Robe

Chapter 39

The penitentiary turned out to be a small but sturdy building made entirely of stone blocks. There wasn't a window to be seen on the outside of the structure. Shah and Rusty were placed in a cell with thick, narrowly-spaced iron bars on one side, and a thin smattering of straw on the ground. As they were walked into the confinement, Shah gave one of the thick bars a flick with his finger. The bar bent with a loud ping!, and the Hepsguard jumped back.

Shah held his hands up. "Do not be concerned, Hepsguard. I am just assessing the security of your holding pen."

"By the Highest, he bent it with one finger!" one of the guards exclaimed, and Shah chuckled. Sure did, he thought. He was also acutely aware that, at some stage, he would need to do a full assessment of why this place was... what was the word Sonic used? Ah, that was it: 'Soft'.

They had their bindings removed, although both Shah and Rusty knew they were able to 'remove' the glowing rope themselves, and without much effort, either. Interestingly, the moment the cell gate clanged shut, civilians began crowding into the penitentiary, gathering outside the cell, but held back by the Hepsguard standing to attention. Shah wondered whether it was a vigilante mob, but the onlookers were not roused up, it seemed. Perhaps the arrival of not just one but two outsiders was a good enough reason for curiosity.

"Holy hector," Rusty said, observing the growing crowd.

"Yah. We're zoo animals here, man."

"You don't say," Rusty replied, and went over to one corner of the cell. He sat, resting his back against the wall, and pushed his gunk-matted hair back with one hand. "What a day."

Shah turned to him. "You've had it rough, huh."

"Actually, mate, it hasn't been half-bad."

"Glad to hear." Shah went over to the opposite corner, took the Rig off his back, and sat cross-legged, placing the weapon over his knees. "You're getting used to this place, then?"

"I wouldn't say that, but I've stopped thinking too hard about it, yeah?"

"That would help. But you probably want to know what's going on, too?"

Rusty sighed, tipping his head back to rest against the stone. The action put a small crack in the wall, but he didn't notice. "Yeah, I guess," he replied, looking evenly at Shah. "Where are you from, anyhow? You sound like a pom."

Shah nodded. "Raised in England, yah," he replied, "but I was born in Tehran."

"Okay."

"You know where Tehran is?"

"Nope."

"It's the capital of Iran."

"Ah, right."

"Do you know where Iran is?"

Rusty took his time with this. "Nope."

"It's a country in the Middle East. And... you do know where the Middle East is, right?"

"Yeah, I'm not like, totally stupid, mate," Rusty said. He wasn't about to admit he thought 'Middle-East' was a type of food.

"Not sure if you're going to believe the next bit, though," Shah continued.

"What's that?"