Physical pain is nothing compared to the lingering ache from unsaid words, and I had enough to fill every book in a library. My wife had walked out the door, possibly the last time I would ever see her, yet I had nothing to say. No words could make her stay in the room and listen to how I would make the world right again. I had messed up many times before, but getting out of prison wasn’t a simple fix. Keenan had everyone on Mars in his back pocket.

To get a chance in the mars transport industry, you must be ruthless or born into the business. Keenan, the godawful man, happened to be both. He would swoop down from his palace that floated above the planet to walk amongst the people whenever he was bored. I had seen him before at casinos and social events, making his rounds. He would offer gifts with invisible strings attached. The sales pitch he gave never failed, ‘Do something for me, or I’ll make life difficult for you.’ He built such a great rapport with people with his gifts that ignoring the veiled threat became easy.

Tyson Freud, an up incoming actor who premiered in the new unending destiny film, fell into the trap once. Keenan came to him with a smile and gifts to congratulate him on landing such a significant role. Keenan told Tyson that he would help him get connections on earth to star in bigger movies if he did a small favor for him. I heard from a friend that Keenan was interested in the actor's wife and wanted to be with her. The actor was appalled when Keenan asked for time with his wife and vehemently refused.

There is no refusing Keenan; it’s just best to stay out of his way. Keenan took great pleasure in having his goons beat Tyson relentlessly. The beating required him to get facial reconstruction because his face looked lopsided. The man looked like gravity pushed down twice as hard on his right side. The actor tried to have him arrested, but Keenan paid a small fine, and that was it. The Mars government would never put a money maker on trial. He could kill a man in broad daylight, and nothing would happen to him.

When I saw him that day at the casino, I should’ve just walked out before he came over, but I happened to be on a roll that day. I never dampen a hot hand. It’s best to play it out and see where you stand at the night's end. Keenan came to my table with a smile, and when he asked me if I wanted to play with bigger stakes, I knew there was no turning down the offer.

My eyes switched to Angie, and I watched her shift uneasily in her seat. She had seen this song and dance before on many nights, but the moments had never been so tense. I leaned over and gently placed Angie’s hand in mine.

“It’s ok,” I said with a smile, trying to ease the worry I saw in her creasing brow. Even her expressions were the same as mine. “Tell me all about what you have been up to.”

She hesitated a moment before speaking about how school had been going since she returned. They imprisoned me toward the end of her first year in school, and pictures and letters were not the same as picking her up from school every day. I sat and listened to her spiel about the life of a second-grade student. She was descriptive and spoke enthusiastically about things that had become trivial knowledge to me.

When I was at home and had all the time to spend with her, I had not been nearly as excited to hear about her exploits. The galaxy was new to her. It excited her, and I felt excitement for her. Whenever I tried to butt in on her storytelling, she would pull out her patented phrase of ‘well actually, dad’ to tell me off. I did not mind it. She reminded me of myself when I was talking about something I was passionate about.

When you are a kid, you think you know everything, and sometimes you have to learn the way of the world yourself. It’s a lesson I still need to remember as an adult. I had heard her speak a million times before, but her voice carried more strength. The strength of an individual rather than just a mixture of her mom and I’s voice. I felt like I was listening to a prepared speech rather than an eight-year-old girl talking to her father. Her life's woes mattered more to me than my own at the moment because, for all I knew, it would be the last time I could listen. My tears watered up part way through the story of her and her friend Neil winning the geography bee at their school, but I wiped my eyes before she could see.

A knock came at the door, and I turned to see officer Rowlins waiting. “It’s already been well over twenty minutes, but I'll give you one more to wrap up.” Rowlins closed the door behind himself, and I turned back to see Angie with a sad expression.

“Bye Dad. I’ll write you a letter.” The officer led her out, and my mind twisted and turned, trying to think of what to do. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong.

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Rowlins watched the exchange and waited for my family to exit before pulling out the cuffs.

“Time to go,'' Rowlins said.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets while thinking of Annalise and Angie. When I pulled my hands out for Rowlins to cuff them, my pointer finger had a tiny drop of blood on it. I looked at it in surprise and licked the blood off my finger. It tasted like bitter metal. I had a small paper cut that had cut deep enough to draw blood. Confused, I reached into my pocket and pulled out Mr. Greene’s business card. It had two drops of blood on his name. I was surprised to see the worn-out paper had cut me. I stuffed the card back in my pocket and got cuffed by Rowlins. When we stepped out into the hallway, I could see Annalise and Angie’s trailing figures at the end of the hall.

“Can you take me to communications first? I need to make a call,” I said

“Alright, but it better be quick.”

Officer Rowlins led me back the way we came, and we stopped at the same checkpoint to go back into the central prison. Instead of showing me down to the cells, he directed me to the communications room. Another guard was on duty, but he was sitting at a desk watching a video. None of the phones were in use, so I just walked up to the closest one while Officer Rowlins stood back by the door.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the business card for Mr. Greene’s staffing agency. I stared for a second at my dried blood. I still felt the slight stinging pain pulsing at the tip of my finger. I read the number out loud to myself, my voice barely at a whisper, and entered the number into the keypad. Suddenly a young woman with glasses and bright pink hair appeared on the screen with a pen and paper in hand. Her lipstick matched her hair, and she had a short bob cut above the shoulders.

“Thanks for calling the Hylion Greene staffing agency. How can I be of assistance?”

“Yes, I’m looking for Hylion Greene.”

“Oh really? I would have never guessed that” she remarked sarcastically.

“He came to see me a couple of days ago offering me a well-paying job, and I was wondering if the offer is still on the table.”

“What is your name?”

“Wesley Howard.” She leaned over to a filing cabinet and began to riffle through it. A file cabinet is strange to see, but Mr. Greene did say he liked to have physical papers. Paper wasn’t illegal, but it was taboo. The environmentalists hated it.

“Ah, here you are.” She pulled out a file and began flipping through its contents. “Are you the Martian prisoner?”

“I’m not Martian. I migrated here, but yes, I’m the prisoner.”

“Good thing you called. Mr. Greene is meeting with another candidate for the spot we still need to fill for the client. I’ll send him a message to let him know you accept the job offer.”

“Wait a minute. I’m not accepting the job offer. I still don’t know what it entails, and if I’m being honest, I still think this is some scam,” I said.

“I’m not at liberty to tell you anything about the job. You're going to have to take a leap of faith. Faith is difficult, but if you say yes, I promise we will reward your faith in us.”

“If I accept, how long would the job be for. Mr. Greene said I would be transferred out of prison and given a lot of money, but that wouldn’t matter if it were a long-term contract.”

“I can’t say anything over the phone, so just say yes.”

“I’ll take the job, but I have to know If you have recently hired my wife, Annalise Howard?”

“We have.”

“Why? To force my hand?” My heartbeat had grown as loud as a drum. I would not be surprised if Rowlins could hear it from his seat.

“No. The person hiring you for this job will take care of your family if any problem arises in the experiment as long as you agree.”

“Then I accept.”

She smiled and jotted a couple of notes on the paper before sliding it back into the file cabinet. I hadn’t worked a regular job since college, but I wasn’t worried. Mr. Greene wanted me for a specific position, so that meant I already had the skills necessary.

“You’ll receive a package tomorrow morning with instructions on what to do to ensure your transfer. Best of luck,” she said with a smile. The screen went black. When I looked over to Officer Rowlins, he was already standing up.

“Alright, let’s go. We can’t linger any longer,” Rowlins said. He pressed the tip of his barrel as if he feared I would attack him out of nowhere.

He led me back to the cell, and I stayed there through the night. I had missed my meal time, but the hunger was easy to ignore. I was so lost in my world thinking and debating what would happen to me. The albino man would come again—no doubt about it. Keenan wasn’t one to wait. I had known since I met the man that he had a short fuse. The only good thing about him was that he was loose with his money.

When I awoke the following day, a package was waiting at the edge. It was a regular cardboard box with silver ductwork lining it. On the side, in big blue letters, it read ‘Hylion Greene delivery service.’ I leaped at the package and turned my back to the outside of the cell. I hid behind my bed and methodically used my fingernails and the sharp edge of the bed to get the box open. Inside was a small plasma cutter. I had seen the ads online before. It was a handyman’s most trusted tool. Better than a knife and cheaper than a full-blown plasma cutter. Next to the plasma knife, there was a note that said, ‘kill the albino man.’