Piece of Nicias: A Sci-Fi Novel

by Francis J Coyle

  Hammond was determined not to let Hart escape the consequences of his actions this time.

  The Peace Officers lined up parallel to the watchful crowd. Hammond was proud of his officers. Their shining black uniforms glistened in the rain. Their reflective helmets gleamed in the street lamps.

  Hammond keyed the loudspeaker unit he was holding.

  “Please disperse immediately.” Hammond said into the loudspeaker. The sound of his voice echoed across the parliament square as the speakers in the street lamps caught his voice and retransmitted it.

  “Batons at the ready.” Hammond said.

  The Peace Officers answered ‘Yes sir’ in one voice. They slapped the batons into their palms in a continuous beat. The pounding of the batons contrasted with the rumbling of the crowd.

  “Squad one move now.” Hammond said into his microphone. He keyed his helmet visor to enhance the sights. A Peace Officer jumped on the podium and grabbed Tyler Hart by his jacket. A baton was placed against Hart’s throat as the Peace Officer efficiently dragged him from the podium and into the hands of a waiting cohort of Peace Officers.

  At the same time Hammond felt rather than heard the surge of people reacting to the arrest of the main speaker.

  “Get ready now.” Hammond said.

  He could see that people were trying to stop the squad holding Tyler Hart. Their escape was slowed by a mass of people pushing to intercept the squad.

  “I want squad two and three to follow me and spearhead an assault into the crowd to link up with squad one.” Hammond said. “Squads four and five are to contain the crowd.”

  Hammond strode forward and joined twenty of his officers. He pushed through the crowd in front of him but didn’t make much headway until two of his Peace Officers flanked him and used their bulk to throw people back. A young man dressed in a black hoodie tried to punch Hammond but one of the Peace Officers next to him grabbed the young man, lifted him bodily and threw him forcible into the crowd, knocking a number of the protestors off their feet.

  “Carefully now.” Hammond said. The new exoskeletons the Peace Officers used enhanced their strength but sometimes the Peace Officers forgot how easy it was to damage a civilian with the strength the units bestowed.

  There was a surge of people towards them. Hammond stood fast waiting for the push to end before moving forward. He grabbed at the jacket of one of the Peace Officers in first squad and pulled him close.

  “First squad to reform with second and third squad.” Hammond said. “Keep the prisoner in the centre of the group.”

  “Yes sir.” The Peace Officer paused for a moment listening to a report. “There are several men at the back of the demonstration digging up paving stones. They are about to start throwing them.”

  “I want fourth squad and ...” Hammond said before he was interrupted.

  “Duck”

  “Get down”

  Someone threw himself bodily on top of Hammond dragging him to the ground. Several bricks glanced off his armour. Hammond struggled to his feet shrugging off help from a Peace Officer. He heard a crash of glass as bricks were thrown at the parliament building.

  “Fourth squad to snatch. I want them to target anyone throwing bricks. First and third squads to join fifth squad to stand their ground and contain the demonstration. Prisoner to the rear. Second squad, with me.”

  Hammond pushed forward. If he could get his squad across the square to fourth squad’s position, they would be in a position to target the brick throwers from two different directions.

  Another Peace Officer joined him at the front of the wedge and together they pushed across the square.

  “Aieee.”

  The scream was cut short. A babble of voices was heard on the comms until Hammond ordered for quiet.

  “Morris has been shot by a laser pistol.” A voice said.

  “The use of live weapons is authorised.” Hammond said.

  He put away his baton and drew a large pistol. Beside him he could see a Peace Officer withdrawing a large shotgun from a grab bag.

  Hammond keyed the loudspeaker again.

  “This is your last chance to disperse. Please leave the square immediately.”

  For a moment there was a lull. Then the surge began again. Someone grabbed Hammond from the side. He wrenched his arm free and levelled his pistol towards the figure. He pulled the trigger.

  There was a large report and Hammond felt a satisfying recoil from the pistol. The figure was flung backwards and was swallowed by the crowd. For a moment the crowd stood still, then it broke free stampeding away from the shot. There were cries of pain as a number of people were crushed by the crowd.

  Hammond stood alone next to a broken, bleeding body in the middle of the square.

  Chapter Two

  The morning light had yet to penetrate the parliament square. There were already several squads of Peace Officers surrounding the square and searching through the debris for evidence.

  “Lea, did you hear what happened last night?” Stan asked.

  The Peace Officer had removed his helmet so he could have a private conversation with his friend. The voice recordings of all conversations, including private ones, where always reviewed each evening. The only way to have an unrecorded conversation was to remove the helmet.

  Lea removed her helmet.

  “I heard that Lieutenant Hammond lost his mind and started to shoot into the crowd before he was restrained.” Lea said.

  “Four trauma ambulances landed in the square after the riot.” Stan said. “They can hold four dead people in each. It must have been a massacre. Sixteen people dead.”

  “They could have been here for injuries.” Lea said.

  “They don’t send trauma ambulances to land in the middle of a riot for nothing.” Stan said. He pointed at a splash of red near the podium. “That wasn’t caused by cuts and bruises.”

  Lea sighed as she looked around. The square was strewn by a large number of paving stones which had been ripped from the ground. A small statue of a guardian angel stood forlorn in the centre.

  “Perhaps some people were caught in the crowd, crushed when the Lieutenant started to shoot.” Lea said. “Do we know why he fired into the crowd?”

  “I’ve always thought the Lieutenant was a bit unstable.” Stan said. “But not mass murderer unstable if you know what I mean.”

  “He’s only just been arrested and you want him executed?” Lea said.

  A shout from the other side of the square drew their attention for a moment. Something had been discovered. They followed the crowd over to the site.

  “Well you know what I mean.” Stan said. “There were almost a thousand demonstrators in the square last night. He could have killed them all and his men too.”

  “Thank God he only carried two extra clips for his pistol.” Lea said. “If he carried another hundred or so clips, he could have killed everyone.”

  “Ha ha, very funny Lea.”

  Their conversation was cut short as they reached the rest of the group. They both had to don their helmets to hear the discovery. A laser pistol had been found hidden under some plant pots at the edge of the square.

  Perhaps the Lieutenant was innocent.

  *

  “Order in court.”

  Roger Stone pushed himself to his feet as the judge entered. It was almost eight o’clock in the morning and he was feeling tired. The Peace Officers had questioned him endlessly about the leaflets found in his sister’s house. Stone had yet to say anything other than confirm his name.

  The judge stepped up to a podium where he started to read some documents relating to the case. He made a small sign to the bailiff but otherwise ignored his audience.

  “Please sit.”

  Stone sat. His court appointed advocate continued to stand next to him in the court.

  “If it pleases the court, I would like to reaffirm my client’s right to an advocate.” The advocate said. “I have yet had the opportunity to speak to my
client in private.”

  The judge looked up from his notes.

  “Have you had the opportunity to study your client’s response to the questions from the Peace Officers?” The judge asked. At the advocate’s nod the judge continued. “Then the objection is overruled. Who is presenting the evidence for the prosecution?”

  A young man next to the bailiff raised his hand.

  “I am the prosecutor in this case your honour.” He said. “I will be showing that the defendant, Captain Roger Stone, along with two other defendants, David Rawlins and John Terrence, conspired to distribute contraband materials. Further, John Terrence had a small hand weapon which is illegal to own under section seventeen paragraph three of the Armenty laws. Lastly the three men are additionally charged with resisting arrest and attempting to injure the Peace Officers in the line of duty.”

  The prosecutor pressed a button on his wrist computer and a small hologram of a hand weapon appeared. He continued to stand. There was a few moments of silence as the judge scribbled on a pad.

  “Does the defence have anything to say in response to these charges?” The judge asked.

  The advocate cleared his throat.

  “Your honour, the defendant has neither admitted nor denied any of these charges.” The advocate said. “The transcripts from the Peace Officers show that he has only affirmed his name during the questioning, otherwise he has kept silent. Can I point out however that the prosecution is not able to prove that the revolver belonging to John Terrence has ever been in the possession of my client. Additionally on examining the video footage from the scene last night, this only showed John Terrence resisting arrest. My client was most co-operative.”

  “Does the Prosecution wish to comment on this?” The judge asked.

  The prosecutor shuffled the papers in front of him furiously for a moment.

  “The prosecution is willing to concede that we have insufficient evidence to prove that Captain Roger Stone has ever had in his possession the aforementioned revolver. We are also willing to concede that Captain Stone did not resist arrest in the videos provided by the Peace Officers. However with regard to the leaflets, the Peace Officers have recovered fingerprints confirming that Captain Stone and his accomplices David Rawlins and John Terrance all handled contraband leaflets.”

  “Then I will so note that the two latter charges are stricken from the records.” The judge paused for a moment and made a hand written note for himself. “On the primary charge of handling contraband material, does the defence have a rebuttal?”

  The advocate paused, looking at Captain Stone. Stone stared directly ahead, ignoring the court.

  “May it please the court, we do not have a rebuttal.” The advocate said. “I would like to raise the fact that this is Captain Stone’s first offence, he is an outstanding member of the community and has already lost his job through his actions.”

  At the last, Roger Stone reacted. He closed his eyes for a long moment before looking up at the judge. The judge ignored him.

  “Captain Roger Stone, you are hereby sentenced for the crime of handling contraband materials to community service for a period of no less than five years. If a suitable community service is not found within twenty one days, you will be subject to exile from this planet. Do you have any comments?”

  The judge paused for the briefest of moments then swept from the room.

  *

  James Rivan sat on the floor of the jail cell, his back against the wall. The cell was over-crowded and stank from human fear and misery. The single bench was occupied. Rivan had watched several failed challenges to the seat. The current occupant, a small man dressed in an engineers uniform, had won the latest challenge by wrestling the previous occupant to the floor and trapping him in a choke hold. There had not been any challenges since.

  Rivan shivered. The sentencing had been swift. Only the fact that this was the first provable offence, stopped his exile from the planet. He was lucky that Ellis, his former trusted friend, had not been allowed to give evidence. Five years of community service or exile. Rivan did not have a valued skill, unless cat burglary came back into fashion. To top it all, the Peace Officers had not returned his shoes.

  Rivan wriggled his bare feet.

  “Tyler Hart.”

  Rivan looked up. A man had sat beside him and was holding out a chubby hand.

  “That’s my name. Tyler Hart, and you are?”

  Rivan grunted his name.

  “What are you in for?”

  Rivan was tempted to tell him to mind his own business but he had nothing to gain by creating another enemy.

  “Breaking and entry and attempted theft. Yourself?”

  “I am accused of inciting a riot.” Tyler said. “I am innocent obviously however the powers-that-be have decided to use me as an example against other demonstrators. The riot was not my fault as I respectfully pointed out to the court.”

  “What happened then?” Rivan asked, interested in spite of himself.

  “The judge charged me with contempt of court and remanded me to custody. I would have been exiled except they would have had to charge the Lieutenant of the Peace Officers with first degree murder. They’re obviously not going to do that.”

  “You’re sentenced to community service as well?” Rivan asked.

  “Or exile.” Tyler said. “All I asked for was basic human rights. Food to live and respect from the powers that be. Bread and roses. Not much to ask for. Growing up I was always told that the advance of robots would save humanity by ridding us of the need to work. Growing up I got excited by the future. Then the future happened and look at us now, unemployed and starving.”

  Rivan crooked an eyebrow at the rotund man sitting next to him.

  Tyler was saved from a reply by a disturbance at the cell door. The Peace Officers thrust a man into the cell before slamming the cell door closed. He was quite tall with silver in his hair. He looked around for a moment before joining the engineer on the coveted bench. He looked familiar to Rivan for some reason.

  “You know who that is don’t you?” Tyler said. At Rivan’s blank expression he made an exasperated sound. “Doesn’t anyone read the screamsheets these days? That’s Captain Stone.”

  “Roger Stone?” Rivan said. “The Captain who allowed twenty pirates to board his space liner last month before opening them to the vacuum of space?”

  “That’s the one.” Tyler said. “It seems that the law has finally caught up with him at last. I wonder what he was charged with.”

  “Do you think he’ll accept community service or exile.” Rivan said. “He’s a starship captain so it’s not like he spends much time on the planet anyway.”

  “Will they allow him to accept community service?” Tyler said. “I mean, would you want to work with him?”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers.” Rivan said. “He’ll probably be given his old job back, commanding a cruise liner in space as community service. That would be preferable to exile.”

  *

  “Lieutenant Nicholas Hammond.”

  The voice echoed along the hallway. Hammond stood up, straightening his dress uniform. He had been waiting for over an hour while the court martial deliberated. Staring at a cream coloured wall and flanked by two heavily armed Peace Officers while the senior officers, most of whom had never served on the front line against the unruly mob, discussed his fate.

  It was an uncomfortable hour of waiting.

  Hammond marched to entrance of the chamber. The two Peace Officers peeled off and stood to attention guarding the doorway. He nodded to them approvingly before opening the door.

  He stopped at the centre of the chamber. In front of him were five judges. This was a military court so he was not allowed an advocate. The five judges were present to ensure that favouritism did not play a part in the decision of the court. They sat behind a long bench. All five were wearing dress uniforms, perfectly creased and heavy with medals.

  “Do you have anything to say before
we pass judgement?”

  The central judge was simply known as ‘Chief’. He was the only one who had served on the front line. There was a rumour that he had lost the hair on his head in the line of duty when he was attacked during a riot. A chemical adhesive was poured over his head which damaged the hair follicles. He didn’t even have eyebrows. But that was thirty years ago. Since then, he commanded a desk.

  “No sir.”

  Hammond stared straight ahead, refusing to meet any of the judges’ eyes. They were not there at the riot, he wanted to shout. They had not been present, not felt the anger of the mob, not felt the icicle of fear slither down their spine as the savage horde tried to swarm the Peace Officers. Seventeen Peace Officers had been killed over the last two months and they dared judge him for self defence. He kept silent. He would not lose control in front of them.