I took a peep at each cubicle while the hologram waited patiently for my choice. Trey waved at me when I went past his cubicle.
All the cubicles, engineered with absolute precision, looked the same in size.
The shipbuilders soldered the metal sides of the bed to the side of the wall. No mattress, just a thick sheet of canvas held by thick metal rings.
Someone placed a grey ostean sponge pillow on top of a folded thin grey foam blanket.
Ostean sponges are among the most flexible yet impenetrable organisms in the seas of some planets within the Great Swirl galaxy.
You can't hide self made weapons in ostean sponges. The weapons will bounce back each time you tried to stab it in.
The Kamuy training camps used those same pillows. We used to practice stabbing on the ostean pillows for practice. Not the most comfortable pillows, but certainly better than having no pillow at all.
Table soldered adjacent to the bed, again soldered to the wall where a small porthole divided the view of space from the environment of the cell.
The engineers added adjustable straps to a plain metal chair to secure us and soldered its feet to the ground, facing the table.
Each cubicle is a rectangular box of metal with sharp straight corners and a sonic shower and toilet bowl, again soldered and fixed to the wall.
The sonic shower is installed with a reflective metal, which acted like a mirror.
All looked clean. I noticed the fading scrawls on the wall next to the bed in a few cubicles. None are legible enough.
The designers of my cell selected the gloomy shades of grey to inflict a subtle psychological message while sitting in a clean office with more colors than this dank cell.
They aimed to pair the radiation effects on our brain with a sense of despair invoked by the grey interior.
"Have you made your selection?" The hologram spoke suddenly behind me, urging for my selection of a tomb.
I swung around instinctively in a stance with my fists ready to hit.
"Whoa there," the hologram said as it flickered for a moment.
"Instinct," I replied. "Don't appear behind someone suddenly."
The hologram shrugged.
I straightened myself and pointed to the corner cubicle nearest to the stairway, with the least radioactive residue reading.
"That one."
My optical implant in my eye picked up unusual electrical signals behind the wall in that particular cubicle which the other cubicles didn't have. Possibly a control room of sorts or an electrical conduit.
"Fine, go to your selected cubicle," the hologram said.
I strolled down the path towards the corner where the cubicle was and entered its door, which slid closed immediately upon my entry.
"We will be loading the others. And after the jump, all of you will be released from your cubicles," said the reappearing hologram who then turned his head towards a panel on the entry wall.
He pointed his finger at the panel and continued, "you can opt to shut the door securely later if you wish for privacy."
With those words, he disappeared as I sat on the springy canvas bed, staring at the source of the energy readings next to the wall.
My optical implant can't penetrate astronium, but it detected the escaping frequency waves. My hand ran across the wall, nothing discernible except for scratches.
[Warning: Ethylene Oxide residue]
My optical implant relayed the information from my cybernetic sensors in the finger tips.
From my locked door, I can hear the muffled noises of the prisoners arriving to take their brief tour of their new home for one galactic month.
The cochlear implant adjusted the frequency to clear the muffling and amplify their voices.
"Shit doesn't look right," said one. "Astronium doesn't protect against certain types of radiation in space. And they don't have those fancy pods."
Oops, I guessed one smart prisoner has guessed about the Council's dirty way of eliminating its threat.
"They probably 'ave, ya know, those shield things," said an optimistic fool.
I rolled my eyes while laying down on my bed, listening to idle chatter. The ostean pillow moulded to the shape of my head while I stared at the ceiling, counting the idiots on board.
The atomites in my body performed surveillance of my critical organs and repair my body accordingly.
The implantation of the atomites killed thirty Kamuy from my batch within two days post-surgery. They died from the sheer excruciating pain of the cybernetic neural implants attempting to re-adjust, or the seizures.
At best, the post-surgical pain was like a million hammers pounding with great force on our heads and my body burning in the fire. No amount of painkillers dulled the agonising recovery.
[Radiation shielding and repair function: activated]
"Attention all, we are disembarking from the space station, prepare for take off. All prisoners are to strap onto the chair," a man announced over the ship's communication systems.
Must be a different crew member, I thought. He didn't sound like the hologram or the ones speaking over the intercom earlier at the loading deck. I counted five of them so far.
I pushed myself up from the bed to look at the reflective metal in the open sonic shower.
A black tattoo-like serpent, the totem symbol of my former military unit, extended from the side of my neck, confirming that the activation of the radiation shield.
Satisfied, I took to the chair and strapped myself securely to the chair and stared out of the porthole.
*THUD*
A shudder rocked through the transport vessel while I watch the aero-bridge released the clamp from the airlock and retracted into the gateway.
"All crew, prepare for departure. Secure all decks."
The vessel moved past the gateway and began a slow turn towards the set trajectory in the darkness. I soaked in the final sight of the dreadful penal space station, which had been my home for twelve galactic months. Then the view disappeared slowly, moving into deep interstellar space.
Small vibrations reverberated through the cell as the vessel engines fired up, creating an even wider distance between the space station and it.
Nothing but the pitch black of space greeted us.
"Engaging Interstellar drives in 3…" an automated announcement echoed across.
"2…"
[Radiation signals increasing]
[Beta radiation detected]
My optic implant warned me through a sea of red words flooding my vision.
"1."
A bright bluish light glowed from a distance, illuminating my cell.
*GRRRRUMMM*
The interstellar engines roared into full power as the vessel zoomed right ahead.
From the blackness, the side of a bright puddle-like worm hole embraced its tendrils around the vessel, pulling it into the full radiated embrace at full speed, jerking me around with the straps on.
Damn primitive technology. Haven't they heard of dark matter stabilisers to smooth the ride into wormholes?
[Above average Beta and Gamma radiation detected]
[Atomites commencing repairs to bio cellular levels of the cornea]
[Radiation shields holding at 100%]
A light green flashed over my vision as the atomites flooded into the cornea to repair or replace my corneal cells lost to radiation, while I wondered if the rest felt the effects yet.
I could still see, but everything looked like a soothing green now.
The silence is eerie. No one said a thing since we entered the wormhole. The cochlear implant adjusted the receiver to screen out the background noise with a click.
"BLETCH BLARG!"
Nothing like the sudden sound of someone retching his guts out next door, thumping my ear drum.
The sound of gagging soon transformed into an orchestra of retching, groans, and whimpering from the other fellow prisoners.
Colourful visual effects of my optical implants did a dancing colouring of the cubicles where the noises originated on the projected layout.