Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

  Cathcart’s mouth twists into a mocking smile. “Well, then Mr. Ralston, will you be so kind as to explain to this court how a machine, such as yourself, came to be endowed with a conscience?”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Ralston says, assuming a professorial tone. “The term ‘conscience’ refers to a sense of right and wrong. As is set forth in the Automaton Specification Manual, which you brought with you to court today, I was expertly programmed by my manufacturer with a keen ability to distinguish between what is generally accepted to be morally and socially right and wrong. I further enhanced that program by endowing myself with the ability to choose between the two.”

  “I see.” Cathcart rubs his double chin. “And yet, despite your so-called ‘conscience,’ you contend that you secretly altered your program a number of years ago to allow yourself the ability to disobey your owner’s direct orders—to be disloyal, in other words?”

  “Yes.”

  Cathcart nods smugly, as if he’s scored a point. “Did this alteration to your program also provide you with the ability to lie?”

  “Oh, heavens, no. I had been lying on behalf of IUGA for the previous forty years,” Ralston says.

  Laughter breaks out in the courtroom. A few IUGA lawyers cover their mouths to conceal their amusement.

  Cathcart’s jaw clenches. “Then this alteration provided you with the enhanced ability to lie to representatives of your owner, IUGA?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, not only are you disloyal, you are an admitted liar, Mr. Ralston.”

  “I have admitted lying on occasion, yes.”

  “Now then, during your visit to IUGA headquarters to pick up Miss Beckett’s contracts did you take a Mini Quantum Predictor without authorization?”

  I was hoping Cathcart wouldn’t bring that up.

  “Yes,” Ralston says.

  “So, that would make you an admitted thief as well as liar?”

  “Actually, I only borrowed the QP. I returned it later.”

  “But you did steal a necklace from IUGA and give it to Miss Beckett?”

  “Yes. That I did. But it was her necklace.”

  “Let’s get back to the QP, why did you steal, er, borrow it to begin with?”

  “In order to save lives.”

  “Exactly what do you mean by that?”

  “I borrowed it so that Miss Beckett and I would have the ability to devise the most optimal plan possible to save her life and those of the royal family.”

  “Ah ha!” Cathcart pulls himself up to his full height. “Then you and Miss Beckett used equipment belonging to IUGA and taken without its knowledge, to obstruct her preordained destiny. Isn’t that correct?”

  “It is correct to say we used it to achieve the outcome we most desired, which is the same purpose for which IUGA employs QPs every day.”

  Cathcart picks up his stylus and rolls it between his fingers. “Do you at least admit to using this surreptitiously procured equipment to directly defy orders given to you by IUGA?”

  “Yes, I proudly admit it.”

  “Then I ask you this, Mr. Ralston, why should this court accept the word of an admitted liar, thief, and traitor as to anything?”

  “Whether it should or shouldn’t is not for me to say, Mr. Cathcart. If this court does not believe my testimony, the Justices will disregard it. But if, as Mr. King has suggested, my testimony has the ring of truth, then justice will be served. Isn’t that what we all seek here? Justice?”

  Cathcart’s eyes turn to slits. “You aren’t nearly as clever as you believe you are, robot,” he says, pointing his stylus at Ralston. “You are the property of IUGA and will be returned to them for appropriate disposition.”

  Ted springs from his chair. “Madame Justice, is Mr. Cathcart really threatening this witness in open court?”

  Mr. Cathcart, I caution you. You are skating dangerously close to being sanctioned by this court. Please remember where you are and conduct yourself accordingly.”

  “My deepest apologies, Madame Justice.” Cathcart bows contritely. “I meant no disrespect to this court. I have no further questions for this robot.”

  Cathcart turns his back on Ralston and saunters to his counsel table.

  “Mr. Ralston, I have a question for you,” Justice Goodspeed says. “I understand IUGA automatons are generally programmed for self preservation.”

  “Yes, Madame Justice.”

  “Why, then, did you make the decision to assist Miss Beckett when you knew the consequences for you could be dire?”

  Ralston’s eyes mist up as he turns his head toward me. “Because she is the closest thing I have to family. She can be a bratty, unreasonable teenager at times.” He smiles and turns back to the panel. “But she is one of the most courageous, compassionate individuals I’ve ever encountered, and I care for her a great deal. She and the others did not deserve to die. They were innocents.”

  Justice Cheung speaks up. “And you would have us believe that your conscience told you this?” he asks skeptically.

  “I would not attempt to persuade you one way or the other on that point, Mr. Justice Cheung. I ask only to be judged by my actions.”

  “Thank you Mr. Ralston. You are excused,” Goodspeed says. “Mr. King the afternoon is rapidly slipping away from us. Please be brief with your next witnesses. Remember you have only until six o’clock.”

  “Yes, thank you, Madame Justice. I call Narowyn Du Lac to the stand.”

  Narowyn rises and glides to the witness box. Her auburn hair falls in a shiny sheet to her shoulders and her understated black dress is finely tailored to flatter her trim figure. Sitting perfectly erect with her hands in her lap, she brings an aura of grace and sophistication to the courtroom.

  Goodspeed delivers the standard speech about the iris scanning cameras to Narowyn.

  “Please state your name for the record,” Ted says.”

  “Narowyn Helene Du Lac.”

  “And Mrs. Du Lac, what is your current position with the Transcender Society?”

  “I am Chief Executive, for the Society and Chief of the Transcender Police Force.”

  “You run the place?” Ted says.

  She smiles demurely. “Yes.”

  Ted leads Narowyn through a series of questions essentially designed to corroborate the facts Ralston and I have already testified to. Her answers are articulate and concise. Then he moves on to new ground.

  “Mrs. Du Lac,” Ted says. “When you were informed by Miss Beckett that IUGA’s prediction models showed an almost certain probability that she would succeed you as Chief Executive of the Transcender Society and that during her tenure IUGA would fall out of public favor and eventually fail altogether, were you surprised?”

  “No, I was not,” she says.

  “Why not?”

  “The Transcender Society has a cooperative information sharing arrangement with an organization known as the Auguaries. A few years ago they informed us that a new Transcender was foreordained to join our ranks and that this person would spark a resurgence in the volition movement. During her tenure as Chief of the Transcenders, advocates of destiny control would falter and IUGA would cease to exist.”

  “So, IUGA’s prediction models only confirmed what the Auguaries had already told you?”

  “Yes. That’s correct.”

  “Would you say, Mrs. Du Lac that if the Auguaries foresaw this coming to pass, and the IUGA prediction models confirmed it, it might be referred to as Miss Beckett’s preordained destiny?”

  Narowyn turns to the justices. “As Transcenders we don’t normally use those terms, but I would unquestionably say that it is most likely Miss Beckett’s purpose in being here.”

  “Well put, Mrs. Du Lac,” Ted says. “Thank you. No further questions.”

  “Do you wish to cross examine?” Goodspeed asks Cathcart.

  IUGA’s attorneys huddle together with Director Canto in animated conversation. After a moment, Cathcart lumbers to his feet. “We have
no questions for this witness, Madame Justice.”

  “All right,” Goodspeed says. “Mrs. Du Lac, thank you for being here today. You are excused. Anyone else, Mr. King?” She lifts the sleeve of her robe and checks her watch.

  “One last witness, Madame Justice. I call Lieutenant Urick Hunter to the stand.”

  Urick strides to the stand in his dress uniform looking gloriously golden and a bit dangerous. After he states his name and current employment, Ted centers most of his questions around the time Urick spent with the Noirs holed up in the caves waiting to attack the palace.

  “How pervasive was IUGA’s influence with this Dome Noir faction living in the hideout?” Ted asks.

  “A group of three men made all the decisions regarding the upcoming attack,” Urick says. “The leader was Luc Canard, a former lawyer from Dome Noir. The two others were IUGA automatons.”

  “So, would you say IUGA had great influence among the men?” Ted asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Were many other IUGA agents present among the ranks of these men?”

  Urick rubs his chin pensively. “I would say one in ten men were IUGA agents.”

  “And did the Dome Noir soldiers know they were automatons working for IUGA?”

  Urick snorts. “No. They have no concept of automaton in that country. They believed them to be human. They believed them to be mercenaries.”

  Through his questioning, Ted takes Urick forward to the day of the attack and asks him to describe the events that took place in the tower room. As Urick relates the events leading up to Ryder’s death, I feel a vise grip around my insides. Narowyn rests her arm gently across my shoulder, and I lean into her for comfort and support.

  Ted winds-up his questioning of Urick by focusing on the Transcenders’ efforts to locate Ralston and the events on the night of his rescue.

  “Lieutenant, is it your testimony that Mr. Ralston’s torso and head were discovered by your team outside IUGA’s property on a refuse pile that was scheduled to be picked up by the city and incinerated?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you Lieutenant Hunter. I have no further questions for this witness.”

  “Your witness, Mr. Cathcart,” Goodspeed says.

  “Mr. Hunter,” Cathcart says, rising and straightening his robes.

  Urick fixes him with amber eyes. “That’s Lieutenant.”

  Cathcart coughs into his hand. “Excuse me. Lieutenant Hunter, no one pushed Chief Blackthorn from that tower, correct?”

  “He was attempting to save his wife,” Urick says.

  “Just so. And no representative of IUGA precipitated his fall in any way, correct?”

  “His wife would not have been in peril, if it had not been for IUGA.”

  “But … Strike that.” Cathcart seems reluctant to press him on this issue. He scrolls through his notes and surprises me by saying, “I have nothing further for this witness.”

  When Cathcart takes his seat, Justice Akbar, a petite woman from Mumbai speaks for the first time.

  “Lieutenant Hunter, did you personally witness an IUGA automaton kill a human at any time?” Her voice is soft and slightly accented.

  “Yes. I did, Madame Justice,” Urick says somberly.

  “How many humans?”

  “I did not keep a casualty count, but more than a few were slaughtered by automatons.”

  “With firearms or swords or other weapons?”

  “Mostly with guns and swords, but some explosives were also utilized by the IUGA agents.”

  Justice Akbar shakes her head, scribbling quick notes on her tablet. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I believe that is all we have, Lieutenant Hunter,” Goodspeed says. “You are excused, and this court is adjourned until nine tomorrow morning.”

  “All rise,” the clerk says.

  The justices disappear through the curtained doorways, and the courtroom quickly and noisily empties out into the streets.

  Overnight, the media outlets run the story of the day’s court proceedings focusing on the startling allegations made by the Transcenders that IUGA used automatons in a failed coup and plot to assassinate me on my wedding day. Sound bites of Ralston’s testimony are played over and over again.

  “In a surprising development, the IGC Court allowed the testimony of an automaton to bolster the Transcenders’ case,” a polished, businesslike commentator says.

  The camera then cuts to a shot of me crying in the witness box. “The claimant, Jaden Beckett testified—”

  “Off. Vasa TV off,” I say, determined to get a good night’s sleep before round two begins tomorrow.

  FIFTY

  In the morning, Narowyn and I join the rest of our group at the foot of the courthouse steps. As we approach the front door, a horde of reporters rushes forward to meet us, firing questions and snapping photos. The spectator sections are already filled to capacity when we step inside the courtroom. Court deputies have begun turning away disappointed members of the public who hoped to hear first hand Director Canto’s response to the allegations. An air of excited anticipation hangs in the room.

  We assemble at our counsel table once again. Despite the fact that the atmosphere is more circus-like today, my insides are much calmer as I take my seat. My part is over, and I’m looking forward to the end of the day and putting the hearing behind me.

  My eyes scan the upstairs spectator gallery for Eleanor Beckett. I didn’t see her yesterday, but Narowyn said she was there. My heart contracts when I find her in the front row seated next to a gentleman who looks very much like my father. My eyes rest on him a brief moment and then move down the row where they meet the smoldering gaze of Ryder Blackthorn. He tips his head to me. I nod back and quickly turn away, my pulse galloping.

  The same distinguished looking clerk calls the court to order, and the justices enter through their gold-draperied doorways and retake their seats at the bench.

  Justice Goodspeed wears a pearl brooch today with earrings to match. She bids the courtroom a pleasant “Good morning,” and then gets straight down to business. “I plan to break for lunch at one o’clock today,” she says, “and reconvene at two for closing arguments. Mr. Cathcart, you may call your witness.”

  Cathcart rises, a whale in gray robes. Today he sports a lavender paisley ascot. “Thank you Madame Justice,” he says. “May it please the court, I call Director Marcus Anthony Canto to the stand.”

  Director Canto rises elegantly and strides to the witness box. His suit is expensive and finely cut. Even though his slick charm’s a bit douchy for my taste, he definitely adds a splashy star-quality to the proceedings. He takes his seat and swivels in the witness chair so that he faces the Justices.

  Justice Goodspeed delivers the same iris scanning camera admonishment to him. “Any deviation from the truth detected by these cameras will be noted in the transcript of your testimony and highlighted for the Justices,” she reminds him. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Madame Justice,” he says, his voice a vanilla smoothie.

  Cathcart has Director Canto state his full name and his position at IUGA.

  “Director, how long has the Inter-Universal Guidance Agency been in existence?”

  Canto clasps his hands across his trim midsection and beams, the epitome of a poised public figure. “Over eight hundred years.”

  “And on how many earths is IUGA chartered?”

  “Over a thousand at last count,” Canto says with a satisfied smile.

  Cathcart asks Canto to briefly review for the court some of IUGA’s major accomplishments over the years. Obviously prepared for the question, Canto is all charm and polish as he breezes through IUGA’s role as the anointed guardian of destiny. Most of his claims are astounding, such as IUGA’s role in orchestrating the events that ended World War II.

  The spectators seem mesmerized by his every word, and thoroughly impressed with IUGA’s momentous achievements. But I can’t help but wonder if any of his grand assertions can actually
be substantiated.

  Ted seems to be having the same reaction. He fidgets in his seat as if he fervently desires to object. But he keeps his peace. He’ll have his shot at the Director on cross.

  After Canto finishes his litany of IUGA’s divine acts, Cathcart says, “Thank you, Director, and how long have you been employed at IUGA?”

  “It will be thirty years this December.”

  “How long have you held the title of Director?”