A sudden jolt snapped Nik back into consciousness, his head throbbing where it had collided with the metal box. He attempted to take in his surroundings, only to be blinded by floodlights when the transport truck's flaps were ruthlessly yanked open. Shadowy figures clambered into the back, treating the occupants like cargo. Nik was no exception.

  He was thrown out the back, where he hit icy gravel with a painful crunch. Before he could address the pain, rough hands hoisted him to his feet and yanked the bag off his head. The blinding light and headache made everything blurry. Nik couldn't tell where he was. All he heard were more voices.

  "This one looks different," a surly feminine voice spoke. "He's too clean-cut."

  "Fine, send him back. I'll deal with him when we finish welcoming the new arrivals," another voice replied. Whoever it was sounded bored.

  The zip-ties bit into Nik's wrists beneath a firm, unyielding grip. A shiver of fear slithered up his spine as the cold steel of a gun barrel pressed menacingly into the flesh between his shoulders.

  "Move," the female voice grunted. As he was ushered forward, Nik's vision, blurred by the harsh floodlights, gradually focused. The ominous silhouette of a massive, fortified structure loomed ahead. It must have been a prison blockhouse in a previous life.

  Along with searchlights, it also had heavy machine gun fortifications. Was this some kind of headquarters? Nik couldn't be sure.

  He passed into a large room full of STMs and communications equipment. It still surprised him every time he found an STM outside his knowledge. The technology had spread too fast.

  "Don't stop," the voice behind growled. Nik glanced back to see a heavyset woman. She had luxurious dark hair, and her face would have been lovely without the acne covering her chin. Nik didn't spend too much time looking.

  "In here," she grunted while steering Nik into a relatively empty room with a deep, concrete channel running through it. "Get in."

  Nik was confused but did what he was told. With a resigned sigh, he inched closer to the edge of the channel, the bindings on his hands making the descent treacherous. Attempting to steady himself, he lost balance, tumbling into the chilly depths with an undignified thud. There was no way for him to get back out by himself. He started to feel uneasy.

  The woman moved back and pushed a button on the wall. The grumbling of a motor could be heard as a grate scraped its way across the channel overhead, further trapping Nik inside. His uneasiness became fear. The woman waited silently. Nik looked around, trying to find a way out. There were sliding metal doors on either end of the channel he stood in. He looked back to see the woman picking at her chin. What was about to happen?

  “Such a paltry shipment.” The bored voice from earlier returned with a presence. A figure moved into view. Through the grating, Nik discerned a man with a gleaming, bald head and a trench coat worn by many years of duty. His eyes, cold and calculating, were fixed on Nik. "Has he said anything?"

  His voice was casual yet compelling. It was the voice of a man used to getting his way. The woman shook her head. He stepped onto the grate with a predatory grace, looking down at his prey between worn leather shoes.

  "Do you understand me?" he asked. Nik nodded silently. "Good, then allow me to introduce myself. I am Warden Maks, but you will only address me as Nadziratel or Warden if the pronunciation is an issue. You've surely realized by now that you're not in an advantageous position." Nik shifted uncomfortably. He had no idea what they were planning.

  "So, to keep things simple. I will ask you questions, and your role is to answer them. I would prefer that you comply with simple, truthful answers. You will prefer that, too." Nik's mind was scrambling. What was this psycho's deal?

  "Where do you come from?" the warden asked. The business-like tone in his voice was a thin mask over cruel intent. He walked to the edge of the room, where he grabbed a metal stool. He let it screech across the floor until it was situated where he could comfortably watch Nik. Warden Maks removed his trench coat, revealing a pudgy body in an old, stained sweater with dark overalls. After draping the fur on the stool, he sat down casually.

  Nik stammered, caught off guard, "Umm..."

  The warden smirked, an unpleasant curl at the corner of his lips. "Unsatisfactory," he judged, casting a glance at the woman.

  With a nod of assent, she pulled on a lever. The result was immediate – the two imposing doors slid open at either end of the channel, and a sudden surge of icy water came rushing in. Nik's feet became ice cold the moment the water submerged his shoes.

  "The former United States," Nik shouted in panic.

  "Thank you," the warden said in his same bored tone. "A long way from home, aren't we?" he said. "Not that it matters anymore since people can pop up anywhere nowadays." Nik didn't really know how to respond.

  "What is your name, traveler?" he asked suddenly.

  "I..." He frantically tried to think of a response.

  "Come on now, let's not drag this out." The warden nodded again. The gates raised further, letting the frigid water rush up Nik's thighs. He felt his muscles clench instinctively.

  "Edy!" Nik shouted the first name that came to his head.

  "Is Eddie short for something?" he asked. "Preferably, a last name would be helpful."

  "Edy is short for Aydin. I'm Aydin Sai," Nik lied. He prayed that they would believe him.

  "Sai?" The warden raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't happen to have any relatives named Ariel back from the old states, would you?" Nik felt his throat clench. These people knew who Ari was?

  "Please, I don't have much time to waste," the warden pressed. "Let's speed this up a bit.” He stood from his stool and toddled over to the woman, who quickly stood aside. "Aydin and Ariel. Sounds like they could be the names of two siblings." As he spoke, he pulled the lever steadily downward.

  The water began gradually rising, making Nik double down in seizure-like shivers.

  "Where is Ariel Sai?" The warden's voice hardened, the monotone now replaced by a chilling hunger.

  "I...I d-don't know an Ah-Ariel," Nik stuttered, his words coming out in desperate gasps as the icy water numbed his senses, a frigid band tightening around his chest. His breaths were reduced to sporadic, panicked huffs, each more labored than the last.

  "I'll ask you one last time. Where is Dr. Ariel Sai?" the warden spat venomously.

  "I don't know who she is!" Nik spurted as the glacial water began to reach his face.

  "She?" A flicker of surprise crossed the warden's face, followed quickly by disappointment. He released an exasperated sigh and, rolling his eyes, pushed the lever back up. He pressed another button, opening a drain below Nik. As the water level receded, Nik felt his body ache with chills. He stumbled back to the wall when his legs nearly collapsed underneath him.

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  "He's just another wanderer." The warden sounded bored again. "Process him and observe. If he says anything useful, let me know." Warden Maks put his coat back on and left without looking at Nik.

  Ten minutes later, Nik was ushered through a row of small wooden buildings. He was still taking short, hard breaths after being driven back into the cold while soaking wet. He was stopped in front of a building that resembled a makeshift shed. The guard presiding over it pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door.

  "Strip down," the woman ordered. Humiliated and freezing, Nik reluctantly complied. He didn’t know what was worse: his clothes' numbing iciness or the raw sting of the wintry air. The guard reappeared, thrusting a set of pale blue cottons into Nik’s hands.

  “Your uniform,” he grunted with a tone matching the gray sky. The paper-thin fabric was just enough to cover the skin and offer an illusion of protection. A pair of drab shoes thudded before Nik. Laceless, bareboned, stripped of all comfort, they would have fit if Nik had been a foot shorter.

  “Blanket.” The guard's next word fell heavily into silence, accompanying the coarse green fabric as it tumbled onto the snow beside him. “One. No more,” his grim words a foreboding warning.

  Nik acted quickly, shrugging into the ‘uniform’ as if speed could outrun the chill. The harsh texture of the fabric grazed his skin, offering a new, irritating form of cold. He squashed his feet into the tight shoes, wincing as the inlined metal cut into his wet flesh. Nik stooped to rescue the dampening blanket from the snowmelt. Its icy fibers were unforgiving against his hand. It was the only barrier he had now against the brutality of his new existence.

  "Keep moving," the woman commanded. While Nik shuffled onward through the shantytown, she pointed out the sites.

  "Those are the latrines and showers. They are mixed-gender and monitored at all times. You will be permitted one two-minute shower per week." Nik assumed that the water was just as cold as everything else.

  "This is the kitchen. You will rotate cooking and cleaning duties. No one is permitted more than one ration. Violators will be disciplined strictly." Nik saw a small line of people with bowls and spoons lined up outside a tiny window. The opening at the window's base was just large enough for a ladle to reach through. The contents it dumped into the waiting bowls resembled an unappetizing greyish sludge.

  "There's the medical office." She pointed to a tiny shack that appeared unable to serve even a sniffle. "Next to it, you will see the workshed." A guard stood at the locked entrance of a concrete shed. This is where you will be issued your necessary tools for the mine."

  "Mine?" Nik thought. What were they mining?

  "Last is the common quarters." You will be assigned a bunk where you will remain when not gainfully employed. If you must leave the quarters for any reason, you will first acquire permission from the designated quarter's guard."

  Nik nodded. After giving him one last sour look, the woman pulled out a clipboard. "You are assigned to bunk 39. You have exactly two minutes to find it, deposit your equipment, and return here. Any delay will result in corrective action equivalent to your timetable," she said, starting a stopwatch.

  Without wasting a moment, Nik scuffled into the dingy living area. He saw dozens of people waiting at their bunks in various states of dishevelment.

  "Three minutes of corrective action!"

  Nik turned in time to see a pair of sentries begin to beat a woman to the ground in the corner of the room. The guard, who looked like he was in command, turned back to face the onlookers.

  "Theft of equipment from other prisoners will be strictly disciplined," he proclaimed. His two subordinates began kicking the whimpering woman while she tried curling into the corner as tightly as possible. The guard started to eye Nik, so he quickly carried on through the rows of bunks.

  Nik's eyes caught another furtive movement; a prisoner was sifting through the pockets of his apparently sleeping bunkmate. The unsettling truth dawned on Nik when he saw a fly crawl nonchalantly over the man's lifeless, open eye. Hurrying forward, Nik spotted a bunk with the number 39 crudely painted onto the metal railing. A lump caught in his throat at the sight of rust-colored blood stains marring the old mattress. He shook off the chilling questions of its previous occupant.

  Nik's eyes darted around to see if anybody was watching. It was hard to tell, but everyone seemed preoccupied with the woman being beaten in the corner. Nik took the opportunity to tuck his blanket underneath his mattress before quickly rushing back out.

  When he saw the short woman again, she grunted and tucked away her pocket watch. The clipboard bounced off her hip as she brusquely walked away. The guard at the door jabbed the butt of his rifle into Nik's back, almost sending him tumbling down the wooden steps. Managing to catch himself, Nik glanced back to see the cold eyes of the sentry. His gnarled face twisted into a wolfish grin. Nik quickly decided to catch up to the woman.

  She led him to the far end of the camp, where he found a shack built out of the face of the overlooking mountains. Nik could see a platform surface from a deep underground shaft through its large open entrance. A dozen prisoners had just stepped out. When they saw the woman, many bent forward awkwardly as they left. Nik didn't understand.

  "This will be your primary work site unless instructed otherwise. You will have the proper equipment to mine and a light source. Only those who display high levels of productivity will earn the privilege of a safety helmet.”

  "What are we mining for?" Nik ventured, only to be answered with a sharp slap from a heavy glove. Despite her small stature, she packed a surprising amount of force."

  "First," the woman barked. She produced a baton from her belt and jabbed it into Nik's stomach with a swift, practiced motion. He doubled over and vomited onto the rocky ground. "You will only speak when we require a response. Second, you are a miner now. That means you adhere to customary miner posture, which leads me to my favorite rule." She leaned down towards Nik and spoke in a low growl. Her breath smelled foul.

  "You are no longer allowed to be taller than Overseer Toma." A wicked smile broke out across her acne-riddled mouth. She stuck her baton under his chin and raised his face to see hers. "Get it?" Nik nodded meekly.

  She stared him down for another moment before snapping her fingers. Another hunched prisoner hurried over. Toma snatched the pickaxe he was carrying.

  "You are done for the day. Attend to your evening tasks." The other prisoner darted off towards the main encampment without saying a word.

  "I let him off early, so you'll have to finish his shift in addition to your own." Toma's grin grew wider. "Now get in the lift." She pointed to the mountain.

  Clutching his gut, Nik accepted the pickaxe from her outstretched fist. His attention shifted to the dark maw hewn into the side of the mountain. Barely visible in the gloomy light, Nik made out the somber, ghost-like faces of the miners waiting inside. Hunching like the rest of the prisoners, Nik moved as quickly as he could to the elevator. Feeling the edges of the shaft grating his feet, Nik turned back to see overseer Toma closing the large building doors.

  "See you in a couple days," she said sinisterly. As the final slivers of light were snuffed into darkness, the chilling clank of a heavy chain and the cold snap of a lock echoed ominously in the hollowness around him.

  A seemingly endless moment later, the elevator shuddered and groaned to life, the rusty machine winch echoing its own dirge as it began the grim task of lowering him and the other condemned souls into the abyss.

  Lower and lower, they creaked. Nik's eyes darted around, his frantic gaze seeking any sign of light or life, but the all-consuming blackness remained impenetrable. After another minute, Nik began to hear metallic sounds. Ka-chink, ka-chink.

  A dim light rose from his feet. A moment later, the elevator squealed to a rough halt. As the shaft doors groaned open, Nik was confronted by a dimly lit tunnel. Its low and rugged paths splintered deep into the bowels of the mountain. Small lights dangled from the tunnel walls, giving everything an eerie orange glow. The prisoners began to shuffle forward, and Nik followed closely behind.

  "You!" a gruff voice echoed. Nik’s eyes swung around to find a guard lazily slouched in a chair, a heavy shotgun slung nonchalantly across his lap. "Here. Now." He motioned for Nik to stand before him. Nik wended through the uncomfortable tunnel to the hokey-looking guard.

  "I hear tell it’s yo' first shift." The guard's accent surprised Nik. He wanted to ask where he was from but decided to nod silently instead. The man eyed him before hitting a switch on a strange container bin. It opened to reveal a glassy interior. "Whenever you fill your 'barrow, you come back and dump it in 'ere, got it?"

  Nik nodded. The grim realization of their purpose settled heavily on his shoulders. The bin in front of him wasn't a bin but a different kind of STM. People would take their minerals and toss them in the STM, which would then convert the matter to energy. The prisoners were being used to harvest power.

  "Oh, and 'ere's a tip. The deeper ya go, the better the rock, but be careful 'cause it gets dark an' dangerous." He grinned much like the woman above.

  "What was with these people and their evil smiles?" Nik thought.

  "Now off." Nik didn't need to be told twice. As he began finding his way down the tunnel, Nik couldn't help but shake his head. He understood what they were after, but digging for regular minerals like coal was more or less pointless. Unless they were searching for radioactive minerals, the power consumed by the RCP to convert mass to energy would negate most of their efforts.

  Was this the site of an abandoned uranium mine? Where was the machinery? Nik already knew the answer. He was the machinery. After several more minutes of delving further into the Earth, Nik found a relatively unmarked spot.

  "Cancer isn't so bad, right?" Nik thought as he swung the pickaxe down.