I heard their footsteps along the concrete hall and new something was wrong. It wasn't feeding time, or lights out. They had only patrolled the halls once since I was sent here and that was only a day after an attempted escape. Few creatures managed to escape from here, however often they might attempt it. As awful as Kragosa was, its design was effective and its management knowledgeable about its prisoners.
The heavy footfalls stopped and I could see through the dimness that the dark shapes β prison guards β had stopped in front of my cell. For a brief moment I entertained hope that I was being reassigned, that whatever bureaucracy in charge had finally realized Kragosa was never meant for human prisoners. I rushed to the bars of my cell door and squinted in the near darkness to see the faces of the guards. They were both Kragosi, each standing over seven feet tall and four feet wide with faces contorted and distended like swine. They were garbed sparingly and carried spears, which one pointed at me now through the bars. I knew they could shock quite painfully.
"Stand back," one grunted down at me, his words slurred and guttural. I was surprised he spoke any Common at all. Most guards don't. I took a long step away from the bars, shielding my nakedness from the glowing point of his spear and watched with anticipation as the other guard turned the heavy crank on the wall opposite and the bars of my cell retracted into the wall.
"Forward!" rumbled the first guard and I took a step forward, my hands held steadily at my sides in spite of my shaking. Something was about to go very right or very wrong, but either way resisting orders in Kragosa was a good way to get beaten, electrocuted and worse. The guard shouted something else at me, something I didn't understand until the other one spun me at the shoulder and held me arms roughly behind my back, cuffing them in place. I didn't see the point since only a complete idiot would try to run from Kragosa. But then I suppose escape attempts had occurred before.
I felt the strain in my arms and shoulders as they marched me down the long, stone hallway past other cells. Few others in this block were occupied since most prisoners required more security precautions than I did. In spite of the smell, the air in this corridor felt fresher, colder against my exposed skin. The only other time I was allowed free from my cell was to work in the quarry several nights a week, and the thickened calluses on the soles of my feet from the sharp rocks there protected me as I stumbled ahead, the guards following closely behind.
We stopped several times at the entrance to each block so that one of the guards could crank open the entrance. I couldn't speak for any of the other prisoners in Kragosa but such low-tech security had certainly deterred me from trying to escape. Even the guards were having trouble turning the heavy, partially rusted cranks. My mind must have wandered because the guard immediately behind me shoved me forward roughly and I almost lost balance. I hurried to keep just ahead of them.
I had never been through this block before and there were no cells in this section of corridor. There were no windows or doors at all, save for a large red portal at the far end. I felt my apprehension swell and a wave of nervous nausea course through me, making me light-headed. This wasn't any way in or out of Kragosa I was aware of, and was either the office of the warden or something much worse. Whisperings from passing prisoners about torture rooms or death furnaces flashed through my mind unbidden. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. We stopped as the guard turned the crank at the door.
In the dim, blue glare of the room was the largest Kragosi I had ever seen. He was almost a foot taller and a full foot wider than the guards that had brought me here. He was spread out across a hard, wide bench wearing nothing but a small bit of soiled cloth across his privates. His piggish scowl split into a worrisome grin as the two guards shoved me closer. They stood in the open doorway, as effective a barricade as the closed door would have been.
"Jayn bek Sherop," his Common was fluent but his tone was husky, wheezing. "Do you know who I am?"
"Brogn. The warden," I answered, my voice hardly wavering at all.
He grinned wider and then coughed, taking a moment to catch his breath. "Very good, very good. Do you know why you're here, Jayn bek Sherop?"
I watched his sharp, hooded eyes examine my body shamelessly and felt the strain in my shoulders and I fought against my bonds to cover my nakedness. "I was hoping it was because I was sent here by mistake. That you know I'm not supposed to be here," I said.
He continued to examine my body, not bothering to look at my face or eyes. "You broke the law, did you not?"
"Yes, but β"
"You're a debtor. You can't pay, you go to prison. Correct?" His voice was too soft.
"Yes, but -"
He leaned forward then, reaching one stumpy hand under the cloth covering his lap. "You confuse the matter, girl. Do you think it matters to me who is sent here and why? I have better things to do. Like watching you." As he said it he gestured behind him to the blue glow from the wall to what looked like at least thirty com-screens, all displaying images of prison cells, alternating every few seconds. The memory of seeing a little black box in the corner of my cell and wondering if it was a camera when I arrived eight months ago jumped forward in my mind and my knees trembled. He'd been watching me all this time.