After three really bad days of working there, my urge for leaving this god awful planet grew even more. But I couldn't leave just like that, I needed a plan. A solid plan.
"Alright people! Wake up! It's work time!", our 'warden' yelled and I 'woke up'. Well, I didn't sleep in the first place, partly because of my cellmate's snoring, but mostly because I was thinking. I knew it was almost impossible, but atleast I had a path, a goal, I couldn't say that about most of the people there. They had no goals in life, they ate, worked and when they became really old or physically unable to work, they were killed. I didn't want to end up like them, so I had to make a plan and get the hell out of here.
I got up and my roommate was still sleeping. I didn't want him to get whipped and scream in pain all night, that's bad for my sleep, so I woke him up. Even though we were in the same cell, we didn't talk a lot. Well, he tried talking to me several times, but I wasn't being very responsive. I thought he would give up after a few tries, but he tried again at lunch. After a hard day of work, we were sent back to our cells for 30 minutes of lunchtime. That seems a lot, but it really isn't. It takes me around 10 minutes of walking to get to the end of the factory, where I enter the big gate, which leads to the 'jail', as people like to call it, and then I get 10 minutes of lunchtime and I have to get back in time after that or I get whipped.
So, anyways, I get back to my cell, and so did my cellmate and he tried to talk. I thought "Why not? Let's just talk to him, there is no harm in that". I was so wrong.
"Even this shitty food tastes so good after a long day of work, doesn't it?" he tried to start a chat.
"Nope. Still tastes shitty." I replied. It really did taste shitty.
"Anyways, how did you get here?" he asked.
"My dad took some debt from the capital, couldn't pay it off, died, and I ended up here. What about you?"
"I never really knew my dad, he left us. It was just mum and me. She got jailed for stealing. We couldn't pay the penalty, so, I got here."
"That's rough, man. Oh, I didn't even ask for your name."
"It's okay. My name is Gary…. Gary Frost.", he said and stuck his hand out.
"Leo." I said and I shook it.
"No last name?"
"No……."
We got interrupted by the guards, who were checking if anyone was skipping work. Apparently, while we were busy in our little chat, the lunch break ended.
"Come with us. We will teach you kids what happens if someone skips work round here."
As I said earlier, talking to him wasn't harmless, but I enjoyed it. It had been weeks since I talked to someone like that. I like this guy, he seemed like a good guy.
Next morning, I decided to talk to the oldest people around here, as they would know a lot about this place. After all, if I have to escape from a place, I have to know all about it. I talked to a couple old people in the morning, before work began, but they didn't tell me much, just the things I already know. Mancipium is the slave and industrial capital of this galaxy, which means it mass produces all kinds of stuff and it sells slaves too. It seemed like noone knew more than that until I asked Grill. As I didn't even complete my education, I was deemed unworthy of operating the machines and was put in manual labour. I was assigned the job of loading stuff into the transport ships, and Grill and I worked in the same warehouse, warehouse number 87. He was a skinny old man, probably in his 60s. I didn't talk much to Grill before, just introduction stuff.
"Grill, how much do you know about Mancipium?" I inquired.
"What do you wanna know?" he replied.
"Just regular stuff. What's on the rest of the planet, the whole planet can't be only factories, can it? Who rules here? And, is there anyway to get out of here?"
"Okay, I will answer them one by one. Yes, almost the whole planet is factories..."
"Almost?"
"Let me finish. On the other side of the planet, there is a castle and a big field. The castle belongs to the overlord, who rules here."
"Have you seen him?"
"No, but I have seen his son. I hate that bastard, riding his hoverboard around the factory like his father owns the place."
"His father literally owns the… Wait! Did you say hoverboard?"
"Yes, wh…"
"How would you describe his son?"
"Well, I don't know him well, do I? He doesn't talk to slaves much. The only time I have seen talking to us is when he is angry, which almost all the time. That kid's got real anger issues."
"Okay. Now, the last question?"
"What was that? Yes, is there anyway to get out of here? Well, there is a way, if you get bought by some offworlder in the slave trade."
"Slave trade? When does that happen?"
"Every 6 months. Well, One happened 3 months ago.."
"Which means the next is in 3 months! Thank you so much, Grill."
That night, I was able to sleep, knowing that, finally, I have got a plan. A solid plan.
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