Free Wolf Block by Stuart J. Whitmore

Chapter One
    “You don’t want to go down there, Bunny,” Nongma said with a derisive laugh.
    Bunierti scowled. “Call me Bunny again,” she snarled, “and you might wake up tomorrow with the last drops of your blood spattering onto the floor under your bunk.”
    Nongma laughed again. “Sensitive, are we? You want to put up a tough front, but you’re nothing here. You haven’t earned the right to be treated as somebody yet. By the look of you, you never will. But hey, go on down there. You’ll walk in. You’ll disappear like the others. And me? Me, I’ll just be glad to be rid of you so quickly and cleanly.”
    Bunierti stood up and pointedly turned her back on Nongma. “I don’t need to prove myself to scum like you.”
    The other woman leapt up. In the span of a heartbeat, she had the sharp point of her collector pressed against the small of Bunierti’s back. “Call me scum again. Do it.”
    Bunierti’s voice was flat as she answered, “Sit back down unless you want to die right here and right now, and let this be the last time you even think of threatening me.”
    Instead of feeling the collector pull away, Bunierti felt a slight prick as the weapon pierced her uniform and jabbed into her skin. Swiftly and almost silently, Bunierti outmaneuvered Nongma, bringing the other woman down on her back with Bunierti straddling her. Nongma’s collector clattered to the tile floor, while Bunierti’s own collector jabbed forcefully under Nongma’s chin, just shy of drawing blood.
    “Stop, please,” Nongma said through her teeth, her jaw moving only minimally.
    “If I was going to kill you, you’d be dead right now,” Bunierti said with saccharine exaggeration. “And I know I’d get away with it, because I’m not street scum like you, and I can buy whatever lawyers I want. But I don’t want the hassle right now. So we’ll leave it at this, but don’t you ever forget that I spared you once and I already consider that one time too many. Understood?”
    “Yeah,” Nongma assented after a moment.
    “Nod your head when you say that,” Bunierti said, one corner of her lips turning up in a sneer.
    Nongma hesitated and then complied. “Yeah,” she said, giving a slight nod. It was not slight enough. Bunierti’s collector punctured her skin, and a thin trickle of blood flowed down along the collector toward the microfunnel. A sample of Nongma’s blood was automatically collected, as they both knew would happen, and a large data set describing the events leading up to that moment were immediately sent wirelessly to the nearest infohub.
    “I’m somebody, by the way,” Bunierti smirked as she stood up to let Nongma free. “And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t hesitate to go down to Sector W84-88D, your so-called ‘Wolf Block.’ Childish rumors are not going to scare me off. The only reason the prisoners down there get away with anything is the dereliction of duty by superstitious cretins like you.”
    Nongma quickly stood, pressing the palm of one hand against her chin. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she remained silent and, after retrieving her collector, went to sit on her bunk. The room the two shared was small and spartan, offering the barest of comforts. Decorations were forbidden, as were excess comfort items. Technically, they were “at ease” in their room, unlike almost every moment spent out of it, but ease was a relative term. Bunierti knew real ease from her youth, and she looked forward to returning to it later. If she survived.
    A harsh beep sounded in the room, alerting them to an incoming message. They both stood to face the screen by the door, snapping to attention before the display powered up. The woman on the screen was an animation, her appearance and her computer-rendered surroundings never changing. “Violation noted,” the animated woman intoned. “Section 4-C-120-R. Interpersonal violence between Upholders for purposes other than Upholding is prohibited.