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  Chapter 3:

  Crystal Discovery

  After many years, inmates realized that no one from home was ever going to come back to get them once they got sent to New Australia Planetary Prison. Besides that, even new prisoners sentenced to this penal colony had already noticed on their home planets that it had been years since anyone had actually returned from Rijel 12.

  Governments spun lies about it publicly. In news conferences they denied a cover-up. And privately they just ignored it or claimed feebly that they had no knowledge of what had happened to prisoners. When family members inquired as to the fate of their incarcerated loved ones, they got nowhere. No information on their convicted relative was forthcoming. There was no record-keeping at NAPP after a while, either. Files on prisoners were created in the early days of course but then in later years these files were simply misplaced.

  Basically it was impractical. Ships tended to travel right through the Rijel system without stopping, or stopping merely to refuel and take on mineral deposits to trade back at their home planets. The bigger the load they brought home, the bigger the payout when they got back. Minerals and gemstones were cheap to purchase in bulk on Rijel 12, but very expensive when transported back to other planets for resale, so why make room for prisoners on the return trip? It just reduced the profitability of the voyage. The governments were paying the captains a fee to take prisoners TO Rijel 12, but there was no monetary incentive in bringing them back. Much more money could be made from a full load of cargo, after all. So why bother?

  Families of the inmates never fully grasped this. Rijel 12 was simply too far away to have to pay a freighter to transport home ONE, FIVE, or even TWENTY convicts who’d completed their sentence and NAPP was not in the business of tracking down a prisoner once they’d been sent into those hellish mines!

  Meanwhile, the prison Warden and his managers were making quite a good living for themselves, under the table. There were port fees, docking fees, refueling fees, and loading fees. Ships landed to offload supplies, then took on as much ore and raw gemstones as they could. They would refuel, resupply with food for the voyage back, and then take off again. Neither the ship captains nor the Warden himself had any concern for fulfilling the promises made by other planets regarding completed sentences.

  But then something happened that made conditions even worse—if that was even feasible given the already deplorable conditions at New Australia Planetary Prison.

  A new discovery deep within the mines of Rijel 12 caused quite a stir in the scientific communities of several planets seeking “infinite” power sources for their intergalactic space craft. Discovery of massive veins of Perovskite and Quartz on Rijel 12 occurred in the 30th Earth year of New Australia Planetary Prison. At that time, copper, lead, and zinc could already be mined in abundance from Rijel 12 and refined into silver (to make silver wire). This eventually meant that space craft could be powered by CRYSTALS mined from Rijel 12.

  Many years ago back on the planet Earth, a piezoelectric transducer was developed which extracted mechanical vibrations and provided electrical output in a more efficient, clean, and reliable manner than burning fossil fuels. At first this technology could be used for small electrical components on automobiles; and also in the ignition mechanisms on cigarette lighters. But the technology continued to be developed over the centuries. This gradually evolved into an almost infinite power source for engines on spacecraft; and the process used piezoelectric materials available in abundance such as ceramic, polymeric and crystals.

  Perovskite, it was discovered, could be mined from Rijel 12 in great abundance. Quartz was also discovered in large veins below the surface, and when crystals the size of an office building were found within the planet core of Rijel 12, it was merely a matter of burrowing down and extracting them. This required extremely arduous labor for the already hard-pressed inmates, because they’d have to tunnel around with hand tools to finally free the giant crystals for extraction. The Warden could see massive profit was at stake, and soon the Interplanetary Authority was demanding increased production from Rijel 12.

  Piezoelectricity refers to the property of certain crystals, such as quartz, to become electrically polarized when the crystal is subjected to mechanical pressure, thereby exhibiting a voltage across it. Compression and stretching generate voltages of opposite polarity. The piezoelectric effect merely needs to be amplified via a transistor, and then channeled along copper (or silver wire preferably) to create a vast amount of energy.

  Basically Rijel 12 had all these raw materials.

  When these massive crystals were discovered deep inside the mines of Rijel 12, scientists on other planets announced proudly to the galaxy that they could now be used to power intergalactic space craft. Solar panels the size of sports stadiums on the outside of galactic crafts could store energy in great power plants to run the piezoelectric process, and this gave an almost infinite power source to run spacecraft engines. Now, advanced modern spacecraft could… finally… explore the entire Universe!

  Suddenly the planet of Rijel 12 had a brand new income source… and the new Warden saw how he could become extremely wealthy. Wealthy beyond his wildest dreams, he imagined.

  Warden Ggggaaah, was a Zorgolong with a pirate past who had taken over after the second prison warden from Earth had retired in the 35th year of prison operation. By that time, the realities of New Australia Planetary Prison were accepted at face value: They were only there to make money for the Interplanetary Authority, and as long as the production goals were met or exceeded, there was plenty of extra lucre available for Ggggaaah and his managers. He got rich quite quickly! But Ggggaaah also instituted some new reforms which changed the way things were done on Rijel 12, and this led to the formation of brand new societies below ground.

  To Ggggaaah, the whole concept of work performance could be managed by the control of food….

  Guards were difficult to recruit from other planetary systems, so the quality of men willing to work there had declined to literally the lowest dregs of society. But it also became a great place to go disappear to for a while if a being was in need of a fresh start: if he was running from the law, an angry spouse, or from his family obligations back home. Ggggaaah seized upon this to recruit guards who would carry out his orders without question or face being sent back home.

  It was certainly no paradise for the guards of course, but the guards and prison administrators lived in relative extravagance compared to the poor souls pressed into service in the horrid mines below ground. These new guards, recruited by Ggggaaah or by his administrators, gradually replaced the original staff as the years passed, and their function eventually became merely to distribute food and achieve production quotas. To do so, they learned to manage their sections of the prison by delegating work detail and organization to the prisoners themselves—then merely distribute food based on production performance.

  That was how Ggggaaah envisioned it, much like in the way pirate ships operated in his youth: Work and you eat. Mutiny and you die. The system worked quite well that way for the prison mines, and guards became mere armed defenders and proprietors of the food depots. Meanwhile, the food depots became fortified underground military outposts.

  Then a remarkable thing happened. A social structure developed among the prison population where gangs established themselves to protect the flow of food supplies to the struggling souls below; making sure everyone got to eat, as well as providing protection to its membership from other gangs. Some gangs developed more quickly than others and benefited from stronger leadership, so over the years, the prison guards found they could refer more and more of the work supervision to the gang leaderships. Gangs gradually took over almost everything regarding prisoner management. They would train and manage their own work shift supervisors, order materials, tools and supplies. Gangs even trained Slartigifijian maintenance workers to repair and service the air and water filtration systems.

  Guards developed into mere go-betw
eens, commanding sections of the ever-expanding mining network, and dealing with gang leaders exclusively, regarding matters of discipline and food distribution.

  Water was plentiful (the Slartigifijian prisoners were excellent engineers and because they often lived very long lives, many gangs employed and prized them), but food was not, so the planet imported most all its food stuffs, sending supplies down into the mines to be provided to well-performing gangs meeting their production quotas. But the Slartigifijian prisoners used their brilliance to devise and eventually develop hydroponic farms which grew crops and supplemented the prisoners’ diets.

  Lighting was always being installed and maintained in the mines; and these resourceful squid-like beings from Slartigifij began stockpiling lighting systems to supply artificial sunlight for their hydroponic gardens. The guards rarely ventured out of their food depots anyway, so they were unaware of the amazing progress with agriculture going on down below in the mines. Yet over the years, the gangs who had wisely protected and kept their highly-prized Slartigifijian comrades safe and alive, were already growing their own food and bolstering the diets of their fellow prisoners with desperately needed additional calories.

  Enforcing discipline was otherwise relatively simple: Work hard and achieve production goals: then you eat well. So the gangs were incented to keep their membership working hard toward these goals. Amazingly this system worked quite well for several years, and death or disease from malnutrition began to stabilize or even decline—at least for a while.

  Social structure developed, and the evolution of the gangs into hierarchical communities based on specialties of ability (and exhibited value of service to the gang), led to the prisoners gradually identifying themselves more and more with their new gang identity—rather than with their previous lives as criminals back on their home planet. As prisoners frankly, they all gained a level of respect for each other, in that despite whatever they’d done to get sent to prison; they had indeed survived this hellish place.

  But even with all this amazing effort to find a way to survive the un-survivable and create a meaningful existence, the beings of New Australia Planetary Prison still faced the failings of character and ethics that inevitably accompany the evils of absolute power.

  The last straw occurred when prisoners would meet quotas only to find food deliveries were late in arriving… or held back by corrupt guards who cruelly demanded higher production goals to further their own rank and position.

  Many of the guards did that, and when they felt they could get away with it, they’d literally try and starve the prisoners into submission. The prisoners would naturally be compelled to step up production; furthering the performance numbers for the unethical guards engaging in this practice. The guard of course, might get praised for his results and even get promoted! But prisoners would often die from malnutrition as a result. It just required so many calories to work through a full work shift. Malnutrition could lead to exhaustion. Exhaustion could lead to illness. Illness could lead to death.

  Warden Ggggaaah of course made things far worse, when prisoners would strike and demand better living or working conditions. Air and water systems needed maintenance, tools needed repair, and food quality was often quite horrid. Sanitation was downright abhorrent. Risking disaster still, the Gang Leaders would find a way to organize and call a strike to damage production temporarily to try and force change. It did little, except for repeatedly proving the complete and utter immorality of the prison administration.

  Expecting to quell any uprisings or strikes quickly by starving the malcontents, food deliveries would be totally suspended—by order of the Warden—and weaker prisoners began to starve when that happened. Warden Ggggaaah would simply cut off ALL food distribution to the mine, electricity to the fans, lighting, and water filtration systems, and work would soon resume.

  A hasty meeting would be called with striking gang leaders and a settlement would be reached… but little would change, and a few hundred more prisoners would die each time it was attempted. Nevertheless, the gang leaders had to at least try and force change. Their very position as leader of the gang demanded it. Failure to defy the guards could be construed as complicity, and gang leaders could and did get overthrown on occasion.

  Malnutrition wasn’t the only major problem, they pointed out repeatedly. A lack of medical supplies for injured or ill workers led to resentment toward the gang leadership who had promised protection to their members and therefore taken responsibility for their well-being. The gang leaders argued that the Warden should consider—and respect—the potential threat of losing his gang leader contacts and subsequently losing control of the entire prison if there was a wide-scale riot. The gang leaders really were the key to maintaining order, they professed. There were over a hundred thousand prisoners in those mines now; and only about 35,000 thousand guards defending the food depots. In their view, Warden Ggggaaah really needed them to help in preventing a riot.

  But Ggggaaah simply would not listen to this preposterous idea. Only he could control the food supply, the electricity, and the guards. He simply couldn’t believe in such a threat as this: a prison riot? How could they expect to succeed? The food depots were basically subterranean fortresses with armed guards. Prisoners had nothing but mining tools. They’d stand no chance against modern weapons, so attacking a guard station was practically suicide.

  Therefore, negotiations would conclude, peace would temporarily be restored, and work production would return to acceptable levels (for a while anyway). Each strike would lead to some mild concessions or promises of reform; but little would be done. The prisoners just kept on working, the Slartigifijians kept on designing better farms, and the gangs continued to protect these farms from detection by the guards.

  Long term, the belief was that a successful hydroponic farm network was the key to surviving the next strike, and when greater concessions were achieved, this would truly mean a better life for the gang members. But that was taking too long. They still had to rely on the guards for food, and there was little they could do about corrupt guards raising production quotas in isolated sections of the mine. The guards would behave well for a while, on orders from the Warden, but eventually they’d slip back into their old habits of driving workers harder in their assigned production sectors with threats of withholding food. Corrupt guards were never discharged, merely transferred to a different section of the mine and go right back to their old habits.

  Everyone knew it, even the wise Slartigifijians: a planet-wide rebellion was the only answer. Even the timidly cautious and rodent-like Schpleeftii admitted it. In time, the naturally warlike Zorgolongians, Porkonjii, Pumalars, and Humans just downright demanded it. The only thing left to do was organize. Planet-wide, too. It was high time for desperate action.

  Chapter 4:

  Open Rebellion

  Riots are an ugly thing. Prison riots especially. They aren’t organized. A singular act merely sparks an explosion of violence and then things escalate into destruction, bloodshed, and tragedy. But rebellions can take many forms. An armed rebellion usually centers ‘round a charismatic leader who steps forward to state very eloquently what everyone else is already thinking. And the people rally around that charismatic leader to go out and fight the forces of oppression under his leadership. Rebellions need that: a leader or group of leaders to organize the rebels themselves and direct their attacks. That’s all the prisoners on Rijel 12 needed, and one day such a creature came forward. His name was Architeuthis.

  Early in the harsh days of New Australia Planetary Prison, a Slartigifijian named Architeuthis was sentenced to permanent banishment on Rijel 12. His crime back on Slartigifij—was never spoken about. That was often the way with prisoners from that planet. Their society was very much built around the maintenance of one’s image; and embarrassment or humiliation were the only real strong emotions for a Slartigifijian that could elicit a detectable reaction. So Architeuthis came to work in the mines and struggled to su
rvive just like everyone did, laboring away for many years. And no one asked questions about his past.

  Life on Slartigifij was a very advanced form of what Earthmen might describe as a Feudal society. From top to bottom, all Slarts (as the prisoners from other planets referred to them in a derogatory fashion) had their role which they must serve in society. And they were expected to be satisfied with their station in life, regardless of what it was. Every Slart farmer, for example, was expected to be happy with his function as a farmer. And every mother, father, craftsman, builder, manager, driver, pilot, teamster, bureaucrat, doctor, or college professor knew what they were as individuals and accepted it. Early in life, a Slart was identified has having an aptitude for either higher education or apprenticeship to a trade; and they were brought up in that trade or educated to run or manage things according to this early evaluation. Slarts simply could not lie, guess, or exaggerate. They merely countered with sober evaluations of what they estimated was the truth, and stated only what they deemed to be irrefutable fact.

  Though a Human might speculate, theorize, claim, exaggerate, postulate, accuse, guess, or just outright lie… a Slart had neither the ability nor the inclination to do so. They were squid-like in appearance and their head was conical-shaped with eight little arms extending out from around the base of their face. These little arms around the base of the head performed very little in the way of major functions but would flail and quiver comically when the Slart spoke. Their speech was soothing and musical really, like the sound of an oboe or a baritone saxophone. Their lifespan was twice that of most species including humans; plus they had two long Tentacles which formed from (what would appear to humans as) shoulders. These Tentacles were quite adept at grabbing and manipulating objects of any kind; and their grip was freakishly strong. Basically a Slart stood erect on a set of eight shorter tentacles which served like feet and enabled them to scurry about. But compared to most humans they were shorter; barely averaging five feet tall.