TROPHY

by Paul M. Schofield

  It was all Rogerton could do to remain calm and unmovable, so fearsome was the onslaught of the terrified panther. Never had she felt so small and vulnerable. There was no place to run, no refuge to hide in, or way to conceal herself from the undisciplined rage and terror of her attacker. The depth of her fear was beyond her experience. Only her trained and disciplined mind kept her restrained from total panic. She forced herself to concentrate on her pity for the animal, and why she had wanted to help it in the first place. She mentally shut her eyes and ears to the violent inferno circling around her, and emanated as much love and compassion as she could muster. She began speaking the same words she had repeatedly said to the panther. “I do not want to hurt you – I want to help you.” Over and over again she said these words, and tried to fix scenes in her mind of what they meant in relation to the panther.

  After what seemed an eternity, she mentally opened her eyes and ears to discover an eerie quietness and stillness so different from the previous horrendous onslaught. The river was clear and calm in its greenish depths. The shapes she felt in it were formless and vague, the menacing black storm could not be sensed.

  She reached out and approached one of the shapes that moved closer and surrounded her. She felt trees and plants, a forest with familiar paths and scents, the memories of the panther’s ancient home, now long forgotten. A wave of sadness swept over her, and only with great difficulty could she force herself to leave.

  She reached out and approached another shape that gently enveloped her, drowning her in memories of panther kittens – brothers and sisters tumbling and playing with each other in the cool grass of a hot summer day. One by one they grew older and disappeared, instilling another wave of sadness and loss, a family born to forget, each departing to go his separate way.

  A great sense of loss came over her and she cried with despair in her heart, acutely sensing the loneliness of animals as they struggle through their desperate, often singular and tragic lives. Forcing herself again to leave, she cried at the seeming futility and emptiness that continually stalked them all.

  Suddenly, she sensed the black shape approaching again, but more cautiously. Slowly approaching, she lovingly touched it and led it to the shapes of hidden memories she had reluctantly left moments before. It, too, responded in sadness as she had done. Radiating love and compassion, she pictured in her mind a panther running and leaping again, free and strong. She continued to repeat this until finally the black shape glowed with a goldenness, making sounds that could only be construed as purring. The Lieutenant cried out in joy! She now had her answer! The great cat would soon be ready to run again!

  She felt the dream-like confusion as their joined consciousness gently separated. She and the panther were individuals again. She looked at the panther on the pedestal and smiled, feeling great joy. The panther continued to purr, more content than it had been in a long time.

  Guardian VII remotely shut off the pedestal, the panther fell asleep again, and the Lieutenant returned to the control room.

  “That was quite an ordeal, Lieutenant. How are you feeling? Your vital signs and brain waves are normal, even somewhat enhanced,” Guardian VII said, scanning her instruments.

  “I am very tired, Guardian, but I feel happy and satisfied. It is hard to explain. It was terrifying, to say the least, but we were successful. He wants to run again! He told me so. Did you hear him purring?” Rogerton said. “How long did it all take?”

  “You were linked for almost five hours. We were very concerned about you and the panther. But you did admirably! Now we will really be able to help this poor creature and give him back his life.” She stood and gave the Lieutenant a wide grin. “Please go get some rest. We have a surprise tomorrow that we do not want you to miss.”

  “Thank you, Guardian. I wonder if it will top this experience.”

  Chapter XXXI

  Louis Franelli was angry as he sat in the soft, black chair by the fireplace. He glanced repeatedly at Guardian V, remembering the young, tall woman he had worked with years ago, her once coppery hair now lightened by age. Her freckles were the same, as were her bright, widely spaced green eyes. She had put on a few kilos over the years but still looked trim in her simple uniform. He wondered why she was alone in the room with him, sitting in another chair, facing the holographic fire.

  “We are pleased with the degree of your cooperation, Louis.” She looked at him as if contemplating his thoughts. “We frankly thought you would resist us.”

  “Then you really don't understand me, Sondra.” He turned to the dancing flames.

  “Why do you continue to call me Sondra? Yes, that was my name years ago when we first worked together, but now I am just Guardian V.”

  “I told you before, you are not my Guardian. No one is. I hate politics! I hate phony loyalties! The Empire is just another system leading the blind along, stripping their real freedoms and controlling their lives, convincing them to be happy.” He turned quickly in his chair and faced her. “Do you know what true happiness is? Do you really?” He continued his stare.

  “To be honest, Louis, I don't. Not completely. I'm content – and that's part of it,” she said, returning his gaze. “I suppose that true happiness is too abstract to define absolutely, and that it means something different for each individual.”

  “Finally you have said something I can agree with.”

  The Guardian smiled at his answer. She studied him closely, trying to remember him as a younger man. Little had changed over the years. He was still tall and thin with a narrow face, wide shoulders, and large hands and feet. His nose was prominent, but it was his piercing, light blue eyes that drew your attention. His stare could be intimidating, but to her it was wonderfully familiar.

  “So you really don't have a strong loyalty to Galen Bestmarke?” she said, still contemplating his features. “Why did you help him so much? Because he rescued you from a prison term?”

  “He didn't rescue me, he abducted me. He offered me the choice of 'working' for him or returning to my unjust prison term. I had the choice of comfortable servitude or incarceration. I chose to serve him and he paid me well,” he said, turning back to the fire. “He let me do my work with total freedom. No one was looking over my shoulder and asking questions about moral responsibility. No one was telling me ‘No, you cannot do that for this or that reason’. He let me think unhindered. That's true freedom and happiness. Without shackles or blinders, my mind runs free. With controls, my mind shuts down. I want to do pure research, wherever it leads me. I am not concerned with varying opinions on moral values.”

  “Yes, that's where the problems came in when you were here at CENTRAL years ago,” Guardian V said, returning her gaze to the fire. “Some did not, could not, accept the direction that some of your research was leading. They tried to force you in a certain direction and you resisted. You did not follow their rules.”

  She vividly recalled the Compu-Court session.

  “Mr. Franelli,” the Prime Adjudicator had said. “Please tell the court what your position is at CENTRAL.”

  “I am a senior researcher, I am not a killer or a madman as some have stated.”

  “Please, Mr. Franelli, just answer the question in an orderly and factual way. Your opinion will not be considered at this time.”

  “When will it be considered?” Louis said, raising his voice. “Don’t my opinions and thoughts matter? This court is a sham, just like other parts of your precious Empire.”

  “Mr. Franelli, please control your remarks. They will not be held against you but they waste time. We are only interested in the facts – in the truth.”

  “Very well,” Louis said. “I will answer your questions truthfully.”

  “Good,” the Prime Adjudicator said. “Please tell us the nature of your research.”

  “I have projects involving cybernetics and artificial intelligence. I have a number of nuclear engineering projects. These involve power supplies of a relatively small scale.”
>
  “What would you consider your most important project, Mr. Franelli?”

  “The project in which I have invested the most time and resources is the study of the Keyhole Anomaly.”

  “What do you think the Keyhole is?” the Prime Adjudicator said. “How dangerous do you think it is?”

  “It is my opinion that it is a conduit through time,” Louis said. “It is little understood and extremely dangerous.”

  “What do you base your opinions on, Mr. Franelli?”

  “Observations and calculations. The observations are based on factually gathered evidence. The calculations are based, in part, on theory supported by the observations, but not totally so.”

  “Have your calculations been tested?”

  “Not completely, some parts have, perhaps thirty percent.”

  “And what did they show, Mr. Franelli?”

  “They showed promise in some areas, but were not as conclusive as we had hoped.”

  “Did you share your results with anyone else?” the Prime Adjudicator said.

  “Yes. Researcher Sondra Anderson helped me gather the observations and develop and test the calculations.”

  “Is that statement accurate, Researcher Anderson?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, we collaborated on gathering the observations and on much of the theoretical calculations,” Sondra said.

  “Thank you,” the Prime Adjudicator said. “Mr. Franelli, did you share your work with anyone else?”

  “That’s irrelevant – I refuse to answer, that should not matter.”

  “But it does matter and that is why I ask you again. Did you share your work with anyone else?”

  “I will not answer.”

  “Did you share your calculations with Carolyn Rogerton, a Pilot on the Research Ship Rosella?” the Prime Adjudicator said. “And did she pilot the Rosella into the Keyhole and disappear with a presumed loss of twenty lives and a research vessel?”

  “Yes, she did, but she acted presumptuously, against my instructions. I specifically warned her not to attempt to enter the Keyhole.”

  “Did Carolyn Rogerton understand the calculations, Mr. Franelli?”

  “Yes! I was amazed! I could speak to her and she knew what I was saying. She was extraordinarily intelligent and could visualize the calculations. She knew how to apply them to the Keyhole. Had I known of her impulsiveness I would have limited my information to her.”

  “Why did you not tell CENTRAL of her knowledge of the calculations and her impulsiveness to apply them? Surely you were aware of the professional consequences of sharing highly technical and dangerous information with unauthorized personnel?”

  “I never dreamed she would try to navigate it until we were sure the calculations were correct,” Louis said. His face took on a pained expression. “I had warned her many times – I thought she realized the danger.”

  “Researcher Anderson, were you aware of this situation, that Carolyn Rogerton knew of the calculations and the theory of time-travel through the Keyhole?”

  “Rogerton was helpful in our obtaining the astronomical observations as were others on the crew of the Rosella, Ma’am. I knew she was interested in our results but I knew nothing of her knowledge of the calculations or applying them.”

  “Would you say that Mr. Franelli acted with neglect in disclosing the calculations to her?” the Prime Adjudicator said.

  “No, not really,” Sondra said. “They were theories, they were unproven. She should never have taken it upon herself to try them.”

  “Mr. Franelli, you have been accused of wrong doing. Specifically: professional misconduct by sharing highly technical and dangerous information with an unauthorized person or persons. Do you feel the accusation is justified?”

  “No, I do not! As scientists we share information and collaborate with each other. Sometimes we gain valuable ideas from people who are not on the 'list'. Many times the results are greater than the sum of the parts. Important breakthroughs have been accomplished by sharing information. To put controls on that freedom is to control our thinking and our progress.”

  “Mr. Franelli, the Court agrees that you were unaware that Pilot Carolyn Rogerton would take matters into her own hands and attempt to navigate the Keyhole. However, you are held professionally responsible for sharing information with Rogerton that she had no authorization to see or study. Therefore, action must be taken against you for sharing your calculations,” the Prime Adjudicator said. “But, the presumed loss of twenty lives as well as the loss of Empirical property requires there must be an accounting. This is a mandatory law of the New Victorian Empire. Violation of the Code of Conduct for Professional Researchers must also be accounted for. Therefore, the Court orders Louis Franelli to be banned from engaging in any and all research at CENTRAL from this time forward. The Court also orders Louis Franelli to serve a term of incarceration, the length to be determined, at the Luna One Rehabilitation Institute. You will be required to leave CENTRAL immediately under full escort. Your term will begin now.”

  “But Prime Adjudicator, this is not fair!” Sondra said. “Louis has done nothing wrong – this is not just!”

  “I am sorry, Researcher Anderson. The Court has ruled.”

  “It's just like I said – this court is a sham!” Louis said. “It's a reflection of the rest of your phony Empire. Someday CENTRAL will pay for this injustice!”

  “Mr. Franelli, the Court has ruled. Please step down.”

  The memories of that day were clear and painful to Guardian V. And yet events had recently turned around with surprising quickness. She studied Louis as he gazed at the fire, lost in thought. “The Guardians desire life and freedom for everyone, Louis. Is that also how you feel?”

  “I am as passionate about life and freedom as they are. I believe in preserving life if I am able. But I speak only for myself. I cannot control those I work for,” he said, glancing briefly at her to make his point. “I was bitter with the Empire when Bestmarke took me, so I willingly built weapons for him, vengeance was all that mattered to me. But I soon tired of his consuming hatred for the Empire. I was dismayed to realize how much like him I was becoming and felt a great longing to return to my research and my friends at CENTRAL. But that was now impossible. I was a wanted man, banned from CENTRAL, with no real friends.

  “My existence was empty except for my research. Research became my whole life. That's why I continued to work for Bestmarke. He eventually offered me my freedom – but where could I go? He provided all my needs and encouraged my research. Most of the time I didn't agree with his thinking, and he didn't stifle mine in any way. In fact, it was my idea to develop his trophy preservation systems. He was content to hang their heads on the wall, dead and stuffed. I convinced him to let them live. I realize that their quality of life is not the same, but they are still alive, and perhaps their lives can someday be improved. He gave me freedom to choose, so I did the same with him, nothing more. Like I said, I don't believe in contrived loyalty.” He turned back to watch the flames.

  These were new thoughts to the Guardian. Never before had Louis been so candid. Was there a ring of truth in his raspy voice? She hoped so because her feelings of compassion and gentle affection for this brilliant and eccentric man had been growing since his arrival back at CENTRAL. Working together years ago she had felt the same, but his intensity and overwhelming desire for his research projects had left him singularly focused, seemingly without any need for companionship. Perhaps with age and new hope in his life, he was ready for a relationship beyond his work and research.

  “I understand you, Louis,” she said, turning more toward him. “But how do you feel about real loyalty? What about loyalty among good, close friends, or between two people who care deeply for each other?”

  Louis stared into the fire and did not answer her immediately. Contemplating her next words she finally blurted out: “I have always cared for you, Louis, but I have never really understood you, until today. That has been a great failin
g on my part and I'm sorry. Can we be close friends, Louis? Will you accept that kind of loyalty?”

  Continuing to look away, he seemed torn in his emotions as if struggling to assess his own feelings, contemplating how to answer this bold revealing of deep felt emotions long restrained. Finally he turned and looked her in the eyes. His eyes were more subdued and gentle. “Sondra, please, let me call you Sondra, for that is what you have always been to me. I must speak honestly, I owe you that. Expressing my feelings has always been difficult. You have always been a good friend to me, but I do not know if I am capable of that leap of faith, the faith to be loyal to someone other than myself.”

  “Think about it, Louis. Ponder it in your mind and heart. You have to be honest with yourself. I will accept whatever decision you make.”

  Chapter XXXII

  Earth Date: 475 N.V.A.

  Location: Asteroid Belt

  “Are you sure that your contact will follow through, Mr. Cedric?” Izax said, contemplating his final decision from his plush, black leather chair in his office. “I do not favor repeating payments when one payment should do.”

  “Yes, Mr. Izax, the Lieutenant in question...”

  “Stop! Choose your words carefully, Mr. Cedric!” He stood and dramatically raised his gloved hand. “Never tell me names, rank, or any person that could implicate my part in this. Remember, I must not know any names, I am invisible. This must be arranged to appear as Bestmarke’s work. The Empire is expecting him to come after Franelli, we must not disappoint them.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Cedric said, tugging at the collar of his dark gray suit. “Our contact is high ranking and intimately familiar with the layout of CENTRAL. She knows the corridors least monitored, and where the walls are more easily breached. However, there are sensors virtually everywhere, so we are planning to use a device similar to the cloaking mechanism on a star ship.”