Red Cells

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“Miss her already, friend?” asked the mutant seated next to Jeremy Stake in the transdimensional pod.

Stake had rolled up the sleeve of his candy red prison uniform to stare at the bared flesh of his arm. He had traced a finger on the underside of his forearm to summon a holograph, its image imprinted like a tattoo into his skin. A man and woman, cheek-against-cheek, grinning into the camera. The woman was striking: a blue-eyed albino black woman with her hair in dreadlocks. The man was himself. Or so it would seem. He shared the same features as the man in the holograph, at any rate. A thin face with a weak chin compensated for with a groomed goatee, his gelled dark hair buzzed close on the sides, and squinty eyes that sparkled with a kind of dark mischief.

He didn’t respond to the mutant shackled to the bench beside him, but the man went on nonetheless. “You better get used to missing that sweet thing, if you’re off to the Worm Hole. Can’t be no light sentence if you’re going there. What you get for time?”

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