by Scott Innes
‘Come on, you!’ cried Guard One, whacking me painfully across the back of both knees with a truncheon. I sagged to the ground with a shriek of pain.
‘Stop!’ came a voice I knew. ‘Stop hurting him! Let him go.’
I looked up at Gillian gratefully – she was on her feet behind the bench, looking at the guards with fury in her eyes. They didn’t release me immediately – they glanced up at General Leigh, who met Gillian’s gaze for a moment and then nodded wearily. Instantly, the guards stepped away from me and marched from the room, closing the door with an echoing boom behind them. Grimacing, and with stars exploding before my eyes, I hauled myself to my feet (and hastily straightened my tie yet again to conceal the shirt stain).
‘You have to hear me out,’ I said. ‘He deserves someone on his side when the whole Compound is against him.’
‘Mr Keegan,’ Laika said, ‘I’m sorry to say that you’re too late. We’ve heard all the statements and listened to all the evidence. Sadly, it did not take long, such was the weight of it. The matter is settled. When you burst in so… enthusiastically just now, you interrupted the Council in the process of delivering its verdict. Please take a seat so that we may continue with our vital business.’
‘But…’ I tried, but I could see it was no use. I looked across at Barrington12, who lowered his head and said nothing. I had failed him when he had needed me the most. Now, I could only hope against hope that the Council might show clemency.
‘I will now ask each of the five Council members to announce their decision in turn,’ Laika said as I took a seat on the front row of the public gallery, squeezing in next to an elderly couple who were sitting with a picnic hamper on the seat beside them, tucking into egg salad sandwiches and apparently having a lovely day out. ‘Once the verdict has been recorded, I will then pass sentence. Barrington12, will you please stand?’
‘THANK YOU, LAIKA, BUT I AM ALREADY IN A STANDING POSITION AND HAVE BEEN FOR THE DURATION OF THIS TRIAL,’ Barrington12 replied, lifting his head, his small blue LED eyes twinkling slowly and sadly.
‘Oh,’ Laika said. ‘We did provide a seat for you.’
‘I ACKNOWLEDGE THE PROVISION OF A SEAT,’ he said, ‘BUT MY OWN SHAME IS SUCH THAT I FEEL ANY SMALL, SELF-APPLIED DISCOMFORT IS THE VERY LEAST I DESERVE.’
I felt a mixture of emotions – that Barrington12 could feel and express a sense of shame was, frankly, extraordinary, but at the same time he was doing himself no favours at all by copping to his own guilt before a verdict had even been announced. It was true that he had already all-but-admitted to the charge, but as per Alliance procedure in the event of a crime committed by any non-sentient (where a defendant’s own judgement and culpability could not be relied upon), a five-way verdict had still to be delivered and a suitable punishment imposed. Any hope of a reprieve felt remote now. I dabbed at my eyes with the back of my hand as I felt the sudden prickle of tears.
‘Council member McNab, may the court have your verdict?’ Laika asked, staring straight ahead impassively.
‘We must protect the futures of the children in this Compound,’ Doreen said, even slamming a fist down onto the bench in front of her for good measure. ‘Guilty. 100%.’
Not a great start.
‘Council member Routledge, may the court have your verdict?’
I met Gillian’s eyes and she seemed almost to wipe away a tear of her own. She cleared her throat to compose herself and then made me feel proud once again to know her.
‘I do not deny that technically speaking, what happened did happen. But if this court had seen what I’d seen…’ Gillian said. ‘Not guilty, my lady.’
A murmured throb went around the court at this unexpected lifeline, which Laika soon silenced with an angry bark and a whack of the gavel. My heart was racing and not just because the old man next to me had slopped some scalding hot tea from his flask onto my upper thigh.
‘Council member Pebble-Mill, may the court have your verdict?’
The doctor leaned forward in his seat and rubbed his forehead.
‘As much as it pains me, not least because there aren’t many 12-series models like this one still functioning, I can only speak to the facts presented in this case. Guilty, my lady.’
A bloody shame, but I couldn’t really fault the doc. He didn’t know any better. How was he to know that this machine had somehow discovered things within himself that his manufacturers could scarcely have imagined possible?
‘Council member Bowes-Davies,’ Laika said, ‘may the court have your verdict?’
Sir Michael leaned forward in his red velvet suit beneath his robes and adjusted the carnation in his front pocket. His greased, silver hair flopped forward foppishly over his forehead.
‘I’ve never known of a crime so despicable as this in all my long years,’ he said in his rich, oaky voice. ‘The accused has brought shame upon this Compound. This man, Khan, has caused nothing but trouble for the Federation, slaughtering innocents and using vile mind-control techniques – for shame!’
Another wave of whispers in the court, this time mingled with bafflement. Again, Laika silenced them all.
‘Sir Michael, that is the plot of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan,’ she explained patiently. The other Council members were variously shaking their heads or rolling their eyes in disdain. ‘Today we are dealing with the case of a robot accused of spying for the L’zuhl.’
‘Ah!’ Sir Michael said animatedly. ‘Of course! Yes, well, that sounds a fairly trivial matter all things considered, so let’s say not guilty and get some lunch, shall we?’
It was all I could do not to leap up and punch the air – the doddery old fool had no clue where he was or what was going on but if it helped see justice served (or at least my own preferred outcome, which is essentially the same thing) then it was all well and good. With only slight hesitation, Laika noted his verdict in her ledger. Just as I began to wonder, to dream, to hope, I remembered who the final Council member was and sank back in my seat.
‘Council member Leigh, may the court have your verdict?’
The General watched the shabby figure of Barrington12 intently and then, whether through accident or design, looked briefly in my direction. I implored him with my eyes for the split-second I held him. Would it be enough? He had seen Barrington12 fight alongside us on the outpost; he knew, surely, that there was more to this story than a good robot gone bad. Didn’t he?
He didn’t.
‘Guilty,’ Leigh said. ‘I find the machine guilty, my lady.’
That was that. Perhaps it was the injustice being served or the impersonal way Leigh had referred to Barrington12 but suddenly I found myself on my feet and approaching the bench again.
‘It’s not right,’ I insisted, my eyes only on Laika. ‘It’s not fair! Look at him – the poor sod had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t mean for any of this; to all intents and purposes he’d been brainwashed – you can’t blame him for what happened!’
‘Sit down, Kevin,’ Laika said, firmly though not angrily. ‘This court has made its decision. I respect the passion of your view and I understand your loyalty to your robot, but I’m afraid—’
‘See, you did it as well,’ I interrupted, exasperated. ‘“My robot” you called him. And technically that’s true. But he’s more than that. He’s my friend.’
‘Yes, well, your friend has just been found guilty of crimes against mankind, so sit down and stop embarrassing yourself,’ Leigh snapped from the end bench. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction.
‘Crimes against mankind,’ I repeated, looking down at the tiled floor and shaking my head. ‘A guy has to know when he’s beaten. So with that in mind, while I strongly disagree with the decision made here today, I will accept it. But let me just say this one last thing. You talk about this situation like it’s them and us. It’s not. That boy over there, that “robot”… he’s shown more humanity than any bugger in this room. He has displayed loyalty. Friendshi
p. Guilt, shame, humility, you name it. The kid’s been accused of something he had no control over and yet not once has he tried to duck responsibility for it. That has to mean something. It certainly does to me. It’s a terrible thing you’ve done today. I hope you’ll remember that.’
The room was completely silent as I returned to my seat. The old man next to me offered me a sausage roll from their hamper, which to be honest I accepted as my blood sugar was through the floor.
‘In spite of Mr Keegan’s committed intervention,’ Laika said formally, ‘for a crime of this magnitude I have no choice but to abide by the statutes of the Alliance. Barrington12, for the crime of espionage, I sentence you to be dismantled and scrapped. So be it.’
She barked to order the court to its feet but I stayed seated. Laika stared at me but I saw no reproach in her wide brown eyes. She looked genuinely saddened by the decision she had been forced to make. The sentence had been inevitable since the verdict came in, I’d known that. But looking at the poor sod standing alone, head bowed, was more than I could bear. I briefly entertained a mental image of vaulting over the bench, punching Leigh’s lights out, smashing a chair through the window and then fleeing to the shuttle bays with Barrington12’s clanking metal hand in mine to make our escape but I knew it was nothing more than the dream of a fool – especially with my back.
It was as I was sitting there glumly, with Laika making her closing remarks, that I realised how dark it had suddenly become in the courtroom. I glanced at my watch – it may have felt like an eternity but it was still only the early afternoon. Outside, it looked more like dusk. I barely had time to process this fact when there came a mechanical, rumbling roar from outside in the square, a bowel-quakingly ominous sound.
‘What on earth is that?’ Gillian asked, craning to get a view out of the window from her seat behind the bench.
‘It’s nothing,’ Leigh muttered irritably. ‘It’s only thunder.’
This seemed to calm some of the disquiet in the room but I was far from convinced. I still had the sage words of Stevie Nicks from earlier that day rolling around in my head and so I knew better. I stood up.
‘It can’t be,’ I said. ‘Thunder only happens when it’s raining. This… is something else.’
No sooner had these words left my lips than the window exploded and the screams began.
THE BATTLE OF PALANGONIA
It was chaos unlike anything I had ever witnessed – and I very much include my disastrous final match in charge of England in that, by the way. The Compound was under attack – a heavy, sustained, violent assault – and not one of us had been prepared for it. After the destruction of the Makazka at Acbaelion Outpost XXI we should have all been ready and waiting for the inevitable retribution to follow. And who knows, perhaps Leigh’s forces within Fort Emmeline had been rehearsing and training each day since our return for just such an eventuality. If so, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. We were overrun – and quickly.
Inside the courtroom, I stood rooted to the spot. Around me, panic reigned – people in the public gallery fled their seats, clamouring for the closed doors, desperately trying to push them open even though they only gave way inwards. Outside, above the din from the square coming through the blasted window, I could hear the two guards frantically urging the escaping horde to stand back and allow the two of them to push open the door from outside but it was all for naught – no one thinks rationally in a moment of extreme stress. You ask Eric Cantona – I remember the time he suddenly remembered he’d left his oven on during a match and immediately lost the plot, kung-fu kicking some bloke in the crowd. Look, it happens.
I hurried over to Barrington12 who had stepped away from his podium and was ambling over to the window curiously.
‘Not that way, son!’ I said, dashing after him and grabbing his thin, cold arm. ‘We need to get to safety. If it even exists.’
I took the opportunity to steal a glance through the battered window frame and glimpsed complete carnage beyond. The blood-red sky was pitted with L’zuhl warships and shuttles, some small enough to look like distant birds, others hulking great monstrosities blocking the light from Palangonia’s twin suns. On the ground, L’zuhl soldiers swarmed, pouring into the streets like water from an overflowing drain, shooting dirty green blasts from their laser rifles at anything that moved. There were bodies scattered in the streets. Our streets. Our home.
‘Kevin!’
I whirled around in a dazed circle at the sound of the urgent whisper behind me and then realised it was coming from the now-empty judge’s bench. Gillian was crouched down behind it, peeking around the corner and gesturing to me frantically. With Barrington12 in tow, I hurried to join her.
‘What are we going to do?’ I asked. ‘We’re done for if we stay in here!’
At that moment, the mass of people clamouring at the entrance finally worked out the puzzle and fanned out, allowing the heavy doors to be swung open. The group then promptly poured from the room like sand from an egg timer.
‘Come on,’ I urged Gillian, ‘let’s get gone!’
‘No!’ she pulled me back by my collar. ‘Not that way. The Council building faces directly out onto the courtyard. We’d be slaughtered. There’s another way.’
‘If that’s the case then what about everyone else—’ I turned to the doors leading into the near-empty and eerily silent courtroom but there was no one left, save the two pensioners with their picnic. They were leaning over the basket and embracing each other as though preparing for the impending crash of a tidal wave. A choking sound erupted from my throat at the sight of them.
‘There’s no time,’ Gillian insisted. ‘They’re all toast and we will be too if we don’t get out of here. Come – there’s a tunnel.’
My legs trembling, I followed her through a small doorway that had been opened in the wall behind the bench; Barrington12 had to stoop low to squeeze through. Inside was an antechamber with a large square hole cut in the floor. Beside it was an upturned marble tile. I just glimpsed Doreen McNab drop down into the darkness and Sir Michael readying himself to follow. He stopped before he vanished and looked at the grave faces around him – General Leigh, Dr Pebble-Mill, Laika, Gillian, Barrington12 and me.
‘Rum old business,’ Sir Michael said, shaking his head sadly. Then he was gone.
‘You next, doc,’ Leigh said. ‘Time’s against us.’
‘Are we really going to do this?’ Dr Pebble-Mill asked, his face a contortion of indecision. ‘Flee, I mean? I have… I’ve a duty of care. To all the citizens of this Compound.’
Leigh grabbed him by both shoulders and forced him down towards the hole until he was sitting with his legs dangling into the black. Below, I could hear the patter of footsteps as Doreen and Sir Michael hurried away.
‘Sod your Hippocratic oath, man!’ Leigh hissed. ‘It’s World War III out there!’
I briefly considered suggesting that the invasion of Earth would technically have been World War III and that this, if it even qualified, would be World War IV, but I bit my tongue. Leigh would only go off on one at me, as per.
Dr Pebble-Mill went reluctantly, then Laika and Gillian.
‘Friends in high places, Keegan, letting you use this escape route,’ Leigh said, but there was no bitterness in his voice this time. Only a tired, weary regret. He regarded Barrington12 coldly. ‘This tunnel leads directly to the shuttle bays. Assuming the L’zuhl haven’t destroyed them as their first move, which they will have if they’re smart, you can all make a break for it. Go to the Alliance headquarters at The Oracle, try to regroup. Laika will see to it that your friend here is scrapped either way, even if you manage to get out of here alive, so don’t get your hopes up. Justice must be served. He brought all of this down upon our heads.’
‘Oh, that’s nonsense and you know it!’ I said. ‘They’re here because of what happened on the outpost. We destroyed the greatest ship in their fleet and killed their greatest warrior. Well… Gerry did, anyway.’<
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Leigh looked away. He knew it was true.
‘There’ll be plenty of time to argue later,’ I added, readying myself to drop. ‘God, what a mess. Such a bloody shame.’
I sensed movement from the corner of my eye and hesitated before sliding into the tunnel. Leigh was at the doorway that led into the courtroom from whence we had come. He looked back at me for a second and then adjusted the beret atop his head.
‘For Earth,’ he said, and was gone.
As promised, the tunnel emerged directly beneath the shuttle bays, beside one of the control towers. The journey took barely five minutes but with little room to manoeuvre in the dank darkness, it felt far longer. Even crouching low, Barrington12’s head scraped against the rough stone ceiling the whole way, the brittle sound harsh enough to make my eyes water.
When I clambered up to ground level, breathing in great gulps of fresh air (albeit scented with dust and what might have been the stench of burning flesh), Doreen and Sir Michael were nowhere to be seen, doubtless having already made their own bids for freedom. I hoped they would make it. Gillian was nearby, standing beside a small shuttle, Laika already in the cockpit.
‘Kevin, come on! It’s our only chance!’
I looked around. Smoke rose from beyond the shuttle bay and the air was filled with anguished cries, small explosions and a few larger ones as well as the guttural snarl of the L’zuhl as they laid merciless waste to all before them. Dr Pebble-Mill was a distant figure, running away from the shuttle bays back towards the carnage at full pelt, unable in the end to turn his back on those in need. I loved the man in that moment. Perhaps it was this that made up my mind, coupled with having already witnessed Leigh’s own display of loyalty to the Compound he served, but I knew then what I had to do. I couldn’t leave them behind – not Gerry, not my players. I would never have been able to face myself in the mirror ever again.
‘Kevin, please!’ Gillian cried from her position halfway up the lowered docking platform of the shuttle as Laika fired up the thrusters. ‘It’s now or never!’