Prison Planet (THE RIM CONFEDERACY Book 3) Read Free Page B

of Olbia, Nusayr al-Rashid who in fact, yes, is a cousin of my own. As you all know, he was charged and indicted with the crimes of Treason, and his trial was almost a month long. Suffice it to say, he and his cabinet group were all found guilty and are in transport as I speak to Halberd, the RIM prison planet, where he will serve out his sentence of twenty-five years for his crimes. As you were all made aware of the depth of this treason, his attempt to secede Olbia away from the Caliphate realm and form his own member planet of the RIM Confederacy, I do not have to fill you in. As you may imagine, this has strained relationships among we Nerian Royals as this young man was a member of our family ... and now he will do his time on Halberd,” the Vice Chair finished and sat heavily into his chair.
    “The bad ideas of youth,” the Chairman said and slapped a gavel down on one of the blocks in front of him.
    “We will take a half-hour break and then resume with the Faraway-Leudi trade dispute item. But please, only thirty minutes, members,” he said, and the room slowly emptied.
    The Baroness came over to the Chairman and spoke directly to him in a quiet voice.
    “There is still the matter of the Ikarian virus, Chairman—something at this point we do not know anything about—have you as yet thought about that and what the import of such a longevity virus like this would do to the RIM Confederacy? Imagine offering up double or triple your life expectancy by swallowing a pill ...”
    She pointed at him and then added, ”And this is something that the Barony will control. One might be wise to remember that ... And that, perhaps, there will be one way to meet the ends one hunts for that is hidden ‘til exposed,” she said cryptically, turned on her heel, nodded to the admiral who sat only a few feet away, and then strode off to leave the Council chamber room.
     
    #
    The barrier door for the cellblock slammed shut with its normal jarring clang, and the sound was ignored, as usual, by all within its reach except for the tall new convict in the orange jumpsuit. The Max Penitentiary guard, a corporal, pointed the much taller felon and tried to ease him along the corridor. They moved away from the central corridor coming out from the only access point to this second-floor cellblock. The taller man, the new convict in his orange temporary jumpsuit, was still dogging it, slowing down their progress between the central processing point for the prison and where he was going to be celled for now at least. He said nothing but he looked at everything, ignoring the rest of the convicts they passed who were involved in cleaning or talking among themselves. He soaked up what could be seen, could be felt as he ran his hands along the walls and doors, or could be smelled as he often inhaled a few times in quick succession as they slowly made their way outward. The guard was frustrated, but it was like a monkey trying to move a giraffe along. He just didn’t have the leverage to get the trip done quickly.
    Moving finally to the end of the long cellblock corridor, leaving behind cells and their occupants, lounge rooms and their occupants, and even kitchenettes with some felons still eating their meals, the two climbed the stairs to the first tier and stopped at the first cell.
    “Yours, uh, Count. ’Til Central Booking works out something else ... but for now, you live here,” the guard said. He looked up to the prisoner towering more than six and a half feet above him and smiled.
    “Looks a little less than what a Royal might be used to, but it’s home, uh, Count,” he said as he tried to somewhat lessen what he was sure would be a shock to the Caliphate Royal who had been on Halberd less than a day. But it was not a shock at all.
    “Looks fine, thank you, Corporal,” the Royal said with a tone of honesty in his voice. “I am in your debt for granting me such a fine cell—even on what you have indicated would be a temporary