The Only Punishment
The floor of the room was white, but three of the walls and the ceiling were light blue. His own bland pajamas were light green.
It was probably supposed to be calming, but it only angered Rats. He knew what this was—a fregging brainwashing facility, that’s what. It didn’t matter how nice they were trying to be. It was just a part of it.
He glanced angrily at the glass wall. It was the only window in the room, made of thick and unbreakable glass, and it showed nothing but a garden, so overgrown it looked more like a forest. Of course, this was supposed to be a nice view. Pretty trees and flowers and a pretty little fregging stream. It was so fregging blatant that he wondered how stupid the Authorities could be. Admittedly, he’d spent a lot of time staring atit while he was in his cell, but that was only because there was nothing else to do. The room was almost bare, with a bunk and a table and a side door to a small bathroom—and the big, unmovable door that led outside.
Of course, even Rats himself admitted it was in some ways better than where he used to live. But he’d still choose his old hole any day. It may have been stinky and loud and no bigger than this cell—but it was his. And he knew he wasn’t going to walk out brainwashed to be a nice little fregging sheep when he went there.
Of course, Rats knew he could have been a better person. Nobody was perfect, and especially not in the slums. You couldn’t affordit. But he was a good person, he knew that, as much as he could be. He stood up for his mates and helped people in need when he could afford to. He kept his word and his honor.
At one point, he’d even told it to them, when a couple of them were escorting him to one of their stupid, ineffective brainwashing sessions. He tried his best, he’d told them. The “crimes” they’d arrested him for, they had no idea what was really happening. Sure, he’d been violent, probably even killed someone—so what? They’d attacked first, and not just once. Of course, if you just came swooping to the scene in your fregging flying car at that moment, it would looklike he was attacking, but it really wasn’t like that. And if these guys were allowed to punish you for wrongdoing, why couldn’t the people on the streets bust some heads too? Rats would never have hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. And he lived down there, in the slums in the ruins—he knew whatwasgoingonandhe guys just came from somewhere outside andstarted kidnapping and brainwashing people.
