A Quiet Choice
By Thomas X Veil
Four strangers share a holding cell under faction control. As fear, paranoia, and hidden motives surface, the psychological threat inside the cage eclipses the guards beyond it, turning confinement into a study of suspicion and survival.
Genre: Darkly Comic Speculative Fiction
Home > Thomas Veil > Rosecell
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Beneath the polite bustle, Rosehaven’s small cells and secure offices do the silent work of the factions.
*****
I’ve never been in this one before, and that’s saying something. I’ve been in a lot. A bit of a klepto, me, and to be perfectly honest (hee hee) I’m not that good at it.
This one’s too fuckin’ bright for my liking. I’m on my own, and there’s no chance of me being able to get a bit of kip, even though I could lie down on the bench if it wasn’t bolted to the wall. If I could rein in the habit a bit, I might put some weight on. Right now, I’d kill for a bit of padding on my arse; this bench is brutal.
And cos it’s bright, it looks new, but the subtle smells of piss and bleach, and all the graffiti on the walls tell a different story.
Some surprisingly poetic crap there. How it got there’s anyone’s guess; cos they’re supposed to take any sharps off you before you come in and it’s not like they hand out felt pens or anything to show your creative side while you’re waiting for the man. Maybe the staff do it on their breaks. Make the place feel homier. Or scare the shit out of the newbies. The guys watching the CCTV’ll know.
The hatch’s opening.
God, that sound makes your teeth ache. Like metal screaming down metal. What a nightmare.
Uh-oh, the door’s opening now.
God almighty, what’s she doing in here? She should be shopping for hubby’s health-conscious dinner at the local organic food store. What do they call it again? Oh yeah, Organic Heaven. Right on the High Street. Never been in myself.
A bit overdressed for here, though. Nice black skirt, a little too tight. Bit on the curvy side, wouldn’t say no, though. I bet these heels’re killing her. They’ll be off in a minute. I might be able to get something worthwhile out of her, though.
“Hello. How’re you doing? You OK, love?”
She fiddles with her long, curly auburn hair. Takes it out of its ponytail, flounces it up a bit, smooths it down again, and then puts it back in its scrunchie.
“Hello”
“I bet you’ve never been somewhere like this before, have you? If I can help you with anything, you just let me know. I’ve a bit of experience with these things. My name’s White. Shifty White, they call me. Nice to meet you.”
“Hello Mr. White. I’m Crystal. Crystal Daniels. I shouldn’t even be here. I haven’t done anything wrong. I think there’s been a terrible mistake, and I expect someone will be along soon to sort it out, get me released and have the officer that brought me in charged.”
“Sometimes these Heritage Front officers can be a bit keen. I swear some of them’re on commission. He he.”
“It certainly seemed like that earlier.”
And just like that, she turns away and starts to cry.
The air pressure changes again as the inspection hatch scrapes open, followed quickly by the door.
This is what wet dreams and porn films are made of, being stuck in a small cell with two women. This one is an absolute fuckin’ goddess! Much taller than me (not that that would be difficult) and the way she walks! She almost defies gravity, as if she’s floating. She’s magnetic, a high-class piece of stuff. Straight back, legs up to her armpits, jet black hair and pale white skin. And eyes. Blue eyes that are looking right at me.
Don’t look away, don’t look away.
“Hello. I think there’s been another mistake.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Her voice, just like her gaze. Direct. Clear. Cool.
“Crystal here was just telling me that she’d been brought in by mistake, and I guess that you have too?” I try for a smile, but I know I’m struggling to hold eye contact. Makes me look even shiftier.
“My name’s Shifty, by the way.”
“That is the case, Mr. Shifty. I’m sorry to hear you’re in the same situation, Crystal.”
The sapphire on her ring flashes under the strip light, a sudden wink of blue in the glare. She smoothes down her dark, loose clothes before sitting delicately on the edge of a bench, wrinkling her nose.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
She bows her head and mutters something. A prayer, by the sounds of it.
The Heritage Front wouldn’t like that.
The scraping and creaking repeat. How many people can they fit in here?
What the fuck have we got here? Mr Grey?
An impossibly fat bloke strides in like he owns the place. Grey hair, grey eyes, grey moustache. Not the least bit embarrassed. Wears his weight like a warning. Go on, say something.
He’s been in a lot of trouble before. It could be the group of scars on his chin, the arrogant walk or his look of utter disdain. I’ll have to watch him.
The girls barely look up. Like he isn’t worth it. No one’s batted an eye. What am I missing?
“Liu,” he says, quiet as a mouse. “I’m Miller Liu.”
“I’m Shifty White,” I tell him. “As I said to the ladies here, if I can help, just let me know. Sad to say, I know the drill.”
He just totally fuckin’ ignores me, sits down, bows his head, and shuts his eyes. Cunt.
But I can’t keep my eyes off her. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. ‘The score of a lifetime.’ If I can get her talking, really talking, that’s not just my fine paid off. That’s a holiday. Say something, you idiot.
Enjoying these stories? Try the book.
She’s sitting closer to me than anyone else.
“I’m Shifty. What do I call you?”
“You may call me Anar.”
“That’s a beautiful name. I’ve never heard it before. You from around here?”
“Not originally. I travel a lot.” Direct as ever. “I’m Kazakh. And Anar means pomegranate, right? That fruit with all the red jelly and seeds inside?”
“That’s right.” I say, smiling. “What’s Kazakh like?”
“The people are Kazakh. The place is Khazakstan. It’s very big, very rich… but I think not very exciting.”
“Well, you’ve found a bit of excitement today, don’t you think, Anar?”
“It’s definitely different, that’s true, Mr Shifty. Heritage Front are so unreliable.”
“Mm. Please just call me Shifty.”
“That doesn’t seem respectful. But if you insist. What brings you here today, Shifty?”
They’re saying I nicked a briefcase.” I put on my best wounded-innocent face, the one that usually gets a fine, not a stay inside. “It was at the station. Just sitting there. Course I was going to take it to the lost-and-found. What else was I supposed to do? Then, this guy screams blue murder, and before you know it, they’re slapping the cuffs on me.” I shake my head, letting the injustice of it all hang in the air for a second. “For trying to do the right thing. But no one believes me.”
“I believe you, Shifty.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time, Anar. Thank you. Anyway, they brought me in first thing this morning, and I’ve been stuck here all on my lonesome until Crystal came in just before you. It’s so good to talk. I go a bit funny in the head when I’m on my own for too long.”
Just then, Crystal starts wittering to Miller Liu, probably since he was the one sitting closest to her.
She just keeps talking, like she’d learned it for a school play.
“I was down the beach working,” she says, “taking pictures for my latest project. You know the kind of thing. Birds, sea, sunset, kids playing; the usual crowd-pleasers. Anyway, I was going about my business when a Heritage Front patrol called me over.”
Anar raises her head.
“Of course I went,” Crystal continues. “You have to, don’t you?”
Personally, I always run. I’ll make it one day.
“I always like to do my civic duty. But then they promptly arrested me.”
I know this bird; used to teach cons how to tell a story. I’d give Crystal her card if I had one on me. Jesus, she still won’t stop. But they pay me to get them to say as much as I can, so come on. Keep it up.
“And if that’s not bad enough, they’ve confiscated my camera, which is worth a small fortune. And more than that, it was my late husband’s.”
Is that it? I hope you’re listening, guys. You should get a good amount for the gear. I’d better get my cut this time, I can tell you.
She keeps fiddling with her skirt. Right at the hip. Where they wear those faction badges. The recording ones.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Is that why she’s here? Is hers still on? They pay me to be the only plant in the room. If she’s recording too, my take gets cut in half. Or I get nothing. Or they find out I’m not the only ear in here.
Be cool, Shifty. Gotta find out… Hell’s teeth, there’s more!
Crystal continues. “Anyway, it was probably just as well I went. I’ve never been a fast runner, so I’d never have gotten away. They interrogated me about last Saturday too.”
While she’s speaking, I think Miller Liu has fallen asleep, chin slumped on his chest, but at the mention of Saturday, he stands up sharply, his face flushing red.
“Who are you? Why are you asking me about last Saturday? Do you even know who I am? Keep that up and I’ll set my lawyer on you, and by God, you won’t know what’s hit you. He’s the best in the land!”
Anar stands, calm as ever. “Mr Liu, please. Don’t get too excited. Look at the colour of your face. You might become ill.”
Crystal steps beside her. “She’s right, Miller. Take it easy. I don’t know what I said to upset you so much, but come on, sit down. Take deep breaths. That should help.”
“What the hell do any of you know?” he snaps. “Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, that’s all anyone wants to talk to me about. My wife, my lover, my business partner, The Heritage Front. What the fuck is so special about Saturday?”
“Come on, mate,” I say. “Take it easy or you’ll get them all excited and you’ll get taken. Sit down, shut up, and take deep breaths, as Crystal said. We don’t want you fuckin dying on us. Isn’t that right, girls?”
They both nod.
Miller Liu sits back down. Deep breath. Then another. Long, deliberate, almost forced. Dragging in and out.
Alright, he’s the weak spot. Saturday. I just need to poke him again.
“Okay, let’s kill some time,” I say, putting on my cheerful face for once. “You know what? Let’s all say what happened to us. It’s a good way of practicing getting your story straight before questioning. Crystal, love, you look like you’ve got a tale to tell.”
This should work. Get them talking. The more they say, the better my payout.
“Thanks for doing this, Mr. Shifty,” says Anar.
“It’s just like what I was telling Miller,” she says. “I was out at the beach taking photos for a new project I’m working on.”
Anar looks up. “Oh, you’re a photographer.”
“Yes, and the same thing happened. A patrol called me over, and before I could even explain, they’d hauled me in.”
“What?” I gasp. “Just like that? No explanation?” Inflate the injustice just to keep her talking.
“Well, no. I’m an upstanding citizen! I could’ve taken off with the guys I’d been speaking to in the inflatable dinghy, but I didn’t.”
“And they didn’t chase them?” My bullshit detection meter is up in the red.
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