A few miles away, and a few stories underground, Kadamba began to regain consciousness. His head throbbed, and his chest ached from the justice enforcement officer’s energy blast. As he sat up and looked around, he realized that he was in a small chamber. Actually, it was more of a box that was about four feet tall and four feet wide by ten feet deep. The far end wall of the chamber was transparent, as were about two feet of the ceiling, the floor, and both side walls extending from the transparent end. Kadamba scooted himself to that see-through section of his cage, looked out, and saw hundreds of boxes, just like his, stacked as high as he could see. The row of chambers that he was in faced another row of the little prison boxes.
As he scanned the chambers across from his, he could see men and women. Some were lying; some were sitting. Some wore regular clothing while others wore what looked like a bright orange one-piece, tight-fitting suit of some type. In one of the chambers, he could have sworn the man was naked, and in another, water or something appeared to be spraying on the inside. He looked down to see that the woman below him was curled up in a ball, with her head between her legs. As he glanced left, he gave a little jump. The man in the next box was wide-eyed and flashing a toothy, hungry grin at him. Kadamba felt like a piece of meat that a starving man was about to devour. He looked away quickly, hoping the man would leave. To the right, the part of the box that he could see was empty.
Then he looked up. The top of the box was barely a foot from his face, and he was looking directly at another man’s anus and testicles. The naked man looked down at Kadamba between his own legs, tittering. Kadamba closed his eyes and crawled away from the transparent end of the box. Tears flowed as he started remembering what had happened before the energy blast slammed into his chest, rendering him unconscious.
A screen appeared abruptly on the wall opposite the transparent wall. A smiling woman appeared on the screen. “Welcome to the Purostinov Justice Processing Center,” the perky face announced with a smile featuring overly whitened teeth, high cheekbones, and unbelievably perfect dimples.
It appeared to be a recording and was incredibly annoying. Kadamba asked himself aloud, “Who the hell designs this crap?”
“We are a wholly-owned subsidiary of the Purostinov Government Services Company. We proudly serve the citizens of Stujorkian City, providing the most cost-effective and efficient justice processing in the nation. As a client of Purostinov, you will find your case handled quickly and professionally.”
The recorded, smiling face continued to drone on for a few more minutes, but Kadamba was lost in his own thoughts. He was scared. Deep inside, he knew he that had screwed up in a significant way. He should have never sold rath to that kid. It was stupid, and he wished that he could have those few moments back. He wanted to send the kid on his way, with his money back in his little pocket and none of the drug. But it was too late.
