The Judge nodded, slowly. “Defender, do you want to respond?”
The Defender looked ... tired. Martin wondered, suddenly, what would happen to him for taking on the case. If, of course, he had taken it willingly ... Citizenship classes had stated the importance of having Public Defenders, but the Defenders weren't allowed to do more that put forward the arguments used by their clients. They couldn't serve as lawyers ...
“My clients are used to a very different society,” the Defender said.
“A society they chose to leave,” the Prosecutor injected.
“And they have yet to grow used to living in our world,” the Defender added, ignoring the interruption. “They find it hard to adapt to changes and took it badly when their daughter moved ahead of them.”
“Excuses,” the Prosecutor said, bluntly. “The fact of the matter is that they committed a double murder, with one of the victims being their own daughter. Their excuses do not change the simple fact that they killed two people.”
“They also had no reason to trust our courts,” the Defender added. “They did not expect a fair trial.”
“They have been given a fair trial,” the Prosecutor said. “Their crime is just beyond any form of defence.”
The Judge cleared his throat, loudly. “The Jurors will now pass judgement,” he said. A door at the back of the court opened, inviting them to step through and recess themselves. “We will wait for their return.”
***
Yolanda understood, better than she cared to admit, just how hard it could be to adapt to a new society. She’d had to do it twice; once as her stepmother’s slave and once as a Solar Union immigrant. To that extent, she could feel sorry for the defendants ... but it faded as she grasped the truth of what they’d done. To choose to kill their own daughter, to destroy her life and that of her lover, purely because they thought she was disgracing them? It was unacceptable. No one could tolerate such murders without doing colossal damage to the fabric of society.
None of the excuses were even remotely valid. She knew how easy it was for the Solar Union to identify objective and subjective truths. If Anisa had thought she’d been raped, the Solar Union would have interrogated everyone and determined just what they’d been thinking at the time. A cold-blooded rape, born of lust; drunken fumbling that had gone too far; a honest belief that consent had been granted; a deliberate attempt to get someone in deep shit ... it would have been identified, then judgement would have been passed. And the Solar Union would not have played favourites. If Mathew had been guilty, Mathew would have paid.
In the end, the Prosecutor had been right. It all boiled down to one very simple fact. They had murdered two people and tried to cover it up.
She accessed the secure datacores and studied the evidence. DNA traces, recovered from the bodies; the medical report, from the autopsy; the interrogation logs, from the police force; witness interviews, with Mathew’s parents and family; even, in the end, the job offers they’d both received from a major mining corporation. They would have made it, Yolanda was sure; even trapped on Gunn, they’d been trying to better themselves. If they’d moved faster, they might have left their parents behind and gone onwards to build themselves a better life.
It could have been me, she thought. She had sometimes thought her stepmother would one day pitch her out of the house, but what if she’d been murdered instead? There were so many murders in California, according to the grapevine, that one more would go completely unnoticed, if her body was ever found. I could have died in her place.
She shuddered, sickened. Her father and mother had married, in spite of their families; no one had tried to murder them, merely exclude them from society. Perhaps, she thought, she understood her father a little better now, even though she could never forgive. No one would want to be excluded forever from the people who were just like him ...
The foreman cleared his throat. “You will need to cast a vote using your implants,” he started. “The first vote is for guilt or innocence; the second is for punishment.”
Yolanda nodded, then accessed her implants and entered the voting system. It showed nothing to show her how the others had voted; there had been no debate, merely a moment to inspect the evidence. But it was clear, more than clear, that they were guilty, that two innocent people were dead. She swallowed, then voted guilty. The next section called for her to decide their punishment, ranging from years of hard labour to death. Some of the milder options were not included when the crime was murder.
She swallowed again. How could she condemn someone to death?
You were on Freedom when the ship ambushed an unsuspecting target, her own thoughts mocked her. How much of the blame for their deaths do you bear?
It wasn't a fair comparison, Yolanda thought. She hadn't issued the orders or pushed the firing key. But she'd known she might have to take lives, one day, if she went into the military. The idea she wouldn't have to fight, with the Galactics slowly turning their attention to Earth, was laughable.
But that didn't matter too. All that mattered was that a young couple were dead.
Bracing herself, she made her choice.
***
Martin had never seen a law drama in his youth; indeed, the only time they’d ever been mentioned, it had been as one of Hollywood’s attempts to beat competition from the Solar Union that had gone nowhere. In hindsight, he had a theory that they’d been deliberately banned from television, just to make it harder for people to participate in government. It was as good a theory as any, he thought. He made a mental note to check it and then sat upright as the jury filed back into the courtroom.
Yolanda looked pale, Martin noted. He felt his heart go out to her as he wondered just which way she had voted. It took a simple majority vote to convict, then pass sentence; Yolanda could have voted against conviction, if she’d wanted, without making any real difference ...
“Foreman,” the Judge said. “Have you reached a verdict?”
“Yes, Your Honour,” the Forman said. “We find the defendants guilty.”
Martin turned to gaze at the defendants. One of them started to swear in a language he didn't recognise, two more stared in disbelief ... and the remaining two started to cry. Martin clenched his fist, feeling a sudden surge of hatred for the immigrants. They’d come, in hopes of building a new life, yet they’d brought the shadows of the old with them. Martin had been told, when he’d taken the oath, that he would be well advised to break all ties with Earth, but he hadn't understood it at the time. He didn't have any ties with Earth. But he understood now. Earth’s past was a shadow hanging over the human race ...
... And the Solar Union had chosen to leave it behind.
The power of ‘get over it,’ he’d been told. Scudder had pointed out, in exacting detail, that the places of Earth that suffered from endless bouts of civil unrest and war ended to be the places where old grudges hung around, pervading the political landscape. Martin had been interested enough to download essays written by Professor Cozort, who had devised the theory and then proven it on Earth. You have to leave the past behind to rise to the future.
The Judge stood. “Your sentence has been passed,” he stated. “You will be taken from this place to Death Row, where you will remain until you are executed.”
He paused, then summed up the case. “We call ourselves a tolerant society, but our tolerance ends when people are harmed, or threatened with harm. You have no right to force your children to obey you in adulthood, marry someone they do not wish to marry, remain in the home when they want to leave and spread their wings ... and you definitely do not have the right to murder them. Your deaths will serve as punishment for your crimes, but also a reminder to others than the rules cannot be broken with impunity. We do not make allowances for those who do not act in a civilised manner.
“The remainder of your family, the ones who were uninvolved in your crime and unaware of it, will be given the choice between remaining here or returning to Earth,” he con
tinued. “It will be their choice, for they will no longer be influenced by you. We will not seek to blame them for being related to you, because we treat people as individuals.
“And because you are individually guilty, you will die.”
He stared down at the defendants, then asked one final question. “Do you have anything you wish to say?”
“She was my daughter,” the older man shouted. His voice was accented, but clear enough to understand. “I had every right to punish her for defying me!”
Another defendant – one of the younger men - rammed his shoulder into his side, forcing him to shut up.
“We were doing what we were told,” he said. “It wasn't our fault!”
“You would have obeyed orders to commit a crime,” the Judge pointed out. “But your interrogation transcripts reveal a different story. You came here, expecting jobs and prestige to fall into your lap; you never worked for either. Instead, you became bitter and twisted and you hated your sister, for fitting in better than you ever could. When your father and uncle insisted she had to die, you raised no objection.
“It would have been easy for you to save her life. You could have warned her, or gone to the police, or even threatened your father and uncle to keep them from harming her. And yet you not only watched her die, but participated in the murder.”
There was another torrent of swearing from the defendants. The bailiffs stepped forward and half-marched, half-carried them towards the door. Martin watched them go, feeling nothing but cold hatred in his heart. Men like them had played a large role in wrecking the ghettos, aided and abetted by outsiders who had honestly thought they had been doing his people a favour. But really, who were his people now? He glanced down at his dark-skinned hand and thought, coldly, just how easy it would be to be white. Or yellow. Or a whole stream of colours that simply didn't occur in nature.
And, in doing so, prove there was no point in colour-racism.
“The courtroom is now open,” the Judge said. “In line with the Fair Trials Act, all evidence gathered by the police will be placed online for public study. The sentence itself will be carried out one week from today, unless strong grounds arise for questioning the evidence.”
Martin watched a handful of men – reporters, he guessed – race for the door, then followed them at a more sedate pace. Most of the audience seemed pleased at the result, although some of them seemed to think a stronger punishment was in order. Martin found himself rolling his eyes at the suggestions – including impalement and castration – before remembering some of the gangbangers in the ghetto. Horrific punishments had been their thing, both to keep people cowed and to indulge their sadistic tastes. But eventually the latter became more important than the former.
It was nearly an hour before Yolanda joined him, looking paler than ever. “I had to review the records,” she said, as she clasped his arm. It was so intimate a gesture that he almost pulled away in shock. “They did more than just murder the young man.”
“I wish I was surprised,” Martin said. He wanted to ask which way she’d voted – and for what – but he had a feeling she wouldn't want to answer. “People like that thrive on terror – and terrorising people. It keeps everyone weak and scared, so weak and scared they don’t realise they’re in the majority.”
Yolanda stopped and looked up at him. “That was profound,” she said. “Have you been reading?”
“Thank you,” Martin said. “Lieutenant Robbins gave me a reading list to go through in my spare time. I didn't know I had spare time, but apparently I was meant to cut some of my time elsewhere.”
They shared a grin. Spare time was always hard to come by on Freedom, even when the starship was in FTL. There was never any shortage of things to do.
“I didn't understand this asteroid at first,” Martin continued. “But I think I do now. It’s a filter for those who can't or won’t become good citizens. Those murdering bastards could have stayed here indefinitely, safe from whatever they were fleeing and yet taking no part in the rest of the Solar Union, if they hadn't killed their daughter. Their mere presence would have helped urge their daughter to make something more of herself.”
“Sickening,” Yolanda said. “Why did they even come here if they knew they would have to play by the rules?”
“They probably thought the rules didn't apply to them,” Martin said, shortly. “Or that they enjoyed exemption from some of the rules, based on race or sex or religion or ...”
He shook his head. “And then they committed a crime and now they’re going to die,” he added. “Better that than demonising an entire race or religion.”
“I voted to kill them,” Yolanda said. “They were evil bastards. There’s no doubt about their crimes. They willingly murdered two people for falling in love. They deserve death. So why do I feel guilty?”
Martin shrugged. “You’re a decent person?”
“I voted to kill them,” Yolanda repeated.
“Some people can't be saved,” Martin said. He felt pity – but only for Yolanda. “Some people are raised to think they can do anything, but I don’t think those bastards were. I think they knew they were doing something wrong and they did it anyway. So fuck them!”
Yolanda shook her head, sadly. “There are supposed to be four days of shore leave left,” she said. “I think we should go somewhere.”
Martin smiled. “I can ask the Major,” he said. “But we’re meant to be within airlock range of Freedom.”
“Blast,” Yolanda said.
“We could always find a hotel,” Martin said. He reviewed the duty roster quickly. He’d been told to stay close to the ship, but not too close. “There are several on the asteroid that are better than the sleeping caves.”
“Yeah,” Yolanda said. “A chance to sleep in ... I’d like that.”
“Me too,” Martin said. “Me too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
A mother is in jail tonight in Boston, USA, after shooting two criminals who attempted to break into her house. The third – surviving - criminal stated, upon his arrest, that the homeowner did not call a challenge, even though they had broken through the window and were ransacking her kitchen. In a statement before the media, the Governor warned that private individuals taking the law into their own hands could not be tolerated.
-Solar News Network, Year 53
“If we had any doubt about their intentions,” Kevin finished, “it has gone now.”
He sat back and took a breath. The Special Security Council had scrutinised the data with gimlet eyes, asking question after question when they didn't understand something. On one hand, Kevin appreciated being asked smart questions; on the other hand, they sometimes went over the same material time and time again. It was more than a little frustrating.
But then, everything is riding on the decision to go to war, he thought. Give them time to study the intelligence properly.
“So it would seem,” President Ross concluded.
Bute leaned forward. “Are we sure we jumped a Tokomak ship?” He asked. “For the masters of the universe, that ship sure fell easily. Did we attack another race of scavengers by accident?”
Mongo cleared his throat, loudly. “The alien captives are definitely Tokomak,” he said. “The Galactics have no way to change their species, certainly not without leaving traces behind. As for the poorly-maintained ship ...”
He sighed. “The British Empire had the same problem before Admiral Fisher and the First World War,” he explained. “There was no creditable threat to British naval dominance, so the Brits became more obsessed with polishing the ships until they gleamed rather than preparing for war. Captains were promoted for keeping their ships looking good when the Admirals visited, while gunnery practice went by the wayside. Officers were expected to wear perfect uniforms rather than crawl through the tunnels to inspect the ship’s condition for themselves.
“Their dominance had become something granted to them by right, rather than something they’d worke
d to earn and keep. It was, they thought, the natural way of things, because the last time they’d faced a real opponent was during the War of 1812. The USN had similar problems before the Horde visited Earth, in many ways. No one really paid any attention to the Chinese plans to build hundreds of long-range antiship missiles until it was almost too late.
“And, in this case, some of the Tokomak Admirals are actually thousands of years old,” he added, dryly. “I don’t think the Brits ever had someone older than seventy or so commanding a battlefleet. The Tokomak Admirals will have had far longer to forget what’s actually important in a military.”
“So you feel they pose far less of a threat than we had thought,” Ross said.
“If we had the same number of starships,” Mongo said, “we would wipe them out in an afternoon. It would be nothing more than a victory parade from here to Tokomak, smashing their ships like cardboard as we advanced. I’d say we could still beat them even if we had only a tenth of their numbers. But we don’t. We’re quite badly outgunned even with our tech advances.”
A Learning Experience 2: Hard Lessons Page 23