So of them, not many, were going to refuse to go. They were going try to make a break for it, charging a point in our circle of guards to break through to the exit. They would fail, I knew, but it would be a poor start. I sent a silent command to Joe.
Ready the LITVs. When they agree to go, send them imdiately, two at a ti.
I stepped forward to stand next to ’Diaz.’ He was also looking at the n with so concern.
"Your families will be safe. They’ll have everything they need here. We’ll arrange for you to call them weekly and talk to them. As soon as you get to the new facility, we’ll take their nas and the last place you know they were. We’ll use everything we have to get them here safely. If you’re ready, form a line. This way." I indicated the way toward the office door.
Three n sitting together looked at each other then slowly stood up and walked forward. The first two vanished. A second later the third disappeared. Murmurs increased. I raised a hand for their attention. "The sa way we brought you here, they’ve been sent to the administration center to fill out the forms, get their cell assignnts, and choose the vocational training they want while they serve out their sentences. Who’s next? Another man stood, then another. They both disappeared.
OK, I thought in my head, that’s five gone, fourteen left not counting Maldonado. Those thinking about fighting their way out were seeing their odds get worse. A minute ago, it was nineteen or twenty to the 13 of us. Now, it was fifteen or fourteen to thirteen. Another man stood up and disappeared. I looked at Maldonado, "Ready?"
"Yes," he replied and winked out. We stashed him in the office for now. The others were being sent to holding cells on Blue Island equipped with simulation rooms. There, they would experience appearing in a lobby, in front of a desk with a guest chair waiting, and a man behind the desk (the sa man for all of them) motioning them to have a seat. He would confirm their nas, have them fill out so forms about any family mbers they wanted to protect, food preferences, dical needs, past employnt history, any particular type of work they wanted to train for, prior education, and so on. Then, they would experience being conducted to their cells.
anwhile, the count was now twelve prisoners to our thirteen. One of the scowlers, slamd a fist on the table in front of him. "What if we don’t want to go?"
I smiled sympathetically, "I understand. No one wants to go to prison, even if it’s a comfortable place. Unfortunately, when you decided to lead a life of cri, especially of such serious cris involved in the drug cartel life, you already made the decision to go to prison at so point. You’re all going. I’m giving you the opportunity to accept the consequences of your own actions with honor."
Two more stood up and winked out. A man with a recently broken nose and badly bruised face, looked at the defiant one, "I’m not going to fight this. It’s a damn sight better than where we were." He stood up and was gone. Nine left. Four more exchanged glances then stood. Two disappeared, then, as Joe brought the personal-sized LITV booths in around them, the other two were transported away. There were only five left against thirteen, at least ten of whom stood with a confidence that suggested they wouldn’t have worried if all twenty had resisted.
"Fuck," said the man who had slamd his hand down, "I’ll fucking go." He stood up and another one was gone. The last four stood up reluctantly and were transported away.
Joe, when you bring in the families, use simulation rooms to make it seem like they’re being brought here by helicopter. Let’s keep the list of people who see us performing magic to a minimum.
Acknowledged.
If you can, buy each relocated family a plot of land and a house, or a city apartnt if they prefer... Give them each one of our phones that connects through you. Figure out how to put them to work at sothing they’ll find satisfying.
Acknowledged.
With the prisoners gone, our guards fell out of their encircling position and moved in closer. "Good work tonight, gentlen. We’re going to head back to Guatemala City. Marco," I addressed one of the guards, "You have a car waiting for us?"
One of the paramilitaries stepped forward, "Yes, sir. It’s parked at the side."
"Excellent, we’ll just pick up Mr. Diaz and let’s get going. The rest of you close up the place when you leave. We’ll send soone back to clean up the tables later."
"I’ll stay and take care of that," Joe’s android said. I shrugged, Dad and I walked back to the office where Maldonado was waiting.
We walked back into the simulated office and found Maldonado rifling through desk drawers. They were all empty.
"Find anything good?" I asked.
"Not a thing," he replied.
"If you’re ready to head to the embassy, we’ve got a car waiting outside."
He shrugged, "Sure, let’s go."
We walked outside and got into the car. Dad sat up front with Marco, while Maldonado and I got in the back. I almost knocked my too tall android head against the door fra as I climbed in.
"You’re still not going to tell how you did that teleportation thing, are you?" Maldonado asked as the car pulled onto the street and began the long trek back to Guatemala City.
"Teleportation?" I asked, "That’s crazy talk."
"Why never more than two at a ti? Power constraints?" He asked.
Well, I thought to myself, that’s what I want you to believe, but we could’ve done all twenty easily. "Two can play at your ga: I don’t know anything about teleportation."
"How far away is the new prison? Must be closer than Guatemala City if you can’t transport us that far..."
"I don’t know anything about teleportation. I prefer to call it a rehabilitation center, and its location must remain... undisclosed," I answered.
The rest of the drive was uneventful as Maldonado kept fishing for information about who we were, how we did what we did, why we did what we did, what country we were from, and anything else he thought would be useful. I did my best not to reveal anything that I didn’t want him to know.
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