"I want to Break Free,
I want to Breeeeaaak free,
I want, I want, I Want to BREEEEAAAAAKKK FREEEEEE"
The Human, as a species renowned for their ability to improvise and thoroughly mess with the plans of many a pirate, had been confined to a specially designed clear polymer box. With small vents high in the roof of the structure, only the single access point and TWO guards stationed far enough away that noxious gasses and liquids emitted by the human would not be a danger to the pirates.
Thus it couldn't escape, and we knew it. IT knew it. so it sat, or paced in its confines, occasionally flailing about, its deadly appendages striking temporary poses of both defiance and submission. Wailing, not in Galstand, or even Galsimple, its weird, terrifying, beautiful and irritating all at once.
" I hear the train a-coming,
It's rolling round the bend"....
Oh no, its starting again! -- Adam From Darwin
The cell followed every letter of the law. Sanitation in the form of a one-person cleansing booth - check. Bedding in the form of a standard sleep niche - check. Nutritionally balanced food with all essential dietary requirements, check. Access to clean air, clean water, and a clean environment - check. The space was, to the milllidu[1] precisely the dimensions of a standard habitation unit for one person. The regulation air-recycling garden, though attached enough to recirculate the air, was the right size too. There were two guards, stationed outside, ready for any kind of emergency.
They had followed every single letter of the law. The walls were all transparent, so the prisoner could be supervised at all times. Cleaning was done by nanomachines. Companionship was in the form of a Skitty who was also provided the letter of basic care. Entertainment occurred as a series of restored archivaas material that was free for anyone to access. The viewer was one of those models that could not possibly be harmed, not even by throwing it into a star[2].
The letter didn't say a single thing about being able to control the entertainment, being able to communicate with the guards beyond obvious signs of distress, or having anything else to do once in there. It was day three and the Human trapped inside it had only recently stopped mouthing along with the documentary on spores, moulds, and fungus. They had also stopped trying to argue with the guards, though they had seemingly worked out that those guards could hear them.
Shortly after that, the prisoner started singing. Every song they remembered. Every song they half-remembered. The ones where they forgot how they ended[3]. During every waking hour that wasn't otherwise occupied.
They sang their mood. They sang everything they could remember, including a timeless apparently-classic about an intsy-wintsy spider. If they had known the song that never ended, then things might have ended a lot quicker. As it was, someone arrived in less than a Standard Week, to complain about how the Human had driven the guards to the point of psychological breakdown.
"So," said the Human. "Nobody's explained why I'm in here, and what's going on. Last thing I remember, I was fighting off a bunch'a you assholes so my crew could get out. How'd you catch me alive?"
"I ask the questions here," said the newcomer.
The Human made themself comfortable and allowed the Skitty to settle into their lap. "Ooh, this is gonna be good..."
Three days later, the Human was winging their way towards the piece of civilisation where their crew would be waiting. Nobody was exactly sure what happened, and the Human told it differently every time, but one thing was certain.
When a Human says, Don't make me sing, take it as a threat.
[1] one one-thousandth of a Standard Distance Unit.
[2] Of course, some Humans have tried that.
[3] There are surprisingly many Human songs with Moebius Lyrics.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Morganka]
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