Star Blaze (36 page)

“Indeed I sought sanctuary with one of their ruling powers, but the accused now sitting before you ordered that I be … dissected.” The Phasmeer raised a weedy arm to silence the horrified jury. “The planet is primitive—we must remember
that. It is why it took me so many months to return to my post. Its inhabitants did not comprehend what Johnny Mackintosh demanded of them. While others might not, I forgive them. And as you will discover,” Gronack continued, “there are some brave souls on his homeworld who have opposed him.”

Z'habar Z'habar Estagog maintained its hushed commentary. “What an exclusive. Observe the hate-filled eyes of the watching Terran, wishing it had completed its dastardly plan and the gracious Chancellor was no more.
Too late now, Johnny Mackintosh
.”

“Questions from the defense?” asked the Judge. Both Johnny and Captain Valdour writhed in their chairs, but neither could make a sound. “Very well,” the huge brain went on as the lights from its tank flashed. “I call the next witness—another Terran, I see.”

For a moment, Johnny wondered if Clara had somehow been captured. Then he heard Z'habar Z'habar Estagog at it again, quietly commentating for a faraway audience. “In an early, unexpected twist, a leader from the Terran's home planet steps into the courtroom. Has she arrived to help the traitor wriggle out of his certain guilt?”

Johnny opened his eyes wide with surprise as the suited figure of Colonel Hartman, hunched and frightened, was led into the studio. A Hundra about a meter across floated above her head. The colonel stopped and looked around, as if unable to understand where she found herself. Her normally immaculate hair was sticking out in all directions, globules of orange goo left over from the gel pod she'd been transported in. Her huge, round, disbelieving eyes fell first on Chancellor Gronack and the Regent beside it, then on the brain and, finally, on Johnny himself. As though the sight of him bound and gagged gave her confidence, she appeared to grow a few inches and set off again, clunking more steadily across the studio on her high heels. She reached the steps and climbed into the raised witness box.

“You are Colonel Roberta Hartman of the planet Terra?” asked the Judge, speaking in Universal. The floating Hundra glowed as it translated the question.

“Yes … yes, your Honor,” replied the colonel. “Though we call it Earth.”

“It is a primitive world without formal first contact and not under Imperial jurisdiction?” asked the Judge.

“Some of us, your Honor, have been aware of, and had dealings with extraterrestrials, though I never imagined all this.” Colonel Hartman's gaze swept across the audience.

“That is to be expected,” the Judge replied. “By definition, primitive imaginations are limited.” Colonel Hartman's lips narrowed as the translated words sank in, but she did not respond. The brain continued, “Tell me—is the accused, Johnny Mackintosh, known on your planet?”

“He is, your Honor, known to those of us who try to maintain law and order. It is to my deep regret that I did not cooperate more fully with Chancellor Gronack over his arrest, some months ago.”

Johnny thought that this was a bit of an understatement. It was actually Colonel Hartman who'd ordered the Chancellor to be dissected.

She went on, “My organization has observed the accused's dealings with alien races.”

“Do you know the names of these races?” the Judge asked.

“I believe they are called the Krun …” Colonel Hartman paused as there were murmurings among the audience, “and the Andromedans.”

Uproar broke out in the courtroom. Johnny couldn't believe even Colonel Hartman would sink so low.

“Order … order,” boomed the Judge. Gradually, the chattering aliens hushed each other. Once the studio was silent, the brain continued, “Do you have evidence to corroborate your claims?”

“I do, your Honor,” Colonel Hartman replied, confidently. “This memory chip,” she said holding up a little card in her hand, “contains video of a recent encounter.”

The Judge said, “Approach and deposit this … video.”

The colonel did as she was asked, the echo of her heels on the stone steps reverberating around the expectant courtroom as the Hundra followed, drifting out of reach above her. As she stopped before the Judge, two long gray tentacles slid up the wall of the tank and out. They moved over the top of Colonel Hartman's head, hesitated for a moment and then, surprisingly delicately, plucked something from out of her palm. Holding it between the two sucker-covered limbs as though between thumb and forefinger, the tentacles retracted into the vat. The fluid inside fizzed for a moment.

Johnny came to a decision. However much he hated this woman, if he could he had to warn her about what was happening back home. She might be able to evacuate some people—some of humanity could still survive.

“Interesting,” said the Judge, lighting up the courtroom as it spoke. “Observe …”

Everything went dark and then a large projection appeared for all the court to see. The huge brain cleverly processed the images on the fly so that they appeared three-dimensional. Even so, the pictures were slightly grainy, from a CCTV camera. Johnny recognized the location—the grassy moat surrounding the Tower of London, with Tower Bridge in the background. It was evening. The air shimmered and a black, spherical craft materialized on the lawns in front of the castle walls. It was a Krun shuttle. As a ramp extended onto the grass, Stevens, in human form, accompanied by another suit-wearing Krun, descended, followed by a smaller blond figure in a white tunic top on which were emblazoned the five gold stars of Cassiopeia. There was no doubt it was meant to be Johnny, and was an
excellent likeness. Behind him, with a single bright light shining out of a mask that covered nearly half his face, was Nymac.

The CCTV camera followed their progress as they climbed a set of wide stone steps, before the viewpoint shifted as the foursome made their way through the darkened streets of the City of London and its mixture of old and new buildings. The more he thought about it, Johnny realized he shouldn't be surprised. Colonel Hartman would probably go to any lengths to ingratiate herself with these new, more powerful aliens she had recently encountered. He knew she'd had some dealings with the Krun too—that much was obvious from New York. Presumably Chancellor Gronack or the Regent itself had promised her and her Corporation even greater rewards—perhaps the ship she coveted. Even now, it might be the means by which some of humanity could escape the supernova.

The four were now around the corner from the London Gherkin—or the
Spirit of London
depending if Sol had been on Earth during the filming. Nymac was talking to the Johnny lookalike, who nodded as though he understood. A reassuring hand from Stevens was placed on the blond boy's shoulder and the camera followed the lone figure in his white top as he turned the corner and strode across the small square, and into the beautiful curved glass and metal building at its center.

“For the benefit of the court,” said the Judge, “I have analyzed this primitive footage.” The projection reverted to the original scene of the four figures descending the ramp from the small Krun ship. “While the craft is undoubtedly of Krun design, the final figure following the accused is believed to be none other than General Nymac himself.”

Horrified gasps and more shouts of “No!” came from the amazed audience.

“Does the defense wish to cross-examine the witness?” asked the Judge.

Johnny struggled against his bonds, but a familiar voice from behind him shouted, “It most certainly does.” Into view, by way of a blur of fast-moving arms and legs that stopped instantly, right in front of the huge brain, came Alf. Colonel Hartman had jumped out of the way and now lay spreadeagled on the studio floor.

Z'habar Z'habar Estagog was already buzzing just above Alf's head. “We promised you drama, but here's a twist no one anticipated. A robot has burst, unopposed into the courtroom, claiming to represent the defendants—
like any sentient being would want the job.
Another exclusive story brought to you by Z'habar
Z'habar
Estagog on the Milky Way News Network.”

“Who might you be?” asked the Judge, as the armor-clad soldiers exchanged glances, wondering if they should intervene.

“My name, your Honor, is Alf. I am an artificial lifeform who has previously served as a member of the household of His Majesty Bram Khari himself.”

“Objection!” squeaked a figure to the side of the audience. Chancellor Gronack stood, adding, “Surely it demeans the court to have a robot involved in these proceedings. Only independent lifeforms are considered acceptable witnesses and, presumably, court officials.”

“Objection … overruled,” said the Judge. Johnny smiled underneath his metal gag. It was the first thing all day that had gone right. “By Imperial decree I understand the android Alf has been declared fully sentient and a Citizen of Melania.”

“Thank you, your Honor,” said Alf as he straightened his bowler hat. “May I first request a recess so I can communicate with the defendants?”

“Objection!” squeaked Chancellor Gronack again. “Once the proceedings have begun, they cannot be interrupted for these stalling tactics at the whim of the defense—the guilt of the accused is clear.”

“The case rests on a knife edge as the Judge ponders a dramatic request from defense counsel.” Z'habar Z'habar Estagog was hovering close to Johnny's chair. “
Which way will our wise court arbiter decide?
Find out after more special messages from our sponsors.”

“Objection …” began the Judge. There was an agonizing pause as Johnny's eyes flickered between the brain in the vat, Captain Valdour and Alf. Finally, after pondering for at least a minute, the Judge added, “Overruled. Court will recess for ten minutes only. Escort the defendants and their counsel to an antechamber.”

Johnny and Captain Valdour's chairs floated a few centimeters above the floor, as the pair, accompanied by armed guards either side, followed Alf through the side doorway, along a short corridor and into a tiny room beside the main studio. It might as well have been a large wardrobe. The walls and ceiling were hung with several sets of blue body armor matching those of the security guards while, through a small window, a public square was visible, dotted with strange black domes.

Johnny's metal gag finally retracted, though all the other bands remained in place. The soldiers brushed the hanging clothes away to point their blasters at him and Valdour, as though either prisoner might spit deadly poison in a bid to make their escape. Johnny wished it were possible.

“Oh, Master Johnny,” said Alf. “If only you had waited for me, none of this would have happened.”

“Alf—we were in a hurry. I was set up.”

“But why would anyone want to do a thing like that?” asked the puzzled android.

It was Captain Valdour who replied. “I believe the Regent is moving against the Emperor,” he snarled. “Killing Johnny will
be a way of establishing its authority.”

Even with the extra gravity of Melania, hearing the words spoken out loud made Johnny's stomach weigh at least a hundred times more than normal. He thought he might be sick.

“No one is going to be killed,” said Alf quickly. “I am well versed in Melanian and Imperial law and there are plenty of avenues we can try.”

“Get Gronack back on the stand,” said Johnny. “That was all lies.”

“I regret, Master Johnny, that Chancellor Gronack's evidence is set in the court record. It was not challenged at the time, so cannot be contested now.” Alf looked up from his feet to meet Johnny's furious eyes and added, “But there are many more things we can do. I am transmitting the latest footage to Kovac so we can demonstrate it was faked.”

“The most important thing,” said Captain Valdour, “is to get word to the Emperor. Can your ship take off without you?”

Johnny nodded. He hated the thought of Clara and Sol leaving now, but knew it might be the only way.

“Come closer, Alf,” said the captain. “Send these coordinates to the
Spirit of London
.”

As the android leaned forward so his ear was beside Valdour's scarred face, the guards trained their blasters on the pair, but Alf quickly stepped away and said, “It is done. Though I do hope Miss Clara will return soon.”

Johnny butted in. “Tell her, if she can't find Bram in the next twelve hours, she must get home. Evacuate as many people as she can.”

“Both Sol and Miss Clara say they are not leaving without you,” the android replied.

“Tell them it's an order,” said Johnny.

A clear chime sounded and one of the guards said, “Time's up.”

“I have not finished,” said Alf, but he was powerless to do anything as the chairs holding Johnny and Captain Valdour immobile lifted off the ground and propelled their captives out of the antechamber and along the short corridor toward the courtroom. The android had no choice but to follow.