The message of eternity.
Hell is black, infinite, sparkling.
Hell is worth avoiding.
(THE LIARS : I. Kavanin.)
Lieutenant Sharva was the first of the legal representatives to make a preliminary statement. He stood, tall and dark, massive as an oak, speaking with quiet confidence. What he said was a model of conciseness.
"Your Honour, the position of the Space Corps in this matter is clearly based on one premise. Had the Athena been allowed to continue on the course she was following after the blowup of her engines, then she would inevitably have plunged to Earth. She had become, in effect, a deadly missile of enormous mass and devastating speed, pointed at one of the most densely populated areas of our planet. We have reliable estimates that as a result of such an impact at least fifteen million lives would have been lost. There was therefore no alternative but to destroy Athena.
"In support of this, we shall present reports from Corps and civilian tracking stations on Moon, Mars and Earth; recordings of conversations between Commander Brace's ship and these stations, made at the time of the emergency; and Commander Brace's own official report, transmitted to Corps HQ immediately after the destruction of Athena. As Your Honour has already pointed out, there has been a great deal of careless talk and deliberately angled comment on the subject of this affair. Commander Bruce did not lightly take his decision to destroy Athena. He acted in good faith, on the basis of the facts presented to him. He acted in the sincere belief that, however terrible the results of his action, they would be infinitely less terrible than the alternative."
"Good for you, Lieutenant!" said Helen Lindstrom as Sharva resumed his seat.
"Don't start cheering yet," Tom Brace said. "It's going to be a long war."
"Thank you, Lieutenant Sharva," said Judge Alote Jones. He rapped his gavel on the bench in front of him to quell a growing murmur of conversation. "Mr. Morton?"
"Your Honour." Morton rose to his feet and bowed. Slim, sharp featured, he stood for a long moment looking round the court, his gaze lingering for a moment on the crowded balcony, before turning to face the judiciary. "Your Honour, I would like to congratulate Lieutenant Sharva on the brevity and clarity of his opening address and thank him for his statement of the basic premise on which rests the position of the Space Corps. However, I feel obliged to point out that he has in truth presented us not with a basic premise, but an assumption—this arrogant assumption that an organization composed of ordinary human beings is incapable of doing wrong, or committing any error; and further, even more dangerous, the extension of this assumption to cover the actions of any single member of the Corps to the point of demanding immunity for him.
"I have no doubt that Lieutenant Sharva will produce, as promised, all the data necessary to prove beyond a shadow of doubt that if unchecked, Athena would have crashed into Earth, causing the havoc he has suggested. But I would ask you all to bear in mind most earnestly that these will be Space Corps figures, produced by Space Corps experts in support of a Space Corps decision."
It was at this point that Judge Alote Jones broke in. "Mr. Morton, you will confine your remarks to a statement of the position of the Excelsior Corporation. If you have nothing to say in this respect, please have the goodness to sit down."
"That's telling him," Helen said approvingly.
Bruce grunted. "Too damned late. He's already drawn blood."
Down in the court, Alger Morton inclined his head in the direction of the judiciary. "My apologies, Your Honour. I had no intention of wasting the court's time; I wished merely to draw its attention to the existence of this particularly large sacred cow."
Alote Jones rapped his gavel, his black face heavy with anger. "Mr. Morton! IH have no more of this fine."
"As Your Honour pleases," Morton said with a deliberately mocking formality. "Now, with regard to the position of my corporation in this matter. In order that this should be fully apparent, I am forced to move back to the time before Athena left Earth, when the passengers who were on that last, ill-fated voyage were in the process of selection.
"At this time, the man Persoons—who was the self- confessed ringleader in the act of piracy which resulted in the takeover of Athena by the colonists—made what have since been proved to be a number of completely false statements during interviews with Excelsior Corporation officials. Not only did he make false statements about his past record, but he also produced forged references as to his past employment, character and background ..
Judge Jones intervened, yet again. "In that case, Mr. Morton, surely he should never have been allowed to board the ship in the first place?"
"Your Honour, there is little doubt of the truth of that statement," Morton said. "Unfortunately, my corporation was not aware at the time of the false statements and references."
Judge Jones said: "Mr. Morton, under the terms of its charter granted by the Colonization Supervision Committee, your corporation is bound to take all possible measures to verify any statements made by a potential colonist, before allowing him to sign a contract"
"That is perfectly true, Your Honour," Morton said.
"And yet you still admit that the man, Persoons’ references were not checked?" Alote Jones said. "Surely you must offer some explanation for this omission?"
"I can offer explanation," Morton said smoothly. "In theory, Your Honour is quite correct, all references and all statements made by potential colonists should be checked.
"However, the Excelsior Corporation deals with up to ten thousand individual colonists during a year. To check out each one of these people completely would necessitate the employment of a massive force of inquiry agents and enormous expenditure. Our security branch has therefore evolved a system by which a random sample of files is checked out completely."
"How large is that sample, Mr. Morton?" demanded Alote Jones.
"Unfortunately, I do not have those figures at hand," Morton said blandly.
There was a sudden buzz of discussion in the court
Alote Jones rapped his gavel and said: "It is my impression that by such a breach of the conditions of its charter, the Excelsior Corporation renders itself liable to the payment of a considerable penalty."
"With respect, Your Honour, the Excelsior Corporation is fully aware of that fact, and I make this admission with the full knowledge and backing of my board of directors," Morton said. "Many a man who has achieved nothing but failure here on Earth has gone out to the colonization planets and become a successful and respected member of that colony. If the Excelsior Corporation is in error in this matter, it is surely an error on the side of humanity?"
"The clever bastard!" said Tom Bruce, pushing his chair back noisily and rising to his feet in disgust. "If Sharva's going to beat him, he'll need to use a club!"
Morton had resumed his seat, an expression of satisfaction on his thin face, and Judge Alote Jones was announcing a recess. Helen turned the sound down and turned to face Bruce.
"He'll pull something out of the bag when the time comes," she said.
"He'd better!" Bruce growled, pacing the small room, hands slapping the side seams of his trousers as he strove to release some of the pent-up anger that seethed in his body. "I underestimated Morton. Take that admission about their failure to check Persoons’ references, for instance; even if the CSC slap a fine of half a million credits on Excelsior, Morton knows damned well that he'll be getting value for money. Excelsior Corporation, the people's friend, the big- hearted corporation that gives the little men a break. And opposing that, the Space Corps, an impersonal, military organization that destroys five hundred people at one swipe and makes no apology."
"Tom, it's only a beginning," Helen protested.
"And a bloody bad one at that!" Bruce said. "Sharva's out of his class."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Commander Bruce," said Lieutenant Sharva. He had entered the room during Bruce's last speech. Now he stood, massive and dignified, his dark eyes regardin
g Bruce steadily.
"Commander Bruce didn't mean ..." Helen, flushed with embarrassment, moved to avert the impending clash.
"Don’t make apologies for me, Helen," Tom Bruce said, his jaw jutting forward as he glared at Sharva. "Morton made rings round him down there, and Sharva knows it."
Sharva replied, still miraculously calm. "Morton has started by pulling out all the emotional stops he can think of. Surely when we come down to dealing in plain facts, he's going to find something of an anticlimax on his hands?"
"Unless he's holding something in reserve that we don't know about yet," Bruce said. He flung out his right arm in an impatient gesture. "Ah, what the hell's the use of chewing it over? I'm going to have a drink, and maybe some lunch. Coming, Helen?"
"That's one of the things I came to tell you," Sharva said. "We have an invitation to lunch. The Presidential secretary called me straight after the session ended. There's a flycar waiting for us right now."
"Henry Fong?" Bruce said. "I wonder what the old fox wants."
Sharva shrugged his heavy shoulders. "I don't know, but that invitation sounded mighty like an order to me. Shall we go?"
Helen settled in the well-sprung chair and reflected that in this amiable, post-lunch mood Henry Fong looked more than ever like a slimmed-down Buddha in modern dress. The meal had been delicate and civilized, Chinese cooking at its best, served by Fong's manservant, in his own unostentatiously luxurious penthouse apartment. Conversation during the meal had ranged over a wide area of interests; in particular Helen had been impressed by the evident erudition of lieutenant Sharva on the subject of Oriental philosophy, in the discussion of which he had more than held his own with Henry Fong, one of the world's foremost authorities. Tom Bruce had been silent.
The Presidential secretary made a steeple of his slender, beautifully manicured hands and beamed at each of his guests in turn. "Brandy, Commander Lindstrom? Or would you prefer something sweeter—a Cointreau, perhaps?" Helen declined, smiling, and he turned his attention to Bruce. "Commander? Brandy? Good." He motioned to his manservant. "And for Lieutenant Sharva, perhaps another cup of coffee?"
"Thank you, sir," Sharva said.
Fong waited patiently until his guests had been served and the manservant had left the room before speaking again. Although there had been no previous mention of the inquiry whatsoever, he made no preliminaries. "Now, Sharva; as I understand it, Judge Jones has decided against a preliminary address on the part of Mr. Zakoyan. Is that correct?"
Sharva lowered his coffee cup. "Yes, sir. It was his ruling that, at this stage, Zakoyan must hold merely a watching brief for the colonists' relatives. He may be given an opportunity to address the court at a later stage, when the facts are established to the satisfaction of the judiciary."
Fong examined the fingernails of his right hand with approval. "Yes ... a sound man, Alote Jones, if a mite stolid. But then stolidity may very well be a prime virtue in a Supreme Court Judge, don't you think?" The question hung in the air for a moment, but his listeners gauged correctly that it was purely rhetorical and maintained a respectful silence. "I take it then that the main purpose of this afternoon's session will be the presentation of the Corps testimony?"
"Yes, sir, commencing with the playing of Commander Brace's report," Sharva said.
"Yes," breathed Fong, maintaining the sibilant as he gazed blandly at his listeners. "A commendably terse and well-considered tape. However..."
"I gave the facts as I saw them," Bruce said, leaning slightly forward in his chair as he eyed Fong keenly.
Fong nodded benevolently. "You did indeed, Commander. However, I have taken the liberty of supplying the evidence programmer at the inquiry with a lightly edited version of the original."
His listeners could hardly have been more startled if he had grown a second head. The three of them gazed at him for a moment in complete astonishment.
Sharva was the first to speak: "Do I understand you correctly, sir? You have tampered with official Space Corps, evidence?"
Henry Fong smiled as he raised his hands for silence. He turned his attention to Bruce. "Commander, when the fate of the Athena was still in some doubt, you contacted Moon Base and spoke to the President."
"That is so," Bruce said, frowning.
"And you explained the situation?"
"As well as I could, under the circumstances; there was very little time to be wasted," Bruce said. "I told the President that if it turned out that the Athena was on collision course with Earth, as we suspected, then the only course of action if we were to avoid the greatest disaster in the history of the human race would be to destroy Athena and the people aboard her."
"And the President's reply to this suggestion?"
"He merely confirmed that, as Corps officer on the spot, I must follow the dictates of my own conscience and come to my own decision on the basis of the facts presented to me."
"And you were satisfied by this advice?"
"This was an emergency, Mr. Fong," Bruce said, his voice developing a sudden edge. "A decision had to be made."
"And you were the one who had to make it?"
"Yes."
"In that case," Henry Fong said, "I must confess myself slightly mystified. Why did you find it necessary to call the President to obtain confirmation of something you knew in the first place—that the decision rested with you?"
"I simply felt that it was the right thing to do," Bruce said.
"Or did you, perhaps, feel that by obtaining such an endorsement from the President you were insuring yourself against the consequences of a possible wrong decision?" said Fong.
Tom Bruce was bolt upright in his chair now, his green eyes wide with anger as he stared at the imperturbable Henry Fong. "Mr. Secretary, you have no right to make such an assumption! I must ask you—"
Fong raised one slim hand. "All right. Commander, please don't take the suggestion seriously. I merely put it to you at this point as an illustration."
"An illustration of what!”
"Of the kind of questions that would undoubtedly have been put to you in the course of the inquiry by Morton, and/or possibly Zakoyan, had the original version of your report, with its reference to your conversation with the President, been allowed to stand,"
Fong said. "This reference is not included in the otherwise identical tape, which is now in the hands of the evidence programmer; and not you, Commander Lindstrom or Lieutenant Sharva will make any statement in public or private that might in any way involve the President's name in this affair. Should he fail to survive the present crisis, no possible advantage can be gained for anyone by smearing his memory by association with the Athena affair; and should he, God willing, survive, it will be equally essential that his present saintly image should be maintained. If it were ever to be suggested that this father of the entire human race could be associated with a decision to kill five hundred of his children, the consequences would be disastrous."
"You realize that you may be asking Commander Bruce to sacrifice his reputation, career, perhaps even his life, by demanding this?" Sharva said. "Morton has already made considerable attacks and is no doubt preparing others. Without the President's backing he stands alone and undefended." '
"You underestimate yourself, Lieutenant," Fong said blandly.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Secretary, but I cannot take your view," Sharva persisted. "Commander Bruce has the right to—"
"All right, Sharva," Tom Bruce said suddenly. "As far as I'm concerned there's no question about what has to be done. I'm prepared to accept Mr. Pong's request that the President should not be brought into this matter. I'm content to let the facts speak for themselves, without any special pleading."
Henry Fong rose to his feet. "Commander Bruce, I expected nothing less of you; but, on behalf of the President and all those who depend on him, thank you."
The afternoon session of the inquiry began with the playing of Tom Brace's report tape. This was followed by reports from the tracking-statio
n operators involved in the operation. The technical reports did not make for drama and the entire hall seemed to be sinking into an uninterested lethargy. What, m the morning, had promised to be a large-scale clash of opposing forces was now settling into the dull grinding routine of a normal courtroom.
A certain expectancy was regenerated by the appearance of Rear Admiral Junius Farragut Carter on the stand, called there by the judiciary as an expert witness to clarify any points of interpretation arising from the recorded reports. Squat built, red brown of feature and wearing his heavily beribboned dress uniform, Admiral Carter's reputation had preceded him. Here at last, it seemed, was a man who held some potential as a dramatic element. But he disappointed the TV men by answering promptly all questions put to him by the judiciary, unbendingly, acting every inch the part of the correct, sober officer. At length, after conferring among themselves, the judiciary were apparently satisfied, and Judge Jones addressed the legal representative of the Excelsior Corporation. "Do you have any questions to ask of this witness, Mr. Morton?"
"I have indeed, Your Honour."
The Admiral watched Morton's approach with a baleful eye, his weather-beaten face darkening, massive shoulders hunching slightly. A sudden wave of tension swept through the courtroom.
Morton's line of questioning began with a mildness which only served to heighten the anticipation of his listeners.
"Admiral Carter, you appear here in the role of an expert witness on technical matters; however, might I venture to suggest that your long and distinguished career qualified you equally as an authority on matters of Space Corps procedure and disciplinary practice?"
Carter acknowledged the question with a noncommittal grunt.
"In the Space Corps, in contract with other, similar organizations, there would appear to be times when rank is considered of little importance; is this a fact?"
Carter's round, stubbly head seemed to sink farther in between his heavy shoulders as he watched Morton. "Others may advise, may suggest, but each member of the Corps is a highly trained individual, prepared to take complete responsibility in any situation."
A Thunder Of Stars Page 11
