The Fringe Wars

2.9

Critch made eye contact with Luther. The man's gaze narrowed briefly before he shook off whatever thought he'd had and returned his attention to the woman.

"I've been keeping an eye out," Chutt began, his rough-voiced whisper sounding like sandpaper. "And, the drones stay off our backs. It wouldn't be too hard for someone who really knows demolitions to make some serious product here."

"Someone just like you, I'd wager," Critch said softly before taking a bite out of the oily, chewy loaf that tasted a little of nuts and a lot of nothing.

Chutt hefted his ration. "Take this brick, for instance. It's got enough philoseed in it that if you rolled out a decent length and dried it out, you'd have a flexible wick. Steam the soap and you have yourself highly combustible gas. I've seen plenty of usable containers around here that are being used for moonshine."

Critch considered for a moment. "You could build a bomb for the generator."

"Of course. And building an EMP for the overall prison will be even easier. All I need is at least four of those humidifying coils in the showers to extend the range of this little baby." He held up his forearm where the micro-EMP had been implanted.

"That won't be easy. Then again, things never are. So, you'd work on Plan D while I scout the generator situation?" Chutt's personal favorite plan was Plan D, which stood for Plan Destroy. Critch liked having more than one plan. The more options available meant the better their chance at succeeding.

Chutt's lip curled upward. "I tell you, it'll work. I've had plenty of time to work out the details in my head. We could have everything set to blow and then call Seda for pickup. If things hit the shitter, we just call Seda for pickup and then go through with his fancy plan."

"It could work." Critch thought about his friend's idea. If they took down the Citadel from the inside, the CUF would be none the wiser that he or Seda were involved. Seda's plan, on the other hand, guaranteed the CUF would know the prisoners had outside help and would send in plenty of heat, making it a challenge to leave Terra quietly.

Chutt shrugged. "Hell, we've been in here six days, and I'm already dying from boredom. I can't even pass the time with sex because I can tell you I haven't been here near long enough for any of the women around here to look attractive."

"How soon can you make it happen? Whatever we do, we need to get it done and get out of here fast. I don't think we can keep avoiding the gangs trying to recruit us, and I get the feeling they don't take rejection well."

"I could have the bomb built tomorrow and the EMP the next day, assuming you create a diversion when I go for the coils."

"A diversion I can handle."

"So what do you think?"

Critch glanced over at Luther before turning back to Chutt. He tore off a portion of his loaf, made sure he wasn't in the line of any drone's sight, and slid it over to Chutt. "Let's do it."

Chutt grinned and grabbed the extra food and smashed it into his loaf. He stood. "I think I'll go get myself some supplies so I can start making my toys tonight."

Critch stood. "Meet here fifteen before shift change to debrief. I need to scout out the generators. If you don't need my EMP, I'll put it to use."

Chutt waved him off. "Have fun with it."

The men separated. Chutt headed off to the showers while Critch headed to the alley that led to a door that no prisoner was allowed to go through—alive, anyway. It was the "back door," the one where all deceased prisoners were brought for incineration. It was also the only door Critch knew wasn't locked.