Why would anyone continue to scream those words in any place? Foreigners aren’t allowed to speak their native tongue. Schools have rid themselves of teaching foreign languages. Rarely ever would a person be trained to speak multiple languages any more. Those people were spies. He wants to shush the voice and tell it that it is calling trouble to its side, but it wouldn’t listen to him anyway. Why would anyone listen to a kid?

Fixed on the direction of ‘Viva la Resistance,’ a door slides open temporarily giving birth to the cells directly within the stretch of the light’s power. A person walks in and the door slides shut behind him. The words get louder as if whoever is saying it needs everyone to hear it before he goes mute. A soft thump is followed by more silence. Moments later, the door opens and closes again as the person exits. The Resistance has been silenced.

Another stronger breeze blows through the cage. This time, J looks at where it is coming from. He can see the moon, shining through a small window, far away from him. It is open and distant. Even though it can be seen and the wind can be felt, the bright glow of its light does not seem to reach the inside of wherever he is. He reaches out for it. He can’t grab it. The box is silhouetted against the darkness.

“Don’t worry, kid. You’ll be out of your nest soon. We have to work for them.” A rough voice breaks the silence. It’s far closer than ‘Viva la Resistance!’ It’s startlingly closer.

J switches his stance and presses his body against the opposite wall of the cage, away from the voice. He had not come far enough to observe all of the sides of the cage. The new voice had scared him into an overly alerted state.

“Don’t worry, I can’t get to you. Even if I could, it wouldn’t do me any good. I have to leap at least 10 feet before I can get into your cage. Then, I would have to ask myself, ‘Why the hell would I want to do something like that?’” He points up at the chains of his own cage. J can just barely see his movement. “The sensors in the ceiling monitor all of our movement.”

“Who are you?” He speaks out for the first time in what seems like an eternity. His throat is dry and scratchy. Talking makes him slightly dizzy. It seems to be straining what little energy he has.

“Arthur,” the man replies. “I’m nobody you want to know.”

“Where is this?”

“Prison.”

“Prison?” He mouths the word as if not to believe them. He couldn’t have been caught. How could he be in prison? He had only heard rumors about such places. It was never much of a conversation piece.

“It’s one of them higher security deals. Not your average cell. You must have done somethin’ big to get in here. They had you shackled like none I’ve ever seen. Completely restrained.” Arthur moves from the back end of his cage, to the side closer to J. “I seen a lot of ‘em come in here. None ever as young as you though.”

Rows of lights begin to click on. Columns of energy kick into action and bring the room to life. The chains are lowered and J can see everything much more clearly. This place holds more people than J has ever seen in his life. All of them are suspended in their cages above a massively long line of deep darkness. Even though the room is now well lit, he cannot make out what might be beneath this floor. He may not really want to know. His curiosity propels thoughts through his mind.

The chambers create one large line of barred boxes, which become an aisle for the guards and prisoners to walk through. The door, at the far end of the hall, isn’t as far away as it had seemed to be just moments ago. Armed men walk by. No one is talking. They are all hushed. J says nothing. It may be wise to follow the unspoken directions of others in a place like this. Even as the men walk past him, they do not look to their sides or up from where the cages have come. Like walking sculptures, they move on, unmoved.

The cages unlock and their gates swing open. A large line of people stretches the length of the hall and beyond J’s sight away from the door. He steps out and stands as they are. A whistle blows loud enough for it to have come from the person to be standing right next to him, but when he looks all he sees is that everyone is now facing the door. He shuffles his body to do the same hoping that no one had noticed his slow reaction.

In front of him, an older man stands as stiff as the wall next to them. An orange light is blinking on the back of his neck. J reaches back and rubs his neck to see if maybe he also has one. He does not. He wonders if he will soon be given one.

“What’s going on,” he whispers to the man in front. Nothing. He doesn’t even budge as if he might have been tempted to answer the question. He doesn’t even say ‘shh’ or slightly twitch his neck as if to be tempted to see who was speaking. A clapping of feet on the ground breaks the monotone silence. J straitens himself and tries to mimic the man in front of him and the man in front of that man and so on. Squinting his eyes, he can see that some of the others also have the little blinking lights in the back of their necks.