A Covenant of Justice

by David Gerrold

  One at a time, the others followed Captain Campbell out onto the thick spoke. It looked as wide as a blacktree limb, though it had a much more pleasant color. The designers of the forum hadn’t tried to extend the disk’s natural gravity field outward. Although they knew several ways to accomplish the feat, none of them would have proven stable over a long period of time. Instead, they covered the spokes with a natural stick-to-me surface, so although the gravity of the Forum diminished rapidly as one moved away from the outer edges, one could still walk along the spoke without the danger of falling off and into an unpleasant orbit around the edge of the Forum.

  “Wow,” said Sawyer, pausing to look around. Finn came out the airlock after him and echoed his sentiment. Finn looked much better, almost his normal self again.

  Harry followed them out, straightening his white robe. He glanced around and nodded his approval. “The place hasn’t changed a bit.”

  “You’ve come here before?” Finn asked curiously.

  Harry coughed in sudden embarrassment, then nodded. “Uh, yeah. A long time ago.”

  The others followed them, pausing to stare in wonder and amazement. Robin and Ota stood and gaped. Kask lashed his tail in apparent discomfort, but would not admit his fear of this place. Ibaka saw the distant trees and began whimpering in eagerness. “Let me down,” he begged excitedly, and the Dragon did so.

  Lee-1169 stepped out of the lock and grinned broadly. William Three-Dollar followed him out with a beatific smile. Equally at peace, Nyota came next, walking between Azra and her father. She held their hands and led them out into the light of the upper sun.

  Gito and Arl-N had volunteered to stay behind on The Lady MacBeth to stand guard over Zillabar. The rest of the travelers moved slowly down the spoke toward the edge of the disk. They made a strangely drawn out group. They chose their steps with care; they pointed and gaped like tourists.

  “Why did they put it way out here?” asked Sawyer.

  Harry stopped and pointed behind them. To the galactic east, lay the great wheel of the Milky Way galaxy—the Eye of God. Its gaudy splendor hung in a brilliant ellipse across half the visible sky. For the first time anywhere, they could see it all at once. The Lady MacBeth appeared dwarfed before it. “We came from there,” he said. “Our past.” He turned and pointed. To the galactic west, lay a single bright cluster of light—compact, almost solid. The Palethetic Cluster. “And that—that represented our future.”

  Harry stamped his foot, to indicate the Forum itself. “Here—once a planet sat in this orbit. A predator killed it—one of the first to leap across the rift. We used the body of the planet to build the Forum. Here, we created the Regency of Terra. We recreated ourselves as warriors to stand against the horror that tracked us through the darkness. Here, we defied the predators and took our first stand.”

  Harry realized that he had struck an heroic posture and an equally pretentious manner of speaking; he shook it off in sudden embarrassment, grinned, and asked, “Any other questions?”

  “No thanks,” said Sawyer. “I don’t think we could stand another answer.” He grinned back, enjoying Harry’s flush of discomfiture. Consequently, he didn’t see what Harry saw. Instead, he saw Harry Mertz freeze in horror and dismay.

  Sawyer whirled around. His face hardened as he recognized the figure who waited at the end of the spoke—

  Standing alone at the edge of the platform, Kernel Sleestak d’Vashti waited patiently for them. He wore a look of triumph.

  Confrontation

  “Oh, shit,” said Sawyer.

  In reply, d’Vashti smiled.

  For a moment, no one moved; then the travelers began edging closer, clustering together to face the black-clad Vampire in an angry and defiant group. They stood approximately ten meters apart; their voices carried loudly in the cold air.

  d’Vashti surveyed them without apparent emotion. After a moment, he remarked, “I must say, it seems very rude to me to hold a Gathering about the future of the Regency without inviting a representative of the Phaestoric aristocracy.”

  Justice Harry Mertz stepped forward, his gleaming white robe dazzling in the broad sunlight. “Your point may have some validity, your excellency; but neither can you deny that your actions and the actions of other Phaestor have caused the calling of this Gathering.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Forget cause and effect. I have little interest in the past. That way lies only blame and despair. I care for the future. So do you, Arbiter. At least you acknowledge the validity of my claim. Good. Let’s play politics. I have the Regency Starfleet on my side. What do you have?”

  “You have one starship, d’Vashti. Your fleet lies scattered across a thousand suns, her captains and admirals squabbling like children—unless you can consummate a mating. We both know that, so let’s not play games with words.”

  “Nevertheless, I have that one starship, The Black Destructor. With the power of that particular method, I have the ability to dispose of any object here. Including the entire Forum itself. What weapon do you have?”

  “We have truth,” said Harry. “It will have to serve.”

  d’Vashti laughed. Harry allowed himself a smile of his own. They had drawn the battle lines and declared their positions.

  “I don’t think,” Harry said, “that you’ll dare risk triggering a civil war in the Cluster. Assaulting a Gathering will demonstrate to everyone that the Regency has lost its soul.”

  “Not the Regency. Only me,” d’Vashti retorted loudly across the space between them.

  “It makes no difference anymore,” replied Harry calmly. “You have wrapped yourself in the authority of your offices. You have become the Regency in the eyes of the Cluster. If you act badly, so does the Regency. If you fall here, so does the Regency. If we fall here—by your hand—so does the Regency. Either way, you lose.”

  d’Vashti waved Harry’s words away as if they had no relevance at all to him. “You’ll die believing that, old man.”

  At these words, Sawyer and Lee both stepped up beside Harry. Both drew their weapons. Harry stopped them. “No. Not here. Anywhere else, perhaps—but not here. I won’t allow anyone to stain the Forum with violence.”

  “You can’t mean that!” cried Lee. “After everything that son of a stinkbug has put us through—” He fired anyway.

  The beam bounced harmlessly off d’Vashti. It splattered in all directions, but the bulk of it flashed back to Lee, knocking him down and stunning him. The splash of it left Harry and Sawyer stinging. Sawyer bent to help Lee back to his feet. “That son of a stinkbug has a reflector shield. Consider yourself lucky that you didn’t hit him with a more powerful beam.”

  d’Vashti laughed wickedly at the others’ discomfort. Abruptly, however, he cut off his laughing and his expression hardened. “Now, hear my anger. You—” he pointed to Sawyer and Lee. “You kidnapped the Lady Zillabar. Even now, you continue to hold her hostage. I order the release of the Lady Zillabar immediately.”

  “We can’t do it,” whispered Sawyer to Harry. “Not yet—not until we complete Finn’s treatment. As long as the phage survives in his blood, he can still die.”

  Harry spoke up in reply. “The Lazy Zillabar has had a judgment levied against her. Until that the completion of that judgment, we cannot comply with your request.”

  “Not a request, old man,” d’Vashti said. “An order.”

  “Nevertheless—” Harry spread his hands wide in an apologetic gesture of legal helplessness. “The judgment stands.”

  “You made this judgment yourself?” d’Vashti asked.

  “I did.”

  d’Vashti dismissed Harry with a wave. “It has no merit. Produce the Lady.”

  “I apologize, your excellency. I cannot retract my previous ruling.” He smiled broadly. “You would have to have me overruled by a higher body of law. If you can find one.”

  d’Vashti eyes narrowed. “If I can find one? Look around, old man. We have a thousand Arbiters at our disposal here.
I couldn’t throw a rock without hitting a Senior Arbiter. I can appeal your stupid ruling here at the Gathering, without taking ten steps. You’ll see soon enough what authority you have make your futile judgments.”

  “Go ahead,” said Harry. “The law grants you broad rights to appeal. As a matter of fact, you probably have very good grounds for an appeal in that a licensed arbiter did not make the original ruling—”

  “What the hell!” said Sawyer. Lee and the others also turned to look at Harry, surprised and alarmed.

  Harry ignored them. “—and the second ruling in the matter did not occur in a venue in which the Lady Zillabar had full access to appropriate representation.”

  “You son of a bitch—” said Sawyer. “I’ll kill you myself!” Lee and Finn had to hold him back.

  But Harry kept right on talking. “However, the Lady Zillabar did accept the rulings made in both of those hearings, and legal precedents say that her acceptance validates those rulings. Oh, I should also point out that you’ll have to stand as a codefendant in the matter of an unfulfilled contract with Sawyer and Finn Markham.”

  d’Vashti dismissed Harry’s words as an idle threat. “I have no concerns with those two trackers. The dead can’t sue anyone.”

  Sawyer replied to that. “Take another look, bat-breath. My brother and I stand before you, both very much alive.”

  “Well, yes,” admitted d’Vashti. “But that can change too.” To Harry, he said, “We’ll play it your way for now. I’ll see you in court.” Then he turned and strode away.

  Sawyer and Lee both turned to Harry, both already speaking, but Harry held up his hands to silence them. “Please—” he said. “We have to do this by the rules of the Gathering. If we don’t respect the rule of law, we have no right to demand it of anyone else.”

  “I hate politics,” said Sawyer.

  “I think I agree with you,” said Lee.

  “So do I,” said Harry. “And I know more of politics than either of you. Now, listen to me, both of you—and listen well, because if you can’t get this through your thick skulls now, then we might as well all turn around and march straight back to The Lady MacBeth and head for whatever little ratholes we want to call home.” Harry raised his voice to include all the rest of his listeners as well. “You can’t work for justice if you only want justice for yourself. You have to work for justice for your enemy as well—otherwise, you won’t have any justice at all, only a tool for revenge that both sides will bludgeon each other with for centuries to come.”

  Lee looked at the Arbiter, astonished. “I thought you stood on our side.”

  “I don’t take sides, you idiot. I took an oath of impartiality the first time I put on a white robe. Forget about sides now. You’ve reached the point where most revolutions fail. You have to create justice for all, or you won’t have justice for anybody.”

  Sawyer and Finn exchanged unhappy glances. Sawyer muttered something.

  “Say again?” demanded Harry.

  “You heard what d’Vashti said. He won’t give us one nth the same consideration. How can we have justice with a snake, with a Vampire? Sorry, old man, but I don’t believe in justice any more. Not your kind, anyway.”

  “I see,” said Harry. “You only believe in justice when you win.”

  Sawyer didn’t answer. He and Finn turned away curtly; they strode angrily back toward The Lady MacBeth, not with any specific purpose in mind, only to get away from Harry.

  Harry shook his head sadly. Lee turned away, so did Captain Campbell, and after a moment, all of the others as well. Glumly, they headed back to the starship to activate the vessel’s security defenses. Only Three-Dollar remained behind. He smiled gently at the Arbiter. “I think I know where I remember you from,” he said. “And I think you have some explaining to do.”

  “No,” said Harry curtly. “I don’t.” And he turned away from the others and headed out onto the main platform of the Forum.

  More Justice

  Sawyer felt despondent—to come this far, only to have their success snatched away by a set of unfair rules, it didn’t make sense. He didn’t feel good about anyone or anything. Even Finn’s spirits had apparently begun to wilt. He looked unhappy and retired to the cabin that he shared with Sawyer.

  Around them, the argument raged like a firestorm; they sat unmoved at the heart of it, too exhausted to fight anymore.

  Captain Campbell couldn’t believe Harry’s betrayal and after several hours of fruitless arguing, she gave up in disgust. “I thought we could trust you.”

  “You can trust me to uphold the law,” Harry said calmly. “Or my word as an arbiter will have no value at all.”

  Campbell ignored that. “And meanwhile, you plan on giving away the tracker’s life? What’ll you give d’Vashti next? My starship?”

  Three-Dollar understood Harry’s reasoning, but when he tried to explain it, no one wanted to listen. For the first time, he and Lee engaged in a full-out shouting match. Nyota and her father exchanged angry words, with Azra in tears between them. Gito didn’t say anything; he just methodically broke out every weapon in the starship, inspected each one, tested it to see that it still functioned up to spec—not the manufacturer’s specs, but the specs of his special modifications—and then returned them carefully to stores. Arl-N and Robin assisted him. Ota withdrew unto itself and stopped speaking. Ibaka curled up into a ball and whimpered while Kask went stomping up and down the docking spoke, looking for something to kill. Shariba-Jen moved politely through the starship performing routine maintenance tasks, and carefully steering potential combatants away from each other.

  Finally, Harry—and both of the TimeBinders—left The Lady MacBeth altogether, moving instead into guest pavilions on the Forum disk. Azra went with Nyota; M’bele did not. He stormed up and down the corridors of the starship, fuming with undirected frustration and anger. He didn’t know who to hate anymore.

  By the time of the hearing, the ship resembled an armed camp, with half the travelers not speaking to the other half; allegiances shifted as easily as opinions; but when they finally all filed out again to head toward one of the lesser amphitheaters, they had achieved—if nothing else—the appearance of cooperation lent by mutual silence.

  This time, they made their way to the Forum without incident. The walkways on the disk took them easily to their destination, a small bowl-shaped theater, already half-filled with curious onlookers and representatives of other worlds.

  Sawyer looked around as they entered, and shuddered. He noticed too many Vampires, too many Dragons, not enough humans to suit his tastes. But . . . he also saw members of species he’d never seen before at all, only heard about. Two huge women—they looked like relatives of Murdock—sat on the top level of the bowl. Nearby, sat several human-like creatures who had a second set of arms instead of legs; free-fallers probably—or humanoid monkeys, Sawyer wasn’t sure. Below them, three tall spindly men waited calmly; they looked even taller than Arl-N. Sawyer hadn’t realized humans could grow so long. On the other side of the bowl, he saw several shaven-headed individuals in featureless robes; he couldn’t identify them as either male, female, or neuters; he assumed the latter. Most of the humans wore clothing from their own worlds, a dizzying variety of kilts, skirts, pantaloons, vests, robes, caps, hoods, and ornamentation. Most of them displayed a variety of skin colors far beyond those which Sawyer had assumed possible; he saw red skins, white, yellow, blue, brown, green, deep purple, ebony, albino, pink, and even milk-chocolate like his own and Finn’s.

  Sawyer saw several Knaxx sitting patiently in the bowl; it didn’t surprise him. Informants went everywhere—anyplace where something interesting might occur, the Knaxx would have members in attendance. It did surprise him though to see so many robots scattered throughout the crowd—and so many bioforms and androids too. Why should they have any interest in this hearing, or even in the Gathering, for that matter? The Gathering only concerned natural life forms, like humans—and maybe tailored reconstr
ucts as well—but certainly not artificial or constructed beings. They had no claims to representation here. Or did they? He scratched his head curiously. Perhaps he didn’t understand all of this as well as he thought he did. Maybe he didn’t understand it at all.

  But . . . he did understand one thing. Zillabar owed Finn his life. Period. He would not accept less than that. He patted his weapon thoughtfully as he took his seat. Finn took a seat wearily beside him. Finn Markham looked terrible. His recovery seemed halted, and he had begun to look deathly again, as if suffering a relapse of the blood-burn. Streaks of gray had appeared at his temples and his skin had taken on an ashen color.

  The rest of the travelers from The Lady MacBeth arrayed themselves around the trackers in a phalanx of moral support. At one point, Captain Campbell even reached down and patted Sawyer gently on the shoulder. He reached up and patted her hand in gratitude—then realized what Neena Linn-Campbell had done and turned around to smile at her, but her gaze had already shifted elsewhere across the bowl of the amphitheater.

  d’Vashti and his aides—all clad in dull black armor and capes—entered the bowl, looking arrogant and already triumphant. They ignored the humans and took their assigned seats 120 degrees away. A moment later, three Senior Arbiters in shimmering white robes had entered the bowl. As Sawyer and the others watched, the two women and one man crossed to their positions, equidistant from both parties in the case. Sawyer looked around and spotted Harry at the top rear of the bowl; observer or participant, he couldn’t tell.

  “This dispute,” began the most-senior of the Senior Arbiters, “has attracted a great deal of attention here at the Gathering, so much so, that we have chosen to resolve it before proceeding to the much larger business at hand. Indeed, the resolution of this matter may well have serious import for everything else we will consider later. In any case, we will now hear arguments in the matter of Kernel Sleestak d’Vashti and the Lady Zillabar versus the brothers Markham, Sawyer and Finn.”