Free Deep Yellow by Stuart Dodds Page A

hard glass walls and ceilings
backed up by hard beam technology. Let’s hope there is no repeat of
the security problems at the last Challenge." She looked into the
cam with a quizzical face.
    "Well, one of the
murderers will win and be given their freedom, but hopefully they
will do it on the Challenge, not by digging a tunnel." Williams
groaned and hit fast forward.
    "This is one of the
inmate’s cells. I’m told it is slightly larger than their normal
prison cells. I don’t have any direct experience of this
obviously."
    Williams laughed. He
remembered years ago when Xerica had a run-in with the Police Corps
when a journalists party got out of hand in Elytia Central. She had
been stunned, bagged, and tagged by the Corps and spent a few hours
in the cells sobering up. Over the next few months, she hunted down
and erased virtually all images of the incident. Still, he might
invite her to the wrap-up party.
    "The inmates have also
been allowed auto chefs inside their cells. This is a better one
than I have in my office. Apparently it took a lot of persuasion
before Prison Corps allowed it, but hey, all bar one of the
challengers will use it for their last meal." Xerica looked
sideways into the camera.
    "Let’s see if it
works. Meal, Garmuldi Steak, small, well cooked." The auto chef lit
up, hummed and a short time later, it chimed ready. Xerica slid
open the meal compartment.
    "Smells good. Let’s
have a taste." She took out the meal and, using one of the safety
knives, cut into the steak and took a small bite.
    "Tastes good. A little
bit of luxury for our inmates. I know that it doesn’t serve intox,
though. However, they do have auto chefs with intox dispensers in
some of the rooms in the holo worlds. So a challenger could drink
themselves to death."
    Williams shook his
head. It was all light-hearted, nothing serious. Xerica was more
than capable of doing serious journalism when required. Perhaps we
could do a little spot on the inmate's favourite meals, what they
have missed over the years. He emptied his beer.
    "Whisky, ten year
malt, small," Williams said as he lit one of his favourite
smokes.
    Williams
fast-forwarded through Xerica following the inmates’ “last” walk
from their cell doors along and then down the lift to the room
containing the entrance doors to the holo worlds.
    "We've just walked out
of the lift and have entered a beautifully decorated room with four
doors set in each wall."
    The Living Room was a
medium sized square room with the lift set in one corner. The walls
were covered in ornate green and white detailed patterns. A large
multi-faceted glass light hung down from the middle of the ceiling
and the floors were of dark wood. Furniture, including a table,
chair, and a low cupboard, all had slightly bowed legs. The four
“doors to the worlds” each had an ornate design that matched the
wall patterns.
    "My media note says,
'In amongst all the wars taking place on Inhab-47, there are
examples of a high culture in the safer parts of the planet.’ This
room, the furniture, and the paintings reflect some of that
culture. So what do we have here?"
    She wandered around
the room, admiringly, if her stare was anything to go by, and
trailed her fingers on the furniture whilst reading from her
notes.
    "This is one of the
paintings. The cloth has been brushed with organic elements. Let's
have a closer look. Well, it is of a woman, presumably a typical
person from Inhab-47. She has a plain face, plump lips, and I am
not sure whether she is smiling. It is static, no moving elements
or holo technology, very basic but yet intriguing.” She walked
across to another painting.
    “And this one looks
like some flowers in a pot in different shades of yellow." She
rubbed her finger across the painting canvas. "You can feel the
thickness of the organic material."
    Williams took a drag
on his smoke. He often used his thumb and forefinger to hold the
weed smoke, something he saw on Inhab-47. Xerica