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stopped again. After a short, expectant pause, I felt a vibration indicating movement. It was much more pronounced than before, telling me that I was either on a much smaller vessel or located nearer the drives.
    Still, another five interminable days—fifteen meals—passed before we reached our destination. Long, certainly, but also fast for a sublight carrier, probably a modified and totally automated freighter. Then the vibrations stopped and I knew we were in orbit. Again I had those mixed feelings of trapped doom and exhilaration.
    There was a crackling sound and a speaker I’d never even known was there came to life.
    “Attention all prisoners!” it commanded; the voice was a metallic parody of a man’s baritone. “We have achieved orbit around the planet Medusa in the Warden system.” Nothing I didn’t know, but the announcement was, I reflected, probably telling the others, however many there were, for the first time. I could understand what they must be going through, although, I was lucky to be going in with my eyes open even if no more voluntarily.
    “In a moment,” the voice continued, “the doors to your cells will slide open and you will be able to leave. We strongly recommend you do so, since thirty seconds after the doors open they will close again and a vacuum pump will begin sterilization operations within the cells which would be fatal to anyone who remains.”
    Nice touch, I thought. Not only did that insure against breakouts en route, you moved or you died on their schedule. I couldn’t help wonder whether anybody chose death.
    “Immediately after you enter the main corridor,” the voice continued, “you will stand in place until the cell doors close. Do not attempt to move from in front of your cell door until it closes or automatic guard equipment will vaporize you. There will be no talking in the corridor. Anyone breaking silence or failing to obey orders precisely will be dealt with instantly. You will receive further instructions once the doors close. Ready to depart—now!”
    The door slid open, and I wasted no time in stepping out. A small white box, complete with marks for feet, indicated where you were to stand. I did as instructed, galling as all this was. There was something to being totally naked and isolated on a ship controlled only by computer that humbled you more than was right. I experienced a sense of total futility.
    I could still look around and realized that I’d been right. The place where we stood was basically a long sealed hall along whose sides the little cells had been attached. I looked up and down and counted maybe ten or twelve, no more. The cream of the crop, I thought sourly. A handful of men and women, naked and bedraggled, beaten prisoners now, about to be dropped off and left. I wondered why my companions had been chosen rather than wiped, considering the transportation costs alone. What had the computers and psych boys found in these dejected specimens that dictated that they should live? They didn’t know, that was for sure. I wondered exactly who did.
    The doors snapped shut. I waited expectantly, perhaps to hear the scream of somebody who didn’t move fast enough as the air was pumped out, but there was no hint of melodrama. If anybody had taken that way out, it was not evident.
    “At my command,” the voice barked from speakers along the ceiling, “you will turn right and walk, slowly, in single file, as far forward as you can. There you will find a special shuttle that will bring you to the surface.
    You will take seats from front to back, leaving no empty seats between you, and immediately strap yourselves in.”
    I heard some muttering from a couple of my fellow prisoners. Instantly a brief but very visible spurt of light from a side wall hit with an audible hiss just in front of the offenders’ feet. They jumped slightly at this demonstration of power, but all the grumbling and mumbling ceased.
    The voice had paused for this interruption,