Bilford Clarigone awoke in his cell.

He wasn't entirely certain of his whereabouts, and at the moment he almost didn't care. His head hurt and the room was spinning, and most of his body felt as though it were on fire.

He struggled to his feet, and listened for any movement within the cell block. Off in the distance he could hear the slow but steady dripping of water, but otherwise all was silent.

Bilford opened his eyes and was greeted only by his drab, darkened cell. It was much as he remembered it, with two important exceptions: the food the lizard man had given him, which Bilford had playfully tossed at the wall, had now fallen to the floor and was doing a fine impression of the Fwerggy Mountain Chain on his home planet of Bidlebay-Oup-Ferron; and more importantly, the cell door, once closed and locked, was now conspicuously wide open and rattling against the outside wall.

Dizzily, Bilford instinctively drifted towards freedom, and grabbed a hold of the bars for support. He peered into the corridor and muttered an apprehensive, "Jardick?"

On night, after drinking a counterfeit Ruling Drink **, Bilford and his partner, Jardick Mezmahni, robbed and destroyed a number of by-the-road vegetable shops in the Jdix System. Thus netting them a total of fourteen Sednicks (the local currency) and a cartload of rotten, brown radishes (the local neglected vegetable). While the drink had made them feel all powerful, it had also taken control of their minds. They woke up two nights later imprisoned by the local authorities. After a very quick trial, which was in essence the aforementioned vegetable cart owners throwing the equally aforementioned spoiled radishes at their heads (a travesty of the justice system on any civilized system, it must be said) they found themselves bound for the nearest prison colony, Arnett-Baratim. Bilford made a mental note to punch Jardick in the face the next time the man uttered the phrase, "just one more round!"

There was nothing but silence outside his cell where once there was constant chattering and jeering from the other prisoners -- at least until Rogetto told them all to be quiet lest he jab them in the throat with his "pokey stick".

Bilford leaned into the open cell block hallway. No signs of movement. He took a deep breath.

Though an open cell door seemed like an invitation to escape, it could just as well be a lure to his doom. His partner had never been the heroic type, so Bilford sincerely doubted that Jardick had anything to do with this. Also, whoever had sent that Belfand to his green-skinned maker was not playing around. He would have to be very cautious.

Suddenly, the ship lurched, knocking Bilford to the floor. There was a brief moment of freefall, and the engines screamed as they made an ultimately unsuccessful and pathetic attempt to keep the ship stable. This was followed closely by a series of jarring impact reverberations, as though the ship had unexpectedly made contact with something solid. The music of the crash was a stunning cadence of breaking glass, lead by several distinct verses of wrenching and tearing metal: a melody not dissimilar to Cakuffus' classic piece, Curious Little Dance near Exploding Metal Objects no. 17, in b minor.

Once the ship settled, Bilford got up and checked his surroundings.

The first thing he realized was that the great lizard body of Rogetto, which should still be taking up most of the open cell bay, was missing. This was a little disturbing because the effort to move such a body would have been a great undertaking, involving inhuman strength and effort. Also, it was a little disappointing as Bilford wanted to give the creature one final kick in the groin.

A quick search revealed all of the other prisoners had been brutally murdered in their cells. The cruelty of the deed showed that the killer quite enjoyed his work, as bits of the bodies were carefully placed about as though part of some horrific mural. Not much of an art critic, Bilford retreated in a hurry.

He found Jardick's cell in similar condition to that of the man's first apartment after college: Dark, unadorned and smelling of blood, stale alcohol and viscera. The door also hung wide-open, and clattered against the bars as Bilford approached, giving one the impression that whoever had been here had left quite suddenly.

Sadly, Bilford found his friend lying on the ground, his once round head no longer dissimilar in appearance to that of an egg salad sandwich. Bilford had to look away. Although he hated to admit it, he was glad this was Jardick's fate and not his own. But questions still remained. Had he been spared for some grand purpose, or had the killer simply been interrupted.

In the distance, a running motor, like from a small transport ship speeding away, caught his attention.

"Wait," Bilford screamed, running down the corridor and leaving the horror behind. He tracked the dissipating sound to the back of the ship, and down a passageway which terminated at a frosty porthole. The thick hyperjik window allowed him to see the surface of the planet: Ice and sharp rocks spread out as far as could be seen, a thousand times worse than the prison colony on Arnett-Baratim. Deep against the frozen sky, a small black dot, leaving Bilford behind to freeze to death.