Chapter 5
Chapter five
Five minutes until his shift—his final shift—was over.
Robbie Sinclair went through the motions, checking in with each gate guardian and going over the fresh statistics for each ward.
Caravan was a thoroughly modern prison, but it still emphasized human contact over purely machined policing, so every ward had four rotating guards to watch over their prisoner population, averaging about forty prisoners per ward.
It wasn’t perfect, but it kept the inmates happier when they could see that they weren’t being forgotten by the people in charge, and it was a decent deterrent against violence—better than leaving a mech to watch over things.
And when violence did break out, well … that was kind of what Robbie was for.
He was the captain of the special squad, called in when things got really rough.
Not that they’d reached that level more than a half dozen times over the past three months.
Caravan’s commanding officer had a handle on things.
He let the machine scan his implant and bid it farewell as he signed off, then headed for the door. If he was lucky, he’d be able to grab Wyl and get to the transport ship before—
“Officer Sinclair!”
Busted. He turned back toward his commander’s office. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Come here, please. I need to speak with you.”
Damn it. So much for a low-key exit. Robbie followed her into the office, the room plain and functional, just like its denizen. That wasn’t really fair to retired Colonel, now Head Warden Grace Grave, whose parents had been practically prophetic in their naming of her.
She was more than functional, she was a genuinely good leader, concerned for her employees and inmates alike and constantly working to improve prison stats on mental health, training, and rates of recidivism.
Caravan was a max-security penitentiary, but not all of the prisoners there were lifers.
In fact, the very concept of life in prison was outdated now, considering that Regen could keep people healthy for centuries.
But a century’s span of time wasn’t considered to be unjust when it came to punishing the worst crimes, and so people stayed in for longer periods than ever.
If they were ever to rejoin society with any semblance of normalcy, continual training and education were needed.
Grace was a pioneer in moving the prison system beyond punishment and into genuine rehabilitation for the especially aged prisoner.
Her concern now was endearing, but Robbie preferred it when it was directed toward others. Still, he sat down across from her and inclined his head. “Ma’am.”
She looked at him—yes, gravely; Wyl joked about it far too much—and folded her hands.
“When you told me you had put in for a transfer, I didn’t think twice about signing off on it, because of your excellent record here, despite the brevity of your service.
I wondered why the location of the transfer was under blackout protocols, but I know you have an extensive record and assumed it pertained to something classified in your past. However, your transport ship has arrived, and once I recognized the name on it, I knew something had to be wrong.
” She leaned forward, dark eyes swallowing the light. “Why are you transferring to Redstone?”
Robbie sighed. “Ma’am—”
“Is it blackmail of some kind? Or some sort of delayed punishment against you? Because there are steps that can be taken, very private and cohesive steps, to ensure that you don’t get taken advantage of for something you did in the past, whether it was on the books or not.
I won’t have anyone in my prison being abused in any way. ”
“Grace.” It was the first time he had ever used her first name and was enough to stop her in her tracks.
Grace was accustomed to formality from all her employees, and Robbie had always been more than happy to give her that before.
Right now, though, he didn’t have time for it.
“I promise you, I’m not being coerced into doing this. ”
Her narrow lips thinned even further. “Redstone is considered a punishment duty for Alliance guards sent there. I know it, and although I dislike the precedent that sets and the mentality it encourages toward the inmates, without consideration from the upper echelons, there’s nothing I can do to change it.
I’m quite certain, however, that you haven’t done anything that would merit this sort of contemptuous move. ”
“It’s a private matter.”
“There are no private matters when it comes to the professional setting.”
“Except there obviously are, or Redstone wouldn’t be used as a punishment for guards,” Robbie pointed out. Grace huffed.
“Don’t mince words with me, Robbie. Are you telling me that you can’t tell me why you’re being sent to Redstone?”
“Yes, Warden.
“And yet I see here”—she looked down at her tab, purely for show because Robbie was certain she had already memorized whatever she was looking at— “that you’ve also made a request for spousal accompaniment.”
Uh-oh. Robbie kept his expression impassive, but he didn’t like the way this was going. “Yes, I have.”
“You’re aware that there are practically no extracurricular options for Redstone spouses.
In fact, very few employee spouses are given permission to travel to Redstone due to its very poor accommodation of them.
Spouses have literally been driven to injure themselves while confined there, and the rate of divorce, coming out of a stint on Redstone, is triple the Alliance average. ”
“I’m aware, ma’am.”
“And yet you persist in wanting to bring Wyl with you?” She shook her head. “I expected better of you, Robbie.”
Robbie didn’t expect her disapproval to hit him quite so hard.
He already had a mission; working for Grace had always been secondary to that.
But she was a good commander and a fair person.
Moreover, she was completely charmed by Wyl, just like almost everyone else who met him.
“I gave him the option to stay here or go to another planet, ma’am. He refused.”
“Of course, he refused; you’re practically newlyweds.
” Robbie shifted in his seat, but she waved his objection away.
“Anything under fifty years is practically newlyweds. He adores you; of course, he wants to be with you. But Redstone isn’t conducive to happiness, Robbie. I’m worried about you. Both of you.”
“I appreciate that.” And he did, very much. “But Wyl and I are good. He won’t hesitate to tell me if he wants to leave; you know him well enough for that. In the meantime, he’s bringing plenty of things to occupy himself with while we’re there. It’s only for six months, ma’am. We’ll be all right.”
“I can see you’re determined to do this.” Grace sighed faintly but just loud enough that Robbie could pick it up. “And to keep your reasons to yourself.”
“Ma’am.”
“Very well, then. I’ve approved the transfer as well as a promotion for you. The very least I can do is ensure that you’re choosing your own shifts. You’ll be third in command after the warden and his lieutenant once your probationary period is over.”
Well, that was … a surprise. Hopefully they wouldn’t be there that long, but still. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“I also increased your weight allotment to make sure that Wyl can have his tools. Redstone wreaks havoc on electronics and mechanicals, but if anyone can engineer something to make it work in that place, it’s your husband.”
“That’s very generous.”
Grace shrugged and looked down. “I thought the situation merited a big gesture. I rarely have the chance to make them.”
Robbie considered her, this staunchly plain woman in an age when you could be as beautiful as you wanted, her lovely red hair kept short, her uniform pressed and clean, no jewelry, no mourning marks.
He knew she’d been married once, and that her wife had left her several years ago.
No children or other close family that he knew of.
Garrett would have to meet her, Robbie decided. He’d adopt her in an instant. “Thank you. You’ve been one of the best commanders of my entire career. It’s been an honor to serve under you.”
Grace smiled a little. “Careful, your marine is showing.” Most of the prison guards were civilians, highly trained but without a military background. It could be a sticking point in interpersonal relations, each group with chips on their shoulders when it came to capability.
“I mean every word.”
“Well, then.” She stood up and offered Robbie her hand. “The honor is all mine.” They shook firmly. “You have a little under six hours to get everything onto that transport, Robbie. I suggest you go and start motivating your husband.”
“I’ll do that.” He turned and left and resolutely didn’t let himself think about might-have-beens.
It wasn’t that Robbie loved being a prison guard, but he liked having purpose, order, a certain structure to his life.
Since retiring—again—from the military, he’d lost a lot of that.
Being here, if only briefly, had felt like slipping into his old uniform again. It was comfortable and comforting.
He entered his private quarters and heard a loud, “Fucking damn it!” from the back room and grinned. Then again, comfort was relative.
“You okay?” he called out as he set aside his weapons, which were sucked from the entryway table into the wall and secured.
“Fine,” Wyl called out irritably. “I just cut my finger on this stupid damn lump of iron. Raw iron, for fuck’s sake. Do you know how hard it is to match these resonant frequencies? Redstone better be exactly as advertised, or my system isn’t going to work, and then I’ll be pissed.”
“Your communications system?” Robbie unfastened his jacket as he headed into the back. There was Wyl, perched on his work stool and wrestling with a chunk of iron the size of his head.