TALES FROM CHARTED SPACE (Part 2) Episode 12: Jailbreak

TALES FROM CHARTED SPACE

Episode 12: Jailbreak

                    By Bradley Luczak

HOW TO SURVIVE PRISON (4 EASY TIPS!)

1) Don’t try to escape. There’s no way out of a jail that’s guarded by time travelers, so keep your head down and serve your time, and they’ll be nicer when you’re finally out.

2) BE CAREFUL while eating the food. Their meals aren’t checked before they’re served, so make sure there’s nothing stale rotten or moldy!

3) Unless directly asked, DO NOT speak when anyone on the other side of your cell is talking to you. They don’t want to hear your thoughts. They were ordered to tell you something.

4) If something or someone is taken from you, don’t fight back. You’re not gonna see them again.

“You see anything good on there, Alden?” Becket kept her voice to a low hush while Alden silently read over a slip of paper that was sitting in the corner of their cell.

“No,” he responded. “It’s just some stupid list. And get this, it’s telling us we need to stay in prison. I’m starting to wonder if this thing was really left by a prisoner, after all...”

Marcus groaned. “There must be some way out. Any ideas, Alden?”

“Nope. I mean, we’re not exactly the brains of this operation, you know.”

“Might not need to be.” Becket showed off one of her many devices, this one being a small metallic sphere, and added, “they didn’t take our stuff. As long as we keep ‘em hidden, we can make use of ‘em.”

Alden checked his own possessions, only to find he had nothing but the navigation device. After groaning, he asked, “you got anything on you, Marcus?”

“Just an old volume on Jesse Ælons.”

“Yeah, I doubt philosophy’s gonna get us out of this. Maybe you have something else, Becket?”

She shook her head. “Wasn’t planning on bringing much for a vacation. So we’re just workin’ with my little tripwire.”

“Great. Guess we better stay here until we can think of something real good...”

Skipping A Meal

Within a few hours, a pair of guards were looming over their trio of prisoners.

“Get up,” one of them harshly said. “Time to eat.”

“...You’re bringing us out?” Marcus questioned.

“To the mess hall. Stay in single file.”

The trio were moved out of the cell blocks and into the mess hall. Several lines of prisoners entered and sat at the few long tables in the same single file order they were brought in, no one so much as looking up upon entering. Alden was placed between Marcus and Becket. Their scheming began as soon as the guards placed food trays in front of the prisoners who had handed everything out and turned to watch from the room’s corners.

“Alright,” Becket started, “think this is our chance to break out. Any of us got ideas?”

Alden ignored that invitation to discussion. Instead, he picked up the rigid flatbread that served as a majority of his meal. “Yep. Stale bread. I’ve eaten frozen food that’s more malleable than this...”

“S’that what you’re worried about? Stale bread?! Come on, we gotta think of somethin’ here.”

“Well,” Marcus interjected, “perhaps we should look for a storage closet of some sort. Surely they confiscate a lot of materials from their prisoners. If we know where those items were taken, we can use them to our advantage.”

Becket nodded. “Good plan. Now we just gotta figure out how to get in there...”

After quietly stuffing the stale flatbread underneath his hazmat suit, Alden’s hand shot up. “Guards! I have a question!”

Nearly everyone in the room stared at him, watching on in either confusion or annoyance as one of the guards reluctantly stepped toward Alden. “...What do you want?”

“I was wondering if, er, I could use the restroom?”

“Use the restroom?”

“Yeah. I didn’t see a toilet in my cell, so I figure you’d have facilities somewhere here.”

In response, the guard gripped Alden’s arm and yanked him out of his seat. “Fine. Follow me.”

Out of the mess hall, Alden was dragged through a long corridor, passing cells and guard barracks. None of it stood out, with the exception of one room locked behind a flimsy wooden door— the warden’s office. In the second they passed by, Alden looked through the window and saw the same wrinkled man he was introduced to this prison by. He was slouching in his chair, talking to Schyler about nothing that Alden could hear. It didn’t look like she was responding.

“You’re not going there,” the guard yanked Alden away. “Keep moving.”

“Right, sorry.”

The restroom was an awkward experience. It was overly small, poorly maintained, and reeked of some smell that wasn’t quite identifiable. By far the worst aspect, however, was the fact that the guard continued to watch Alden as he stepped into the room.

“Hey, uh, you mind looking away, man?”

“Can’t. Inmates are too eager to use the security of restrooms to further potential schemes. I can’t let that happen.”

Alden sighed. Took in a deep breath. “Yep...that’s a special kind of messed up. You deserve this.”

‘This’ was a stale flatbread to the face. That, followed by a quick slam into the wall, was all it took to knock the guard unconscious.

I Fought the Law

“Look, I’ve already told you this several times,” Schyler was unceremoniously projected onto the seat across from the warden whose name plate read ‘J’ahn Barrows.’ “I don’t know what we did,” she continued, “because we haven’t done any of it yet. From our perspective, we landed on this planet just a couple hours ago.”

Barrows wouldn’t accept this explanation. “You committed these crimes decades ago. Surely, despite whatever time travel shenanigans you’ve been pulling, you would have these events in your memory banks.”

“Hmmm...nope. Doesn’t work like that.”

The door swung open, and a guard wearing a facemask stepped in. “Hey, err, I need to take Sc- her. The AI.”

Barrows sat up in his chair. “Why?”

“She needs...to go in with all the other confiscated materials, sir.”

“She may be able to give me valuable information.”

Schyler scoffed. “No, you’re not quite stubborn enough for me to give up info. Sorry.”

“A-And if she can’t give you anything,” the guard continued, “then there’s no reason to keep her here.”

“...really?” Barrows leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Take off your mask, would you? Show me your face.”

Schyler stayed silent. The guard hesitantly responded.

“I, er, don’t think that’s necessary...”

“Why not? Do you have something to hide?”

Rather than responding, the ‘guard’ snatched the bracer Schyler was being projected from and dashed out to the hallway.

Schyler couldn’t help but snicker. “What gave you that idea, Alden?”

“Didn’t really think about it, per say. Look, we actually do need to find all those confiscated items. You got an interior map?”

“No, not at the moment. I’ll see if I can download one—”

— her words drowned against the loudspeaker.

“This is J’ahn Barrows. It seems we have at least one convict attempting to escape. Unfortunately, he may have the capability to time travel. Keep your eyes peeled for one Alden Connoly. Human, average stature, dark skin, short hair, rough beard. He was last seen wearing a guard’s uniform...”

...and the list went on. Alden had all but ignored it entirely by the time Schyler spoke again. “Found it. There are several storage spaces, but the closest to us is down this corridor, past the mess hall. I’d wager it’ll be guarded though, if you’re worried about that.”

“Eh, probably no big deal. Let’s get out of here.”

Improvisational Escapists

“That didn’t take long,” Becket said with a grin, “but if he’s dressed as a guard, how’re we ‘sposed to know when he shows up?”

Shortly after that question was asked, a ‘guard’ barreled through the hall, pushing people aside to reach another corridor.

“...I would assume that’s him,” Marcus answered. “If we’re to escape, we should follow.”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘don’t gotta tell me.”

There was a large, metallic door standing in the way of the storage room, and as Schyler predicted, two guards standing on either side of it. Alden didn’t plan for them. He didn’t think he needed to.

“Hey, I need in there,” he breathlessly told the guards.

Their eyes narrowed. “What for?”

“Dropping off the AI. Th- That way Connoly can’t get to it. Right?”

In response, the guards brought out their stun batons.

“H-hey! What’s that for?!”

“Weren’t you paying attention to the intercoms, idiot? The warden said you have the AI with you.”

“Ah. I, uh, there’s been a misunderstanding—”

And at that moment, seconds before they could strike, the guards were brought to the floor. It was only after they were down that Alden noted the cords wrapped around their legs.

“Hey!” Becket called out, “what are you doin’, running here without us?”

“I thought I needed to grab supplies for you two. Guess your one trick worked out fine, though.”

“Better I use one trick than you goin’ without a plan...”

“Uh, hey,” Schyler cut in, “we should still head inside this room. If we jump back in time there, we likely won’t be noticed.”

The four pulled the door open, stepped inside, and escaped...

...once the light left their eyes, the group found themselves in an open field.

Alden assumed, “this is the furthest point back in time, right?”

“It should be,” Schyler confirmed.

Marcus turned his head upward, and grimaced. “It doesn’t seem quite the same as the last time we were here. The air feels heavier.” When Marcus turned the other direction, he froze up. It was easy to see why when the others followed suit— one of the nearby islands was littered with pollution, practically drowning as sludge began slowly spilling over the plains.

Becket scratched her head. “That’s, uh, that’s the future, ‘innit?”

“Yes,” Schyler managed, “but that doesn’t make sense...perhaps the two time periods are merging? Some side effects of constant time travel? I wasn’t expecting to see anything like this...”

Alden let out a sigh. “Yeah. I should’ve held on to my hazard suit.”

TO BE CONTINUED…