by Mark Zubro
“I’m not currently ready to try a daring escape. There are no odds in my favor.” He thought, not until I’ve learned a lot more about this place, found out how to pilot a battle cruiser, save Joe, and get several zillion light years away.
The guards surrounded him. Kenton walked next to him. After a few moments, the floor transitioned into what Mike thought was most like a huge escalator. The guards used one of the communicators as they began their descent. They met no one as they passed through several levels to a transport vehicle that looked much like a Volvo from the seventies but far more boring and blocky - very gray, with little more than slits for windows. It rested on a thin cushion of air. The interior seemed to be made of brushed leather.
The trip through vast tunnels revealed miles of gray stone. The lighting never rose above the level of dim.
“How far are we going?” Mike asked.
“A thousand miles or so.”
“How long will that take?”
“About an hour of Earth time. It’s the security along the way that is slowing us down. The entire route had to be mapped out along with alternatives at each junction. There are sixteen basic variations of the possible route. Extra security had to be placed at every exit and entrance. While these tunnels are used to transport prisoners, we don’t usually have prisoners who can fight back.”
“You think I could really escape?”
“Well, maybe, but there are also considerations of someone trying to kidnap you for their own devices. I’m not sure who knows how powerful you are. No one is. So escape, kidnapping, it’s a mess.”
When they stopped, a phalanx of red-tunicked guards was waiting for them. They all had yellow glows around them. Mike was escorted down a short hallway. Doors did not open and clang shut. Instead, whole sections of wall appeared and disappeared as they approached them.
They emerged into a vast open area. The light was bright as high noon on sun-lit snow. They were on the ground floor of a space that stretched beyond Mike’s sight. When he looked up, he was surprised not to see a shining sun. Far and high above was a vast dome of rock. Starting nearby and traveling as high up in the dome as Mike could see, he saw egress points. He thought the area at his level looked a lot like the Roman forum might have in its heyday only without the pillars. Everything was very square and blocky and regular and seemed to be carved from the living stone. Other than Mike and his entourage, there were no other people in the vast enclosed space.
“Where is everybody?” Mike asked.
Kenton said, “This is Central Court Square. Radiating from it are miles and miles of adjudication rooms. On a normal day you would see thousands of people. No one was permitted here today except those connected with you and Joe.”
“Will Joe be here?”
“I assume so, but I have not been informed either way.”
They entered a building with an immense, arched entrance. Carved on either side were animals Mike didn’t recognize. He thought one looked like an elephant who’d had a trunk job but with a longer neck. Another looked like a male lion with a thyroid condition and a very bad haircut. The creature’s teeth matched nothing Mike knew of on Earth. The hallway was lined with statues of people in tunics.
“Who are they?” Mike asked.
“Past high judges of the ruling council.” Kenton pointed. “The one with the longest robe is the oldest. That was Kluth, the aged one, giver of all laws from the earliest times, first High Judge of the ruling council, a great man and highly revered. Children are still brought up with moral tales about him, sort of like your King Arthur, Abraham Lincoln, and Pericles of Athens put together.”
They proceeded through a series of corridors to a room with a lengthy table running down the center. Around it were thirty-three chairs. Between the door Mike had entered by and the table, there was fifty feet of empty space on all sides. The walls were unadorned carven rock, very beige and pale with the light emanating from unseen sources, like Mike’s cabin on the battle cruiser. The chairs seemed to have been carved out of the same stone as the walls. The floor looked like flat granite.
“No one ever needs to move a chair?” Mike asked.
“This is a formal hearing room. Everything is very rigidly placed.”
Five men and three women in tangerine robes sat at the table along with two men in blue. Mike saw Bex enter the room with a contingent of three males dressed in purple robes the same as his. They sat at one end of the table.
Kenton said, “The people who sit at this table are the Ruling Council. I think it’s kind of like the Supreme Court in your country, at least what I understand of it. Here they have far more power. Their rulings are final, but they can defer their judgment to what you would call a Senate.” Kenton led Mike to a seat at the far end of the table from Bex. Kenton indicated that Mike should sit. Guards in red continued to stream into the room until they stood shoulder to shoulder around the entire perimeter. The colorful robes contrasted with the drabness of the surroundings.
Yellow glows surrounded everyone but Mike who took out his communicator early on and kept it in his hand. If he was going to do battle, he would be ready. Despite Kenton’s assurances, Mike feared that at their will, they could hurt him in very significant ways.
From a door opposite from where Mike entered, several black-robed men entered. They surrounded another man who was encased in a bright pink glow. Mike looked for a moment, then leapt to his feet. It was Joe.
Mike tapped at his communicator. In a few seconds his blue aura flared, deepened to navy blue, and expanded to encompass the two of them. The yellow glows brightened. Bex and his contingent positioned themselves between Mike and Joe.
“Stop,” Kenton said. “Mike, stop.”
Mike would not be stopped. He tapped the front of his communicator, and his blue glow grew vast and encompassed the room. The yellow glows shrank. Bex and his colleagues worked their communicators. Red beams glanced off of Mike’s shield. Bex aimed his communicator at Joe. Mike reacted faster than thought. In seconds Bex crumpled to a heap on the floor. Mike strode to Joe whose pink glow disappeared. He forced the contingent of guards aside. The blue glow pulsed and swirled around the two of them. He reached the man he loved. They fell into each other’s arms.
Joe looked as if he’d been beaten by every man in a vast army then run over by all the tanks, and then they decided to get nasty. He was emaciated, bruised, cut, and abraded.
Joe muttered, “For an Earthling you seem to be doing all right.”
“This isn’t my idea of a good time. You look like the remnants of the last battle.”
“Pretty much.”
“I’m going to destroy them all,” Mike said.
“Don’t,” Joe said.
Mike kept the blue glow strong. He propped up Joe with his arm. Joe smiled at him. He skin was dead white, but he was warm and alive, and they were together for at least a few moments. The red-robed guards got as close to Mike as they could.
The purple-robed contingent had surrounded Bex. He was shaking his head and getting to his feet. Mike was glad he hadn’t killed him. Bex glowered at the two of them. Mike knew he had made an enemy for life. Perhaps he would be sorry he hadn’t killed him. Even if he could or wanted to turn over secrets to technological advances, he doubted it would mollify Bex. He was one pissed alien.
“Why don’t they use the oxygen deprivation weapon?” Mike asked.
Joe said, “Bex is in charge. You got him before he could give the order. Probably few, if any, of the others have them. I didn’t know they existed until they used that one on us on Earth. You just don’t ‘poof,’ automatically come up with a new weapon and have them mass produced. As far as I know they’re using prototypes.”
Bex removed the helping hands. He strode as close to Mike and Joe as the blue glow allowed. He kept his voice in a near whisper as he snapped and snarled at them. “I am going to dedicate my life to making sure everything you ever think, do, or say causes nothing but pain and misery to
yourself and anyone you love.”
Mike said, “How about if I bring this entire complex down on us? You won’t be able to make any more threats. You’ll be dead, and if I ever see my husband in this condition again, I will destroy whatever I can before you kill me.”
“Perhaps you’d like to try unconsciousness for a while.” Bex’s fingers sped over the face of his communicator.
A soft gong sounded. Bex’s fingers stopped. Moments later a man in a plain white robe entered. Mike thought he must be the oldest living thing he had ever seen. The man’s face was a sea of wrinkles. His eyes didn’t seem to focus on anything or anyone in the room. Mike presumed he was blind. Nevertheless the man strode without assistance to the center chair at the table. He was followed by nine men and women clad in beige tunics. Qan, from the prison, entered after them.
The man in all white spoke in a soft voice. “I would like all of you to take your seats, now.” Bex and the others moved to obey this command almost before he was done speaking. The guards resumed their posts around the wall.
Mike and Joe stood in splendid isolation. Mike tried to reach into Joe’s mind. His probe only revealed to him faint twitches.
“What have they done to you?” Mike asked.
“All my implants are gone.”
Mike remembered Joe saying that this was a devastating thing to happen to an inhabitant of these star systems. Untrained as he was and unused to probing, still he tried to reach into the alien minds around him. He found a solid wall. In Joe’s mind, he found little beyond pain and fear.
Joe said, “My mind is less open to you because my implants are gone.”
“I thought removing implants was supposed to kill you.”
Joe said, “It seems the government has been concealing bits of knowledge. This is supposed to be an open society, but the detective division of the police seem to know a great deal less than the security police.”
Mike said, “I’d make promises about revenge for what they’ve done to you, but I suspect you know as well as I, how unlikely it is for this situation to turn out good for us.”
“As you say on Earth, ‘we’re in deep shit.’”
Kenton motioned to Mike and Joe, “Please,” he said, indicating chairs.
Mike sat next to Joe. The red-robed guards remained stationed along the walls. At the table men and women with all the same color tunics sat together. Two chairs on each side of Mike and Joe remained empty. Kenton sat in the first filled chair on their right. Qan in the first chair on their left.
Mike’s outfit of jeans and flannel shirt was different from all the others. If he didn’t stand out because he was a prisoner, he would stick out because of his clothing. He decided he liked the idea. Until somebody forced him, he was going to wear his jeans and shirt as badges of his station.
The seats were cold, rigid, unyielding, and uncomfortable. Mike thought if he could get the pillow concession on this planet, he’d be rich.
Joe slumped in his chair with his eyelids drooping. Mike put his hand on his husband’s arm. “Joe needs medical assistance.”
The gentleman in the white tunic spoke. “I am Mulk. I am High Judge of the Ruling Council. I wish to proceed in an orderly fashion implementing the rules and customs concerning the tampering with an alien culture by one of our own.”
Mike’s fears and frustrations overcame his need to obey Kenton’s warning to keep quiet at this meeting. He blurted out, “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Joe leaned toward him so their bodies touched at shoulder and knee. He clasped Mike’s hand and shook his head a fraction of an inch.
Mike glanced at the others at the table. He saw little sign of sympathy or hope. He felt Joe’s warmth and closeness. He also understood the caution in the shake of his head. He subsided for the moment.
Mulk said, “You will be silent.” The softness of his tone did not disguise the menace and the power behind it. Mike felt far more intimidated by him than he did by Bex and all the power the security officer tried to wield. Mike subsided.
Mulk said, “We will proceed in our way in our time, or we will begin this again another day when you are willing to follow what is the rule of law for our society. You can rot in your mountain perch until the galaxy disintegrates, or you can be as cooperative as possible. You must choose.”
“What does my cooperation ensure?” Mike asked.
“Nothing.”
Mike inspected the faces of all those sitting around the table. Many of them gazed at him with simple curiosity. A few seemed to be sympathetic or pitying. He saw that about a third of them were female. Bex and most of the military contingent looked ready to strangle him with their bare hands, if they could ever get close enough.
Again, the reality of his situation overcame Mike’s frustration and fear. He nodded his head.
Mulk spoke, “We have come to pass sentence. From the moment Joe tampered with you, your fate was sealed. Our laws are explicit and precise. We uncovered the fact in Joe’s mind that you are aware that on our planet, the police are judges as well. With implants all is known. It is against someone like you with a mind unlike ours and implants beyond our capability to control, about whom action must be taken.”
Bex spoke up. “Many of you saw that demonstration earlier. He should be executed, deprived of oxygen until he is dead.”
The members of the council in the beige robes looked shocked and upset by this statement. One of the beige-clad women spoke. “I am Crua.” Her voice was soft and mellifluous. She said to Mike, “You fascinate me. You frighten me. I have not met someone who we cannot control. Do we frighten you?”
“Would you feel better if you thought I was frightened? Would it be a sign of cooperation if I said I was?”
“You are a strange being to us. You are a threat to us, or many perceive you as so.”
“Why not just hire me?” Mike asked.
“I beg your pardon,” Crua said.
“Supposedly, I’ve got this fabulous knowledge. Okay, why not offer to have me live in splendor for the rest of my life as long as I share it? Why does it have to be taken from me by force? You’re the ones with the laws and all the nasty consequences to all of which I am an unwilling partner. I did not grow up under your laws or as part of what you are. Why is there a problem? It’s your laws that are preventing me from the simple expedient of telling you everything. I’m willing to blab, or reasonably so.”
“Are you offering to sell us what you know?” Bex asked.
“I guess or at least trade it. Let us go to some remote star system or return to Earth. I give you the knowledge. You let us go.”
Several of the tangerine-clad figures frowned at this. A woman in that color said, “I am Torna. What has happened between you two is not countenanced. We can’t break our laws and customs for simple military expediency. With your death, all threat to us from the knowledge you have ceases to exist.”
“You can’t know that,” Bex said. “Who knows what Vov knew or what records he may have left lurking in holes around the galaxy? We need the knowledge to protect ourselves.”
Mike said, “If you all are going to make random death threats, I can save you a lot of trouble and just say ‘no.’”
Joe said, “They’re going to destroy you. Any deal they make is going to be a double cross.”
A blue-clad figure spoke for the first time. “I am Fot. What Joe is saying is accurate. I cannot be party to any lie. This is an off-worlder. He must realize the gravity of his situation, and he is not to be lied to. We must not be accused of failing to follow custom.”
Bex said, “You can follow your custom and be dead. I prefer to take action and live.”
The white robed figure held up his right hand. The flesh was loose on it, the folds and wrinkles mottled with purple. “There are many who wish to conduct a full interview in front of the Senate. Others wish to pass sentence in the Senate.”
Bex said, “You’re going to talk yourselves into your graves. He h
as been told he cannot trust us. Why should we trust him?”
Crua said, “The military and spy complex is well represented in the Senate. Is the Senate likely to defy the wishes of so powerful a faction?”
“They can and they have, to their great detriment.”
Fot said, “By all rights, Joe should be put to death. Yes, Crua, and we haven’t executed anyone in a thousand years, but no one in all that time has violated the law as Joe did.”
Mike asked, “If Vov was this dangerous, why wasn’t he pursued with more vigor? Joe told me he was sent to look for Vov as a sort of punishment for being a bad cop.”
