The Stars Came Back (7 page)

Harbin: (
Disapproving) Souvenirs are useless. Kill more people by distracting them from the mission than you’d believe.

Helton:
Maybe so. But something tells me this is worth the risk. It’s not that heavy. (Nodding out the entrance) They gone?

Harbin: Seem to be.

Helton: Think we can rest a bit longer. Until it cools off, anyway.

Harbin shrugs his assent,
lies back into a more comfortable position, closes his eyes, and looks as if he falls asleep immediately. Helton looks at him in surprise, then settles back as well.

DISSOLVE TO

INT - EVENING -
Cave entrance

The reddish light filtering into the cave mouth is dim and low angle
d. The sun is close to setting. Helton gently kicks Harbin’s boot with his. Harbin’s eyes open narrowly, then fully.

Harbin: Rocks. Comfy as always.

Helton: Yeah, I hear you, but better than sleeping with knock-out gas.

They both stand, stretch a moment, adjust their clothes,
drink from water bottles, gage the little remaining, then lean up the slope to the open part of the entryway, listening closely. Noting but the faint breeze reaches their ears.

Helton: Well, not too much farther… let’s roll, then.

They scramble up the slope and out.

FADE TO BLACK

Mine

F
ADE IN

EXT - DAY - Low rocky ridge

Helton and Harbin lie just below the crest of a ridge of gravel and rocks, peering over the top toward the mine. The sun is halfway to zenith. Their dust covered clothes blend into the rocks. In the near distance, against the far wall of a small valley is the prison mine operation. It is located where three steep-walled valleys converge. They see scattered tailing piles and a landing pad to one side with two large fliers, one medium, and two small two-person quad-rotors. No walls or fences can be seen, just industrial style buildings built against the rock face, a few outbuildings, one not far from the landing field, and a couple of conveyor belts coming out leading to large gravel piles. There are a few large pieces of earth-moving equipment parked in the shadows.

Harbin: No fence. That’ll make it easier.

Helton: Don’t need one. Where’d they run?

Harbin grunts concurrence as they look the place over.

Helton: We’ll need keys, likely from the building next to the field, then go for the biggest flier. OK, so we wait for dusk, sneak in over there on the right in the shadows.

Harbin: No.

Helton looks at him with cocked head, questioningly.

Harbin: In another hour or so, the rocks will be the same temperature as us, and we will hardly show up on thermal scanners. They won’t expect someone coming from this side, and they’d not expect someone to try to escape during the heat of the day, so they
’re not likely to see us in full daylight. Sun overhead means little shadow, too.

Helton: (
Sarcastically) Just walk up? I thought I was in charge.

Harbin:
Of getting us here. Winning battles is what I do.

Helton:
Hope you’re right.

Harbin: (
Grinning widely) So do I, Helton. So do I.

They carefully start backing down the ridge.

DISSOLVE TO

EXT - DAY - Gravel pile near the mine

The sun
is directly overhead, shadows are almost nonexistent. Helton and Harbin stand at the foot of the gravely ridge, near the end.

Helton: Time. Let’s do this.

Harbin nods, hefts a baseball-sized rock and tosses it in the air, catches it, flexes his shoulders, and nods, a set look on his face.

They walk smoothly and boldly around the corner and across the open area for one of the outbuildings
, their clothes blending into the everything-dust-colored buildings and background. They approach a door facing them, open it, and stride right in, Harbin leading the way, rock in hand.

CUT TO

INT - DAY
- Well lit storage building

Helton closes the door silently behind them.
Looking around, no one is obviously there. Crowding the warehouse are stacks of crates and barrels, and shelving with boxes, bins, and cases on them. Visibility is limited. To one side are a desk and a small walled cubicle with a closed door. Harbin holds up his hand to motion silence, and both listen intently. Nothing. Harbin motions for Helton to go left while he goes right. Moving quietly along their respective walls they see no one. Circling around and meeting back by the door, they shake their heads indicating nothing seen to the other. A desk sits near the door with a couple of screens (on one a paused movie, on another four CCTV images of outside the building and surrounding area, on the third a bunch of text in various windows) a handheld barcode scanner, and some generic office gear including a large pair of scissors. They look at each other and are about to speak when a flushing sound comes from the side cubicle. Harbin grabs the scissors from the desk with his left hand, wielding them like a knife. The two of them spring to either side of the door, waiting to hit or grab whoever comes out.

CUT TO

Close-
up of the bathroom door

It opens, showing a dirty bathroom, with Slaver1 looking down and slightly sideways at his left
hand and scratching himself with the other. He notices Helton out of the corner of his left eye and reacts in a flash to reach for a com unit on his belt. Harbin holds the scissors to Slaver1’s neck and he freezes. Harbin whacks him carefully with the rock and drops him, then crouches and takes the com from his belt.

Harbin: Well, well, well…

Helton: Looks like his Karma wheel is spinning faster than most, eh?

Harbin eyes the com, examining its settings. He nods in
satisfaction and bends to feel the pulse of Slaver1 for a moment.

Harbin: Thick skull. Get a drink, I’ll watch him.

Harbin starts to go through Slaver1’s pockets and drops the contents on the floor. Helton goes into the bathroom, turns on the faucet, rinses his hands, then cups them to drink deeply and splash water on his face, standing up with a sigh of relief. Helton turns around to see a small pile of assorted pocket contents and Harbin dragging Slaver1 out of sight of the door with one hand, scissors in the other. Helton goes over and helps drag the last bit.

Harbin:
(Nodding toward the front) Watch the door and cameras.

Harbin looks around and grabs a spool of cord from a shelf while Helton walks back toward the front.

CUT TO

View of desk and cubicle next to the entry door

Harbin walks to the cubicle and pauses at the door.

Harbin: Anything?

Helton: Nope. All quiet.

Harbin nods and enters the bathroom cubicle and closes the door.

DISSOLVE TO

Helton and Harbin are looking at the security camera screens
. They hear a groan and look back toward the prisoner, take a quick glance at the screens, then go back to where Slaver1 is tied up to a heavy duty shelving unit. His hands are bound behind his back, feet are bound, and there is a cord with a noose around his neck tied to the shelf, so if he moves or tips over he will choke. There is blood on the floor behind one knee. Helton looks sharply at Harbin.

Harbin: (
Flatly) Hamstrings. Didn’t want him getting any ideas.

Helton nods grimly in understanding. He squats and looks at Slaver1 closely. His eyes are still closed, and he’s not moving much.

Harbin: I’ll keep an eye out.

Harbin turns and goes back, out of sight of Slaver1.
Slowly and groggily Slaver1 comes around and looks blearily at Helton. A flash of recognition comes over his face.

Slaver1: You!?

Helton: Yup. Looks like the shoe is on the other foot, hmm?

Slaver1: How’d you get here so fast? Where’s everyone else?

Helton: Life is full of little mysteries, ain’t it?

Slaver1: Sod off, snoddie!

Helton: You aren’t too bright, are you? (Nods to the leg)

Slaver1: Look in the mirror, asshole. You can’t go anywhere from here!

Helton: Just have to see about that.

Slaver1: We’ll hunt you down like a dog!

Helton just eyes him for a minute, turning the scissors about in his hand. Slaver1 stares back.

Helton: So. What’s the routine around here?

Slaver1: Screw you! You can’t even fly out of here unless you have clearance, and pass onboard security. You’re stuck here!

Helton: (
Not sounding very concerned) Well, that might be a problem. Or, it might not.

Slaver1 laughs, then chokes and gargles to a stop on the cord around his neck.

Helton: You didn’t think we could get here for two or three days, and we showed up in a day and a half.

Slaver1: (
Glaring) So? So you took all the water and ran here, sweating it out. Big deal. I don’t give a shit about sheep like you. Not a runny, puss-filled
shit
about any of you. You’re all scum, and you’ll die in the mines like the rest!

Helton: Maybe, maybe not. But if I can get here much faster than you thought possible, and get the drop on you, what else might we do to clear atmo?

Helton stand and walks away, leaving Slaver1 to think about his options for a bit.

CUT TO

Front of building by desk and door

Helton walks up beside Harbin.

Helton: (
Quietly) He’s got a point. Fliers have locks.

Harbin: Hmph.
(Points to a screen) One problem at a time.

On one of the CCTVs, two men
walk across the ground toward their building. One of them puts a hand to his ear trying to better hear a com unit. He stops walking and gesticulates like he’s arguing with someone. The guy in front of him stops and looks back. The talker turns around, shouting at someone near the mine entrance. He’s on the losing end of the argument and they both head back.

Harbin: (
Murmuring quietly, fingering the edge of the scissors) Their lucky day.

They watch the two
return to the main mine building.

Helton: What’s with that guy’s attitude?

Harbin looks at him questioningly, looking for clarification.

Helton: Why did they dump us and say “work off our debt,” and now he says we deserve to be here?

Harbin: Compartmentalization.

Now it’s Helton’s turn to look blank, not understand
ing.

Harbin: Op-Sec. And a way of getting good and marginal people to do bad things. If you tell the average guy to go murder someone, he won’t. But the guys on the ship that gassed us were told one
story. They need to be smart enough and educated enough to get a sensitive job onboard, and patient enough to be in place a while; that’s not the typical psycho killer. So, they don’t directly hurt anyone. They can deny their evil to themselves. The ship and passengers then get passed to someone else, who is told a different story. We get passed along by who knows how many people, with yet a different story at each step. Each stupid grunt is fed a story that lets him live with himself and think his actions are justified. That way the people making the plans, and profits, only need a couple of real psycho-killers on the payroll, rather than dozens. Much easier to do. Each is in a separate compartment of information from the other. He possibly really
does
think we belong here and doesn’t know a single correct thing about us. Crime gangs, cult leaders, pirates, and politicians all do it. Military units, too. It is often called “need to know.”

Helton shakes his head in disbelief.

Harbin: It’s useful. And dangerous.

Helton: Well, shit… With guys like that arou
nd we might have to leave fast. Best not leave empty handed. I’ll see what I can find.

CUT TO

Series of shots:

●  Helton walking along shelving looking at boxes and bins and crates

● 
Helton grabbing a couple of water bottles

● 
Helton hefting a gym bag type duffel, then dumping it out

● 
Helton popping open a box labeled “emergency rations” and tossing some into the bag

● 
Helton stopping in front of a stack of footlocker sized crates labeled “6.5mm M210 Carbine”

● 
Helton hears a door open, and voices arguing

CUT TO

View of front door