A Covenant of Justice

by David Gerrold

  As Finn climbed down the tunnel, Zillabar pounded on his shoulders. “Put me down, you stinking son of a human!”

  “Nope. I insist on rescuing you!”

  “To make me a slave again? An act of ridicule? Never!”

  “No. I just want to prove you wrong.”

  “I’d rather die!”

  Finn stopped, very annoyed. “All right,” he said. “Have it your own way.” He dumped her disgustedly to her feet, left her there, jumped through the shuttleboat door and slammed the hatch in her face.

  “What about the Lady?” Sawyer asked.

  “She changed her mind.”

  “Just as well. She never did get along with the rest of us.”

  Shariba-Jen sat at the controls of the shuttleboat, swearing furiously. “The damn thing won’t start. The pod bay doors won’t open. And the ion-drive modules keep going pocketa-pocketa instead of rrrrm-rrrrm.”

  “Kick it!” Gito hollered. “That always works for me.”

  The Final Collapse

  The great vessel began to crumple. Sparks and explosions flickered along its hull.

  Far below, on the disk of the Forum, the crowd watched in horror as the silent horror unfolded. Shuttleboats dropped away from the vessel, one after the other; bright sparks of light rushing toward safe harbor.

  Even d’Vashti stared—stunned into speechlessness.

  The great vessel slowly imploded, collapsing inward around the singularity at its heart. The last few escape pods fell away from it. The great ship sucked inward in a sudden final rush—and finally vanished in a blaze of brilliant blue light.

  And then . . . a great cheer went up all across the flat disk of the Forum. Whoops and shrieks of joy. Whistles and catcalls of hysteria. Delirium and delight. A celebration of emotional release. Cries of victory resonated and echoed. People grabbed each other, tears streaming from their eyes; they pounded each other on the back. They hugged. They kissed. They held each other close, turning around and around. They opened their arms and their hands and united their hearts.

  The Dragons shifted among themselves, uncertain and wary. They looked as if they thought they should take action, but they held themselves back. They had no experience with this kind of situation.

  And then . . . the Nexus stood up again in the center of the arena and looked across the intervening space at Kernel Sleestak d’Vashti. “You are fighting the TimeBand, d’Vashti. It works only when you submerge your identity in the sea of memory. You cannot impress your will on six thousand years of history, hoping to reshape it with a single hunger. It doesn’t work that way. You must relax and let us in. Swim in the sea of community. Relax. Surrender to the community of minds and become one with the rest of us. Let your mind be part of ours—that’s the way. Now, you can see the larger vision and realize that this small tiny hunger of yours, this dreadful lust for power and authority serves no one, not even you. We welcome your strength in the new vision. You have much to give us. But you must surrender to the inevitable now so that we can all end the dreadful killing together. The choice is yours, Kernel Sleestak d’Vashti. How say you?”

  d’Vashti recoiled. He staggered backward. “No!” he screamed. “No! I will not be beaten.” He gestured and the Dragons instantly unslung their weapons and pointed them all at the Nexus. “Do you think you are stronger than this?”

  “Listen to the TimeBand, d’Vashti. Listen—! This is your last chance.”

  d’Vashti nodded mockingly. “Yes, I thought so. You have brave words and no weapons. Now, I’ll teach you the dead man’s victory.”

  “Ahh,” the Nexus smiled. “So be it.” He bowed in a curiously inviting gesture. “If that is your choice, then go for it. This will be an interesting death.” The Nexus held up the caduceus he carried so all could see it. He held it aloft like a shield of virtue.

  For just the barest instant, a flicker of doubt flashed across d’Vashti’s face. Then he shook it away and lashed out in anger. “You get to have an interesting death. I get to be right.” He gestured to the Dragons above, giving the order to fire.

  The needle beams struck then. They bounced off the Nexus like water splashing off a wall. The beams splattered outward in all directions. They leapt out across the arena, directly back to the Dragon Guards, striking one after the other, igniting them instantly ablaze. The Dragons’ screams cut off sharply as each one flared brightly and exploded into nothingness. One after the other, they disintegrated, shriveling into shadows of ash that whipped away quickly in the breeze.

  d’Vashti stared in horror. His gaze circled the upper rim of the arena and them came slowly back to the center where the Nexus still held the caduceus high. It gleamed and dazzled. Intelligent energy crackled off of it, sparking and fizzing.

  “See what you have created!” The Nexus roared at him. “Your own hatred comes back to you amplified by the TimeBands, aimed by our memories, enlarged by our wisdom, expanded by our vision of what is possible. Your own mind focuses the energy, because you are wearing a TimeBand too!”

  “No!” said d’Vashti. “I am the authority of the Regency here! I speak for the Cluster—” He put his hands to his temples and appeared to concentrate. He tried to focus his thoughts. He screamed for dreamtime. He turned around and around, staring at each of the TimeBinders in turn, focusing the fury of his thoughts on them, one after the other.

  The TimeBinders flinched. Several of them staggered. Two of them sank to their knees. And then, little Nyota M’bele wailed in pain. “Daddy!” she cried. “He’s hurting me!”

  M’bele, the dark man, came charging down the steps, a one-man avalanche of anger. But before he could leap—

  Nyota screamed again, but this time her voice was amplified out of a dozen throats—all of the TimeBinders in unison, and the Nexus too. “No! No! No! You nasty little bug! I’ll squash you back!”

  d’Vashti staggered. He clutched at his head, as if trying to pull the TimeBand off. He clutched at his chest, his heart—he whirled around, as if something had grabbed him and seized him. He screamed. He began to crumple and collapse, as if that same invisible force were now squeezing him, compressing him into a smaller and smaller space. His cries of pain choked off abruptly. The power of the TimeBinding wrapped him like lightning. He shrank away into nothingness.

  Only the TimeBand remained. It clattered to the ground, empty.

  And then there was silence.

  The Nexus lowered the caduceus. He looked tired, but victorious. He smiled. He grinned. He laughed. “I said it would be an interesting death.”

  And then the whole arena roared and cheered.

  The Nexus held up his hands and waited for silence to return. He had to wait a long time, but when at last the crowd was ready again, he resumed his speaking for the twelve remaining TimeBinders.

  “The Regency is dissolved.

  “Now, let us renew ourselves. Let us recreate ourselves. Let us redesign the future.

  “The Regency is history. In its place, we give this Covenant to you—” The voice of the Nexus rang out as clearly as a bell. He could be heard not only across the disk of the Forum, but across the entire Palethetic Cluster.

  “We hold that life is a gift. We hold that intelligence carries with it the responsibility to use the gift wisely and in the service of life. We hold that life should be a marvel and a delight.

  “Therefore, we take this stand—that life is sacred everywhere. We make this commitment—that we will build a future that works for everyone, with no one and nothing left out. We are the promise—that justice is forever possible.”

  The Nexus looked around the arena, appearing to meet the eyes of every person there. “Let us begin,” he said. “I am sapient. I accept the responsibility.”

  And then—the Nexus stopped. The moment ended.

  Silence fell. It lasted a long time.

  Only Harry Mertz remained in the center of the stadium. He had stopped being the Nexus. The Gathering was over. Harry looked around himself,
almost confused. At last, he nodded a perfunctory thank you and led the pedestal sink back into the ground, thinking he had failed.

  The silence stretched out.

  And then, high in the upper tiers of the seats, a small voice was heard. Little Ibaka stood up and yipped for attention. “I am sapient,” he said, almost stumbling over the word. “I accept the responsibility too.”

  The silence deepens. Ibaka looked embarrassed. But he took a deep breath to renew his courage and took another step forward.

  But then—a huge green warrior lizard stepped forward to join him. Kask rumbled loud enough for everyone on the disk to hear. “I too am sapient. I too accept the responsibility.”

  Ota stood. And other bioforms too.

  Robin rose to her feet. Beside her, a male android stood up.

  Captain Campbell frowned unhappily, not quite understanding, but at the same time understanding all too well. Slowly, she rose to her feet. Her features relaxed, her expression eased into one of peacefulness. All over the amphitheater, all kinds of beings were rising to their feet now; informants, constructs, the remaining members of the Lee family, servant-insects, robots—everyone. And now, Shariba-Jen, Gito, Sawyer and Finn entered the group from the back. Juda-Linda followed grumpily and uncertainly as they pushed their way forward to stand near Captain Campbell, Ota and Robin. Shariba-Jen says, “I am sapient.” Gito hollered, “So am I!” Beside him, Juda-Linda silently wept. Gito turned to her to comfort her, but she pushed him away. Gito stared after her, tears filling his eyes, but he didn’t know what else to do.

  Sawyer and Finn looked around themselves, looked around at this massive celebration of selfhood. It was beyond their understanding; and yet, at the same time, they understood exactly what it was.

  Finns stepped forward and shouted joyously, “I accept the responsibility.”

  Sawyer joined him, “I am sapient!”

  Finn poked his brother. “Well, thank god for that. You had me fooled for the longest time.”

  Harry Mertz looked over at them and they all exchanged happy grins. Harry did not look the same—but then again, no one did.

  Sawyer stepped forward, far enough for everyone in the arena to see him. He began to applaud Harry Mertz. Then Finn, also began applauding. And then the people around them picked it up as well. All around the Forum, sapient beings stood up, clapping and cheering and celebrating their mutual declarations.

  The applause grew and grew, it gathered throughout the Forum. It swelled into a roar of thunderous approval as they all acknowledged their mutual acceptance of The Alliance of Life and what it had brought forth, A Covenant of Justice.

  The Beginning

  Later.

  As they walked away from the amphitheater, only Harry was solemn. The others bounced like balloons in the wind. Finally, Sawyer looked to him curiously, and asked, “What’s the matter, old man? You should be happy.”

  “Perhaps I’m tired,” Harry admitted. “I seem to remember being very depressed the last time I did this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the easy part is done. Now, the real job begins. There’s a lot of work to be done out there. We may have dissolved the authority of the Regency, but there are a lot of little d’Vashti’s scattered across the million worlds who are going to be slow to get the message. All of us—” Harry indicated the thinning crowds. “We’re all going to have to build a new agreement for cooperation in the Palethetic Cluster.” He pointed them toward The Lady MacBeth. “Are you going to be a part of it?”

  Sawyer and Finn looked at each other. “Oh, no—we don’t work for governments.”

  “This isn’t government work,” Harry said.

  “It’s close enough. No, we got you here. You had your Gathering. It was fine. We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but we’d like to get back to our real business, if you don’t mind.”

  Harry glanced at them curiously. “I thought you said you accepted the responsibility of sapience.”

  “Hey, we only said we accepted the responsibility. We didn’t say we were giving up the right to complain about it.”

  Harry took them both by the elbows. “Come on,” he said. “I’ve got a job for the two of you. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Elsewhere on the disk, Star-Captain Neena Linn-Campbell stood brooding by herself. She was staring out off the edge at her beautiful, battered, rugged, old starship. The Lady MacBeth hung useless off its docking spoke.

  As they approached, she turned and waited for them. “Congratulations,” she said to Harry. “You won. I’ve been . . . thinking. About what it cost me. I guess the price was worth it. I didn’t think I’d come through this unscathed—” She shrugged. “I’d like to think I still have the strength to start over, but . . . I don’ t know. Anyway, I’m happy for you.”

  “Are you done?” Harry asked. “I’m here to offer you a contract. The Alliance has asked me to travel the Circuit and spread the word of the new Covenant to the other worlds. It’ll be my job to enroll them in the idea of universal sapience. But I’ll need a ship.”

  Star-Captain Neena Linn-Campbell shook her head sadly. “I wish I could accept that contract, Harry. But I don’t have a ship.”

  “You’re wrong,” said Finn.”

  “What? Do you know something I don’t?”

  Finn nodded and waved to someone approaching from the other direction. Shariba-Jen and Gito came down the docking spoke from The Lady MacBeth, and approached Captain Campbell. He had drawn a big grin on his otherwise blank robotic features. The effect was both bizarre and affectionate. “I’ve got our singularity locked in a tractor beam. EDNA’s pulling it in slowly. It’s gained a considerable bit of mass, so we should be gaining some efficiency there. Gito says he can have it reinstalled in a few hours.”

  “See?” said Finn. “I told you that you still had a ship.”

  “That’s nice,” said Captain Campbell sadly. “But the corporation is still bankrupt.”

  “Um, no—it isn’t,” said Sawyer. And now Ota, Robin, Arl-N, Kask, and Ibaka approached.

  Ota spoke for the crew. “We’d like to purchase shares in the Shakespeare Corporation. We’ve pooled our resources and we have enough to help you forestall foreclosure. We’ve already decided that you should accept the Alliance contract to ferry Harry around the Cluster.”

  “For one thing,” said Gito, “it’ll be a lot safer.”

  “No,” said Neena Linn-Campbell. “I don’t pay you enough for you to have enough money to make a difference.”

  “Oh, we know that,” said Robin. “But you will. We’ve worked it all out. The pension fund, the insurance trusts, some bounty money, that’s a start—plus we’ve arranged to float a little paper here, a little paper there. That, with the deals you know how to arrange should give us enough to keep going for a while. If we can’t make it work after that, we don’t deserve The Lady MacBeth.”

  Captain Campbell frowned. She looked to Ota and Robin. “Was this your idea?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “I wish it were my idea,” Robin admitted. “But it’s Gito’s.”

  “Gito’s?” Campbell looked to the high-gravity dwarf with incredulity etched upon her face.

  Gito scowled and tried to shrug it off. “Well, Sawyer sort of suggested it. But I did the arm-twisting. I figure this is the only way that we can guarantee that we’ll get a fair share of the profits. We’ll have the bookkeeper working for us, for a change.”

  “It’ll be the same bookkeeper, Gito,” Captain Campbell explained.

  “Yep, but Ota will have an equal stake in it too. I ain’t worried.”

  Robin looked to Gito, surprised. “Y’know—for a moment there, I almost thought that you cared about us and The Lady MacBeth, but no. I must have been mistaken.”

  “Right,” growled Gito. “You were mistaken.”

  Star-Captain Neena Linn-Campbell scratched her head thoughtfully. “I dunno,” she said. “I’m skeptical, dubious,
doubtful, and even cynical about the whole idea. But what the hell! If the crew wants to go down with the ship too, why should I deny them that pleasure? All right! We’re still in business!” She turned to Harry Mertz. “You got yourself a ship, old man.”

  1 The term “innocent” as applied to bystanders never occurred to Sawyer Markham. After a short while on Thoska-Roole, he no longer believed in anyone’s innocence.

  2 Three explorers landed on a strange new planet and discovered a race of ferocious four-meter tall, blue-skinned natives living there. The natives practiced many bizarre customs, worshipped strange gods, and circumscribed the structure of their lives with a complex set of rigid taboos and rituals. Very shortly, all three of the explorers had accidentally violated one or another of the native laws and the tribesmen seized them all. They brought the three unfortunate explorers before the High Chief for judging. “You have violated our most sacred laws,” the Chief told the explorers. “I will give you a choice. Death or boonga.”

  The first explorer, a very young man who had not yet fully tasted life nor yet grown jaded with its variety, could not bear the thought of imminent death. He told himself that whatever horrors boonga might inflict, at least he would survive the punishment, so despite his ignorance of the nature of the ritual, he reluctantly chose boonga. “Good. Good,” exclaimed the Chief, whereupon the biggest and surliest-looking of the ferocious four-meter tall, blue-skinned warriors seized the unfortunate fellow, stripped him naked, nailed him to the ground, and proceeded to sodomize him and perform all manner of other grotesque obscenities upon his pale body for seven full days and nights. At the end of that time, the warriors released the lad; shaken, battered, bruised, aching, and sore—but alive.

  The sight of this punishment, and the screams of the unfortunate victim, very much terrified the second explorer; but the thought of death terrified him even worse. So, he too, reluctantly chose boonga. “Good. Good,” exclaimed the delighted Chief. “A very good choice.” This time, the punishment lasted two weeks. And every single one of the ferocious four-meter tall, blue-skinned warriors sodomized the poor chap twice. But, he too survived his ordeal, albeit somewhat worse for wear, and the natives released him with the admonition to go and sin no more.