LD-212Chesapeake “Cheshire” Miskaya
Age 38, height 5’9, weight 143lb
Conviction: Party to kidnapping
Behavioural: compliant, high-controlling
Medical: no complications, integration successful
Something was up at Asphodel and the prisoners knew it. The presence of a man ––an actual physical male presumably with all the parts that entailed–– caused a bit of agitation. The miners were the first to see him, watching them from a distance on the chain link walkways above the pits, taking notes from afar. But because of his work in the abandoned section, which took him through the northern cell block, others had been able to glimpse him ––travelling escorted by guards when the yard was empty during lockdown.
Rumours did not cease for a moment. During a late evening count, with everyone faced to the walls and waiting for the guards to come check them, Zak and Patch were side by side and surrounded by furtive whispers.
“Greta got diverted this week,” they were saying, “she’s gotta be the third one by now.”
“Did she tell you what happened?” Patch asked in a hush.
“I dunno, she was weird about it. Sounded like she didn’t know what he was having her do. All she said was that the guy really fucked up the V92, it didn’t look right at all.”
“What does that mean?” Zak wondered aloud.
“Hey, no chit chat!” the nearby guard stormed over, skipping several from their count line. “If I hear you speak again you’re going to solitary.”
Zak and Patch bowed their heads, keeping their mouths shut. But when the guard had moved on, Zak gave a very dramatic roll of her eyes, which caused Patch to laugh. Her heart leapt, and she sharply looked away. But she stole a glance again, seeing the other girl’s smile.
Once back in the cell, the girls began to strip down to their underwear and ready themselves for the lights-out. The three other cellmates kept to themselves at one end of the room, while Patch and Zak formed a pair, and both sides were happy to ignore the other’s existence ––it was more than could be said for some cells.
“I bet it’s nothing,” Patch said, reaching her arms up to the ceiling, stretching out her toned midriff.
Decidedly keeping her gaze straight ahead, Zak said, “what is?”
“That thing about Greta and the guy. He’s probably just refitting the kit. It is ancient.”
“God yeah,” Zak sighed, “the lag on turning is going to kill me one day. I bet they wouldn’t use this stuff in a real worksite.”
“We are a real worksite, Zak! How much stuff have we dug up over the years? We two probably power the whole empire!”
“Yeah, and the war. Not that they’ll thank us if we win. We probably won’t even know if we’ve won or lost.”
“The only new info we get is from new transfers. We probably could have asked—”
Patch’s smile faded as she caught herself, but it was clear who she was talking about. Zak scowled.
“What was it she said?” she asked, closing her eyes, “that we’re all scum?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Patch murmured.
“I was in a fight, you know. When I killed that guy. He could have hurt me good as well, so really it was self-defence! And the court said it wasn’t murder. ‘Voluntary manslaughter’ or whatever. But she,” Zak huffed, folding her arms, “she’s on a treason charge! If she supported the Demesne in the war then she might be responsible for hundreds of murders! What makes her think she’s so much better than us?”
“Hey, just drop it,” Patch said, giving a frown that made Zak’s heart stop. “We let our guard down, she used us. No point dwelling on it now.”
“It’s just––” Zak let out a heavy sigh, then relented. “Okay. Just, you know, let me check people out before we trust them? My alarm bells were ringing with her from the beginning.”
“Yeah, you’re good at sniffing out trouble! That’s why we need you, attack dog!”
Patch leant down and slapped Zak’s shoulder. Once again she forgot her own strength and sent the smaller girl falling down.
“Whoops, sorry!”
“I-it’s fine,” Zak said, scrambling up and feeling her face go red. “Just watch where you’re going with your hands, Patch! You’re too strong….”
“Nah, I’m just stupid,” the girl said with a chuckle, sitting down on the bedside, “can’t imagine how I’d survive without you.”
“You have Leonore….”
Patch closed her eyes, smiling, “ah, Leonore. I don’t deserve her either. Just glad we always nail our quota. It means I can give her and Tomei everything I can. We do have our hands full with the little one!”
“Yeah,” Zak rubbed her neck, “suppose we’ve all been busy.”
“Get so pent up too. I mean look at Leonore, she’s gorgeous! But we never get the time.”
“Ah…” Zak began rubbing her hands together, with a light skin of sweat forming on her palms. “You need… some help, right? With your needs….”
“Yeah.”
Zak closed her eyes and swallowed, as her heart began to flutter about in her chest. Then she suddenly took the seat beside Patch, brought herself in close, and accidentally brushed her knees against hers.
“L-let me take with Tomei for a bit. You know, during an off day when we’re not working. I can look after her, make sure she’s safe and you two can… can….”
Patch’s eyes lit up. “You’d do that?”
“For you, yeah.” Zak managed to smile. “I’d do anything for you.”
“Ah man, you’re the best!” Patch brought Zak into a strong armed hug, squeezing the breath out of her. “Leonore’s gonna be thrilled!”
As for Chione, who either stuck to her own block, or stayed over at Cheshire’s, no news came her way that wasn’t directly from her new ‘mommy’ or from Zoe Dee. The most she had heard was that this new man had arrived at the station, and that was a rare thing. For the most fleeting of moments, she thought he might be some representative from Kratia Prime. Someone had heard her call and come to deliver her from this living hell. But that hope was dashed as quickly as it arose.
The timing didn’t line up anyway. He arrived practically the same time she did. So if her letter had made its way home, she still had time to wait for a response. And she waited. And still nothing came.
When she next arrived at Cheshire’s candlelit lair, the mature woman was waiting for. She snapped taut a piece of cord. It made a rattling sound, and Chione took a step back no sooner than she had walked in. But Cheshire laughed, and let the wire loosen again.
“Ah it’s nothing like that,” she said, “this is a measuring tape, more or less.”
“That’s tape?” Chione asked.
“A substitute. The best you can get at Commissary. Come on, let me measure you.”
Though raising her brow, Chione knew it was best to indulge her and so stepped forward, raising her arms as to give access to her waist. Rover went over to keep watch at the door, while Melissa remained shadowed beneath the bunk bed. The small girl was always her intently. Cheshire wrapped the cord around Chione’s middle, and squinted at the notches on its grooved surface.
“Why are you doing this?” Chione asked.
“It’s always good to know,” the woman said with a tut. “My mother would measure us every three months. First to make sure we were growing, and then to make sure we kept small.”
“Well I’ve definitely gotten smaller. I’ve never been so hungry in my life…. Anyway, can you even get decent clothes at commissary? Apart from the odd jacket, no one wears anything around here. Nothing dignified anyway.”
“Aw, you don’t like showing off?”
“I just feel this uniform leaves little to the imagination,” Chione said, closing her eyes. “God, the last time I wore anything real was before I met that evil woman.”
Cheshire tittered.
“You’ll have to be more specific there.”
She brought the cord down, letting it expand along the circumference of Chione’s hips, and then let out a whistle.
“42 inches! Against such a svelte waist too. Isn’t she marvellous girls?”
Melissa looked shocked, but was so reverent of Cheshire’s words that she vigorously nodded. Rover just grunted an affirmative, but kept watch on the door per usual. Chione pressed her lips to a thin line, and felt the heat rise on her skin. But Cheshire was already wrapping the cord around one of her legs so it was much too late to protest.
“These legs are powerful too,” she remarked, “did you cycle much?”
“I… rode,” Chione muttered. “I don’t know if that contributed. And…,” she shut her eyes and lifted her head slightly as she insisted, “well I’ve never thought about my lower half much! It’s supposed to be under proper skirts most of the time.”
“Heh, that would be a travesty. But horse riding, I think I see it now. You must have been very active.”
“I was. My horse was called Voivode. I practiced riding nearly every day, and we had grassland for miles.”
Her throat thickened. The memory of cool wind along her face, flowing through her hair as she gripped her thighs into a saddle and rode on, came so strongly to her that in the dim light she could almost let it take her away from this deep, dark hole. But Voivode was dead. Even if she went back, what would she do? Water filled her eye, but there was nowhere for the tear to go.
“Well, I commend you, my dear,” Cheshire said, standing up and letting the cord fall, “you’re fit, healthy and well proportioned despite the circumstances.”
She lightly slapped her hand against the lower end of Chione’s buttocks. The girl shivered, her face really red now. Once again, she didn’t say anything about it.
Cheshire was often free with her hands — she always patted Melissa’s hair, or laid a hand on Rover’s shoulder when fussing over her. Chione remembered one of her aunts, the distant one who visited the estate every other Solstice, was just the same.
It was just an affectionate appreciation for Chione’s body. But after all the comments from the less pure-hearted women around here, she was finding she didn’t appreciate their ‘appreciation.’ Maybe Cheshire was right about her lower half, but that just made her wish she had a skirt again all the more.