Chapter 1

The object drifted silently on its course through the starry, silent vacuum of the cosmos. It was a metallic hulk of gray panels and oversized thrusters out its south end.

It was unceremoniously nicknamed a moo because it was shaped like a huge milk carton, the windows of the bridge forming the “tabs.” The ship was nothing fancy and it didn't need to be. It was a vessel for moving freight or prisoners. I was of the latter. I sat in my seat, a guard in beige camo on either side. They looked like turkey buzzards and I was roadkill. None of us wore space suits, for they were not needed in the pressurized hull of the moo.

I knew where I was headed. It was a planetoid on the far end of the Milky Way. It had been terraformed many years ago. I'm sure it was an interesting process and I'm sure it involved a ton of scientific jargon, but I'm not Isaac Asimov or the other guy that wrote about threesomes on the moon; I therefore will not attempt to give an exposition of the process.

It had been made into human worthy habitation and a penal colony. Its name was Grifter's End & had become the rug beneath which society swept its dirt.

The colony on the planetoid, just a tad bigger than Earth's moon,was the solution to that glaring issue political devotees on all sides could agree needed fixing: prison overcrowding. This was where low level offenders were dumped,your prostitutes, druggies, and petty thieves. Your big bads like kiddy touchers, serial killers and rapists stayed on Earth. Well in time the prostitutes did what they did best and the men did what they did best and soon everyone was breeding like rabbits and an entirely self-sufficient society had been carved out.

The “moo” touched down, shaking us all up and for that brief instant I had something in common with Elvis Presley. I straightened my suit and tie as the hull depressurized with a pwoooshhh sound. The ramp lowered with an annoying mechanical groan and I was escorted off the hunk of junk and onto the platform and subsequently to the care of two more guards wearing the same uniform as those on the ship except with the addition of gas masks and red berets. The gas masks were for pure intimidation factor. The air on this rock pile was breathable.

“Do you know what brings you here?” One asked in a brusque tone.

“Of course I do.”

“Let's move it along then.”

My former escorts were handed a clip board with a bunch of papers they hastily signed off on as though I were a parcel they had just uncaringly dropped off. Once the ship had lifted off and pierced the night sky I was handed a tablet with a list of instructions staring at me from the glowing screen.

The gates to the colony proper flung open and I walked inside, swallowed by the neon boa that this place was.

Under the watchful eyes of the guards and their bullpup rifles I followed each instruction carefully. I was documented, checked in and given my assigned job, and the address to my apartment where I'd live on this penal colony space rock.

Given the low level nature of my criminal offenses I got a cushy but tedious job as quality control in the factory that towered like a colossus over the low rise cityscape. This colony was designed for total self-sufficiency. Food, metal hardware, software, light bulbs all of it was manufactured right here. The most reformed of this place's denizens even owned farms away from the congestion of this city. Surplus was exported off world back to Earth. Every few months or so a ship would arrive from the Mother Planet bearing care packages of sorts. These contained the few things we wouldn't have access to here. It gives us toilet paper to wipe our butts and the Earthlings some superficial peace of mind about shooting us into space. A win win situation don't you see?

There was well constructed social order about the colony too. You had your low level menial workers like me, the people in the factories and the farmers and stuff. Then you had the shop owners and bartenders, the staff like the stuffy suit who checked me in. Then above all of us were the guards; their iron grip had loosened over the years as the criminals reformed with the construction of the colony but they remained ever vigilant….up to a point.

They had a don't bother the bee approach to their policing. If you walked down the wrong alley and someone did shank you which was rare there'd be an investigation and the perp would be punished in some manner if caught the key word is IF.

The truth is this: what's the point of imprisoning a crook when he's already in prison? Basically everything short of open prostitution or mass riots got a blind eye turned toward it. If I had tobput it a simpler way I'd say the authorities at this point in the colony's history were mainly for decoration and making sure that the reformed stayed that way. If let's say some factory workers were gambling on their breaks not a problem it was free time. If on the other hand a bunch of the thieves that got sent here continued the practice they'd be dealt with.

My apartment was spartan and painted a very sterile white. That was fine. I'm a simple man. The lighting cast an ambient blue pall over the interior. I wasn't sure if this served a practical purpose like calming workers after a shift or if it was for pure aesthetics. I found the fridge fully stocked with locally sourced foodstuffs of all sorts. The living room had a couch with a light strip built into its bottom portion. There was a radio built into the wall for music from a selection of thumb drives housed in a little cubby next to the radio.

There was no T.V.. A cineplex played selected films on the weekends and that took care of visual entertainment; though as I learned later there were other forms of entertainment on this planetoid that people indulged in even they weren't supposed to.

The bedroom had a full wardrobe waiting for me in the closet. For a convicted criminal I had it pretty good. A box on a night stand contained other things for me including a list of eating places and something that looked like squished pennies,musk coins the physical equivalent to the USA's universal cryptocurrency. There was another item that made both my eyebrows raise in bemusement.

There was a small pistol in the box. The citizens had no rights to firearms (though I expected a black market existed). So what was this doing here?. Oh well, a problem for another day.

I picked out a pajama set from my closet and showered. I placed the mysterious gun under my pillow. The bedroom had no windows. And was bathed in the soothing illumination of the holographic clock projected onto the wall. The colony ran on civilian Earthtime. 7:00 PM.

I would be working day shifts for the rest of my life here so I shut my eyes and didn't open them until I was brought out of slumber by the sound of demonic hornets buzzing into my room. The alarm was automatically set for Six in the morning.