Complete Fiction (Jerry eBooks)

by J. Francis McComas

  “Well . . . that makes very good sense to me. You may step down, Mr. Cardozo, and thank you.”

  Hrdlicka propped his elbows on his desk and rested his chin in his cupped hands. He stared somberly at the crowded room.

  “The court’s going to follow Mr. Cardozo’s program,” he rumbled. “But before I make it official, I’d like to say one or two things to all of you, as people of this planet we call the New World. I was on the committee that drew up our civil and criminal codes. I agreed to all the ideas that people like Mr. Cardozo wanted to incorporate into the laws. Voted for them. But I wasn’t sure they’d work. I’m an old man and I guess my years have made me cynical. I thought if the pressure was on us, if ever, we’d all take the easy way out. Well, we haven’t. I’m glad. Speaks damn well for our future.”

  He raised his head and dropped his hands flat on the desk.

  “If it’s agreeable to all concerned, I’ll sentence the convicted defendant. Any objections, Miss Giovannetti?”

  “Your Honor—I—I’m awfully proud . . . I think this court has done a great thing today . . .”

  “Think so, too. D’ye agree, Mr. Blair? Oh . . . I see you’ve got something to say. Well, go ahead.”

  Hugo Blair had darted to his feet and stepped a pace away from his chair, so the spectators’ view of him would not be blocked by his table.

  “Trouble, Brandt,” whispered Malory.

  “I don’t think so. Hrdlicka will handle him.”

  “Your Honor,” rasped Blair, “I am an officer of this court.”

  “So?”

  “That means, sir, that I am obliged to speak out when this court fails to serve the interests of the people!”

  “Yes, yes. Come to the point!”

  Blair turned a little to one side so that, while seeming to face the bench, as was proper, he could still glance out at the spectators. He clasped his hands behind his back and thrust out his big head.

  “Mr. Cardozo has beguiled a charitable people into decreeing that there shall be no capital punishment,” he cried. “But I must ask you, all of you, what will you have in its stead?” He pointed at the grinning Tasker. “There sits our declared enemy. You have heard him pronounced a drug addict, a habitual criminal, He has already killed one of us. How many more of us will he slaughter whenever he gets bored with our coddling of him?”

  “Blair!” roared Hrdlicka. He banged his gavel. “Sit down!” He raised his bulk half out of his chair. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but we’ll have no ranting by counsel in this court!”

  “Ranting, sir? Is.it ranting to ask that we stop and observe where the impractical schemes of weak men may lead us?”

  “You’re in contempt of this court, Counselor. That doesn’t mean much—to me. But you’re in contempt of the laws of your country and I won’t stand for that!”

  “Is it contempt to challenge a law that does not protect?”

  “Ah, Judge, Your Honor . . .” the foreman of the jury, a sandyhaired, nervous man, raised a thin arm. “I think we have a right to ask Mr. Blair to tell us what he means.”

  “That’s torn it,” breathed Malory.

  “If that blasted Tasker only realized what was happening to him,” Cardozo groaned.

  “Very well,” growled Hrdlicka. “I’ll let you answer the jury, Counselor.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Blair’s bow was generally in the jury’s direction. “I’ll be brief. Mr. Cardozo and Dr. Malory have given us some pretty generalities. Oh, they were sincere. I’m sure of that. But their words were generalities. I, on the other hand, am concerned solely with one, individual matter. The matter of David Tasker—murderer!”

  “Mr. Hrdlicka!” Cardozo cried. “I object to that . . .”

  “I will correct myself,” Blair said smoothly. “Let me say that you are not concerned solely with the problem of David Tasker. But I am. For, you see, I wish to live in peace. And safety.”

  Blair paused, smiled thinly.

  “Quiet, boy,” murmured the doctor. “Don’t argue with him.”

  “So I will confine myself to the problem of David Tasker,” Blair went on. “Now, Mr. Cardozo has said that we should keep him in a sort of perpetual custody. A kindly procedure, but isn’t it a bit impractical?” He was speaking directly to the audience now. “I trust that Dr. Malory will agree that he can’t spend all his time with one patient. And you’ll agree that you, yourself, can’t personally guard one lone prisoner day and night, won’t you, Mr. Cardozo? After all, we each of us have many different jobs that must be done if this community is to survive. Now, we don’t have a prison as yet. Shall we stop all other building—hospital, school, sanitation system—to erect a jail for one worthless man?”

  “Are you through?” Hrdlicka asked.

  “Just one or two queries more. We have a very small policing force, because most of us are orderly men. So, if we follow the advice of our friends here, we, all of us, men, women—even the few children left to us—must always be on our guard to see that this enemy of ours doesn’t break free from our weak restraint and, in his mad lust for his filthy drug, kill any of us in his way!”

  Brandt Cardozo heard a confused muttering behind him. He turned. The spectators moved restlessly, huddling together, whispering. Some were staring at Tasker and their faces weren’t pleasant to see. Cardozo arose.

  “Your Honor,” he said quietly, “I seem to be the principal target of Mr. Blair’s wrath. May I remind him that I am acting according to law—the law he himself is sworn to uphold.”

  “Not necessarily. Mr. Blair doesn’t have much regard for law. A matter I’ll take up with the Council. Now, Blair, you’ve done a neat job of stirring us up, so sit down and be quiet.”

  The muttering among the spectators grew louder.

  “There’ll be order in this court!” roared Hrdlicka.

  He waited.

  The muttering did not subside.

  The jury foreman coughed.

  “Seems to us, the jury, that is,” he was embarrassed but stubborn, “there’s a lot in what he says. We ain’t blaming Mr. Cardozo any—but, well, I guess we don’t see how that—the prisoner can be kept locked up so that the rest of us are safe.”

  “That’s our problem!” snapped Cardozo. “We’ve got to face it! And I, for one, am ready to face it! Your Honor, I wish to go on public record that I assume full responsibility for Tasker’s safe custody.”

  “Very commendable,” sneered Blair. “And after Tasker’s next killing, you will send us your regrets, Mr. Cardozo?”

  Someone in the back of the room stumbled to his feet and cried, “Now, look . . .”

  “Silence!” roared Hrdlicka.

  For the moment they all obeyed him.

  “Now,” said the old man, “this is your court and I’m your judge. We’re here to carry out your laws. Your laws, remember! So let’s get on with it. And no more nonsense!”

  “Is it nonsense to want to protect ourselves?” cried Blair.

  No muttering now, but a loud chorus of agreement.

  “Look, Judge,” said the foreman of the jury. The hubbub died down. “I don’t know how to say it legal, but the jury thinks that, well, Tasker ought to be kicked out. And . . .” he fumbled and the juror next to him plucked his sleeve. They whispered together. “Yeah. And we want it on record that we think so.” He sat down.

  “But that won’t do,” purred Hugo Blair. “Really it won’t. Suppose we do exile this fellow. Then what? Out in the hills he lurks—mad, hungry—more desperate than ever. We, in our valley, must patrol our homes both day and night. Yet, in the darkness, our few sentries will be easy enough to evade. So, we bar our doors and windows. Children are kept close to home. We huddle together. We are afraid . . . afraid of one man.”

  And someone in the back of the room yelled, “So kill the son of a bitch!”

  Blair smiled.

  Hrdlicka rose to his feet and stood, a massive, brooding figure.

  “Mr. Blair,” h
e rumbled, “I have mentioned before I am going to report your conduct to the Council. That’s all I have to say to you.” He looked contemptuously at the jury. “Long ago we decided that we were going to settle down on this planet and live ordered lives. Which means you can’t cook up laws on the spur of the moment. You already have laws on your statute books. Those laws provide penalties for this prisoner and I am going to impose them now! David Tasker, stand up!”

  Which was a mistake, Brandt Cardozo realized that immediately. The shambling figure of Tasker gave them a focus, a personification for their fear.

  Some of them yelled. Hrdlicka beat on his desk with his gavel, but it was no use. Finally, somebody—probably the man who had first cried “Kill!”—started down the aisle. As Brandt Cardozo moved out to block the man, he caught a glimpse of Hugo Blair. Blair was staring at the running man and, to Cardozo’s surprise, the little man was no longer smiling.

  As the fellow burst among them, Cardozo reached out for him, but the other brushed on by. “Come on!” the man screamed at Blair, “let’s get him now.”

  Blair’s eyes bulged under his shaggy brows and he faltered a step backward.

  “Guard!” bellowed Hrdlicka. “Arrest that man!”

  Lisa Giovannetti stumbled out of her chair. The man tried to avoid her, bumped into her, and knocked her to the floor. The man stopped and looked down at her.

  Cardozo saw that Blair was trembling.

  “Is this what you wanted, Mr. Blair?” he asked softly.

  Lisa Giovannetti tried—not very hard—to get up.

  Brandt Cardozo moved swiftly over to the man, grabbed his arm, and swung him around. “Get out of here,” Cardozo said clearly but not loudly, “or I’ll knock you down.”

  The other looked at Cardozo, then down at Lisa Giovannetti. He jerked his arm free and stumbled up the aisle. People moved out of his way. Cardozo helped Lisa Giovannetti to her feet.

  “Nice going,” he whispered, then in normal tones he asked, “Are you hurt?”

  “No . . . just awfully scared.”

  Brandt Cardozo looked up at Hrdlicka. The old man stood, shoulders sagging. He looked very tired.

  “Your Honor,” Cardozo said, “we all seem to have forgotten ourselves. I respectfully suggest you adjourn this court until we . . .”

  “Until we stop acting like silly, hysterical children?” Hrdlicka rasped. “I agree. I’m ashamed. Deeply ashamed. I—never mind, court’s adjourned.”

  There was shuffling of feet, a few started out, but most of them didn’t move. They stood, uneasy, watching Hugo Blair.

  The little man had recovered his poise.

  “I agree with Your Honor that violence will not solve the questions raised by this trial,” he said. “But I am sure that an immediate, public session of the Council will.”

  He stalked up the aisle and the people followed him, clustering close, jabbering, nodding their heads. Hrdlicka watched them as the room slowly cleared.

  “All right,” he said at last. “Guard, take the prisoner back to his cell. By the side door.”

  Pierre Malory sighed. Hrdlicka stepped ponderously off his crude platform and joined the little group.

  “Well, lads,” he smiled without mirth at Cardozo and Malory, “there goes your fancy, progressive penal code. No capital punishment, eh?” He gestured toward Lisa Giovannetti. “One of you had better take this girl home.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m quite all right. Really. I wasn’t a bit hurt, you know.”

  “But you lay there—well, I’ll be damned!” He beamed at her.

  “She’s a smart girl,” grinned Cardozo. “Her little act stopped the lynching, Anthony.”

  “What’s going to happen now?” asked the girl.

  “Oh,” said Hrdlicka, “that little bastard Blair will get what he wants. He’ll make his point in Council just like he did today. Better get ready for a full-dress execution, Brandt, my boy.”

  “What has he got against you, Brandt?” asked Lisa Giovannetti. “He—he was positively venomous toward you.”

  “It’s not me he hates,” said Brandt Cardozo. “It’s what I stand for.”

  “But they won’t listen to him—they won’t kill Tasker!”

  “Sure they will,” Cardozo nodded. “History bears him out. You see, primitive man couldn’t run the risk of keeping his criminals alive—”

  “But we’re not primitive!”

  “We’ve reverted. Under the excuse of necessity, of course. We just haven’t got the facilities, you see. Perhaps later, when everything is lovely a few years from now. Ha! We’ll never take the first step. There’ll always be a Blair around to point out the difficulties . . . and the dangers.”

  They started for the door, walking slowly. Hrdlicka put a hand on Cardozo’s shoulder.

  “If you live as long as I have, Brandt, you’ll just about lose all faith in human beings. They’ll cause you nothing but grief.” He patted the younger man’s shoulder. “Blair . . . wish I knew what makes the little bastard tick.”

  “Oh,” replied Cardozo, “that’s simple. I found that out during the debates on our constitution and laws. It’s fear. He doesn’t like or trust his fellow man, so he’s afraid of him.”

  Anthony Hrdlicka walked slowly down the dim street of the village, headed toward the river. The old man’s shoulders were bowed and he puffed jerkily at the cigar clenched between his teeth. One of the planet’s two little moons was already high in the sky, shining bravely among constellations uncharted, unknown. Hrdlicka picked his way easily enough along the pebbled path that took over when the street ended.

  He passed the towering hulk of the Tonia. It was empty now and would stay where it had rammed into the alien soil, a leaning tower of gleaming alloy. As time passed, its former passengers would cut away its metal as they needed it and, unless they found usable ores, one day there would be nothing left of the Tonia but a tribal memory.

  The path ended at the crude wharf they had built at the river’s edge. Hrdlicka walked past a storage shed to the edge of the wharf, sat down and swung his legs over the edge. There he sat, chin in hands, elbows on knees, and stared somberly at the quiet water.

  After a while he muttered, “Damn fools!”

  The Council had met that afternoon. The old man grinned briefly at the memory of the battle he and Brandt Cardozo had waged before the final vote had beaten them down. Cardozo, he thought, was a damn good man . . . he would have been a great help to Hrdlicka back . . . back in those great days that would never come again. Why, and the old man’s eyes lighted up as he remembered, there was that time he’d had the big fight with the government over the ownership of certain mines in Sirius III. He could have used a man like Cardozo in that deal—except Cardozo, the young romantic, would have been on the government’s side. Which was all right, too, the USN lads had been a bunch of bright, tough-minded kids. Not like today’s hysterical sheep, blatting after Hugo Blair . . .

  He scowled at the gurgling water.

  And felt a brief, sharp pain under his left shoulder. Hrdlicka waited and the pain went away. He knew it would come again and again. After all, he was seventy-three. And one day they’d dig another hole in the little cemetery where most of the crew and officers of the Tonia now rested and . . . what would he be leaving?

  He was a little surprised at himself. That he should be concerned with the brave new laws of a huddle of castaways when he had, well, not broken but certainly evaded the laws of a confederation of sixteen planets! And why should he, Anthony Hrdlicka, be worked up over the coming death of a miserable wretch who was no good to anyone? Hrdlicka’s cigar had gone out, but he still puffed at it. With his usual harsh realism he began to examine the situation and himself.

  There was a scuffling sound behind him and he turned, alert and wary. This planet had evidenced no intelligent life—yet. A tall figure moved cautiously out of the shadows of the shed. Hrdlicka heard the mutter of a voice and called out, “Who’s there?”

&
nbsp; The tall shadow moved closer, then spoke. “Is that Hrdlicka?”

  “Yes.” He squinted, then grinned broadly. “Why, it’s Brandt! Welcome to the mourner’s bench, lad!”

  Brandt Cardozo moved nearer. Hrdlicka saw that he was frowning.

  “What are you doing here?” Cardozo said.

  “Came down to get away from a bunch of goddam fools. Come on, boy, sit down and have a smoke. You know, we better find some kind of tobacco weed on this place or there’s going to be a lot of nervous wrecks soon. I’m down to my last case of cigars myself.”

  “No. No, thanks.” Cardozo walked to the edge of the wharf and looked quickly up and down the river. “Have you seen anyone around here?” he asked.

  “No. Why?”

  “Ah, never mind.” Cardozo paused, then, still not looking at Hrdlicka, said, “You plan to be here much longer? It’s—it’s getting cool, you know.”

  Hrdlicka peered up at him.

  “What’s on your mind, son?” he asked quietly. Cardozo did not answer. Hrdlicka snapped his fingers. “I know! I’m the goddam fool! You’re worryin’ about the execution.”

  “There’ll be no execution.”

  “Eh? What did you say?”

  “I said, there will be no execution!”

  Hrdlicka scrunched backward until his feet were on the wharf. Then, with considerable grunting, he hauled himself erect. He stood, hands on hips, staring at Brandt Cardozo. He took the cold cigar from his mouth and tossed it into the river.

  “You’d better explain yourself.”

  Brandt Cardozo still looked out at the river.

  “There’ll be no execution because I won’t stand for it. You might as well know I’ve got Tasker over there in the shed. I’m taking him down the river on a cotton-weed raft.”

  “Well . . . I’ll be—”