Four
“Some they killed,” Debhu said, holding the wet cloth to the side of Jan’s head, “but only if they fought too hard and it was dangerous to capture them. They wanted prisoners. The rest of us were outnumbered, clubbed down. Does that feel any better?”
“Feels like my skull is crumbling inside.”
“No, it’s just bruising. They’ve sewn up the cuts. No broken ribs, the doctor said. They want us in good shape for public display when we get to Earth. They can’t have taken many prisoners before they captured us. It hasn’t been that kind of a war.” He hesitated a second, then spoke more quietly. “Do you have a record? I mean, is there any reason they would like to know who you were, to identify you?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’ve never been to Earth, or in direct contact with earthies before. They may have records on me, I can’t be sure. But they took retinal photographs of us all. You too, while you were unconscious.”
Jan nodded, then closed his eyes briefly at the pain that followed the movement.
“I think they will be very happy when they identify me,” he said. “I doubt if I will be.”
The pattern made by the small blood vessels inside the eye is far more individual than any fingerprint. It can be neither forged nor altered. Everyone on Earth had this pattern recorded at birth and at regular intervals thereafter. Given a retinal print a computer could sort through these billions of photographs in a few moments. They would come up with his. Along with his identity and his criminal record. They would be very glad to discover these interesting facts.
“Not that it’s worth worrying about anyway,” Debhu said, leaning back against the metal wall of their prison. “We’re all for the knackers in any case. Probably a show trial first to entertain the proles. Then — who knows what. Nothing good I’m sure. An easy death is the best we can hope for.”
“No it’s not,” Jan said, ignoring the pain, forcing himself to sit up. “We are going to have to escape.”
Debhu smiled sympathetically. “Yes. I suppose we ought to.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Jan said angrily. “I know what I’m saying. I’m from Earth, which is more than anyone else in this room can say. I know how these people think and work. We’re dead anyway so we have nothing to lose by trying.”
“If we break out of here we have no way of taking over the ship. Not from armed men.”
“That’s the answer then. We don’t do a thing now. We wait until we’ve landed. There will be guards of course, but the rest of the crew will be at their stations. We won’t have to take over the ship. Just get away from it.”
“Simple enough.” Debhu smiled. “I’m with you so far. Now do you have any suggestions how we get out of this locked cell?”
“Plenty. I want you to move around quietly among the others. I want everything they have. Watches, tools, coins, anything. Whatever they were left with. When I see what they have I’ll tell you how we are going to get out of here.”
Jan did not want to explain, to give them any false hopes. He rested and drank some water, looking around the bare metal room in which they had been imprisoned.
There were some thin mattresses scattered about on the hard plastic floor, a sink and toilet unit secured to one wall. A single barred door was set into the opposite wall. No spying devices were visible, but that did not necessarily mean that they weren’t there. He would take what precautions he could, hoping that their captors’ surveillance would be a casual one.
“How do they feed us?” Jan asked as Debhu dropped down beside him.
“They pass the food through that slide in the door. Thin disposable dishes, like that cup you have there. Nothing we can use for weapons.”
“I wasn’t thinking of that. What’s beyond the door?”
“Short length of hall. Then another locked door. Both doors are never opened at the same time.”
“Better and better. Is there a guard in that short stretch of hall?”
“Not that I’ve ever seen. No need for it. We’ve got some things for you from the men…”
“Don’t show me yet. Just tell me.”
“Junk for the most part. Coins, keys, a nail clipper, a small computer.”
“That’s the best news yet. Any watches?”
“No. They took them away. The computer was an accident. Built into a pendant the man wore around his neck. Now can you tell me what this is all about?”
“It’s about getting out of here. I think we’ll have enough to build what I need. Microelectronic circuitry. That’s my field — or it was until they arrested me. Do the lights ever go out in here?”
“Not yet they haven’t.”
“Then we’ll do it the bard way. I’ll want all of the stuff you have collected. I’ll pass back anything I can’t use. If they are taking us to Earth — how long will the trip take?”
“About two weeks subjective time. Half again as much in spatial time.”
“Good. I’ll go slow and get it right.”
The lights were never turned off or lowered. Jan doubted if the prisoners were being watched more than casually — he had to believe that or there was no point in his even making an attempt at escape. He had sorted through the items in his pockets by touch and separated out the keys. Then, after he had lain down, he spread them out on the floor in the shelter of his body and that of the man beside him. They were small plastic tubes, in different colors, with a ring at one end. To unlock a door they were simply inserted in the hole in the face of the lock mechanism. They were so commonplace and ubiquitous, people were so used to them that they never stopped to think about tbe mechanism inside. Surely most people probably never even realized that there was anything contained within the apparently solid plastic.
Jan knew that there was a complex mechanism sealed inside the tubes. A microwave receiver, a microchip processor and a tiny battery. When the key was inserted in the lock a signal was transmitted by the lock circuits that activated the concealed key mechanism. A coded signal was sent by the key in return. If it was the correct one the door was unlocked, while at the same time a brief but intense magnetic field recharged the battery. However if the wrong key was inserted and an incorrect code was returned not only did the lock not open, but the mechanism completely discharged the battery, rendering the key useless.
Using the blade of the nail-clipper, Jan shaved away carefully at the plastic. He was certain now that the job could be done. He had tools, circuitry and power supply. With patience — and skill — he should be able to build what he needed. Microchip technology was so commonplace that people tended to forget that these infinitesimal micro-processors were built into every single mechanical device that they possessed. Jan was well aware of this, since he had designed many circuits of this kind. He knew equally well how to alter them to his own advantage.
One of the keys was scavenged for its battery alone. The two filament-thin wires from it were used to probe the circuitry of a second key. To short out and alter the connections there. The key’s transmitter became a receiver, a probe to divine the secret of the lock on the cell door. When it had been constructed to the best of his ability, Jan spoke to Debhu.