Interstellar travel -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space colonies -- Fiction
While the clerk was reading the orders and indictment, the judge’s stare
never wavered. And when the clerk had finished, the judge’s silent stare
remained, for a long, terrible time.
In the quietest of voices, the judge said, “So.”
Ross caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye. He turned
just in time to see Bernie, knees buckling, slip white-faced and
unconscious to the floor. The guards rushed forward, but the judge
raised a peremptory hand. “Leave him alone,” she ordered soberly. “It is
kinder. Defendants, you are charged with the gravest of crimes. Have you
anything to say before sentence is passed on you?”
Ross tried to force words—any words, to protest, to plead, to
vilify—through his clogged throat. All he managed was a croaking sound;
and Helena, by his side, nudged him sharply to silence. He turned to her
sharply, and realized that this was the best chance he’d be likely to
get. He clutched at her, rolled up his eyes, slumped to the floor in as
close an imitation of Bernie’s swoon as he could manage.
The judge was visibly annoyed, and this time she didn’t stop the
attendants when they rushed in to kick him erect. But he had the
consolation of seeing a flash of understanding cross Helena’s face, and
her hand dart to a pocket with the paper he had handed her. In the
confusion no one saw.
The rest of the courtroom scene was kaleidoscopic in Ross’s
recollection. The only part he remembered clearly was the judge’s voice
as she said to him and Bernie, “——for the rest of your lives, as long as
Almighty God shall, in Her infinite wisdom, permit you the breath of
life, be banished from Azor and all of its allied worlds to the prison
hulk in ‘Orbit Minerva.’”
And they were hustled out as the judge, even more wrathful than before,
turned to pronounce sentence on Helena.
..... 9
THE guard spat disgustedly. “Fine lot of wrecks we’re getting,” she
complained. “Not like the old days. They used to send real men here.”
She glowered at Ross and Bernie, holding their commitment papers loosely
in her hand. “And for treason, too!” she added. “Used to be it took guts
to commit a crime against the state.” She shook her head, then made a
noise of distaste and scribbled initials on the commitment papers. She
handed them back to the pilot who had brought them up from Azor, who
grinned, waved, and got out of there. “All right,” said the guard, “we
have to take what we get. I’ll have to put you two on construction;
you’ll never stand up under hard work. Keep your noses clean, that’s
all. Up at 0500; breakfast till 0510; work detail till 1950; dinner and
recreation till 2005; then lights out. Miss a formation and you miss a
meal. Miss two, and you get punishment detail. Nobody misses three.”
Ross and Bernie found themselves sharing a communal cell. They had all
of five minutes to look around and get oriented; then they were out on
their first work detail.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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