Saving 1641

by Robert Jay Dilger

  “Anyone else who runs away will get the same treatment,” the officer shouted. “We have our orders.”

  Conor levitated the officer into the air, shook him violently from side-to-side, snapped his neck, and pounded his body against the concrete sidewalk. Panic ensued. Everyone dropped their weapons and ran down the alley toward Emory Boulevard as fast as their legs would carry them.

  “Over there!” Selder shouted. “There’s movement up ahead!”

  Anne spotted a steady stream of uniformed guards and ground assault commandos pouring out of an alley less than a block in front of her. She was about to open fire when she noticed that they weren’t armed. They also weren’t heading in her direction. Instead, they ran down the Boulevard toward the factory.

  “What is going on?” Selder asked.

  Anne lowered her weapon.

  “What do you make of that?” Selder asked.

  “I don’t know,” Anne answered. “Whatever they are running from, I hope that it’s on our side. They look scared to death.”

  “What do we do now?” Selder asked.

  “I guess that we follow them to the factory,” Anne answered. “Maybe we can figure out what is going on. By the looks of things, this fight is over. But just in case this is some kind of a trick, everyone keep your lasers out of their holsters and spread out. We don’t want to be bunched up together, especially if they have any laser cannons left.”

  Anne and her troops headed for the factory, stopping momentarily as they passed the three broken laser cannons.

  “I know that we destroyed one of these,” Selder announced to no one in particular. “Who took out the other two?”

  “I have no idea,” Anne answered. “I have never seen anything like this. The firing tubes are twisted like a corkscrew. How in the world did that happen? And take a look at this dead guard. She is covered in blood, but she has no wounds. None whatsoever. It is almost as if someone ripped her heart out from the inside.”

  Someone behind her shouted, “Look out, something is coming at us from behind!”

  Anne turned around and looked up. A hovercraft flew down the street, moving fast, just above ground level. Several of her troops raised their laser pistols and took aim, but just as they were about to open fire a voice echoed in all of their minds, “Hold your fire, I am a friend. Repeat, hold your fire. I am a friend.”

  The hovercraft, six robocameras, and three police hovercraft whizzed by, heading down Emory Boulevard toward the factory. The robocameras were broadcasting the mass destruction throughout the Consortium.

  Chapter 34

  VICTORY?

  “Are you sure that she is going to be okay?” Conor asked for the umpteenth time.

  Checking several sensors the robomedic answered, “Her prognosis continues to be excellent. Her new kidneys, liver, and left lung are all fully functional. There is no indication of rejection. Her broken bones are healing well. All damaged nerves and muscles are rejuvenating nicely. The laser burns on her arms, legs, and shoulders should be completely healed in a day or two. I was also able to save nearly all of her hair follicles. It will take a few weeks, but her hair will regrow and retain its natural coloring and luster. Her facial restoration was a complete success. Her left eye has been fully restored. No one will be able to tell the difference. Her right leg was problematic, but, as you know, I was able to save it as well. No need for prosthesis or cloned materials. She will walk with a noticeable limp for a week or so, but she should regain full function of the leg soon thereafter.”

  The robomedic fell silent as it picked up a medical sensor and pointed it in Conor’s direction.

  “If I may be so bold,” the robomedic stated as it checked the sensor’s readings. “Although your medical readings are well above normal, other than brief visits to the restroom and the vending machines, you have not left Ms. Jordan’s side since her arrival. It is important for humanoids to get at least six hours of sleep during every cycle. Despite these readings, it is my medical opinion that you should get some rest. There are sleeping quarters available on the 8th floor for visitors. If you would like, I could reserve a room for you. There is no additional charge.”

  “No thank you,” Conor answered, resuming his vigil at Kathryn’s side. “I want to be here when she wakes up.”

  “As you wish,” the robomedic replied, turning its attention back to Kathryn’s diagnostic charts.

  Kathryn was three days into a medically induced coma. From her neck down, she was encased in a full, restorative body cast. Only the tips of her toes were exposed. Her head was wrapped in translucent organic bandages. The bandages prevented infection and assisted the thousands of medical microbots which were restoring her facial features. The bandages would eventually dissolve into her skin. The body cast would have to be cut off, but it would leave no lasting marks. Kathryn’s eyes were closed. Her breathing was slow, but steady. If not for the body cast and bandages, she looked at peace, even angelic.

  Knowing that Kathryn was getting the best medical care possible, Conor leaned back in his chair and focused on the meeting taking place three floors above. He sensed 32 distinct heartbeats. An instant later, an image of the room and its occupants materialized in his mind. Most of the occupants wore high-ranking military insignias on their shirts and blouses. A few were dressed informally. Others were dressed like they were about to have their hologram taken. They wore bright, colorful scarves and sparkling, showy jewelry around their neck and wrists. Those were probably financiers. The room itself was rather ordinary. It had well-worn, government-issued carpeting that looked like it had not been replaced in years. Store-bought two-dimensional paintings of various government buildings were hung on the walls. Three antique phosphorescent lighting fixtures provided barely adequate lighting. One of the phosphorescent bulbs flickered noticeably. Several cloth-covered couches had been brought in and were lined up along the room’s outer walls. They were filled by assorted staff and guests. One man was wearing a chauffeur’s uniform. He was sitting next to Dee Sanders, who did not look pleased that he had been allowed into the room. The principals were seated on antique wooden chairs placed around a very large, rectangular table. The phosphorescent lights emitted a soft hum. George Respoola was making a presentation.

  “Because they were simply following orders, the guards and off-world militia involved in the incident on Emory Boulevard have not been charged with any crimes,” he announced to Brandix and the other dignitaries seated around the table. “However, they have been dismissed from government service and placed on probation for 10 years. None of them can hold any government position until their probation period is concluded. They have been informed that they will be charged with treason and be subject to the death sentence should any of them fail to report in a timely fashion any contact with former Justices Casseday or Kourdar, or any of their known associates and accomplices. We have also detained several of Casseday and Kourdar’s financiers to see if any of them knew of, or were involved in, the incident. Accountants are examining their recent financial transactions as I speak. We have also detained most of the former Justices’ personal staff. Their interrogations are underway. Confessions concerning their complicity are expected and they will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Should any of them be given the death sentence, any viewer royalties will be used to help pay for the reconstruction of Emory Boulevard. We are tracking down the missing staff members and expect to have them in custody soon. The Hopkins mercenaries posed a special challenge. As you know, their activities were not sanctioned. Nonetheless, it was decided to grant them full pardons for their actions during the incident. They will not be charged with any crimes, nor will they be required to provide any compensation to the government or private parties for the damages they caused. They have also been granted full immunity from any private lawsuits seeking compensation, including lawsuits filed by the families of those guards and off-world militia who were killed during the incident. As you know, several videopaper edit
ors have called for the arrest and imprisonment of Anne Hopkins and her mercenaries, calling them vigilantes. These editors are also demanding that we confiscate their personal assets and turn them over to the families of those they killed during the incident. Given the continuing controversy concerning their role in the incident, the Hopkins mercenaries have also been placed on probation for 10 years. We believe that this action is warranted given the gravity of the situation and the continuing debate over the appropriateness of their actions. For the record, Mr. LaRocque wishes to note that he objects to this decision. Finally, there is still no sign of former Justices Kourdar or Casseday. A bounty of 20 million credits for information leading to their arrest has, so far, not yielded any results. They have, seemingly, disappeared without a trace.”

  “Thank you,” Brandix announced from his seat at the head of the table. “I am certain that I speak for everyone on the Court when I congratulate you on your excellent efforts in this matter. With you in charge of the search, I am certain that it is only a matter of time before both Kourdar and Casseday are brought to justice.”

  Brandix pushed his chair away from the head of the table and stood up. He then gestured for Respoola to sit.

  “The capture of former Justices Casseday and Kourdar is this government’s highest priority,” Brandix continued. “But there are also other pressing matters that this government must also address without further delay. In an effort to return to some resemblance of normalcy, the Court met this morning and ratified the results of the most recent election. I am pleased to announce that Michael LaRocque is a now a member of the Interstellar Court of Justice.”

  The room erupted in loud applause.

  “And,” Brandix continued as the applause died down. “After some discussion, we decided to fill our two Court vacancies on an interim basis. We discussed the appointments with two individuals this morning. I am pleased to announce that they have both agreed to serve.”

  The room fell to a hush as Brandix motioned to George Respoola to stand.

  “I am pleased to announce that George Respoola has been appointed to fill one of the seats,” Brandix stated.

  The room erupted in loud applause again.

  “And,” Brandix continued, pausing for dramatic effect. “The Court has appointed Dee Sanders to fill the other seat.”

  Everyone clapped and shouted out their congratulations to both of the new Justices. Respoola gave everyone a proud, military salute and Dee’s smile stretched from ear-to-ear as she pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and dried several tears of joy forming in her eyes.

  “They will both serve for a period not to exceed three years when, at that time, an election will be held and the winners will complete the unexpired terms of the former Justices,” Brandix continued. “Casseday had 36 years remaining on his term and Kourdar had 42 left on his.”

  Michael was stunned. He had no idea that the vacancies were going to be filled on an interim basis, or that Dee was being considered for one of the seats. Part of him was happy for her, but the other part wondered why she didn’t tell him about the appointment. After all, weren’t they going to sign a contract? Didn’t he have a right to know what his future partner was planning to do with her life? Shouldn’t they share everything, especially something as important as this?

  Brandix continued on about the need for a government subsidy program for the further development of Callista, a planet that had been rebooted five years ago and auctioned for settlement and mineral extraction. The planet’s economy had been expanding at a slower than expected pace. An animated discussion ensued concerning the terms of the proposed subsidy, but Michael couldn’t keep his mind on the topic. He kept looking over to Dee, wondering why she had not told him about her appointment.

  “Justice LaRocque, what is your position on this?” Respoola asked, directing his question at Michael.

  All eyes turned in Michael’s direction. Michael wasn’t paying any attention to the conversation.

  “Justice LaRocque!” Respoola repeated, this time letting his voice rise a little louder to get Michael’s attention.

  Michael turned toward Respoola.

  “Your position?” Respoola repeated.

  Michael paused and took a long look at Dee.

  “I would like to discuss the situation with Justice Sanders in private before committing myself one way or the other,” Michael stated firmly.

  The room erupted in whispered conversations. Brandix had just said that he supported a three-year moratorium on all taxes normally applied to the planet’s mineral exports. Michael’s noncommittal was taken as a sign of disloyalty. Brandix, for his part, shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Justice Sanders has already stated her support for Justice Brandix’s plan,” Respoola continued. “Are you suggesting that you want to discuss the matter with her anyway?”

  “Yes,” Michael answered without hesitation.

  A very awkward silence engulfed the room.

  “There is nothing wrong with private discussions among Justices,” Brandix announced. “In fact, I think that Justice LaRocque and I would benefit from a private conversation. Don’t you agree Justice LaRocque?”

  “Of course,” Michael responded, recognizing that Brandix wanted to lecture him on how things were going to be done under his chairmanship. “We can all benefit from the open and candid exchange of information.”

  Recognizing that they had been dismissed, the dignitaries rose from their seats and, one after another, headed for the door. As she left the room, a woman wearing a general’s insignia was overheard saying, “LaRocque is in for a real surprise if he thinks that he can buck Brandix. Brandix will cut him off at the knees.”

  Alex was seated on a couch directly behind Michael. Standing up, he whispered into Michael’s ear, “Do you want me to stay?”

  “No, I can handle this,” Michael answered, watching Respoola push his chair from the table.

  Alex and Respoola headed for the door, walking side-by-side, each keeping a wary eye on the other. They did not say a word as they entered the hallway and headed off in opposite directions.

  “I assume that none of that was an accident,” Brandix started, as soon as they were alone.

  “No,” Michael answered, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t like what you are doing to Anne Hopkins and her people. If it wasn’t for them you and I would not be sitting here.”

  “Look,” Brandix continued, his voice laced with a “listen to me I know what’s good for you” tone. “The weapons charges brought against her and her companions have been dropped. She is not being billed for any of the damage that she and her companions caused. Six government buildings and eight privately-owned skyscrapers were completely destroyed. The entire Boulevard has to be replaced. It is going to cost more than six billion credits to get that sector of the city back up to code.”

  “They were promised 10 million credits,” Michael answered.

  “Not by me,” Brandix responded.

  “They earned it!” Michael shouted, pounding his fist on the table.

  “Perhaps, but it is not coming out of my pocket,” Brandix replied.

  “The government should pay for it,” Michael continued. “This government would not exist without Anne Hopkins.”

  “Oh, now I understand,” Brandix stated, a sly grin spreading across his face. “You want the people to pay for your ascent to the Court. That sounds a little narcissistic to me. Why should the people pay your blood-credits for you? You gained office largely because of Anne Hopkins’ efforts. I was already on the Court. You are also the one who promised her 10 million credits. I never promised her a thing. Why should the people pay for your advancement? You should pay for it yourself.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Michael answered. “You know that I don’t have that many credits sitting around. The only way I could get that many credits would be to sell my votes on the Court to the highest bidder.”

  “Welcome to the real world,” Brandix annou
nced, his face lightening up even more.

  “I will never sell my vote,” Michael stated firmly.

  “Then, Hopkins will never get paid,” Brandix stated with a shrug of his shoulders. “This government is not going to pay Anne Hopkins a single credit. The videopaper editors would go nuts. I don’t need or want that distraction. And, by the way, just in case you were wondering, I discussed this issue with both George and Dee before offering them their appointments to the Court. They both are in full agreement with me. Hopkins gets nothing beyond clemency and amnesty. In fact, she’s lucky to get that.”

  Conor sensed someone approaching the door. Sniffing the air, he recognized the scent. Hurrying over to the medical lab’s door, he pressed his palm against its exit pad. The door vanished. Alex stood dumbfounded in the hallway, his hand reaching for the door’s entrance pad.

  “What gave me away?” Alex asked. “Sound or smell?”

  “Both,” Conor answered. “I heard someone approaching and then I smelled you. Your deodorizer can’t fool my nose.”

  Alex sniffed at his right hand and then his left.

  “I can’t smell a thing other than my deodorizer,” Alex continued, obviously annoyed that Conor’s sense of smell was now better than his own. “I like the mint-flavored deodorizer myself.”