ME 462C

Chapter 5: Daringly, Again

As ME 462C followed behind Macnair, he saw the inmates of Azkaban, sobbing out their sorry laments. Faces, pale, blank, pleading, all horrifying images. These people were guilty of the worst crimes committable. Some laughed insanely, others stared out in their comatose state. ME 462C shivered.

At the end of the row, in a high security cell, lay P 667H. As she slept, her chest rose and fell in staggered intervals. Her breath came in gasps. Macnair was speaking in his low, husky tones, but ME 462C didn't hear a word of what he said. He watched her every movement, her lithe, cat-like body twisting about in thrashing convulsions.

"This one's got the Kiss coming. Determined this morning. Doesn't know it yet, course. She wouldn't be sleeping, otherwise. I remember the last one we had in here, when we told him he was getting Kissed, he didn't sleep for a whole week. Just sat there, shivering, scared as hell, course." Macnair said. ME 462C's jaw dropped. They were giving her the Kiss? The infamous Dementor's Kiss?

ME 462C watched Macnair kick at P 667H from between the bars. She jolted awake, her eyes darting around the room like lightning flashes.

"Pucker up, sister. You got it comin'!" Macnair sneered.

"Isn't that inhumane, ME 195D?" ME 462C asked, staring at the man in shock.

"Nah. If she committed one of the unspeakable crimes, she deserves every bit of it."

At the opposite end of the hall, a loud buzzing noise rang. The alarm.

"Damn! Not another one!" Macnair shouted. Someone breaking out, ME 462C mused. As Macnair ran down the hall, puffing and muttering, an idea flashed across ME 462C's brain. The rest of the plan had worked itself out. He wouldn't have thought about it at first, of course. But now that magical rights had been given back, he supposed it was the best plan he had.

Casting a concealment charm on himself, ME 462C stole surreptitiously through the corridors. Humming casually more to keep his mind off things than anything, he quickly found the door to the security room. In there would be all the controls to the electronic equipment. To solve any problem, you just had to cut its circuits.

He picked the lock and slid the door open. Scanning the room for any strategic hiding spots, he noticed a guard, back turned, eyes on a tiny television screen. ME 462C crept across the room with his wand out, his hands trembling slightly. Any noise, even one ever so slight, could betray him now.

He knew he was doomed when he felt his nose tickle. Sneezes were impossible to suppress to the point that they were no longer audible. As the noise erupted from inside him, the guard whirled around, wand drawn. The concealment charm wavered, and then faded altogether. He'd blown his cover.

ME 462C reacted instantly. "Stupefy!" he whispered. The guard dropped to the floor like a stone in a pond. Now time was on his side, at least for the moment.

Carefully he sat in the chair that had been occupied by the guard moments later. The screen had turned black. That meant it had shut off, which also meant that ME 462C would have to hack into the system to get all the cameras turned off. He hated hacking. It was tough business, but he thought he knew enough about Macnair to come up with a password. Voice identification would be difficult, if the need for it arose. No spell could alter your voice, not even a Polyjuice Potion. There were spells to make it louder, softer, nearly everything you could wish for. Yet there were none to make it sound like another's.

The screen flickered twice, then a small white box appeared in the middle. This must be where he was to type the password. Focussing on Macnair's life, ME 462C thought hard. Like ME 462C, Macnair had no wife, nor any kids. This would have made most men say, "Lucky bastards!". ME 462C agreed privately with part of this. A wife would be nice, to do the laundry, to clean the house, and for the occasional shag. Being single was convenient for the latter, after all, if you got tired of shagging one girl, you could move on to the next. But, having a wife sounded so... homey? Was that the word he was looking for?

He shook himself. He was supposed to be hacking into the most intricate security system in the magical world, not thinking about shagging! Priorities, priorities...

A thought came across him. Macnair had been a Death Eater, that might be a likely thought for a password. Biting his lip, he typed it in the small box.

A loud buzzing noise pierced the stiflingly hot silence in the room. Quickly, ME 462C typed in the first word to come to his mind, Voldemort. The screen blanked out, then the words 'welcome' flashed across it. ME 462C sighed in relief.

Quickly, pictures from the security cams came up. He saw P 667H laying peacefully in her cell still, and various other prisoners doing likewise. Then he saw them. The security guards. They knew he was here.

"SHIT!" he swore. He'd have to move quickly now. Cutting the circuit from the cameras, he cast another concealment charm on himself. He'd have to remember to keep moving, even if it was just his pinkie toe. If he ever stopped moving, his figure would instantly become visible.

Creeping off down the corridors, he dodged security guards right and left. Like an Invisibility Cloak, you were still solid when you were under the spell.

Now, he'd have to make his move. And this move wouldn't be just for him, oh no. This was a move to defy society, to deny every purpose in the System. It was now or never, ME 462C.