“The public gallery is a bit full, but the court itself is quite relaxed. As I said, this isn’t a trial. It’s a fact-gathering exercise. The lawyers are here to challenge any fact they think might prejudice their clients’ interests. Remember, the main purpose of this enquiry is to determine what happened on Pangaea to trigger the sending of the Fleet force to stabilise it.”
TWO HOURS DRAGGED PAST BEFORE THE MASTER AT ARMS arrived. “Midshipman Heron is called,” she said to the Captain.
Captain Brandeis looked at Harry. “Ready, Midshipman?”
“I hope so, sir.” Harry made sure his screening device was in his pocket, and stood to follow the Master at Arms.
“You’ll be fine. Armand, go with him.”
“This is going to be interesting,” said their escort, a Master Warrant Officer. “The bench know who you are, but the court has not been told your name, so you’ll be asked to state it.”
She opened the door and announced, “Witness H, sir.”
Trying to control his nerves so that his knees wouldn’t feel weak, Harry walked into the court. The sharp intake of breath from one group of lawyers reached his ears. Stopping at the seat indicated, he faced the judge and bowed.
“Midshipman Henry Nelson-Heron, WTO Fleet?”
“I am he, my Lor — Lady.” He realised just in time that the presiding judge was a woman.
She smiled and glanced at her papers. “Please be seated, Mr Heron.” She watched him sit. “Let’s get started. You may address me and the members of the panel as sir. It has been a very long time since we rejoiced in titles such as Lord and Lady.”
A quiet chuckle rippled throughout the courtroom.
“Objection, sir!” One of the lawyers to Harry’s left was on his feet.
“To what do you object?” asked the judge. “Surely not to the use of sir as a form of address.”
Another chuckle ensued.
The attorney flustered about looking important. “I must insist on proper identification of this supposed witness the Fleet has stood before you today. Midshipman Heron was killed — we have proof in the form of news video of the assassination. This man could be an imposter produced by the Fleet to mislead you.”
“I take note of your objection. I’m sure Mr Heron will be quite happy to provide us with proof of his existence.” She held up a hand. “We have before us details of exactly what happened on the dock and how it was achieved.” Addressing Harry, she said, “Mr Heron, I believe you are able to access an AI and converse with it.”
“Yes, ma’am — sir.” Harry swallowed, wondering what was coming.
“Can you do it here?” She turned to the fuming barrister. “I believe, Mr Lockerly, that Mr Heron’s ability is unique. In fact, your clients acknowledged it was this ability that caused all the problems at a facility they had an interest in on Pangaea.”
“It was, but Fleet might have—”
“I’d say that was fairly unlikely, Mr Lockerly, especially since we already know that the Consortium’s people have been unable to explain the phenomenon or to successfully reproduce it in anyone other than Mr Heron and Mr O’Connor.”
A hush fell on the court. Then, with every indication of reluctance, the barrister said, “Very well, sir, I will concede that, but I must insist on having the witness DNA tested as proof he is Heron.”
“That will be arranged.” She waited while he sat. “Mr Heron, the court would like you to demonstrate your ability to access our AI and to have it display the record of the evidence we heard from the third witness last Monday.”
“The third witness, my lady — sir?” Harry withdrew the blocking device from his pocket and disabled it. Instantly, a rush of data filled his head as the AI linked to him. “Good day, AI. I am asked that you display the testimony of the third witness the court heard on Monday last.”
“Good day, Harry.” The soft feminine voice could be heard in his ears only. “Shall I display it holographically with sound?”
Harry nodded. “If you please.”
Watching Harry, the bench and the legal representatives saw the nod, and were startled when the hologram of Captain Wardman appeared between them, and his voice filled the courtroom.
“The facility on the island of New Caledonia looked as if it had been attacked by a large assault force, sir. However, all the damage and casualty patterns indicated the attack came from someone on the inside and not from an external assault. The survivors and prisoners we took were all in a seriously psychotic state, and suffering from starvation and dehydration. Our medics discovered that all the food replicators and the water supply from the filtration and recycling system were contaminated with a mix of psychotropic substances.”
“Thank you, Mr Heron, you may stop it, please.”
“Aye, aye, my lady.” Harry flushed when he realised he had once again forgotten to address the judge as sir. He hated sounding old-fashioned and out of place, but it was engrained in him from years of early training. Focussing again, Harry told the AI, “Thank you. Please end the display.”
As the hologram vanished, a murmur ran through the court. The judge fixed the lawyer with her gaze. “Do you know of anyone else who can do that, Mr Lockerly?”
Reluctantly, the lawyer conceded the point. “I must still insist on confirming his DNA, sir.”
“Mr Heron?”
“If you wish, sir.” Harry remained seated while a court officer held the device to his cheek.
“The DNA is confirmed, sir. There is no doubt the person before us is Henry Nelson Heron, born Downpatrick, 20th May, 1789, registered a citizen of the State of Ulster in the North European Confederation.”
“Thank you. Any further objections, Mr Lockerly? No? Then we will proceed. For the records, Clerk, please read the witness’s biography to the court.”
Rising, the Clerk activated her display and read aloud a brief resumé of Harry’s career from his joining HMS Bellerophon in Chatham in 1801 to his subsequent transfer to the seventy-four gun HMS Spartan and the voyage to New South Wales, the South Sea and the Indian continent. When she reached the final part of the record, she summed it up by saying, “HMS Spartan, HMS Rajasthan and HMS Swallow encountered two large French frigates and engaged them. During that engagement, Midshipman Heron, Boy Seaman O’Connor and Powder Monkey Dan—,” she paused as a titter of laughter ran through the gallery, “and Ship’s Boy Danny Gunn were caught in a time rift caused by the malfunction of the NEGSHIO.”
The judge’s expression was one of weary impatience. “Another one of those incomprehensible military acronyms. Clarify it for the record, please.”
“Near Earth Gate Southern Hemisphere Indian Ocean, sir.”
“Thank you. Is that a true record of your career, Mr Heron? It seems to have taken you to some very interesting places.” She nodded at Harry’s affirmation. “Now, Midshipman Heron, would you tell the court what you can recall of your arrival aboard the NECS Vanguard in 2204?”
Briefly, Harry told the court of how they’d found themselves in the hangar on the Vanguard, dealt with Ferghal’s injuries, and searched for a way to return to the Spartan.
“Where you able to hear the AI on the ship?” The question came from one of the other members of the bench.
“No, sir.” Harry grinned at the memory. “And when we did encounter people, we could not understand their manner of speaking. We now know they were speaking the modern form of English, but I thought they were speaking French with a very poor accent, as did Midshipman O’Connor. That explains his volatile response. It was quite well known aboard the Spartan what he thought of the Frenchies, as he called them, sir.”
Another ripple of laughter broke the testimony, and Harry flushed, not having intended to be humorous.
“Earlier witnesses tell us you attacked a fully armed squad with fire extinguishers. Why did you do that?”
“We’d no notion of who they were, my lady, sirs, and I determined I would not allow
them to harm Ferghal or Danny while I had breath to defend them. They were my men, and I was charged with their safety.” The simplicity of this statement drew a murmur from the public gallery.
“Commendable, young man. Very commendable.” The comment came from a senior admiral seated to the right of the judges. “Now, Mr Heron, we need to hear what you experienced when first fitted with the AI implant.”
Harry frowned. It was difficult to remember that initially he’d only been able to ask for and receive information, and then only if he mentally framed his request in a specific manner. He explained this, adding that it had been an added pleasure to discover he could ask the AI to play his favourite music in a manner that he alone could hear it.
The questions continued, leading up to the moment he and his companions had been captured and taken to the secret research facility on the island of New Caledonia on the planet Pangaea. Now he was entering territory he did not like to think about, much less discuss in public.
“At what point in the experiments did you become aware of a change to your link to the AI? Was it immediately after you received the gene splice?”
“No, sir. At first I could only hear it when I asked it a question and followed the routine for activating the link. After the gene splice, I could hear everything in the network. I became aware of it while they experimented on me, and I could do nothing to control my own body, something I found very hard to accept. I have no way of knowing how long it took to reach the point at which I could access the AI network as I did to alter it, sir.”
He paused, remembering the events with a pained expression. “While I was under the control of their drugs, the passage of time seemed endless. It was not until they stopped the drugs to allow me to recover that I discovered what I could do with my link to their system, and that’s when I realised I was part of it.”
“And what exactly did those experiments involve, Mr Heron?” asked a Captain quietly.
The court went very still as Harry stared at the desk in front of him. Then he looked up and addressed the Admiral. “Ma’am, I find myself still unable to speak of this, but if you will permit me to access the AI, I can, with its help, show the court what I saw.” He hung his head. “Some of it fills me with shame.”
“Very well.” The judge glanced at her companions then at the legal representatives. “You may proceed, Mr Heron.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Harry, his face white with anxiety and shame. Focussing on the flow of data from the AI, he said, “Please display for the court my recall of these events.”
There was a brief pause while Harry gathered his thoughts and recalled what he’d experienced. A gasp went up from the court as the holographic scene of his, Ferghal, and Danny’s capture appeared in the space between the legal representatives.
It was followed by a confused series of glimpses of the interiors of vehicles, then of a tunnel and finally of a submarine vessel. Next came a glimpse of a room lit by overhead lights behind secure glass in a ceiling. Suddenly the face of a man snarling at the audience appeared. Several people winced as a hypodermic device was briefly visible, then the hologram vanished before displaying a laboratory. The audience watched in horror as Harry relived the torment of the experiments, seeing what he had seen, but spared the sound and the feeling. Finally they witnessed his struggle against the hallucinations and his escape when he saw Danny in the duct above him followed by Ferghal and the others releasing him.
After that, the hologram dissolved and the lights returned. Harry sat with his head in his hands, and the courtroom remained totally silent as if no one dared to breathe.
The whole had been seen from the perspective of the victim — Harry — a circumstance that left the watchers in little doubt as to the behaviour of the perpetrators. Some of the scenes had been sufficiently graphic to make many of those watching feel ill.
The judge broke the silence. “Mr Heron, that is one of the most distressing things I have ever seen — and I can quite see why you find it painful to talk about it. But what you have shown us explains a great deal, and it will be extremely valuable in the prosecution of those involved. I am sure you will be required to assist the prosecutors when they assemble the evidence they need, and I know that will cause you to relive the pain of this event yet again, but your help will be exceedingly valuable.” She paused. “However, doing so may require you to return to the Pangaea site.”
Her eyes rested on the legal team representing BarCor, all of whom were staring at their hands or the desk, refusing to meet the gaze of the court.
To Harry, she said, “Be assured that the Fleet will provide you with every support you need.” She glanced at her companions on the bench. “For the record, Mr Heron, would you tell the court what you did when you discovered that you could give instructions to the AI?”
Harry raised his head, his face white. In a quiet voice he replied, “I directed it to place the drugs they had been giving me into the food replication and supply units for their personnel. Then I disabled the locks on the cells in which we were held, and my companions found me and released me from my bindings.”
A murmur ran through the court, and for a moment it looked as if the BarCor team would demand a further question, but refrained.
“Thank you. During your escape, I believe you encountered the central core of the AI. You removed certain memory components from it.”
“Correct, my lady . . . uh, ma’am . . . I mean, sir. We took the components that held the records of what they were doing to their victims there.” He paused, struggling to suppress the desire to run away from this place and hide the shame he felt in allowing the court to see what he had experienced at the hands of the researchers. “I did not realise the importance of something that occurred while we were removing the data files. Another AI connected to Ferghal and me, and downloaded several files, then attempted to remove them from our memory. Those files contain a record of all the agents, individuals, bureaucrats, politicians and companies that funded, work for, or support the Consortium —and something else. It had to do with currency transactions and trade on the World Exchanges. The amounts involved were very great indeed.”
This time the gasp of surprise quickly turned into an uproar as the legal teams demanded immediate access or withdrawal of this information.
Hammering the gavel, the presiding judge demanded silence. With order restored, she asked, “Do you still have that information in your head?”
“I do, my lady.”
Lockerly was on his feet. “That must be inadmissible! No human memory of that nature can be allowed, sir. There’s no precedent for it, and he could be making it up for all we know. He’s a teen boy! Are we really going to trust his word? This is absurd!”
“Sit down, Counsel.” The judge looked at Harry, noting the angry flush to his cheeks. “Are you able to upload those files to the AI here? Perhaps you can also tell us whether the source of this information might still have it.”
Composing himself with difficulty, Harry let the AI retrieve his memory of the files. “It is done, my lady. As to the source, I believe it to have been a second AI unit located within the research facility, a more powerful one which was connected to other bases on the planet, I think.”
Screens lit up with the retrieved data. “The files are unaltered, sir.” The soft feminine voice of the AI startled several people. “Midshipman Heron’s memory circuit is unusual but reliable.”
“We will take a short recess while we consider this new information,” announced the judge. She struck her gavel and stood, the court scrambling to stand with her.
The Master at Arms appeared at Harry’s elbow. Steering him toward the nearest exit, she said, “This way, quickly, before the vultures close in. You look as if you could use some refreshment and a break. The coffee is actually good today, and we have some delicious sandwiches and cakes. Let’s get you out of here.”
When the court reconvened, there was a noticeable ga
p at the legal representatives’ desks. Mr Lockerley and his assistants had gone.
“For the record of this enquiry,” the presiding judge announced, “the investigation team on Pangaea confirm that there are two AIs in the Johnstone research facility. The second is in a command post beneath the facility.” She paused. “Unfortunately, it appears that someone has inserted a very unusual block command into it that the researchers have been unable to overcome. To all instructions it responds by playing a very loud and persistent rendition of a marching tune called ‘Hearts of Oak’.” Smiling, she watched Harry as his cheeks flushed. “Your handiwork, Mr Heron?”
As the next order of business, Harry was instructed to download for the court the lists of names and organisations he carried in his head. When these were visible on a large holographic screen, they created an immediate stir.
“These will have to be verified against the originals as soon as they can be retrieved,” declared a member of the bench. “Agreed,” said the presiding judge. “However, I begin to understand why certain parties might wish to keep these unseen.” She straightened. “Thank you, Mr Heron. Now, back to your recollection of the situation on New Caledonia, please. I understand you found and released the Lacertian who goes by the title Sersan — their Chief of Chiefs.”
The judge and the members of the bench prised from him the details of the actions taken to escape the Johnstone facility, and Harry’s observations of the same. Finally, the judge asked, “Mr Heron, before we release you from what has obviously been a painful experience, we would appreciate it if you could tell us the reason your officer, Sub Lieutenant Trelawney, decided to escape from New Caledonia by boat. As everyone present is probably aware, he was killed in a recent engagement and cannot give us this information himself.”
This news caught Harry by surprise. “I had not heard of the Sub Lieutenant’s passing, ma’am—a great loss to the Fleet. He was a good man and an excellent leader. Concerning the reasoning behind our escape attempt, I believe it was because we were not certain that the Consortium’s forces on the island had been completely neutralised, and we knew not whether our own forces could find us. I believe that Mr Trelawney felt that we should make every effort to reach Pangaea City. Since there were no aerial craft and no powered sea skimmers available, he examined some of the craft in the harbour to determine which was the most seaworthy. During our escape, the communications transmitters at their facility were damaged or destroyed. We could not find any working communications system, and thus we could not contact our own people.”
Harry Heron: No Quarter Page 14