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forest and send a message to the rebels. Twice in the past he had contacted them and asked them to be alert.  His contacts had become impatient and told him they would charge him for every additional false alarm. Nevertheless he sent the message again. He was sure this time.
     

    Two days had passed since Anigram’s visit to the cell. Once a day someone slid synthetic food through the slot in the door. Their meals consisted of tasteless carbohydrates and proteins blocks. Dug tried to mix them to create different tastes but other than giving him something to do, his efforts were wasted.
    Thoughts of escape never left my mind. Even during, the second night in the cell, I found myself completely awake, my head filled with ideas. I didn't mention the escape to my brothers anymore. I guess I was in shock when they first brought us in. Now it seemed stupid of me to talk to them about the urgency of finding a way out.  They had given up. There was nothing they could do about it. I, on the other hand, couldn’t think of anything else.
    I lay on my bed above Daio. The cell was dark, but from time to time, I opened my eyes and looked around hoping for inspiration. I could see some details of the cell, but really how stimulating can a steel, echoing cell be? Even the chairs and table were bolted to the floor.
    I wondered how quick the trial and the sentencing would be. Not very long, I assumed. It would be tomorrow or at most the day after, unless they decided to interrogate us beforehand. If they did they would soon learn it was all me. Surely they would want to know how I did it. I would have. If this smart database, Shor, were so important they would need to find out how they could protect it from future attacks.
    I went back to wondering for a second if I was completely wrong and this whole idea was just a figment of my wild imagination. I shook off this thought and went back to thinking about the escape. It's hard to plan an escape from a place when you don't know the layout.  Someone once said that brilliant ideas don't just pop into our minds without proper preparation. One needs to stimulate the mind, to think about the problem he is facing, to think about the surroundings, and to give the mind all the available tools. You need to give the unconscious mind free rein to find creative solutions. When it works, sometimes an idea you never could have come up with, suddenly pops into the conscious mind.
    The only thing that popped into my mind just then was a new wave of foul odor from the nearby cell. A disgusted feeling rose within me. I turned to the side and fell asleep thinking about the escape. 
    The smell was in my head when I suddenly woke up with an escape plan. Sometimes I dream of things that are completely logical, but when I awake in the morning they turn out to be ridiculously unrealistic.  The idea was completely crazy but made some sense, yet I still wasn't sure I was fully awake.
    I opened and closed my eyes several times but in the darkness my state of consciousness was still unclear. Were the cells identical? Was their opening mechanism the same? I closed my eyes and thought through the escape steps, but they were complete conjecture. Beyond the idea for how to get out of the cell, I didn't really know what would follow.
    I sank into my thoughts and fell asleep. I woke a short time later in a panic. The cell reverberated with strange noises. I opened my eyes wide and lifted my head. Two bulgy Flyeyes hovered in the middle of the room. They were the source of the irritating noise. I noticed Daio’s legs sprout from underneath me. In the nearby bed Dug leaned on his elbow.
    “What happened,” I asked looking again at the Flyeyes. Neither of them had an answer. I didn't remember hearing the door open. The noise it made when it opened or closed could wake up dead.
    “What do you think?” asked Dug and looked at Daio.
    “I don't know. Doing nothing is probably safest,” said Dug huskily.
    The cells. The