by Frank Riley
symbolize the purity of motive inentering the execution arena. Next came the black breeches andhose--black for the eternal remembrance of death. Over the tunic camethe flaming red jupon, blazoned on the sleeves with gules and on theback with a lion rampant argent. On his left shoulder, the squire fixeda lace of white silk, representing a deed not yet accomplished.Following the execution, a woman who had won the honor in her plantlottery would cut it off.
After lacing on Jacques' boots, the squire stepped back, snatching aninstant to admire his handiwork.
"Well done, Squire," said Jacques. "Now, let's be off!"
The squire flushed and beamed in gratitude. He picked up the silver casecontaining the two Pistolet du Mort, one for Jacques, one for thecondemned person.
* * * * *
Court was on a portable platform in the center of the Judicial Arena. Assoon as the execution was confirmed, it would be wheeled out of the way.
When Jacques stepped from the tunnel and strode toward the platform, anabrupt hush choked off the babbling and laughter in the stands. Most ofthe hundred thousand capacity crowd was already seated. Behind Jacques,the squire straightened his narrow shoulders with pride. This was thehighpoint in a life spent among the tapes, circuits and feedbackproblems of computer research.
Jacques mounted the platform, bowed to the crowd and took his seat inthe black-draped, carved oak chair to the left of the Bailiff. Hissquire stood proudly behind him. The Bailiff murmured:
"An imposing entrance for one who had only five minutes to dress! Yourfair victim isn't here yet."
Jacques stonily ignored him.
An explosive cry from the stands brought the Bailiff to his feet.
"Here she comes!" he announced with a grin of anticipation. "Take a goodlook, Sir Jacques--it's worth while!"
Though it was the hardest thing he had ever done, Jacques refrained fromlooking until the woman and her two jailers had nearly reached theplatform steps.
And then he looked straight at her, and the shock of it was a physicalblow. This was Ann, all right. Even after all the years there was nodoubt about it. She was as tall as he remembered her, and there was thesame softness and warmth in the curve of her sun-brown shoulders. Hesuddenly felt the old ache for her.
She held a velvet robe around her shoulders, but she held it loosely,disdainfully. Under it, she was already dressed in the translucent deathgown. Her thick, blond hair, much longer than the fashion of the day,fell nearly to her shoulders. On her feet were the silver sandals shewould later remove, along with the velvet robe, just before stepping upon the pedestal in the execution circle.
The two jailers, each in skull cap and long black sleeveless robe, ledher to the prisoner's bench below the dais where the judges would sit.The sight of her was a torment to Jacques, the ripping open of an oldscar. He knew that in a moment their eyes would meet, but there was notenough strength in the corded muscles of his neck to turn his face away.
Time had been kind to her, Jacques thought in one corner of his numbedbrain. There were signs of its passing, around her mouth and her eyes,but it had given her what youth could not. There was a knowing in thecurve of her lips, and he wondered what her eyes would tell him now.
But she glanced first, with some amusement, at the two jailers, who heldtheir crooked staffs at the alert position. Next, her eyescontemptuously swept the semi-circle of empty judicial chairs. Theypassed by the Bailiff so quickly that he looked cheated, and then theystopped full on Jacques.
He read in their calm appraisal the knowledge that she had expected himto be here, and that she was not surprised at what the years had done tohim. Perhaps she had seen his pictures in the faxpapers, or even watchedsome of his executions. But he wanted to know more than this, and hetried to look deeper into the light and shadows of her eyes.
It was still there, he discovered, feeling a selfish sense of pleasurethat she had not found what he hadn't been able to give her. The endlessseeking, the search for something never put into words, the wantunfulfilled--all this was still there.
He knew that she was reading him in the same way, but he could not tellwhat she found. Finally, it was she who looked away first, not inretreat, rather to appraise him thoughtfully. He felt her eyes on theknotted muscles of his cheeks, on his arms, on the whitened knuckles ofhis scarred hands, on his boots, now grey with dust from the walk acrossthe arena. When her eyes came back to his, her unpainted lips parted ina faint smile.
She knows, thought Jacques. She knows I don't want to kill her! And thenthe torment in him became unbearable. What irony that out of all theyears of their lives they should come back together at this moment. Animpulse tugged at him to snatch his pistols from the squire's silver boxand try to take her from the arena, daring any to stop them.
Then he realized that the Bailiff was standing again, that the hundredthousand spectators were surging to their feet. Trumpet fanfare blastedfrom the main tunnel, signalling the arrival of the judges. Instinctbrought Jacques to his feet. Ann remained seated, and rose only afterthe jailers nudged her with their curved staffs.
"Oyez, oyez, oyez!" cried the Bailiff into a microphone concealed in acarved boar's head."'Tis now two of the clock at aftir noone, and yonheralds bearing trumpets of devise give in knowledge unto all gentilmen,ladyes and gentilwoomen the cooming of this high and most honourablecourt! Remain at standing until said court is seated!"
The Chief Justice, regally stern, led the procession of judges, clerksand pages across the arena. They mounted the platform, stepping incadence. When the robed and bewigged judges were all seated, the Bailiffraised his staff and the crowd settled down with a buzz of anticipation.High atop one of the north towers, hidden cameras picked up the sceneand vidcast it around the earth, and to the satellites and lonely planetoutposts.
One of the clerks picked up five rolls of parchment, untied the scarletribbon on each, and passed them around to the judges. The Chief Justicewent through the pretext of scanning his, then nodded to the Bailiff topresent the prisoner.
With a sly wink at Jacques, the Bailiff took Ann firmly by the arm andguided her three steps forward. The Chief Justice coughed thenervousness from his throat, and asked:
"Is this the Lady Ann of Coberly?"
Before the Bailiff could make the correct response, Ann gave her ownimpatient answer.
"I am Badge No. 7462883, Transistor Division, Coberly precisionProducts, Ltd."
The Chief Justice frowned at this breach of court etiquette.
"Have ye not been properly instructed?"
Ann shrugged, and the loose robe slipped lower on her shoulders.
"I suppose so, but is it necessary to waste all this time? You've gotthe record in front of you!"
The judges exchanged significant glances, and a delicious shudder sweptthrough the stands. Jacques felt time running out on him. At best thechances of a reprieve for any prisoner were small, and in face of Ann'sattitude....
The Chief Justice's expression congealed into judicial impassiveness.
"Ye are charged with taking the life of a man," he began solemnly.
"That's not true!" Ann interrupted.
Her unexpected words brought a startled gasp from the spectators. Thejudges leaned forward alertly.
"According to the evidence ..." the Chief Justice began again.
"He wasn't a man!" Ann cried scornfully. Her glance flickered across atJacques. "There are no more men."
Ponderously, like a slow moving river that would not be diverted fromits course, the Chief Justice returned to the facts of the case:
"Ye speak in riddles, Lady Ann! The evidence makes it full clear thatthe victim was a man...."
"Evidence!" Ann gestured toward the breathless stands. "There is yourevidence! Ask those women what they are doing here! Ask them what theirgreat, great grandmothers were doing at the ancient wrestling matches!!Ask them if they have ever known a real man--or ask your own wives!"
The Chief Justice's impassiveness was shattered. His
cheeks puffed outindignantly. A strange, tense silence gripped the women in the stands;the men drew back their padded shoulders, and shouted in reproof:
"Shame! For shame, Lady Ann!"
"Why don't you ask them?" Ann persisted.
Yes, ask them, Jacques thought, with a sudden, overpowering anger of hisown. Ask them! Maybe their answers would tell why he, too, of all men,should have failed so many of them.
"Hold thy insolent tongue, woman!" roared the Chief Justice. "Thereremains before this Court only one issue--Did ye or did ye not strike aman to his death in the full view of scores of gentilmen andgentilwoomen of Coberly?"
Ann shook her long hair in defiance.
"It wasn't a man I struck with that casing, and all the FBIT's heraldicmockery can't make him a man! I struck a bloodless slide-rule, a coldfiling cabinet full of equations, a set of dull
