Daniel’s blood boiled. The lying bastards, he thought. He made himself keep reading. For nearly a hundred years, the events surrounding the plague were seen more and more as bigotry and terrorism. On the bicentennial of the World Plague, as it had become known as, several world governments issued public apologies to the Tolligarkians, many of whom were now serving as technological advisers to many world leaders. A devastating war had erupted not long after, and many countries had banded together into large world powers; the Asian and American governments had fought the African Republic, with the European Federation remaining neutral. The war left many parts of the world in ruins, both environmentally and civically. Soon after, the five world nations, including the Slavic Social Union, began building the space stations in Earth orbit from resources mined in the asteroid belt.
Daniel sat back and closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he had read, but most of the articles agreed. There were, of course, variations, but for the most part they all agreed that Daniel had acted to keep Earth from benefiting from the generosity of the Tolligarkians, and some even went so far as to describe New Washington as a terrorist organization that had released biological weapons and caused the plague.
There was another knock at the door, and Daniel saw Norixum and Warkoski waiting on him. They went down together to have supper in the hotel restaurant, but Daniel didn’t have much of an appetite. Once they had finished and were walking through the lobby, they found themselves surrounded by reporters. They shouted questions like, “Are you really Daniel Brickman?” “What do you have to say to accusations of mass genocide?” and “Why did you come back?”
It was too crazy a scene, and Warkoski pulled him physically from the street. They returned to their rooms, but shortly after midnight the lieutenant knocked on Daniel’s door. He wasn’t sleeping, but watching news footage being shot from the sidewalk outside his hotel. Apparently, the people were calling for his blood.
“Vacation’s been cut short,” said Warkoski. He was obviously mad, but Daniel didn’t care. “Real smart move signing your name for that data reader,” he sneered. “What’d you order one for anyway? Every room’s got one built in.”
“Sorry, didn’t know that,” Daniel said calmly as he pulled his clothes on.
The reporters were camped out in the lobby and on the street outside the hotel, so Norixum used a utility tunnel to return to the transporter building. They walked through the arch and were suddenly back on the space station. The first thing Daniel noticed was Earth, glowing bright and cheery through the large windows of the station. The second were the armed soldiers with weapons ready, waiting for him.
Chapter 48
They put large, metal handcuffs on Daniel’s wrists and led him down the same bland corridor to a room full of reporters. They shouted questions once more as Daniel walked through the anteroom into what appeared to be a small courtroom. Daniel waited for probably three hours before his name was called. He was escorted to the front, where a man stepped up beside him.
“My name is Cunningham, Gregory Cunningham. I’ll be your lawyer.”
“Why do I need a lawyer?” Daniel asked. “What is going on?”
“You’re being charged with war crimes,” the lawyer said. “Apparently, you’re return is big news and the politicians are ponying up to public opinion.”
“That’s good to know, I guess.”
“Yeah, it sucks to be you. They’ll throw you under the space shuttle just to shift attention from their ineptitude for a while. Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Daniel said. “How did you get saddled defending me?”
“Oh, I volunteered. I’m a big history buff, and it’s not like lawyers have a good reputation to begin with. I’m afraid I can’t do a lot for you, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks,” Daniel said, looking at the first friendly face he had seen since returning to his own solar system. “I have a favor to ask, then.”
“Shoot,” said the lawyer.
“I’ve got a data chip in my pocket. Will you get it and research the McPherson family? If any are able, I would really like to speak to them.”
“Okay,” said Cunningham. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He reached down into Daniel’s pocket and pulled out the data chip.
Then, after another moment during which the lawyers shuffled their papers, the judge looked up and said loudly, “Daniel Brickman, you have been charged with terrorism, crimes against humanity, and war crimes. Other charges are pending. How do you plead?”
“We plead not guilty, your honor,” said Cunningham.
“The people request remand,” said a nasally woman at a table stacked with files on the opposite side of the room.
“The prisoner is remanded to the penal station to await trial,” said the judge and banged his gavel.
“Shouldn’t you have objected or something?” Daniel asked.
“It wouldn’t have done any good. You don’t know anybody, or have a place to stay. You have no money or resources. Unless, of course, you’re making this whole thing up.”
“I wish,” Daniel said.
“Well, then the penal station is as good a place to wait this thing out as any.”
“That’s easy for you to say. I doubt the penal station is very luxurious.”
“I’ll be by to visit with you soon,” said Cunningham, trying to be cheerful.
“That family might still have some correspondence for me,” Daniel said, referring to the data chip. “It’s very important to me, maybe the only thing that matters anymore.”
“Then I’ll make it my first priority.”
The armed guard escorted Daniel back through the waiting area that was still filled with reporters. Daniel ignored them, but Cunningham raised his arms and called for attention before giving a statement. He was as eloquent as any politician.
The guard took Daniel back to the transport room, where Daniel noticed they were now on the dark side of the earth. He walked through an archway and found himself in a plain, grey room. The walls were metal, without paint or any form of decoration. In front of him was a large metal door that slid open and clanged loudly on its stopper.
The guards led Daniel forward, where he was finger printed and photographed, then had his retina mapped, his blood typed, and his DNA scanned. He was also searched, which was very intrusive and extremely unpleasant. He was then put into a steam bath, which amounted to being blasted with steam that scalded his body from head to foot, then given a white jumpsuit which was no thicker than construction paper and almost as comfortable. He was given paper booties for his feet and escorted back out into the main lobby. There was a man waiting for him. The man was overweight and nearly bald. The hair he had left on his pasty scalp was grown long and plastered across his skull. He needed a shave and his clothes were wrinkled. There was nothing happy about the man, it was like talking to a ghost.
“My name is Warden Ablemier,” said the man. “You’ll be held here in the penal station until your court date, which hasn’t been set at this time. You’ll have access to news files, text only, for one hour a day. You’ll have access to the steam shower three times a week. You’ll be fed three meals a day, given access to one data book and one data reader at a time. If you damage your data reader, you will be charged and your privileges will be revoked for a period of six months, is that clear?”
The man spoke in a monotone. He wasn’t reading but might as well have been. Daniel nodded.
“Your lawyer will have visitation rights, as will family members. Friends may visit only with written approval by the Security Council. This is a maximum security facility. You will be confined to your cell, which can only be accessed by this administrative office. If you will look out this window,” the man pointed to the small port hole, it reminded Daniel of the windows in old cruise liners, “you will see that this is a honeycomb facility, with each cell being a self sustaining unit attached to the others with no common space. Escape is impossible and
will only result in death, is that understood?”
Daniel nodded once again. The warden finally leaned in close; he had life in his eyes for the first time since Daniel had seen him.
“I know you’re a high profile detainee. But just so we understand each other, I don’t play favorites. I don’t care about your cause. I don’t care if you’re innocent. I won’t allow reporters to interview you. All correspondence will be read. And no one has ever escaped. Welcome to the Hive, Daniel Brickman, enjoy your stay.”
The warden turned on his heel and walked away. Daniel saw through the port hole that the station appeared to be moving. In fact, only the admin office was moving, it could travel up and down and side to side on the large structure of interlocking prisoner cells. It came to Daniel’s and stopped, the doors Daniel stood in front of opened, and he saw what looked like a box. It was four feet wide and four feet tall and eight feet long. Daniel climbed into his cell and felt the queasy sensation of zero gravity. Once he was inside, the door clanged shut, and Daniel saw that there were two small windows in the door. He saw the administration office move away silently.
Floating in the tiny living space felt odd. There was a small locker at one end, a tiny view screen on one wall, what looked like a sleeping bag attached to another wall, and what had to be bathroom facilities, nothing more than hoses really, built into another wall.
Daniel wanted to cry, he couldn’t believe what was happening. He had feared that prison was in his future on Tolligark. He never could have imagined that his own people would lock him away. He thought for a moment about what his lawyer had said. He was the scapegoat the politicians needed, and there was never any escaping that. He was tired, so he pushed himself around to face the sleeping bag and unzipped it. Climbing in, he zipped the bag up, the room wasn’t warm, but wasn’t cold either, just tolerable. He could sense that plain would describe his life from then on, as a sense of inevitability closed in on him. If felt odd to be weightless. He didn’t know if he was upside down or right side up. He could feel his hair standing out in all directions. He was tired and he closed his eyes. Sleep was a welcome escape, the only freedom he had left.
The days in the penal station were dull, to say the least. Three times a day, a small compartment opened with a protein bar. The food was shaped like a brick and had the texture of dried pudding. Flavor was injected into the bars, along with vitamins and minerals, but the taste was weak, like Kool-Aid without enough sugar. On the second day of incarceration, the admin office returned and Daniel was given a steam bath and access to a variety of data chips. The locker at the end of his cell held a data reader and a neuro amplifier that was badly scratched up. The days could be marked by the one hour of access to the video screen. That had become Daniel’s morning, followed shortly afterward by breakfast.
On the third day, Cunningham arrived for a visit. The lawyer smiled as he informed Daniel that a court date had been set.
“It looks like you’ll have your day in court next July,” Cunningham said. “I’m sure they planned that to coincide with election season.”
“What’s the date now?” Daniel asked.
“October 18th,” Cunningham said, the smile on his face wavering. “I’m afraid we don’t have much of a case—”
“We can talk about that later,” Daniel said. “Did you get the information I requested?”
“I did, although I’m not sure it will be satisfying. I’ve got your data chip here,” he handed it Daniel. “The Security Council approved it, so you can keep it. I’ve also got a communications chip here that will allow you to make a ten minute video conference. Just plug it into the vidscreen when it comes on and think of who you want to talk to. These are supposed to be for you to contact me, but you can use it to contact anyone you want. It expires after ten minutes of use, and I can only get you one a month. So use it wisely. I put the file of the name you wanted on your data chip.”
“Thank you, Gregory,” Daniel said.
“Don’t mention it. While I’ve got you in here, do you mind if I ask a personal question?”
Daniel nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Why’d you do it? Why would you destroy the transporter?”
“What did they teach you in school?”
“That you and your followers tried to take over the world,” Cunningham said. “It never really made sense though.”
“That’s because it isn’t true. The Tolligarkians caused the World Plague. That technology was way beyond anything we had developed at the time. Those of us who were immune thought that everyone else had died. When the Tolligarkians made contact, they denied any responsibility for the plague, but when I went to visit their supreme commander, I was contacted by a resistance movement leader and told the truth. I saw what the Federation had done to other worlds, although they blamed it all on the native inhabitants. They were stripping worlds of resources and drafting entire races to build their armies. I promise you, the Tolligarkians are not our friends, and they are coming. They won’t ignore Earth, it’s too valuable.”
“Do you think they’ll attack us?”
“I don’t know, not if they think they might need us for something.”
“That’s wild,” said Cunningham. “To be honest, I’m not sure I believe you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Daniel said, resignation in his voice. “When the Tolligarkians arrive, there’ll be no doubt. The sorry thing is that what we were fighting to keep from happening has happened anyway. The Tolligarkian influence has had its effect.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you ever been to Earth?”
“No,” said Cunningham, chuckling. “You’ve got to have major credits and great connections just to get a visitor’s pass.”
“That’s what I mean. We weren’t meant to live in metal cans floating in space. There’s nothing like walking in the sunshine, feeling the evening breeze, the smell of wildflowers in the air.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Cunningham said, his voice tinged with sadness.
“Yeah, but you should. I’m just sorry that we couldn’t ensure that for you. That’s why I did it. That’s why I gave up everything, and that’s why I came back.”
“I promise I’ll do everything I can to see that you get a fair trial.”
Daniel saw that Cunningham was sincere. He smiled, knowing that there was no real hope that he would ever be free. Truth was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be free if he couldn’t go back home, to live free on the earth.
“Thanks, it’s nice to have a friend again,” Daniel said.
“Check out that data chip. I spoke to the family and they’re expecting your call.”
Daniel assured his lawyer that he would. He was escorted back to his cell, and he spent the evening reading history until he fell asleep. The next morning he awoke excited, put on the scratched neuro amplifer, and waited for his video screen to come to life. When it did, he put his communications chip in and pushed the name Abby Mansfield toward the screen with his mind.
The screen flickered and then an elderly woman appeared. She squinted at the screen and said, “Hello?”
“Hello, Miss Mansfield?” Daniel said.
“Yes.”
“This is Daniel Brickman,” he said, pulling off the neuro amplifier.
“Oh my,” said the woman. “I’ve heard about you on the vidscreen.”
“Yeah, too bad you can’t believe everything you hear on the news, huh?”
“That’s right. I’m always telling my grandkids that very thing, but you know they don’t listen to old folks. They’ve got the universe all figured out.”
Daniel smiled, he felt he understood exactly what she meant.
“Miss Mansfield, I don’t have much time. I was told you are related to Jason McPherson.”
“That’s right, a direct descendant.”
“Did he pass on anything for me? I was told he might have had a letter from a friend, and I was hoping there was still a chance that it might exist.”
“I know the letter you mean,” said the old woman. Daniel’s heart skipped a beat.
Could it be possible? he thought. Could it be true that Lana really had a letter, and that Jason’s family had kept it for over 400 years just in the hopes that Daniel might return?
“Is it…” Daniel couldn’t say the words.
“No, I don’t have it, I’m afraid.” There was genuine sadness in her voice. “We think it was lost during the war.”
Daniel hung his head. His last hope, the last thread of meaning to his life, was lost. He wanted to die more than ever. To just close his eyes and float away. He no longer cared what happened after he died, he just wanted the pain of this life to end. He had given up everything and had gotten nothing in return. Tears filled his eyes, and he almost missed what Abby Mansfield said next.
“But I can tell you the gist of what it said. My grandmother had read it before it was lost, and I remember it like yesterday. It was from a woman with an odd name…”
“Lana,” Daniel said excitedly.
“Yes, that’s it. It talked about what she had done with her life. She made her way to Colorado after she left you, it said. And she opened a small restaurant. She lived in a cabin in the mountains; I’ve always dreamed of visiting the mountains. Anyway, she had a good life. But she got sick, fought cancer through her middle years. She never married, never loved anyone else. She knew what you had done, and she understood why you did it. She sometimes wished that she had stayed, but she knew that if she had, you couldn’t have done what you did. She always had a place for you, always watched and expected to see you walking up her drive. Coming home, the letter said, she always expected that you would come home. There was a note from the general with the letter. It said she died when she was 44 and told where she was buried. But that whole area was preserved by the government before I was even born.”
The New World Page 42