Of a Note in a Cosmic Song; Part Three

by Nōnen Títi

  Daili painted her own dream of living in small dirt homes with real fires, living off the land, real plants and animals rather than the bion variety, listening to stories instead of watching movies – a peaceful colony. “It seemed so idyllic at first. Thing is, it’s dirty and cold and a lot of work, never mind the dangers and the arguments. Was I really that naive?”

  Nini didn’t think it was naive at all. Many people on Freberer had still lived like that. “They were still a community. I think we’re too used to competing with each other.”

  “So what did they do to keep the peace that we don’t?” Marya asked.

  Nini sipped her drink, thinking. Daili let her eyes go to Jema, with whom she’d discussed this before. Did Jema feel this as an attack?

  “I think that peace is not something you can create or make happen,” Nini said at last. “I think it is a concept of what exists in everything. It is the essence which was split with OT and SJari and needs to be recombined to exist. People are relatively new to that. We have to find our way yet.”

  “We’ll never find our way if we keep destroying every planet we live on in search of metals,” Jema replied.

  Daili immediately knew she had come in vain. For a moment she held her breath, trying to resolve her own dilemma: get up and leave before the water reached her eyes, or let go and admit she was hurt. What she’d really like to do was slap Jema so she’d spill what she kept inside, but she couldn’t do that.

  She put her cup down, but before having a chance to get up, Nini was on the chest beside her. “It’s easy for people to say others are wrong without coming up with a solution themselves, Daili. Don’t listen to them. You care for this colony and that is what counts: To live the peace rather than talk about it or fight for it. At least you are trying.”

  Daili could have hugged Nini then. It amazed her time and again what this quiet woman could do with only a few words. She’d been a user and had lived through ugly and difficult times, but none of it showed in her face: silent and slender – two qualities Daili had always wished for but never had.

  “I’m only helping them look for possibilities because it’s my job," she told Jema anyway. "I’m no more in favour of destroying the planet than you are.”

  “Please don’t find any, or I’ll end up working in those mines,” Marya said.

  “It’s unlikely I will, having no more than hand tools and a small scanner. It takes more than luck to strike gold.”

  “Gold is the last thing we need,” Marya answered. “If we’re going to find something it might as well be useful and strong.” She mentioned the chance that they’d never again have any warmth. What would that do to people’s ability to be tolerant?

  Daili tried, without success, to remember having been cosy and warm on the Ketemer beach. “I know, with my mind, but cannot with my senses recall how that felt.”

  Nini described a similar memory, but one of extreme cold on Freberer when she was working with the healer. In the middle of Station Six she had spent four days and nights in the woods, during which Mektar had refused to make food or fire without explaining why. “It was my own doing. I had mentioned I wanted to be able to be in control of my body as he was, so he taught me. I can’t recall the feeling of being cold and hungry even if I know I was. What I do know is that if I could do that then, I can do this now. No matter what Kun DJar brings, people will adapt if we are willing to trust her. We are not Kunjari yet; we’re still Bijari on vacation.”

  When it went dark outside, Daili realized she had to go home. “The kids will be waiting.”

  Nini let her out. “Give it time,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Daili’s heart was a little lighter when she got home. Even if she’d not really talked with Jema, the big obstacle of going to see her was gone. She asked Laytji why she’d not mentioned the expedition.

  “You’d only worry,” Laytji answered.

  It was true, but Daili preferred to worry than be left out of things.

  Still Captain

  It was like stepping back in time, to the days when he had been prosecutor; the time when Benjamar could play with words and use them to set and reset course, no matter how rough the sea. The only difference was that the kabin used to be manned: Today he had neither legal representatives nor a jury. Maike, Thalo, and Leyon would all speak for themselves. The audience would be the voice of the people and have a vote at the end.

  That idea had been decided on only yesterday by the temporary government – which still included Maike, Wilam, and Roilan – to set an example for the elections and give people a sense of participation; idealistic, if nothing else. Benjamar wasn’t sure who’d come up with it, originally. Roilan, perhaps, but all had agreed. Besides, the more people attending this trial, the better the message would get across.

  The social building had one large central room, outfitted with the benches from the SJilai habitats. Benjamar shared the front wall bench with Maike, Kalgar, and Frantag, although unlike them, he would stand. The audience occupied the benches at the back and side walls and the floor space in front of those. Thalo and Leyon each sat on a chair at the centre, their backs to the audience. Desks or tables were useless as they had neither paper nor law prints. Maybe even more than on DJar, this would be a game of words.

  Leyon appeared the most relaxed. He had been looking around, waving at people he knew. He was on stage, attempting to make a joke out of the whole thing, yet he had heeded Maike’s warning and avoided Thalo for the last eight days. He had taken the summons without a problem, confident, maybe, that he had enough friends to have an advantage over Thalo, who didn’t have much support. However, though the audience had a vote, Benjamar would not allow this to become a competition for popularity: They were both in this cycle and both would be held responsible.

  Thalo was looking at the floor, his left hand rubbing the arm that was in a sling, embarrassed, possibly, about being here. Maike had warned Benjamar that he wouldn’t take well to being put on the spot; he didn’t want a reminder of his previous humiliation. Yet here he was, against his will, because Benjamar had threatened that he’d let Maike repeat her action if Thalo were to refuse cooperation. Unethical, without a doubt, but it had served its purpose. It had also informed Thalo that Benjamar was aware of what Maike had done, so it couldn’t be used against her.

  Key was to get this trial over with before Kundown and to prevent the two men from continuing their retaliation game with words in this room. Just in case, Maike had arranged for a handful of guards to be present.

  The goal of this and any future trial was to end the disputes; life was hard enough already. Benjamar addressed that in his opening speech, stressing that he would not tolerate a society in which Maike or anybody else had to walk around in fear. On the other hand, one mistake should not ruin a person’s life for good, as it had on DJar.

  Aware that half of the population had come here as users, their lives ruined due to the justice system he’d represented, Benjamar waited a moment, but no remarks were made. “Our laws are no longer those of DJar. However, we still have our standards of common decency by which every person will have to abide to make this colony liveable. Aggression directed at other people is not part of that. The purpose of a justice system, no matter how rudimentary, is to seek punishment that prevents a repeat of mistakes made and that sets an example, with the possibility of starting over.” He listed the options they had: Imprisonment was one, but for a limited time, as those cells were not heated and could be dangerous. Other methods of temporarily removing a person from the society could be considered. “I’ve been informed that the fishing kabin that leaves tomorrow morning can use an extra pair of hands. Or we could put them to work involuntarily and see if they are willing to talk it out. What we don’t have, and never again will have, is a Land Beyond.”

  Benjamar also mentioned the lack of law prints or written rules of conduct: Everybody was to be taken on their word of honour. “The
whole process is on trial here, not just these two people. We need to find the fine line between too harsh and too Lenient. You represent the voice of the people; your decision should be based on what you think would be reasonable if it were you on trial, not based on who your friends or enemies are, or on what everybody else in the room decides.”

  He stressed the need for a permanent solution. He would welcome suggestions, but the focus was to be on the current problem. “Whatever happened in the past, whether on DJar or on SJilai, is no longer important. The only issue we will discuss here today is that of the recurring attacks while on Kun DJar and how to put a stop to it.”

  From the slight relaxation in Thalo’s posture, Benjamar concluded that his message had gotten across. He continued his address of the audience. “You, as the people, are in a manner of speaking the jury, but I remind you that I have the last word, and I will take the liberty of kicking out of the room anybody who does not behave.”

  The room was silent. Maybe they already realized that this was not just a show to bring some excitement to their lives. He turned to Maike, who would have to start.

  She did as he’d asked: As briefly as possible she described the sequence of attacks and counter-attacks she had dealt with since their arrival on Kun DJar. She mentioned the storm and the danger of having people detained in a situation like that, as well as the danger of the destructive retaliation cycle itself.

  When she finished Benjamar directed his attention to the two men in front of him. It was time for them to have their say. He asked if they agreed that this was a hopeless situation which should be brought to an end – a closed question. They had little choice but to answer affirmative or have the audience turn against them right away.

  “Sure, but he’s the one who keeps starting it,” Thalo answered.

  “Which would put you in a perfect position to stop it.”

  Thalo didn’t respond to that.

  “Yes, but I’m only trying to stop him from hurting people,” Leyon said.

  Benjamar recognized the invitation to ask for details. The boy was still acting as if he was performing a show. “And who gave you the right to do that?” he asked.

  “It’s only fair.”

  “You don’t decide what is fair. That is what we are here to determine.”

  “But–”

  Benjamar silenced him with a hand movement. He was still captain of this kabin. If Leyon felt he could call the shots, he might find himself scrubbing the deck on a real kabin soon.

  Benjamar waited for the audience to quiet down and prepared for the next round.

  To See Justice Done

  Jema could not see the faces of the two men in the middle, but their posture spoke for them. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what they must be thinking. This was supposed to be a trial, but Benjamar’s opening words already promised it would never work: How could you possibly let the audience decide on the outcome when it was clear that one man was favoured? Not that she cared for Thalo, but liking him was not what this was about, and Jema was sure that Marya wasn’t alone in wanting to get back at Thalo for the terror he’d spread around Habitat Three.

  So why had she agreed to come? Obviously not to see justice done – not only because of the bias, but also because of Benjamar’s utilitarian definition of the word, which completely ignored the autonomy of the people involved. But if not justice, then what? Curiosity? Or confirmation that the anger she’d felt towards Benjamar at Anoyak’s hearing had been justified?

  Benjamar turned to Leyon. “Do you like being in that prison?”

  “No.”

  “Yet you take every opportunity to sit there?”

  “I’ll stop when he’s gone,” Leyon answered, causing laughter in the audience, which visibly irritated Benjamar.

  “What is killing Thalo going to accomplish for you, apart from ending up in one of those cells for a very long time?”

  “I don’t know.”

  That wasn’t an answer Benjamar found acceptable. He forced Leyon to describe every unprovoked attack he’d made on Thalo. Though Leyon might have at first enjoyed the attention, Benjamar fired question after question at him, giving him no time to recover. He also managed to divert every attempt Leyon made to try and say what Thalo had done wrong.

  Despite her annoyance at the set up of this trial, Jema had to admire Benjamar for his control of the room: The people had gone quiet and Leyon no longer looked around for their support. No wonder Thalo shifted in his seat when Benjamar turned to him. “Do you like sitting in that prison?”

  “It doesn’t bother me.”

  Thalo wasn’t as cool as he tried to appear during the interrogation. He had to rephrase his answers a few times and stuttered when Benjamar asked if he could not accept that he was here and make the best of it, the way half the population of Kun DJar was trying to do.

  “Make the best of being made a slave? Like you said, DJar didn’t allow for one small mistake. It’s too late to turn back.”

  “It is never too late to say sorry even if the mistake was not that small,” Benjamar replied.

  Marya poked Jema’s side. Benjamar clearly referred to the attack on Tarin, who, like Nini, had not come today. She and Remko openly talked about it amongst friends, but this was a bit too public.

  “Why did you attack Maike?” Benjamar asked.

  “I was angry. I didn’t think.”

  “Not thinking is a lousy excuse for trying to kill somebody,” Benjamar answered. “Were you out for revenge?”

  “Damn you,” Thalo said.

  “I guess they had an agreement about what was not to be mentioned, if you know what I mean,” Marya whispered.

  Would Benjamar have done that? Make it a condition that Thalo cooperate or else…? But how could they keep what happened a secret? How could the audience make a fair decision if part of the underlying motives were kept from them? How much of a secret was it in the first place?

  Benjamar turned to the talking people and waited until they silenced themselves, after which, without giving any indication that he was ready to resume, he thundered: “Do you attack alone or do you have help?”

  Thalo shrugged and mumbled something.

  “Do you attack others when they have company or do you wait until they’re alone?”

  Benjamar played with his voice: That last question was barely audible to Jema. The unexpected changes had Thalo nervous.

  “Was Maike alone, or was anybody with her?” Benjamar repeated when Thalo still didn’t respond. This time his question came as a demand.

  “I didn’t look for that,” Thalo answered.

  “I asked if anybody was there!”

  Jema drew in a silent breath when Benjamar’s words rolled through the room. Marya elbowed her again. “Serves him right,” she whispered.

  “No.”

  “Do you make a habit of attacking women or is Maike the only one?”

  Thalo looked away, which, of course, was unacceptable.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

  Thalo did as Benjamar ordered and repeated that he was only angry and didn’t want to be here.

  Benjamar lowered his voice. “Many people did not want to be here and all had just as bad a deal on DJar as you did. It wasn’t your place to punish others even if you’d done nothing wrong on DJar.”

  “I know that. I didn’t care then. I felt that if I suffered everyone else should as well.”

  Benjamar nodded and gave Thalo some space. “Do you still feel like that or would you be willing to redeem yourself and start talking to the people you attacked?” he asked in an almost friendly tone.

  Jema felt like telling Marya to be quiet, since Marya commented on everything that was being said.

  When Thalo didn’t respond but for a shrug, Benjamar raised his voice again. “Answer me!”

  Thalo jumped up. “If you want to stick me in that prison, go ahead, but I won’t play this stupid game anymore!” His pose was not threatening, but it
had Maike and two guards rushing toward him.

  Benjamar motioned for them to stand back and stepped up close to Thalo. “Never challenge me like that. Nobody challenges me and you don’t make the demands here; I do. Now I suggest you sit down and answer my question before I’m forced to consider this non-collaboration.”

  This time Benjamar’s words were calm and quiet. He knew he had won and Marya had been right. Thalo sat back down and admitted defeat. Marya started whispering again but stopped when Benjamar looked in their direction.

  From what Jema knew about court cases, and that wasn’t much, this sort of confrontation would have had the opposition object and the judge stop it, but Benjamar was the judge and nobody in the room would do anything against his will. It was exciting, if nothing else.

  Benjamar directed his attention to Leyon. “Maike was in charge. It was her job to deal with what happened, and she did. That should have been enough, but if you think it wasn’t, I can ask her to let you find out for yourself.”

  “Shit,” Marya exclaimed, because she just couldn’t keep quiet.

  Leyon was clever enough to say nothing. The message was clear and still the words had not been spoken. Benjamar reminded him that all people were born with the ability to talk, which they should use to come to a solution today. “So you have a choice: You can agree to talk to Thalo under supervision and otherwise leave him alone, or you can spend the next Kun DJar year in a cell.”

  He was getting ahead of himself now. Wasn’t he supposed to ask the audience for their opinion?

  “And if you are so troubled by what Maike did, I suggest you talk to her. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Thalo shook his head.

  On request, Maike answered she was willing to give talking it out a try, but after a cooling off period.

  “Oh come on, Maike,” shouted a large man sitting close to Jema. “Let’s see some action. Turn us on. They won’t talk anyway.” His words had a ripple effect on the audience, many of whom started roaring with laughter and then shouted agreement.