex-quartermaster aboard OSP-4, I have seen my share of dead bodies. Contrary to popular belief, we do not space the bodies of men who die in prison. Instead, each death begins a rigorous investigation, and I was required to provide for all of the medical supplies and any other exotic components the examiners need for their tests. I have seen the bodies of men shanked by other prisoners, beaten to death with lead pipes, and I even saw one man who\u2019d gotten stuck in one of the heating ducts and slowly cooked.\n\nThe sight that confronted me and the small group of escaped prisoners in the Forensic Psychiatry Ward was unlike any other I\u2019d seen. Dead bodies. Men and women, some wearing guard uniforms, others the flimsy dressing gowns of the patients. Some of their faces were beaten into a mass of purplish flesh, but others were recognizable. Some lay slumped peacefully against a wall while others wore looks of horror. Someone had broken the overhead lights and shattered glass littered the floor.\n\nI heard a sob from Cayla Wyrick. She knelt next to a young man with angry red welts on his cheek and a frightened stare captured in his cold, dead eyes. She said something to him I couldn\u2019t quite hear. Figuring she needed some privacy I left her and joined Wes Morgan, the mercenary we\u2019d rescued from the Maximum Security wing, who stood further down the corridor.\n\n\u201cDo you feel that?\u201d he asked me.\n\n\u201cExistential terror? Yeah, I\u2019m there.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he took a deep breath. \u201cThe atmosphere mixture is wrong in this wing. Captain Kilkenny\u2019s attack must have damaged the recyclers. There\u2019s too much nitrogen and too little oxygen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou can smell that?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he admitted. \u201cBut I feel a little drunk. Don\u2019t you? That\u2019s one of the signs of nitrogen narcosis. We need to find Herby and get the hell out of here as soon as possible.\u201d\nI turned and looked at the half-dozen or so men in orange-jumpsuits. They were all armed, many with prison tattoos on their face and hands. One of them, whom I learned was simply called \u201cShank,\u201d had dyed the white of his eyes so that he stared at us with blacked-out orbs. Not the type of men who needed any more \u201c-osis\u201d anythings.\n\nThey were the enemy of our enemy, so to speak, and we\u2019d somehow come to the conclusion that it was best to travel together as long as we were all trying to avoid becoming the Nova Dogs\u2019 next meal. Literally. They were cannibals. Now that decision was starting to look a little dicier. \u201cWhat do we do about them?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing.\u201d Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder. \u201cLook at them. At the armory they were taking turns trying to out alpha-male each other. Now? They\u2019re more afraid of Kilkenny than they are of us. If they weren\u2019t they would have already shot us both in the back \u2026\u201d His eyes roamed over to Wyrick, who knelt next to another of the bodies. \u201c\u2026 and done much worse to her.\u201d\n\nHe was right, of course. The worst of the bunch had stayed behind with Fat Max. I had no doubt they\u2019d already been captured by Martin Kilkenny. The rest of them \u2026 they were like a headless snake. Not as exciting as a live one, but also not as deadly.\n\nOur little group made our way further into Forensic Psychiatry. It was a small ward, but the hallways were all maddeningly similar to each other and there were quite a few double-locked doors that had been smashed open, often at a physical cost to the assailant if the bloody marks on them gave any indication. Always we heard laughter \u2014 the disturbed, joyless laughter that was as involuntary as a sneeze.\n\nEventually, we found one of its sources. A slim man with jaundiced skin, he was covered in medical bandages he\u2019d stolen from an overturned medical cart. He was desperately trying to bind wounds on his hands and wrists.\n\nWyrick knelt quickly to offer aid, but recoiled when the crazed man offered his wrist and she saw the metal band that dangled on one of them. She stumbled back into my arms and for a moment I smelled sandalwood and roses. I was reminded that she had put on perfume earlier in the day, never suspecting that an attack by pirates would turn everything upside down.\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cHis watch belonged to a friend of mine,\u201d she said quietly. Her hand closed on my arm, painfully, but her eyes were locked on those of her patient.\n\nIt was obvious that her friend\u2019s corpse now decorated the corridor behind us. One of the prisoners, name of Relic if I remembered correctly, came to the same conclusion. Only a few hours ago he\u2019d threatened us with a patch gun, but running for your life from a group of cannibals is a heck of a bonding experience. It wasn\u2019t that he cared for Wyrick \u2026 it was more like he\u2019d come to view her as part of his pack. Any threat to the pack was a threat to him.\n\nHe caught the man by a wad of hospital gown and shoved the barrel of his gun into his cheek. When the man didn\u2019t react beyond a giggle, Relic fired the weapon into a wall and then pressed the now sizzling hot metal into the same spot. \u201cYou\u2019re a dead man. He\u2019s a dead man.\u201d\n\nWyrick began to cry and I clutched her closer to me.\n\nThe crazed man began to mutter incoherently, and as Relic spun him around, I could see that several hypodermics were lodged in his back. \u201cNorth, East, South, West. It\u2019s West, isn\u2019t it? Only not quite. West, west, west. I\u2019m high, Wes, up in the sky, I\u2019m high. You gotta help me, Wes, before I fall down.\u201d\n\nMorgan had raised his gun the moment Relic moved, but now he squinted and lowered it. \u201cHerby?\u201d\n\nThe man\u2019s eyes rolled and his head lolled to one side.\n\nMorgan took two steps closer. \u201cIs that you? What the hell happened to you?\u201d\n\nRelic looked between the two of them, eyes so wide I could see the whites all the way around. His gun shifted from the man we now suspected was Konicek to Morgan himself. \u201cYou know him? Are you together?\u201d He turned to his fellow prisoners. \u201cWe\u2019ve been led into a trap. And he\u2019s at the center of it.\u201d\n\nMorgan\u2019s eyes narrowed and his hand tightened on his weapons, \u201c\u2026 just what in the hell?\u201d\n\nI remembered what Morgan had said about the atmosphere. \u201cRelic,\u201d I said, using his name to try and put him at ease. \u201cThere\u2019s no trap. This is the man we\u2019ve come to find. He\u2019s the reason we\u2019re here.\u201d\n\nWyrick pushed away from me and I was suddenly aware of how much I\u2019d enjoyed her attention. \u201cYour friend killed my friend,\u201d she said. Her bearing had changed in an instant from despair to bitter anger. \u201cWe\u2019re not taking him with us.\u201d\n\nMorgan\u2019s anger was almost indistinguishable from any of his other emotions, except that it was colder. Harder. I knew that if I didn\u2019t interject he\u2019d shoot Relic down without warning and then we\u2019d have to fight our way through his friends as well as the patients.\n\n\u201cNow, Caylie \u2014 Cayla,\u201d I quickly corrected myself. I was not immune to the ward\u2019s altered atmosphere. \u201cThere is no evidence that he did the killing. Those needles in his back \u2026 obviously he\u2019s been drugged, and not by anyone with medical training.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ve got about ten seconds to put down that rifle,\u201d said Morgan. The thumb and forefinger of his off-hand circled each other, and the rifle barrel shifted imperceptibly. I had the impression he\u2019d gotten the drop on Relic and not the other way around.\n\nPerhaps Relic knew it too. His tone was almost pleading. \u201cHe\u2019s a nutter. It would be a mercy. Be a mercy to all these men \u2014\u201d\n\nAs his gun swung out to encompass the entire ward, Morgan shot him cleanly though his shoulder. Relic\u2019s gun clattered to the ground and the prisoner himself was so surprised he followed it down.\n\nI kicked it away before he could regain his senses. Wyrick joined me a moment later, tearing at Relic\u2019s jumpsuit to check the wound. She needn\u2019t have bothered. If Morgan had wanted to kill him, he would have. I was certain the wound would prove non-lethal. A temporary inconvenience at best.\n\n\u201cLet me get those for you, Herby,\u201d said Morgan. One after another, he pulled the hypodermics free. He slapped the former patient lightly on the cheek, as if unwilling to use full force.\n\n\u201cWe have to get out of here, Wes,\u201d muttered Konicek. \u201cThey\u2019re all around us.\u201d\n\nMorgan nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. We\u2019d found the right man and it looked like we were all going to get out of here in one piece. I rose and came face-to-face with five hard men and the barrels of their rifles. Not believing that they could be meant for us, I turned around and spotted a herd of humanity down the corridor. A dozen men or more in blood-stained smocks, many with dried drool on them, stood at the other end.\n\n\u201cYou can all put down your weapons now,\u201d said one of the prisoners behind me.\n\nI realized that the guns had, in fact, been meant for us. Wes had spared Relic\u2019s life, but they didn\u2019t see it that way. One of us had shot one of them. Our little alliance was breaking apart.\n\nMy gun clattered to the deck. Wyrick looked back towards the prisoners. Her face was too moist for tears, and I realized that we were all soaked with sweat, though it wasn\u2019t much hotter here than anywhere else in the station. Was this another symptom of the poisonous atmosphere?\n\nMorgan did not drop his weapon. \u201cHow do you suppose you\u2019re going to get by them?\u201d he asked, nodding over his shoulder.\n\nA lean man with not enough teeth spoke. \u201cThey ain\u2019t armed. We\u2019ll go through \u2019em the same way we go through you.\u201d He smiled, showing off his most obvious feature.\n\n\u201cYou can\u2019t get off this station without her,\u201d I said, indicating Wyrick. Without her codes none of us were going anywhere.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d Wyrick said, and Morgan and I both looked over at her. She wasn\u2019t speaking to the prisoners. She was speaking to us. \u201cNone of you can.\u201d\n\nShe took a shuddering breath and put her arms out, as if she was steadying herself on the armrests of some throne, and then turned to the prisoners. \u201cLike it or not, I\u2019m the only hope you\u2019ve got. Any of you. That means that if we stay together, then we stay together. So I suggest you settle your differences. Stat.\u201d\n\nWith that, she turned to lead us down the corridor. Perhaps it was the altered atmosphere, but we followed like she was Moses walking through the Red Sea. And I\u2019ll be damned if those patients didn\u2019t part before us and let us through without so much as a whimper.\n\nto be continued \u2026","de_DE":"Als ehemaliger Quartiermeister an Bord der OSP-4 habe ich meinen Anteil an Leichen gesehen. Entgegen der landl\u00e4ufigen Meinung, dass wir die K\u00f6rper von M\u00e4nnern, die im Gef\u00e4ngnis sterben, nicht in einen Raum stellen. Stattdessen beginnt jeder Tod mit einer rigorosen Untersuchung, und ich musste f\u00fcr alle medizinischen Ger\u00e4te und alle anderen exotischen Komponenten sorgen, die die Pr\u00fcfer f\u00fcr ihre Tests ben\u00f6tigen. Ich habe die Leichen von M\u00e4nnern gesehen, die von anderen Gefangenen geschlagen wurden, mit Bleirohren erschlagen, und ich habe sogar einen Mann gesehen, der in einem der Heizkan\u00e4le stecken geblieben war und langsam gekocht hat.\n\nDer Anblick, der mich und die kleine Gruppe der entflohenen Gefangenen auf der Station f\u00fcr forensische Psychiatrie konfrontierte, war anders als jeder andere, den ich gesehen hatte. Tote K\u00f6rper. M\u00e4nner und Frauen, einige in Schutzuniformen, andere in den schwachen Badem\u00e4nteln der Patienten. Einige ihrer Gesichter wurden zu einer Masse aus violettem Fleisch geschlagen, aber andere waren erkennbar. Einige lagen friedlich gegen eine Wand gesunken, w\u00e4hrend andere entsetzte Blicke trugen. Jemand hatte die Oberlichter zerbrochen und Glassplitter auf dem Boden verstreut.\n\nIch h\u00f6rte einen Schluchzer von Cayla Wyrick. Sie kniete neben einem jungen Mann mit w\u00fctenden roten Striemen auf der Wange und einem ver\u00e4ngstigten Blick, der in seinen kalten, toten Augen gefangen war. Sie sagte etwas zu ihm, das ich nicht ganz verstehen konnte. Da sie etwas Privatsph\u00e4re brauchte, verlie\u00df ich sie und schloss mich Wes Morgan an, dem S\u00f6ldner, den wir aus dem Hochsicherheitstrakt gerettet hatten, der weiter unten im Flur stand.\n\n\"Sp\u00fcrst du das?\", fragte er mich.\n\n\"Existenzieller Terror? Ja, ich bin da.\"\n\n\"Nein,\" holte er tief Luft. \"Die Atmosph\u00e4renmischung in diesem Fl\u00fcgel ist falsch. Captain Kilkenny's Angriff muss die Recycler besch\u00e4digt haben. Es gibt zu viel Stickstoff und zu wenig Sauerstoff.\"\n\n\"Du kannst das riechen?\"\n\n\"Nein\", gab er zu. \"Aber ich f\u00fchle mich ein wenig betrunken. Du nicht auch? Das ist eines der Anzeichen f\u00fcr eine Stickstoffnarkose. Wir m\u00fcssen Herby finden und so schnell wie m\u00f6glich von hier verschwinden.\"\nIch drehte mich um und sah mir die etwa ein halbes Dutzend M\u00e4nner in orangefarbenen Jumpsuits an. Sie waren alle bewaffnet, viele mit Gef\u00e4ngnis-Tattoos auf Gesicht und H\u00e4nden. Einer von ihnen, den ich erfuhr, hie\u00df einfach \"Schaft\", hatte das Wei\u00df seiner Augen gef\u00e4rbt, so dass er uns mit verdunkelten Kugeln anstarrte. Nicht die Art von M\u00e4nnern, die mehr \"-osis\" Dinge brauchten.\n\nSie waren sozusagen der Feind unseres Feindes, und wir kamen irgendwie zu dem Schluss, dass es am besten ist, gemeinsam zu reisen, solange wir alle versuchen, nicht zur n\u00e4chsten Mahlzeit der Nova Dogs zu werden. Buchst\u00e4blich. Sie waren Kannibalen. Nun begann diese Entscheidung etwas riskanter auszusehen. \"Was machen wir mit ihnen?\"\n\n\" Nichts.\" Morgan hob eine Augenbraue und schaute ihm \u00fcber die Schulter. \"Sieh sie dir an. In der Waffenkammer versuchten sie abwechselnd, sich gegenseitig mit Alpha-M\u00e4nnern auszutricksen. Jetzt? Sie haben mehr Angst vor Kilkenny als vor uns. Wenn sie es nicht w\u00e4ren, h\u00e4tten sie uns beiden schon in den R\u00fccken geschossen....\" Seine Augen schweiften zu Wyrick hin\u00fcber, der neben einem anderen der K\u00f6rper kniete. \"... und ihr viel Schlimmeres angetan.\"\n\nEr hatte nat\u00fcrlich Recht. Das Schlimmste von dem Haufen war bei Fat Max geblieben. Ich hatte keinen Zweifel, dass sie bereits von Martin Kilkenny gefangen genommen worden waren. Der Rest von ihnen.... sie waren wie eine kopflose Schlange. Nicht so aufregend wie ein lebendiger, aber auch nicht so t\u00f6dlich.\n\nUnsere kleine Gruppe machte sich weiter auf den Weg in die Forensische Psychiatrie. Es war eine kleine Station, aber die G\u00e4nge waren alle wahnsinnig \u00e4hnlich und es gab einige doppelverriegelte T\u00fcren, die aufgebrochen worden waren, oft auf Kosten des Angreifers, wenn die blutigen Spuren auf ihnen einen Hinweis gaben. Immer h\u00f6rten wir Lachen - das verst\u00f6rte, freudlose Lachen, das so unfreiwillig war wie ein Niesen.\n\nIrgendwann haben wir eine der Quellen gefunden. Ein schlanker Mann mit gelber Haut, er war mit medizinischen Verb\u00e4nden bedeckt, die er aus einem umgest\u00fcrzten Krankenwagen gestohlen hatte. Er versuchte verzweifelt, Wunden an H\u00e4nden und Handgelenken zu binden.\n\nWyrick kniete schnell nieder, um Hilfe zu leisten, aber sie schlug zur\u00fcck, als der verr\u00fcckte Mann sein Handgelenk anbot und sie das Metallband sah, das an einem von ihnen baumelte. Sie stolperte zur\u00fcck in meine Arme und f\u00fcr einen Moment roch ich Sandelholz und Rosen. Ich wurde daran erinnert, dass sie fr\u00fcher am Tag Parf\u00fcm aufgetragen hatte, ohne zu ahnen, dass ein Angriff von Piraten alles auf den Kopf stellen w\u00fcrde.\n\n\"Was ist los?\" fragte ich.\n\n\"Seine Uhr geh\u00f6rte einem Freund von mir\", sagte sie leise. Ihre Hand schloss sich schmerzhaft an meinem Arm, aber ihre Augen waren an denen ihrer Patientin befestigt.\n\nEs war offensichtlich, dass die Leiche ihrer Freundin nun den Flur hinter uns schm\u00fcckte. Einer der Gefangenen, Name von Relikt, wenn ich mich richtig erinnere, kam zu dem gleichen Schluss. Noch vor wenigen Stunden hatte er uns mit einer Patchpistole gedroht, aber vor einer Gruppe von Kannibalen um dein Leben zu rennen, ist eine verdammt gute Erfahrung. Es war nicht so, dass er sich um Wyrick k\u00fcmmerte... es war eher so, als w\u00fcrde er sie als Teil seines Rudels betrachten. Jede Bedrohung des Rudels war eine Bedrohung f\u00fcr ihn.\n\nEr erwischte den Mann an einem B\u00fcndel Krankenhaushemd und schob sich den Lauf seiner Waffe in die Wange. Als der Mann nicht \u00fcber ein Kichern hinaus reagierte, feuerte Relic die Waffe in eine Wand und dr\u00fcckte dann den jetzt knisternden hei\u00dfen Metall an die gleiche Stelle. \"Du bist ein toter Mann. Er ist ein toter Mann.\"\n\nWyrick fing an zu weinen und ich umklammerte sie n\u00e4her an mich.\n\nDer verr\u00fcckte Mann fing an, unzusammenh\u00e4ngend zu murmeln, und als Relic ihn herumdrehte, konnte ich sehen, dass mehrere Subkutane in seinem R\u00fccken untergebracht waren. \"Norden, Osten, S\u00fcden, Westen, Osten. Es ist West, nicht wahr? Nur nicht ganz. West, West, West, West, West. Ich bin high, Wes, oben am Himmel, ich bin high. Du musst mir helfen, Wes, bevor ich umfalle.\"\n\nMorgan hatte seine Waffe in dem Moment erhoben, als Relic sich bewegte, aber jetzt blinzelte er und senkte sie. \"Herby?\"\n\nDie Augen des Mannes rollten und sein Kopf rollte zur Seite.\n\nMorgan ging zwei Schritte n\u00e4her. \"Bist du das? Was zum Teufel ist mit dir passiert?\"\n\nDas Relikt blickte zwischen die beiden, die Augen so weit, dass ich die Wei\u00dfen den ganzen Weg herum sehen konnte. Seine Waffe verlagerte sich von dem Mann, von dem wir jetzt vermuteten, dass er Konicek war, zu Morgan selbst. \"Du kennst ihn? Seid ihr zusammen?\" Er wandte sich an seine Mitgefangenen. \"Wir wurden in eine Falle gef\u00fchrt. Und er steht im Mittelpunkt.\"\n\nMorgans Augen verengten sich und seine Hand zog sich an seinen Waffen fest, \".... was zum Teufel?\"\n\nIch erinnerte mich daran, was Morgan \u00fcber die Atmosph\u00e4re gesagt hatte. \"Relikt\", sagte ich und benutzte seinen Namen, um zu versuchen, ihn zu beruhigen. \"Es gibt keine Falle. Das ist der Mann, den wir finden wollen. Er ist der Grund, warum wir hier sind.\"\n\nWyrick schob sich von mir weg und ich war mir pl\u00f6tzlich bewusst, wie sehr ich ihre Aufmerksamkeit genossen hatte. \"Dein Freund hat meinen Freund get\u00f6tet\", sagte sie. Ihre Haltung hatte sich in einem Augenblick von Verzweiflung zu bitterer Wut gewandelt. \"Wir nehmen ihn nicht mit.\"\n\nMorgans Wut war fast nicht von einer seiner anderen Emotionen zu unterscheiden, au\u00dfer, dass sie k\u00e4lter war. St\u00e4rker. Ich wusste, dass, wenn ich nicht einwerfen w\u00fcrde, er Relic ohne Vorwarnung abschie\u00dfen w\u00fcrde, und dann m\u00fcssten wir uns durch seine Freunde und die Patienten k\u00e4mpfen.\n\n\"Jetzt, Caylie - Cayla\", korrigierte ich mich schnell. Ich war nicht immun gegen die ver\u00e4nderte Atmosph\u00e4re der Station. \"Es gibt keine Beweise daf\u00fcr, dass er den Mord begangen hat. Diese Nadeln in seinem R\u00fccken.... offensichtlich wurde er bet\u00e4ubt, und nicht von jemandem mit medizinischer Ausbildung.\"\n\n\"Du hast etwa zehn Sekunden, um das Gewehr abzusetzen\", sagte Morgan. Daumen und Zeigefinger seiner Schildhand umkreisten sich gegenseitig, und der Gewehrlauf bewegte sich unmerklich. Ich hatte den Eindruck, dass er die \u00dcbergabe von Relic bekommen hatte und nicht umgekehrt.\n\nVielleicht wusste Relikt es auch. Sein Tonfall war fast schon flehentlich. \"Er ist ein Verr\u00fcckter. Es w\u00e4re eine Gnade. Seid gn\u00e4dig zu all diesen M\u00e4nnern -\"\n\nAls seine Waffe ausschwenkte, um die gesamte Station zu umfassen, schoss Morgan ihn sauber durch seine Schulter. Die Waffe von Relic klapperte zu Boden und der Gefangene selbst war so \u00fcberrascht, dass er ihr folgte.\n\nIch trat es weg, bevor er seine Sinne wiedererlangen konnte. Wyrick kam einen Moment sp\u00e4ter zu mir und riss an Relic's Overall, um die Wunde zu untersuchen. Sie h\u00e4tte sich nicht darum k\u00fcmmern m\u00fcssen. Wenn Morgan ihn t\u00f6ten wollte, h\u00e4tte er es getan. Ich war mir sicher, dass die Wunde nicht t\u00f6dlich sein w\u00fcrde. Eine vor\u00fcbergehende Unannehmlichkeit im besten Fall.\n\n\"Lass mich die f\u00fcr dich holen, Herby\", sagte Morgan. Einer nach dem anderen zog er die Injektionsmittel frei. Er schlug dem ehemaligen Patienten leicht auf die Wange, als ob er nicht bereit w\u00e4re, mit voller Kraft zu arbeiten.\n\n\"Wir m\u00fcssen hier raus, Wes\", murmelte Konicek. \"Sie sind \u00fcberall um uns herum.\"\n\nMorgan nickte, und ich atmete erleichtert auf. Wir hatten den richtigen Mann gefunden und es sah so aus, als w\u00fcrden wir alle in einem St\u00fcck hier rauskommen. Ich stand auf und kam von Angesicht zu Angesicht mit f\u00fcnf harten M\u00e4nnern und den L\u00e4ufen ihrer Gewehre. Da ich nicht glaubte, dass sie f\u00fcr uns bestimmt sein k\u00f6nnten, drehte ich mich um und entdeckte eine Herde von Menschen den Flur entlang. Ein Dutzend M\u00e4nner oder mehr in blutbefleckten Kitteln, viele mit getrocknetem Sabber an ihnen, standen am anderen Ende.\n\n\"Ihr k\u00f6nnt jetzt alle eure Waffen niederlegen\", sagte einer der Gefangenen hinter mir.\n\nMir wurde klar, dass die Waffen tats\u00e4chlich f\u00fcr uns bestimmt waren. Wes hatte Relic's Leben verschont, aber so sahen sie es nicht. Einer von uns hatte einen von ihnen erschossen. Unsere kleine Allianz brach auseinander.\n\nMeine Waffe klapperte auf dem Deck. Wyrick blickte zu den Gefangenen zur\u00fcck. Ihr Gesicht war zu feucht f\u00fcr Tr\u00e4nen, und ich erkannte, dass wir alle schwei\u00dfgebadet waren, obwohl es hier nicht viel hei\u00dfer war als irgendwo sonst in der Station. War das ein weiteres Symptom der giftigen Atmosph\u00e4re?\n\nMorgan lie\u00df seine Waffe nicht fallen. \"Wie willst du an ihnen vorbeikommen?\" fragte er und nickte \u00fcber seine Schulter.\n\nEin schlanker Mann mit zu wenig Z\u00e4hnen sprach. \"Sie sind nicht bewaffnet. Wir gehen durch sie hindurch, so wie wir durch dich hindurchgehen.\" Er l\u00e4chelte und zeigte sein offensichtlichstes Merkmal.\n\n\"Du kannst ohne sie nicht von dieser Station runterkommen\", sagte ich und zeigte Wyrick an. Ohne ihre Codes w\u00fcrde keiner von uns irgendwo hingehen.\n\n\"Du hast Recht\", sagte Wyrick, und Morgan und ich sahen beide zu ihr hin\u00fcber. Sie sprach nicht mit den Gefangenen. Sie sprach mit uns. \"Keiner von euch kann das.\"\n\nSie holte einen ersch\u00fctternden Atemzug und streckte ihre Arme aus, als ob sie sich auf den Armlehnen eines Throns bewegte, und wandte sich dann den Gefangenen zu. \"Ob es dir gef\u00e4llt oder nicht, ich bin die einzige Hoffnung, die du hast. Jeder von euch. Das bedeutet, wenn wir zusammenbleiben, dann bleiben wir zusammen. Deshalb schlage ich vor, dass Sie Ihre Differenzen beilegen. Stat.\"\n\nDamit drehte sie sich um, um uns durch den Korridor zu f\u00fchren. Vielleicht war es die ver\u00e4nderte Atmosph\u00e4re, aber wir folgten ihr, als w\u00e4re sie Mose, die durch das Rote Meer ging. Und ich werde verdammt sein, wenn diese Patienten sich nicht vor uns getrennt haben und uns ohne ein Wimmern durchlassen.\n\nwird fortgesetzt.....","zh_CN":"As ex-quartermaster aboard OSP-4, I have seen my share of dead bodies. Contrary to popular belief, we do not space the bodies of men who die in prison. Instead, each death begins a rigorous investigation, and I was required to provide for all of the medical supplies and any other exotic components the examiners need for their tests. I have seen the bodies of men shanked by other prisoners, beaten to death with lead pipes, and I even saw one man who\u2019d gotten stuck in one of the heating ducts and slowly cooked.\n\nThe sight that confronted me and the small group of escaped prisoners in the Forensic Psychiatry Ward was unlike any other I\u2019d seen. Dead bodies. Men and women, some wearing guard uniforms, others the flimsy dressing gowns of the patients. Some of their faces were beaten into a mass of purplish flesh, but others were recognizable. Some lay slumped peacefully against a wall while others wore looks of horror. Someone had broken the overhead lights and shattered glass littered the floor.\n\nI heard a sob from Cayla Wyrick. She knelt next to a young man with angry red welts on his cheek and a frightened stare captured in his cold, dead eyes. She said something to him I couldn\u2019t quite hear. Figuring she needed some privacy I left her and joined Wes Morgan, the mercenary we\u2019d rescued from the Maximum Security wing, who stood further down the corridor.\n\n\u201cDo you feel that?\u201d he asked me.\n\n\u201cExistential terror? Yeah, I\u2019m there.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he took a deep breath. \u201cThe atmosphere mixture is wrong in this wing. Captain Kilkenny\u2019s attack must have damaged the recyclers. There\u2019s too much nitrogen and too little oxygen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou can smell that?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he admitted. \u201cBut I feel a little drunk. Don\u2019t you? That\u2019s one of the signs of nitrogen narcosis. We need to find Herby and get the hell out of here as soon as possible.\u201d\nI turned and looked at the half-dozen or so men in orange-jumpsuits. They were all armed, many with prison tattoos on their face and hands. One of them, whom I learned was simply called \u201cShank,\u201d had dyed the white of his eyes so that he stared at us with blacked-out orbs. Not the type of men who needed any more \u201c-osis\u201d anythings.\n\nThey were the enemy of our enemy, so to speak, and we\u2019d somehow come to the conclusion that it was best to travel together as long as we were all trying to avoid becoming the Nova Dogs\u2019 next meal. Literally. They were cannibals. Now that decision was starting to look a little dicier. \u201cWhat do we do about them?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing.\u201d Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder. \u201cLook at them. At the armory they were taking turns trying to out alpha-male each other. Now? They\u2019re more afraid of Kilkenny than they are of us. If they weren\u2019t they would have already shot us both in the back \u2026\u201d His eyes roamed over to Wyrick, who knelt next to another of the bodies. \u201c\u2026 and done much worse to her.\u201d\n\nHe was right, of course. The worst of the bunch had stayed behind with Fat Max. I had no doubt they\u2019d already been captured by Martin Kilkenny. The rest of them \u2026 they were like a headless snake. Not as exciting as a live one, but also not as deadly.\n\nOur little group made our way further into Forensic Psychiatry. It was a small ward, but the hallways were all maddeningly similar to each other and there were quite a few double-locked doors that had been smashed open, often at a physical cost to the assailant if the bloody marks on them gave any indication. Always we heard laughter \u2014 the disturbed, joyless laughter that was as involuntary as a sneeze.\n\nEventually, we found one of its sources. A slim man with jaundiced skin, he was covered in medical bandages he\u2019d stolen from an overturned medical cart. He was desperately trying to bind wounds on his hands and wrists.\n\nWyrick knelt quickly to offer aid, but recoiled when the crazed man offered his wrist and she saw the metal band that dangled on one of them. She stumbled back into my arms and for a moment I smelled sandalwood and roses. I was reminded that she had put on perfume earlier in the day, never suspecting that an attack by pirates would turn everything upside down.\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cHis watch belonged to a friend of mine,\u201d she said quietly. Her hand closed on my arm, painfully, but her eyes were locked on those of her patient.\n\nIt was obvious that her friend\u2019s corpse now decorated the corridor behind us. One of the prisoners, name of Relic if I remembered correctly, came to the same conclusion. Only a few hours ago he\u2019d threatened us with a patch gun, but running for your life from a group of cannibals is a heck of a bonding experience. It wasn\u2019t that he cared for Wyrick \u2026 it was more like he\u2019d come to view her as part of his pack. Any threat to the pack was a threat to him.\n\nHe caught the man by a wad of hospital gown and shoved the barrel of his gun into his cheek. When the man didn\u2019t react beyond a giggle, Relic fired the weapon into a wall and then pressed the now sizzling hot metal into the same spot. \u201cYou\u2019re a dead man. He\u2019s a dead man.\u201d\n\nWyrick began to cry and I clutched her closer to me.\n\nThe crazed man began to mutter incoherently, and as Relic spun him around, I could see that several hypodermics were lodged in his back. \u201cNorth, East, South, West. It\u2019s West, isn\u2019t it? Only not quite. West, west, west. I\u2019m high, Wes, up in the sky, I\u2019m high. You gotta help me, Wes, before I fall down.\u201d\n\nMorgan had raised his gun the moment Relic moved, but now he squinted and lowered it. \u201cHerby?\u201d\n\nThe man\u2019s eyes rolled and his head lolled to one side.\n\nMorgan took two steps closer. \u201cIs that you? What the hell happened to you?\u201d\n\nRelic looked between the two of them, eyes so wide I could see the whites all the way around. His gun shifted from the man we now suspected was Konicek to Morgan himself. \u201cYou know him? Are you together?\u201d He turned to his fellow prisoners. \u201cWe\u2019ve been led into a trap. And he\u2019s at the center of it.\u201d\n\nMorgan\u2019s eyes narrowed and his hand tightened on his weapons, \u201c\u2026 just what in the hell?\u201d\n\nI remembered what Morgan had said about the atmosphere. \u201cRelic,\u201d I said, using his name to try and put him at ease. \u201cThere\u2019s no trap. This is the man we\u2019ve come to find. He\u2019s the reason we\u2019re here.\u201d\n\nWyrick pushed away from me and I was suddenly aware of how much I\u2019d enjoyed her attention. \u201cYour friend killed my friend,\u201d she said. Her bearing had changed in an instant from despair to bitter anger. \u201cWe\u2019re not taking him with us.\u201d\n\nMorgan\u2019s anger was almost indistinguishable from any of his other emotions, except that it was colder. Harder. I knew that if I didn\u2019t interject he\u2019d shoot Relic down without warning and then we\u2019d have to fight our way through his friends as well as the patients.\n\n\u201cNow, Caylie \u2014 Cayla,\u201d I quickly corrected myself. I was not immune to the ward\u2019s altered atmosphere. \u201cThere is no evidence that he did the killing. Those needles in his back \u2026 obviously he\u2019s been drugged, and not by anyone with medical training.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ve got about ten seconds to put down that rifle,\u201d said Morgan. The thumb and forefinger of his off-hand circled each other, and the rifle barrel shifted imperceptibly. I had the impression he\u2019d gotten the drop on Relic and not the other way around.\n\nPerhaps Relic knew it too. His tone was almost pleading. \u201cHe\u2019s a nutter. It would be a mercy. Be a mercy to all these men \u2014\u201d\n\nAs his gun swung out to encompass the entire ward, Morgan shot him cleanly though his shoulder. Relic\u2019s gun clattered to the ground and the prisoner himself was so surprised he followed it down.\n\nI kicked it away before he could regain his senses. Wyrick joined me a moment later, tearing at Relic\u2019s jumpsuit to check the wound. She needn\u2019t have bothered. If Morgan had wanted to kill him, he would have. I was certain the wound would prove non-lethal. A temporary inconvenience at best.\n\n\u201cLet me get those for you, Herby,\u201d said Morgan. One after another, he pulled the hypodermics free. He slapped the former patient lightly on the cheek, as if unwilling to use full force.\n\n\u201cWe have to get out of here, Wes,\u201d muttered Konicek. \u201cThey\u2019re all around us.\u201d\n\nMorgan nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. We\u2019d found the right man and it looked like we were all going to get out of here in one piece. I rose and came face-to-face with five hard men and the barrels of their rifles. Not believing that they could be meant for us, I turned around and spotted a herd of humanity down the corridor. A dozen men or more in blood-stained smocks, many with dried drool on them, stood at the other end.\n\n\u201cYou can all put down your weapons now,\u201d said one of the prisoners behind me.\n\nI realized that the guns had, in fact, been meant for us. Wes had spared Relic\u2019s life, but they didn\u2019t see it that way. One of us had shot one of them. Our little alliance was breaking apart.\n\nMy gun clattered to the deck. Wyrick looked back towards the prisoners. Her face was too moist for tears, and I realized that we were all soaked with sweat, though it wasn\u2019t much hotter here than anywhere else in the station. Was this another symptom of the poisonous atmosphere?\n\nMorgan did not drop his weapon. \u201cHow do you suppose you\u2019re going to get by them?\u201d he asked, nodding over his shoulder.\n\nA lean man with not enough teeth spoke. \u201cThey ain\u2019t armed. We\u2019ll go through \u2019em the same way we go through you.\u201d He smiled, showing off his most obvious feature.\n\n\u201cYou can\u2019t get off this station without her,\u201d I said, indicating Wyrick. Without her codes none of us were going anywhere.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d Wyrick said, and Morgan and I both looked over at her. She wasn\u2019t speaking to the prisoners. She was speaking to us. \u201cNone of you can.\u201d\n\nShe took a shuddering breath and put her arms out, as if she was steadying herself on the armrests of some throne, and then turned to the prisoners. \u201cLike it or not, I\u2019m the only hope you\u2019ve got. Any of you. That means that if we stay together, then we stay together. So I suggest you settle your differences. Stat.\u201d\n\nWith that, she turned to lead us down the corridor. Perhaps it was the altered atmosphere, but we followed like she was Moses walking through the Red Sea. And I\u2019ll be damned if those patients didn\u2019t part before us and let us through without so much as a whimper.\n\nto be continued \u2026"},"links_count":0,"comment_count":40,"created_at":"2014-08-07T00:00:00+00:00","created_at_human":"11 years ago"},"meta":{"processed_at":"2026-05-09 10:42:44","valid_relations":["images","links"],"prev_id":14067,"next_id":14069}}