Of a Note in a Cosmic Song; Part Four

by Nōnen Títi

  There was no surprise in the outcome. Physical harm was done, so even if it wasn’t abuse, it was wrong. The six agreed that Frimon was guilty of hurting Sinti. The shock came with their suggestion of the repercussion: The rule said equal punishment to the committed offence, so Frimon should pay the same way he’d made Sinti pay: Fair is fair.

  It was utterly ridiculous. They based their verdict on a law stating that corporal punishment was wrong and then called for exactly that. Had these people all gone mad?

  Frimon looked at him, not showing more than a faint smile. Had he expected this? Was he mocking Benjamar for failing, once again, to make this a proper trial?

  Some people in the audience were already heading for the door as if the matter was settled. Benjamar had to shout over the voices to get their attention. “I’m still judge here. As far as I’m concerned that means that I have the final say in this. We will resume tomorrow.” Before the protests could start, he left the room.

  How was he to justify ignoring the jury after having already ignored the original law by letting the jury replace the whole population? How, on top of that, could he ignore the law they had voted on and which clearly stated equal punishment for crime committed? He’d have to reread that statement that had been so easily accepted as law. He’d have to review the law to see if it stated whether the jury was there to make suggestions only or did they actually have the final word. Was the judge only a mediator, as Frimon had said? And if so, was there any use in Benjamar being there? Any fool could run a meeting. Or was Yako right – was the equation of “honour and justice” with the word “judge” merely meant to keep the masses obedient to the system that controlled them? What did that make him, in that case, but an executioner?

  He walked home at a fast pace to avoid those who would try to catch up with him. There was just enough time to drink a large cup of wine, while running through the bundle of papers, before the invasion of his home began.

  “It states, in your own words, that the jury decides whether a party is guilty or not, but there is no mention that they have the last word concerning the punishment,” he told Roilan.

  “But that’s what it meant.”

  “If it doesn’t say it, it can’t be accepted. Those things have to be taken literally.”

  “We’ll rewrite it,” Roilan said.

  “You can, but then it cannot be used for this trial.”

  “Oh, come on, Benjamar. We can’t write down every single word for everything.”

  “When you were made user on DJar, wasn’t there a judge with a written law who decided you couldn’t be sent to the Land Beyond for what you’d done? Had that not been there, the judge or jury might have decided they didn’t like your face.”

  “Okay, fair enough. So now what?”

  “Now I think about it and make the final decision tomorrow.”

  “But then you decide all by yourself. Is that fair?” Roilan asked.

  “Whether or not it is, we’ll have to consider for the next time.”

  Benjamar showed Roilan the page where the definition of the referendum was. “Equal punishment for crime committed. So what does equal mean?”

  “It means the same.”

  “Does it mean identical or similar or the same in value?”

  “The same in value.”

  “And how do you define that value?”

  Roilan admitted he only now started to realize how complicated it all was. How easy to assume that these words were clear.

  “You may find you need to start over again on a lot of those laws. Do yourself a favour and ask Frantag for help. He has done this before,” Benjamar said.

  “What about you?”

  “I’m going to the new settlement. I’m no longer available after this.” It sounded good. Even better since Roilan accepted it as an already decided matter. Benjamar was pouring them each a wine when a knock on the door produced Harmon, who refused the offer of wine, but sat down anyway.

  “So, do you need me for anything or did you just drop in to say hello?” Benjamar asked.

  Harmon glanced at Roilan. Whatever it was he had come to say, he’d wanted to say it in private.

  “Tell me what the difference is between penance and punishment, Harmon. I heard the shouting just now, but I’m not sure.”

  Happy to oblige, Harmon explained that penance was asking forgiveness so a person could start over. It wasn’t seen as a bad thing. Punishment was negative. It left people feeling angry and revengeful.

  “The easy way out,” Roilan scorned. “You kill someone, you ask forgiveness, and you can start again.”

  “I didn’t ask you,” Benjamar told him.

  “It isn’t that easy,” Harmon said, blushing.

  “Have you done it?”

  Harmon nodded without looking at them. To the question of why he stayed with the Society, he answered that he’d found help and security, that Frimon was like a father to a lot of people there. He believed that to be the reason Sinti had joined; she was in constant need of affection and approval. She wasn’t the kind of person to be independent.

  Benjamar silently wondered if Harmon wouldn’t have done a better job at representing Sinti. “So do you believe that Frimon has done her wrong, Harmon?”

  “Hey, you can’t ask that,” Roilan interrupted.

  “If I can talk to you then I can talk to Harmon.”

  “But you’re asking him for an opinion.”

  “I ask him, because he doesn’t force his opinion on me like some people I know.”

  Roilan resigned. “I’ll never win an argument with you,” he said.

  “I should hope not. Not until you’re willing to look at every issue from both sides.”

  “Okay, let’s hear your opinion,” Roilan said, turning to Harmon.

  If nothing else, he was able to admit his wrongs and willing to reconsider immediately. With some more years of experience, he would one day make a good leader.

  “I think the question should not be whether Frimon was right or wrong, but whether the people of the Society have the right to hold the ceremony of penance without having to answer to Kun DJar law,” Harmon said.

  It was so simple and so obvious! So simple that Benjamar had overlooked it, along with everybody else involved. Worse even, this had been the exact problem in Sotyar’s trial! Why had he not thought about that? Why concern himself with the new laws and not with the much more basic matter of religious freedom? How could he have been so stupid?

  Neither of the two young men interrupted his thinking, but the arrival of another visitor did. It was Wolt, reporting that the majority of people was shocked by the jury’s suggestion and would not agree with it. “They say it’s the same thing as what DJar did by sending people to the Land Beyond for murder.”

  Benjamar nodded. It no longer mattered what the majority thought. Wolt wasn’t shy and had some wine as well. Benjamar put Harmon’s earlier proposal in front of Wolt and Roilan. “Is he right? Is that what the real issue of this trial should have been?”

  “No,” said Roilan. “You can’t have laws if they don’t apply to everyone.”

  “Yes,” said Wolt. “People choose to join the Society, so they choose the consequences.”

  It was worth having these young people discuss this; anything to help him make a decision tomorrow.

  Before Kun was all the way down, three more people came to his door. Frantag was one of them. He visited more often, but he hadn’t expected the crowd. Maike knocked a few minutes later, accompanied by Jema. The room was barely big enough to hold them all.

  “Some people are born troublemakers,” Frantag said. “She challenged you in front of all those people and now she dares come back. She’s done that to me as well before now.”

  “The question is, was she right to do that?” Benjamar asked.

  “No, of course not. You don’t question authority in public. It could have weakened your position.”

  “What if I was wrong?” Benjamar insist
ed.

  “But you were the judge.”

  “That doesn’t mean I know everything, Frantag. I learn every day. Actually, I learn more nowadays. The strange thing is that the subject I’ve learned more about than ever before is justice, and do you know who I learn it from?”

  Frantag indicated for Benjamar to tell him.

  “Exactly those who never had a voice. Those who had the chance to experience the justice of DJar and think about it. Not those who studied it. They only repeat what they’ve been told, like I did.”

  Maike joined them. “I hear you’ll be governor of the far settlement.”

  “I’m thinking about it. Are you still going?”

  “Definitely. No offence, Frantag, but I’m sick of this place,” she said.

  Frantag shook his head. “If you two take along that whole Sacred Praise Society with their beliefs I’ll be able to run this town a lot more peacefully.”

  “Thanks very much,” Maike answered.

  “And Tigor. You can have him too,” Frantag added. He chuckled at his own joke and then left them to go talk to Wolt. Maike turned to say what had brought her here in the first place.

  “I think it’s a really bad idea to allow what the jury asked for. You know what I’m saying? Bue knows Sinti deserved a good spanking.”

  “Do you agree with them doing that?”

  “No I don’t, Benjamar, but this won’t stop them. What you’ll end up with is a show. People will flock to come and see it for entertainment.”

  “I have no intention of allowing it, Maike. I’ll just have to come up with a good alternative.”

  She was satisfied with that. Benjamar excused himself to attend to the discussion that had started between Roilan and Jema. Still feeling insulted from being called an idiot, Roilan was having his say about that now.

  “If you thought you were going to influence the jury claiming minority discrimination, you were wrong. I had it stricken off the record.”

  “Things cannot be stricken when you have a jury, stupid; the moment it’s spoken it is considered; that goes subconsciously.”

  “Talk about stupid; you could have convinced every person in that jury to vote against Sinti, yet you make a big show of it and get no say at all. Frimon will be grateful to you.”

  “Which is exactly my point. I could have influenced them because the whole process is wrong.”

  Roilan was challenging her to come up with a better system when Benjamar stepped in. He’d had enough of these squabbles. “This is still my home. Feel free to continue your discussion outside.”

  “She ignores the facts and what’s important, Benjamar,” Roilan said. “She isn’t rational.”

  “If it was merely about rational it wouldn’t be important,” Jema replied.

  Benjamar pulled Roilan out of the way before cornering her. “What you consider important is no longer relevant. You’ve had your chance, but you were too busy making your point.”

  “At least I don’t cower behind law prints.”

  He opened the door and made her step through it. “I still have things to do.” It was an invitation for all of them to leave. Benjamar held Frantag back a moment. “Does this convince you that you’re needed to bring reason back to this place?”

  “I’m only one person, Benjamar.”

  “So am I, and I want you to officially make me governor of that new settlement, so I can leave this job to you.”

  It was late by the time Benjamar arrived at the homes of the Society. Chances were he would be waking them.

  “No, I was still up,” Frimon answered his apology.

  He invited Benjamar in, but his two boys were there and Benjamar preferred to talk in private. Outside, he explained what he had come up with. “I can’t offer better than that.”

  It didn’t take Benjamar long to speak his ruling the next day. So it wasn’t exactly protocol for Frimon to listen to a verdict he had agreed with earlier, but nobody needed to know that. As long as the people felt that some justice had been done, even if they were disappointed at not getting the show they’d hoped for. The solution would guarantee peace, which was what this place needed more than anything – more than the few laws that had been sacrificed.

  In town, the Society would abide by those laws. Once in the settlement they would have the right to their own rituals and justice, as long as it only involved people who had consented to follow the ways of the Society.

  Frantag pronounced Benjamar the new governor of that settlement.

  TREYAK

  The only time somebody remembered that Aryan still existed had been when his name was picked for that loser trial. Apart from that, he might as well have been gone already. Well, that was just fine with him – he had no desire for their company, especially those traitors who had promised a return to a life of freedom where a physical challenge was as good as one for honour. One word from Maike about some jungle over the mountains and they’d all deserted him. The new settlement was all the rage and nobody needed an old man who wanted to return to space. Well, space was free of bigots and traitors; he’d put up with their ridicule long enough. Tonight he’d get his own back.

  Aryan carried the illuminated pot inside his jacket, and the amount of lander fuel he had decided to sacrifice in an empty wine pouch, while the tools were in the pack on his back. The thrill of the anticipated action quickened his pace through the dunes and up the cliffs. He’d felt dull for so long. Now was the time to be thankful for all the exercise he’d had walking in and out of the crater.

  By the time he reached the science station, Kun was setting. A brief check of the scope confirmed that nobody was inside, so Aryan turned to face the town in the distance. “I hereby declare the future void!” he yelled over the emptiness below. “After water, sand, bugs, and microbes, I give you fire!”

  It felt good to shout like that, even if no echo came in this soundless land. Serve them right, the people in that workshop, saying he couldn’t have another fuel can just because Roilan had said so. Damn Roilan; he’d get his electricity. Aryan smeared the organic film over the equipment inside the scope. Damn Bas and Kalim too, with their Postlearners titles, refusing to take his word for what he’d observed with his own eyes. “Both moons at peri-djar – or rather peri-kundjar – and both full. It was like that the first time it rained life,” Aryan had told them.

  “There’s no scientific evidence that moons can affect nature in that way,” Kalim had replied.

  “How the hell would you know? What did you learn about life falling from the sky?”

  “It’s true that volcanoes were affected by the proximity of Agjar, but lava isn’t rain,” Bas had said.

  Bigots, all of them. Kalim especially. After having heard the seawater idea from the expedition, he had ranted and raved about Jenet causing Daili to keep quiet about what could have saved both their lives, and now he was doing the same thing – so desperate to strut their knowledge that they closed their eyes for natural instincts. If Lisa had been still alive, she would have listened; Daili would have.

  Aryan poured the lander fuel around and under the scope and rolled the soaked string down as he carefully descended the cliff. Give them all something else to do for a kor or so. That lander was going to fly. Aryan would get it ready, by himself if need be. He’d not admit defeat. In the event the thing blew up with him in it, he could only hope that the pieces would set fire to the entire town.

  From his vantage point in the dunes far beneath the scope, he watched his handiwork explode. First the flame that travelled to the liquid, then the engulfment of the scope with a jacket of yellow and blue, slowly turning white. Then for the sound effects: The first sparks told him the film had ignited, and then the whole sky lit up with a spectacular display of power that would, without any doubt, be heard and seen in town.

  Aryan didn’t stay to watch the end. He reached the crater in the early Kunlight. They’d never know. Kun DJar might and if she did, she would know where to find him. She could send
the fog to get revenge on Aryan – that would set things right, maybe – but he wouldn’t be the only one to pay.

  The fog never came, but two guards arrived before dusk. Aryan crawled out of his lander and yawned. “Man, I didn’t know other people still existed.” No, he’d not seen or heard anything last night. He never did. “It’s real silent here. Had a bit much wine, you know what I mean? Slept like a log.”

  They bought it and left. Two birds with one stone: The weather instruments had been inside the scope. Roilan would be next, but not yet. Let them cool down a bit. First he’d get that lander finished. He’d need a fuel can. Damn that idea of lending it to the farmers; they’d lost it, too miserable to stand up for themselves. The protesters had taken it, because it had killed some bugs!

  Aryan took a large drink of wine before packing up to return to town for a while. He poured the rest into his flask for on the way and carried the new pouches on his back to trade for food. That was easily done. He put the new supplies inside his home before heading to Maike’s. The kid wouldn’t be there; he’d run away.

  Maike was there. She stood in her door. Her youth startled him: radiant, healthy, full-bodied and sparkling. The expedition had brought her back to life. Her hair was cut and surrounded her face with a veil of red, while her evergreens looked him over.

  “Are you going to invite me in, at least?” he asked.

  “That depends.”

  “I’ve got an offer to make you. There’s a spacekabin in orbit. It could be our new home. How long will it take you to pack?”

  “Forget it, Aryan. She won’t go anywhere and neither will you. You can’t even walk straight right now.”

  He was walking fine. “So, I’ve had a little wine. Not like you’re such a prude. How about some adventure? I’m going back to SJilai and I want you with me.”

  “But I don’t want to be with you,” she said.

  He stepped forward. People were walking by and this was no theatre show. “Can’t you at least let me in so we can talk?” he asked.