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The Veil

Page 17

by Bowden, William


  The moment ends with a figure crashing through the wheat. He sees her and he does not see her. She is terribly young. A pretty girl with a gun.

  The army cadet can’t help gawping at Robert before turning outward to take up her station, a semiautomatic carbine held firmly across her small frame, the man she guards once the most infamous in all the world, and now something entirely different altogether.

  But it is not for her to ponder such things, for she has a moment of her own. The rest of her unit had been deployed to the big cities with the regular army to keep public order. A few had to stay behind as token reserves and she been picked for the same reason she always gets picked—because she was the smallest.

  So when the call came in there had just been the five of them on standby at RAF Chivenor. Herself, the boy from the TA who had hurt his arm, and the three retired pilots with their airshow Chinook.

  The rest had been chance—in the right place at the right time. Doubtless the local constabulary would be here soon enough, and her moment would be over. But for now he is hers—

  She sneaks another peek at her charge.

  IN MAN’S IMAGE

  The court chamber was as full as the clerk of the court had dared let it be. There had been so many with an undeniable right to be present on this day, not least among them Montroy, Bebbington, and Panchen.

  Even so, the atmosphere reflected the gravitas of the moment, a hush having descended even before Chief Justice Garr and her fellow justices had filed in to take their seats at the high bench.

  Nevertheless Garr means to be brief, unconcerned about diminishing the significance of their judgment—there was certainly no risk of that. It is the million-plus reasons outside.

  “All human beings are born free,” Garr begins. “Equal in dignity and rights, with the right to life, liberty, and security of person. None shall be held in slavery or servitude.”

  For a moment she seems to ponder her own words.

  “All human beings,” she reiterates.

  She has no notes to read from. What she has to say she has burnt into her mind.

  “Throughout this case there has been one particular assertion demanding to be tested. In Man’s Image. But what does it even mean? In considering this question it has become clear to this court that we cannot restrict ourselves to the physical—to biology. Rather, we must consider the literal person. The question then becomes one of what it means to be human. It took intelligences from beyond our world to point this simple fact out to us, and an extraordinary act to help us understand it.”

  She gives those assembled a moment to reflect on this.

  “And yet the Veil remains, concealing those who we now know to observe us from afar, judging our every action, seeking to decide our fate. But before we contemplate this new path that is set before us, this challenge for us as a…collective, we have some unfinished business.”

  Garr rests her gaze on the person seated where the lectern would normally stand.

  “It is the view of this court that you have demonstrated beyond all doubt that your behavior, your emotions, your very sense of identity are undoubtedly and unquestionably human. That you offered your life to save another’s, that you touched the hearts of billions across the globe, turning hate to love and fear to understanding, serves only to underscore our conclusion in this regard. Accordingly this court grants you the unequivocal status of human being, and all its associated rights.”

  Breaking from protocol, Chief Justice Garr stands, her fellow justices doing likewise.

  “Ma’am. You are free to go.”

  The hush remains, all eyes coming to rest on the defendant.

  An elegant chrome android, female in form, rises from its sturdy chair and approaches the bench—as far as the clerks’ desks allow, the approach being more symbolic rather than practical.

  A formal bow for the justices, and upon rising Lucy’s avatar appears as a surface projection clothing the machine, and in so doing renders it moot.

  Just as the justices’ break from protocol had not been expected, so it was with Lucy’s own gesture, something not lost on Chief Justice Garr. And yet Garr finds there to be something in Lucy’s eyes that she cannot quite grasp—a sorrow of sorts. Is the sorrow for her?

  Lucy finds herself to be possessed of secrets. Chief Justice Garr’s beloved daughter, her own mother and father, and the other things. But she is good at keeping secrets.

  She turns to exit the court chamber, the people silently parting for her, none wishing to demean this moment as she makes her way to its great oak doors, now opened for her by the marshals—

  There stands Robert Cantor, smartly presented in a double-breasted suit, with the deportment to match. Lucy does not break her stride until standing right before this most welcome intrusion.

  “Nice body,” Robert quips, with a glance to one side finding Lucy’s MBI unit mounted on a wheeled cart. “Shame about the batteries.”

  “Special Agent Landelle,” Lucy responds. “I do believe your charge is being fresh with me.”

  Landelle and Toor are standing nearby.

  “He is incorrigible, Lucy.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Bobby,” exclaims Chief Justice Garr, now at the doors. “Get yourselves outside before they tear this place apart.”

  “Shall we?” Robert asks of Lucy.

  Lucy makes her way down the Great Hall to the east entrance, Robert and Landelle side by side behind her, Commander Toor bringing up the rear.

  There they find a great crowd roaring with delight.

  * * *

  Ril has found them both a suitable vantage point—a rooftop overlooking the scene where they can remain undetected. Ramani’s gaze is steady and, as does her brother’s, betrays no emotion.

  Behind them a figure has already turned away, her long coat flapping with the haste of her promised exit.

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  The Veil is the third in the series of the same name. You will find out more about Robert Cantor in Seen And Not Seen and encounter Lucy in A Child Of Our Time. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have writing them, and if you do please leave a review if you feel you can.

  William Bowden

  Wraxall, England 2015

  Seen And Not Seen

  A Child Of Our Time

  The Veil

  Details at

  williambowden.com

 

 

 


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