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Dairy Palace – ICC Magazine

Dairy Palace

That’s all Plugger could register.

Fiery, burning rage filled Plugger’s soul down to the deepest crevice, the darkest corner.

He wanted to scream, but convention would not allow for such an outburst.  He had to swallow it, deep, and bottle it inside as it sizzled and eroded his existence into gray misery.

“Just answer the question, Junior.”  Detective Dan made no pretense when he showed up in Plugger’s cybersecurity class.  He simply walked in and demanded Plugger leave with him.  No good would have resulted from making a scene.

“I told you,” Plugger answered.  “I have no idea where my father is.”

Dan grinned.  “I’m not asking about your daddy.  I’m asking about his friends.”  He held a picture up for Plugger to see.  It looked like a security cam shot. Plugger’s father and a group of his coworkers were gathered outside a commercial establishment holding the tools of their trade.  The date stamp on the picture was the previous Tuesday.  “You were seen with these men earlier that morning, so I ask you again, where are they, and what did they tell you?”

The cop was lying.  Plugger hadn’t seen his father’s associates in over a week and that was just in passing.  But this was how it was done.  Dan would try to shake Plugger down for whatever tidbit he would give up. Plugger had been through this before.  Unfortunately, that had been when he was a minor.  Now, just after his eighteenth birthday, it seemed he was fair game for the pigs.  Dan didn’t have to exercise as much restraint.  “I’m not telling you shit.  Even if I knew anything, I’d still tell you to fuck off.”

“We know your father tells you things.  All you have to do is come clean and we’ll leave you to your higher education.”

Plugger snarled at the piece of shit before him.  His cheap, ill-fitting suit was a perfect accessory to his empty personality, devoid of any sentiment or caring for anything but the next collar.  “I’m just trying to be straight.  I’ve got nothing for you. Besides, don’t you need a warrant or something?”

“We’ll see what the judge says.”  With a flick of the wrist, a bundle of papers appeared in front of Plugger’s face.  The asshole grinned.  “Are you cooperating or do we have to drag you out in cuffs?”

Plugger wanted to punch him, make the scumbag fight, but his father taught him about choosing his battles, and this would be a wasted one.  “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The nondescript copmobile was parked illegally on the sidewalk adjacent to the science building.  Plugger was ushered into the backseat where he stretched out and tried to calm himself.

The ride from campus to the justice center took less than an hour in traffic.  Plugger found himself lamenting the fact that he had not gone to an out-of-state school.  Maybe if he had been farther away, this harassment would have never happened.  But that would have meant ditching his father, and Plugger didn’t want to abandon the old man.  For all his faults, he had never done Plugger wrong.  After his mother took off on them, it was just him and his dad.  And his father did anything he could, including criminal acts, to ensure Plugger would have every chance to make it in this world.  There was no way he could ever be enticed into betraying him.  Surely, the judge had to know this.

The courtroom was chaos, a result of cost savings and rampant law enforcement.  People wanted the streets clean, but they didn’t want to pay for it.  It took hours before the judge cleared the courtroom of the earlier scheduled cases.  The detective approached the bench, dragging Plugger along by the arm.

“This.”  Detective shitbag pushed Plugger forward.  “Is Justus Jazo, Mugface Junior?”

“Really?”  Judge Horn leaned forward and peered over his glasses.  “Ready to follow in your father’s footsteps, are you?”

Plugger rolled his eyes.  “No.  I was in class when douchelhoff dragged me here.  Now, I’m going to have to make up for my lost attendance.”

“He won’t answer my questions,” Dan explained.  “So I slapped him with the subpoena.”

“Seems like you had plenty of opportunity to stay in class, you can blame your belligerence for any missed class time.”  Horn flipped through some documentation and cleared his throat.  “Is the prosecution here?”

A woman in a worse suit than Dan’s stepped forward.  “Yes, we’ve been waiting all day.”

“Let’s swear him in,” Horn announced.

The bailiff led Plugger to the witness stand and swore him in.  Plugger shifted uncomfortably in the seat.

“So you stated that you have no idea where your father’s associates are at this time,” the prosecutor stated.  “Is this true?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Plugger answered.  “I’ve been in class all day.”

“But you were seen with them last week.  We have evidence that you have been in contact with these men.  Do you deny this?”

“I see lots of people,” Plugger replied.  It was true that Plugger’s father and his friends rarely held their tongue around him.  But they were also careful not to disclose anything that could compromise his ignorance.  Yeah, there were occasional references to places and jobs, but nothing concrete enough to implicate anyone.  All Plugger learned from the group were inflated tales of sexual liaisons, who had the biggest firearm and curse words that no man should know before his twenty-first birthday.  There was a standing rule not to drag Plugger into the same shit life that the group traversed.

“Just answer the questions,” Horn commanded.

“I know this isn’t legal,” Plugger replied.

“The Turn-Key Act states otherwise,” Horn countered.  “You’re an adult associate of a known tweak-crime felon.  As such, we have the right to detain you until you cooperate.”

“My father’s no tweak.  He’s not dangerous.”  Plugger stated.  “You can only detain dangerous tweaks with powers.”

“Your father falls under category C.  He’s a known accomplice of several dangerous powered individuals.  And as his son, you fall into category E, making you fair game.”

“Well, I still don’t know shit.  I ain’t answering shit.  And you can shove it up your ass.”

“You, young man, are in contempt.”  Horn smacked the gavel on the bench.  “Maybe a few days of vacation will help jog your memory loss.”

“County?” the bailiff asked.

“No,” Horn replied.  “With his family’s propensities, let’s not take any chances.  Send him to Lighthouse.  Let him learn what trouble his mouth can bring him.”

Lighthouse was constructed with the low-level superpowered in mind.  It was mostly populated with henchmen and lackeys.  Nobody of any import was incarcerated there, but all the residents were just a little too dangerous or crafty to incarcerate in the general population.  Neither Plugger nor his father had any real abilities, but Plugger’s father had always associated with those of the tweaked persuasion.  And being that perception was reality, Lighthouse it was.

Plugger should have been scared shitless.  He’d never been inside and was a little on the scrawny side.  But he wasn’t afraid.  His father spent years hardening him up, and he’d heard more than a few yard tales to give him an idea of what kind of hell he was in for.  Knowing made it easier to prepare.  Plus, Mugface had a decent rep.  He was tough but had no friction with anyone in particular.  As long as Plugger stayed to himself and didn’t piss off the guards, he’d be fine.

***

Intake went as expected.  Humiliation was dispensed in full, leaving Plugger feeling like a rape survivor.  The walk to the cell was torturous.  The prison underwear was riding up and sticking in places where the lubricant from the cavity search remained.  Plugger reminded himself to count his blessings.  At least there had been lubricant.  But still, he had to fight the urge to adjust his pants, knowing it would only draw the wrong kind of attention.

The cell was a four-man cage with two bunk beds.  There was one big guy sitting on the can when Plugger arrived.

Once the door closed, the guy nodded at Plugger.  “Asp.”  He held out his hand.

Plugger shook it.  “Plugger.”

“Plugger, eh.” Asp scanned him.  “A little young for the biz, aren’t you?”

Plugger shrugged.  “Turned eighteen last month.  I’m fair game for these bastards now.”

Asp laughed.  “Yeah, what you do?”

Plugger looked down and shook his head.  “Nothing for real, man, just contempt.  I wouldn’t rat on the old man, so they pulled me from campus and dragged my ass here.”

“For reals?  Who’s your daddy?”

“Mugface Jazo, but I don’t know anything about his business.”

“I do.”  Asp grinned.  “I ran with him once or twice.  He’s not tweaked, are you?”

“Nah,  I’m just a known associate of a known associate.”

“So they fucking with you.”

“Yup.”

Asp nodded.  “I’ll put out the word that you a non-com.  That should make things smoother.  But if the guards pay to rough you up, you may still be in for some bullshit.”

Plugger nodded.  “Thanks, man.  I’m just trying to get through this so I can get back to my life, you know?”

“We all are, now turn your narrow ass around, so I can wipe.”

“Oh yeah,” Plugger turned and let Asp finish his business.

“You take the bunk above me before they bring anyone else in here.”

Plugger saw Asp’s blanket on the right bottom bunk and threw his own on the top bunk.  He was relieved that was settled.  Mugface relayed more than one tale of bunk-related combat.

It wasn’t long before two more guys were herded into the cell.  Eggnog and Shapey.  The minute Eggnog arrived, Asp offered prayers to heaven for his deliverance.  Plugger had no idea why until Asp handed him a juice box and was returned some kind of boozy concoction.

It was an unspoken rule that people didn’t discuss the nature of their abilities, however, observation revealed bits and pieces, and this bit and piece revealed that Eggnog could ferment things.  This was a skill that was highly sought after inside.

Shapey, as his name suggested, was bendy.  He tried to downplay it in order to avoid the constant requests to reach around the bars and get this or that.  The prison staff was fully aware of his abilities, so precautions were taken.  Shapey stated that this made things particularly frustrating for him when people asked him to help them break out.

Plugger hadn’t figured out Asp yet, and from what he was hearing, his name had less to do with skill and more to do with anatomy.  Asp claimed it was due to his large male member and as a result of this, he had three girlfriends on the outside who were all friends with each other.  He said they had a schedule of who got him when.  Plugger found it all very unbelievable but kept his opinion to himself.

Shapey didn’t.  He told Asp he was full of crap.  But instead of getting physical, the two simply took verbal jabs at each other until they were all giggling like school girls.  Plugger hoped it would remain like this for his entire stay.

And it did.

Plugger suffered no further humiliation or torture for his four days of incarceration.  After that, Plugger was released to the custody of the court, where he was again brought before Judge Horn.

“So, young man,” Horn began.  “Are you ready to talk now?”

“I’ve been in Lighthouse,” Plugger replied.  “I know even less than before.  Those guys could be anywhere.”

“But you know where they hide out.  Just tell us and you can go back to school.”

“Read my lips.  I don’t know.  And, if I did, I would never rat on my father or his friends.  What the hell is wrong with you?  You have to know this by now.”

“Take him back.”  Horn slammed the gavel.  “Maybe another change of scenery will shake something loose.”

The bailiff dragged Plugger off by the arm, causing Plugger to stumble forward.  Regaining his balance, he sighed as he was shuffled out of the courthouse and into a correctional department van.  He found himself alone in the locked vehicle.  The engine was off, so there was no air conditioning, and the stench of hot, old, vinyl seats permeated Plugger’s nose. He coughed in reaction to the oppressive stench.  His stomach gurgled in reaction.

Plugger screamed.  “FUCK THIS SHIT!  Goddamn stinky-ass…ARGHH!”

“Day don’t clean dis shit,” a voice sounded from the back.

Plugger turned around to see a shimmer, then a man appeared before him.  The guy was also cuffed and seated, apparently waiting for transport.  He was a small old man, pale with thinning gray hair.  He looked nothing like his voice sounded.

“I didn’t see you there,” Plugger admitted.  “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” the man replied.  Now, his voice was different, more elder-like.  “They haven’t figured out how to deactivate me yet.  I was testing to see if they did.”

“Deactivate you?”  Plugger inquired.  “I didn’t think they could do that.”

“Not with tweaks.  This is science.  But they’re too stupid to stop me.”

“So you can turn invisible and change your voice?” Plugger asked.

The geezer cracked a smile.  “I can do a lot more than that, boy.  Name’s Liquidate, I haven’t seen you around before.”

“You’re Doctor Liquidate?  You’re a heavy hitter.  Why are they sending you to Lighthouse?”

“This bus isn’t going to Lighthouse.  We’re going to Powerdown.”

Plugger growled and slammed himself into the back of the seat.  “Fucking Horn.”

“You’re a little young to score a Powerdown stay.  What have you been up to?”

“Contempt.”  Plugger shook his head.  “I’m supposed to be in class, but they want my dad’s associates.  I really don’t know anything, but they won’t listen.”

“Who’s your daddy?” Liquidate hissed menacingly.

Plugger managed to conceal the shiver that ran down his spine.  “Mugface Jazo.”

“Mugface, really?  You’re baby Mugface?  I thought the rumors were exaggerated.  So what can you do?”

“Nothing,” Plugger replied.  “Dad said he tested me as a kid and I’m normal.”

“You’re still a kid.  I can’t believe Mugface hid that from me all those years.  It was smart.  I had nothing to hold over him.”

“You worked together?”

Liquidate laughed.  “He worked for me for a short time.  He was a model henchman.  Never gave me any trouble.  So you said you were in school.  Was he trying to give you the straight life?”

“Yeah,” Plugger responded.  “But the pigs won’t leave me alone.  At this rate, I’ll flunk out.”

“Please tell me you weren’t going into something pathetic like accounting or law enforcement.”

“Nah, I was going into cybersecurity.  That’s where the future is.”

Liquidate’s grin broadened.  “So you’re a hacker.”

“Nah, I’m not, I haven’t…well, just a little.”

“You should skip this college nonsense, save your money and apprentice with Demon Kernel or Cyber Smash.”

“My dad wanted me to stay out of the life.  Besides, I don’t even know those guys.”

“I do.  I could introduce you.”

“Why?” Plugger asked.  “What’s in it for you?”

“Good talent’s hard to find.  I make the intro, you run your first grownup job with me.  I’ll even pay you.”

“I can’t.  I promised dad.”

Liquidate shrugged.  “Suit yourself.  You know where to find me when you change your mind.  And you will change your mind.  They will never leave you alone, because of your lineage.”

“Maybe I need to move–”

The door to the van opened and a correctional officer stepped in.  “I don’t want any trouble from either of you.”

Four well-armed men followed and took strategic positions around the van.  The driver took his seat and started the engine.  A moment later, they were underway.

Plugger glanced over his shoulder and wondered how dangerous Liquidate could be that they needed four guards just for him.

“They’re worse than ‘im in there, you know,” the guard closest to Plugger said.  “They’re gonna love you.”

Plugger stayed quiet.  He knew this was just a ploy to get under his skin.  He stared straight ahead, trying to avoid eye contact.  The guard continued to taunt him through the rest of the six-hour drive.  Mugface used to joke about the convenience of living close to the two largest tweak prisons, now Plugger finally understood why.  If the ride had been much longer, Plugger might have lost his mind.

The van pulled into an industrial-looking garage. Aside from the main entrance to the outside, there was only one small doorway.  Bright ceiling-mounted lights flooded every surface.  It was bright enough that the six officers guarding the room each wore sunglasses.  Plugger squinted as he exited the vehicle.

Liquidate was ushered through the small doorway first.   Once he was through, Plugger was led through the door.

The light dimmed and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.  He glanced around at a featureless hallway, painted in an institutional gray/beige color.  Steel doors lined the hall, each triggered a new sense of anxiety as Plugger passed.

Plugger suddenly wished he had gone to school overseas or at least across the country.  At this rate, he’d lose his grants.  He had to maintain a 2.7 GPA.  He sighed as the guards led him from the lab, down the bleak hall to stairs to the prison level.

The march of shame was long and demeaning.  Inmates howled at Plugger as he walked the interminable distance to his cell.

Fortunately, it was empty.  A single cot sat against the left wall, a toilet and sink were against the back.  Plugger washed up in the sink and then laid down on the cot.  He was exhausted, emotionally and physically.

Sleep came quickly, and soon Plugger was submerged in a river of dreams.  They washed over him, tossed him from unconsciousness to the shores of waking, only to pull him back down to the waters of slumber.  His mind processed recent events, as he struggled to make sense of his now unraveling life.

He awoke in a sweat to the sound of tapping on the cell bars.

“Wake up, princess,” a guard shouted as he passed.  “Chow time.”

The door sprung open and Plugger sat up.  He saw a few inmates shuffle past his cell.  Standing up, he shook off the sleep and followed the line to the chow hall.

Up until this point, Plugger had been aggravated, nervous, and confused.  But now, now he was terrified.

The room was packed with the meanest-looking assortment of criminal tweaks from around the country.  Several glared at him threateningly, others appeared to have even more sinister ideas in mind.  Plugger maintained his distance from the rest of the population, barely able to hold his tray up for the kitchen staff.  One man blew a kiss at Plugger as he ladled on some kind of slop.

Plugger found a seat at an empty table and began wolfing down the food as fast as he could.  He remembered the dinner table as a kid, and how his father would tell him to take his time and stop eating like an inmate.  Mugface would remind him that nobody was going to shank him, so he should chew and use table manners.  Now, his words made even more sense.

Just as Plugger inhaled his last bite, the chow hall grew quiet.  The line cleared as the inmates scattered.  Then Plugger saw him – Predominatrix.  He strutted in with an entourage in tow.  One of them was Doctor Liquidate.

Plugger sighed.  This guy was bad news.  He was the kind to turn on his partners for a penny.  He was indiscriminate in his homicidal proclivities.  Man, woman, child, farm animal – it didn’t matter.  If Predominatrix was in one of his moods, which was most of the time, they were toast.

Slinking down in his seat, Plugger hoped he’d go unnoticed.  The last thing he needed was to be the victim of Predominatrix’s mind-crushing.

But as luck had it, Predominatrix noticed him.  “Boy,” he bellowed, pointing directly at Plugger.  “I haven’t seen you before.”

To Plugger’s surprise, Liquidate came to his defense.

“He’s not worth it,” Liquidate stated.  “He’s just a child they are trying to scare straight.”

Predominatrix grinned.  “I like naughty children.”  He closed the distance and stood before Plugger.  “Dance for me, boy.”

Plugger was scared, but he wasn’t without pride.  Also, with his geek leanings, he never learned how to dance.  There was no way he was subjecting himself to this level of humiliation.

“No thank you, sir,” Plugger replied.

“What!” Predominatrix’s grin melted into a snarl.  “What did you just say to me?”

“I politely declined your request to fucking dance,” Plugger stated.

Predominatrix growled and flipped the table.  Plugger could see him straining, but he couldn’t figure out what he was trying to do.  Then out of nowhere, one of Predominatrix’s lackeys backhanded Plugger across the room into the wall.

Plugger should have stayed down.  He had already made his point.  But there was too much of Mugface in Plugger, and he quickly got to his feet.

“Fuck you,” he barked.  “I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

Two guys were suddenly on him.  Each taking turns landing blows on Plugger.  He fought back, with limited success.  However, the bastards didn’t walk away unscathed.  Guards flooded the chow hall, shooing the inmates back to their cells.  Two scooped Plugger up and dragged him out the door.

They didn’t return him to his cell.  Instead, they dragged him down the corridor.  His body ached and he was bleeding from his nose and mouth.  Finally, after an eternity of fifty feet, Plugger was shoved into a room.  He was expecting some kind of shitty infirmary, but he found himself standing in a state-of-the-art medical laboratory.

A woman in a lab coat stepped forward.  She was stiff and cold in her demeanor.  She scanned Plugger up and down like she was calculating torture strategies on him.

“This one resisted Predom?”  She shook her head.

“Yeah,” a guard replied.  “Told him ‘no’.”

The woman gazed down at a tablet.  “Justus Jazo.  Awful name.  Obviously, your parents were expecting something more heroic.  Well, I wouldn’t expect anything physical with this one.”  Her voice was dry and emotionless.  “But I’ve been surprised before.  We better give him the entire series.”

Plugger had never been self-conscious about his wiry build before.  Sure, he had never been the muscle man that Mugface was, but he was in decent shape or so he thought. Between the beatdown and this woman’s commentary, Plugger was questioning his workout methods.

The table was cold and sent a chill through Plugger’s body as he lay back on it.  The woman hooked a series of instruments to him.  None caused any discomfort, but the experience was still stressful.

For over an hour, he was poked and prodded in virtual silence before the woman made any comment at all.  And that was only when a prison official stepped into the room.

“This one is going to be trouble,” she pronounced.

“Really?” the official asked.  “What’s he got?”

“Heightened IQ and psi resistance.  Who are his parents?”

“A low-life henchman and some mystery woman,” the man answered.  “I imagine he gets it from his mother. His father is null.”

“What did he do?” the woman asked.

“Lie for his father, he’s here on contempt.  Well, you made the big time, Justus.  Welcome to your new life.”

“Ugh,” Plugger groaned.

“Ready to talk?” the official asked.

“I really don’t know anything,” Plugger whimpered.

“Unlikely.”

“Screw you.”

“Guards.”  The official turned to the guards at the door.  “Put him back.  This time let’s put him with somebody.  Who’s one short?”

“We have Fratigue together,” one guard answered.  “They should show him a good time.”

The official nodded.  “Good, do it.”

Plugger was yanked off the table and shoved out the door.  The walk down the hallway was painful, but not as anxiety-ridden and the first time.  Plugger wondered what Fratigue was.

The guards stopped at a cell and pushed Plugger in.  Inside, three men glared at him, one licking his chops as the door slammed shut.

“Mmm, what do we have here?” a massive, hairless, gray man growled.  “The kid that mouthed off to Predom.”

“Yum, lunch.”  A smaller man with orange hair and olive skin giggled.  “Looks like fresh meat.”

The third man sat silently, gazing at Plugger from one of the top bunks.  He had red glowing eyes, and his skin was the color of pink cotton candy.

“I’m Plugger,” Plugger simply stated.  He may as well squealed ‘please don’t hurt me’.

“Plugger, eh?”  The orange-haired guy smirked.  “You know the connotation of that.  They’re gonna ream you.  And good.”  The guy grabbed his own package as drool ran down his chin.  “I may take a shot at you, ‘cause as they say, you have a pretty mouth. But you probably like that kind of thing, a sweet little tidbit like you. Yeah, yeah, yeah–”

“Do you breathe?”  Plugger interrupted.  “Because damn.”

“He’s a speedster,” the gray man stated.  His voice still sounded like a growl.  “He can’t help but talk fast.  Don’t be afraid.  They’re all bark.  So, what are your special talents, Plugger?”

“Until today, nothing.  Now, they say I’m smart and stuff.”

“First test?” the gray guy leaned forward and studied Plugger.  “First crime?”

Plugger shook his head.  “I’m here to shake my tongue loose.  No crime.”

“That is Spasticate,” the glowing-eyed man spoke.  “He’s fast but uncoordinated.  That’s why he’s perpetually incarcerated.”  He pointed at the gray man.  “That’s Elephantine.  He’s strong but slow.   He needs to work on his evasion skills.  That’s why he’s continually detained.  I’m Rubicund.  I manipulate energy.  I work with these cretins and that’s why I find myself in these unacceptable accommodations.”

Plugger grinned.  “My dad used to say a job is only as good as its players.”

“Truth,” Elephantine agreed.

“Why are you agreeing?” Plugger asked.  “He’s saying you’re the reason he got busted.”

Elephantine shrugged.  “We’re used to the blame.  It’s just words.”

“I may have chosen the last job poorly,” Rubicund admitted.  “The trick is picking projects suited to our skills.  Our dynamic usually works.”

“But when we fail, we fail big, big, big!” Spasticate added.  He jumped up and made an exploding sound.  “Boom!  So you said you were smart, what about the stuff?”

“They said I’m psi resistant,” Plugger answered.  “But I never tested it, well I guess ‘til today.  Can I sit down?  Which bunk is mine?”

Rubicund pointed at the empty top bunk and Plugger climbed up to it.

“Psi resistant, so your mama was a ‘path?” Elephantine pondered.  “Psi resistance comes from a psi mother and a non-psi father.”

“Dunno,” Plugger responded.  “She left us before I remember.  Mugface doesn’t talk about her, ever.”

Rubicund smiled.  “Mugface, eh.”  He gave Elephantine a knowing look.  Elephantine nodded.

“What?” Plugged asked.

“Lullababe,” Rubicund replied.

“Huh?”  Plugger glanced over at Rubicund, his face twisted in confusion.  “What the fuck is a Lullababe?”

“Who is Lullababe,” Rubicund corrected.  “And watch your language.”

“Okay, who the fuck is Lullababe?”

“Your mother,” Rubicund stated.

“How would you even know that?” Plugger scoffed.  “I don’t know that.  Does everyone know everybody around here?”

“It’s a tight community.  We keep tabs on each other.  Also, I was there at your conception.   I know your father.  So does El.  I knew Lullababe, too.  It’s a small industry.  We commingle a bit.”

Spasticate giggled.  “Some commingle more than others, like your father.”

Plugger snarled at Spasticate.  “Shut Up.  You don’t even know me.”

Rubicund elaborated.  “We know enough.  Mugface and a bunch of us worked for Conrad and Lullababe on the west coast about twenty years ago.  We were running some action and the money was flowing.  But after a while there were rumors.  Lullababe liked to mingle with the hired muscle, and your father was just her type.  They became close.  She started gaining weight.  Your dad suddenly quit and headed east.  Lullababe disappeared for about six months, returning with nothing but a cockamamy story about getting stranded in Thailand over a passport issue.  Nobody questioned her, but we all knew.  We figured they threw you in an orphanage or sold you to a lab.  Anyway, business dried up after that and we all scattered.”

Plugger buried his face in his hands.  The week kept getting worse by the minute.

“What’s wrong kid?” Elephantine asked.  “You should be happy.  Your mother was kind of a big deal.”

“I’m tired,” Plugger answered.  “This is all too much.  Last week I was worried about exams and now I’m freaking Lullaspawn.  How can I focus on school, even when I do get the fuck out?  I’ll never catch up.”

“Mugface must be rolling in it to cover your tuition.”

Plugger shook his head.  “No, I have grants, which I’ll lose at this rate.”

“Already gone,” Elephantine stated.

“What?!”

“You’re a registered tweak offender now,” Rubicund explained.  “It’s an automatic disqualification from student aid.”

“It’s only contempt!”

“Don’t matter,” Elphantine stated.  “You’re a tweak in Powerdown.  No more grants.  Sorry, kid.”

“Grrr!”

“So why do they call you Plugger?” Spasticate inquired.

Plugger wanted to scream.  Everything was falling apart.  And where the hell was Mugface?

***

Over the next two weeks, the meal beatings became a regular event.  Fortunately, Fratigue was kind enough to stash food for Plugger to eat back at the cell.  They couldn’t intervene, even if they wanted to.  Predominatrix had mind-control powers, and anyone who crossed him became a victim of his suggestions.  Anyone but Plugger, that was.  Hence the constant punishment he received from Predom’s crew.  Predom didn’t like the fact that Plugger was immune.  Rubicund said he suspected that the guards were also egging Predom on to keep Plugger uncomfortable.

Plugger was coming to terms with the fact that his semester was trashed.  He even got used to the fact that his grants were gone.  Once he was out, he’d regroup, get his transcripts and transfer to a cheap school part-time.  With a monkey-ass job, he’d be able to work through it.

Elephantine took a personal interest in trying to bulk Plugger up.  Plugger knew it wouldn’t work, but he let El try.  It was comforting to have someone show positive interest in him.  Plugger found himself missing Mugface badly, but he didn’t dare try to contact him.

In the middle of the third week, Plugger was yanked from his bunk in the middle of the night.  The guards dragged him out of the cell and out to the stinky van.  This time he just went back to sleep as he awaited transport.

Six hours later, he was back before Judge Horn.

“Mr. Jazo, ready to talk yet?”

“Fuck off,” Plugger replied.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, young man,” Horn stated.

Plugger heard a familiar gruff voice laughing behind him.  “I don’t know shit, and neither does the kid.”

Plugger grinned.

“The two of you have been a contemptuous thorn in my side.  I suggest you become more cooperative or the boy goes back in.”

“Don’t bother, Mugface,” Plugger interjected.  “They found out I’m tweaked.  I already lost my grants.”

Mugface shook his head.  “Sorry, Plugger, I really thought you had a chance.”

“It’s okay, I’ll get a Mcjob and do it the hard way.”

“Sure you will, kid.”

Plugger knew what that meant.  That was the same response Mugface gave Plugger when he built the model rocket with leftover firecrackers and expected it to reach the moon.  It meant his dream was dead.

“Companies don’t like to hire convicted criminals,” Horn explained.  “Especially powered ones.”

“You, you ruined my life, why?”  Plugger’s voice was a mere whisper as he choked back tears.

Horn didn’t reply.  But the smug expression on his face faded.

“It’s okay,” Plugger continued.  “I have other options.”

“You still have the world, Plugger, and you always have me.”

Plugger looked back to see his father smiling at him.

The bailiffs dragged Mugface and Plugger out of the courtroom.  Before they separated them, they let them have a moment together.

Mugface leaned forward, touching his forehead to his son’s.  Plugger fought to stop the tears, but one ran down his cheek.  This time it wasn’t school he regretted losing, but his father.  He had no idea when he’d see him again.

“Say hello to Asp when you go in.”

Mugface grinned.  “Yeah, when you go back, people may have some opinions on you and me and where–

“Lullababe.”  Plugger smiled.

Mugface sighed.  “She was something else.  And so are you.”

“Love you, dad.”

“Love you too, Plugger.  Maybe when we get out we’ll go get some ice cream or something.  What was that place you went crazy for as a kid, Dairy Palace?  We’ll go there.”

Plugger laughed.  “Yeah, I used to love that place.  Dairy Palace it is.”

Plugger had a second to watch his father being ushered into the bus to Lighthouse before he was tossed back into the stinky van.  He remembered Liquidate’s offer.  Now, he had new goals.

You can find more of The Margret’s fiction on Amazon. And check out Sci-Fi Lampoon!

Written by 

Also going by the moniker of “Ew! It’s Margret”, Margret “The Margret” Treiber has been voted “most likely to display awkward and inappropriate behavior in public” by a random group of drunks downtown. Besides being odd and writing speculative fiction, Margret serves as editor-in-chief for the speculative humor magazine, Sci-Fi Lampoon. When she’s not writing or working at her day job corrupting technology, she helps her birds break things for her spouse to fix. Her fiction has appeared in a number of publications. Links to her short stories, novels, and upcoming work can be found on her website. You can find a good portion of her work at https://smile.amazon.com/kindle-dbs/entity/author/B0052U63BI. And check out Sci-Fi Lampoon at http://scifilampoon.com/

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