- 9 -
Tension chained knots of muscle across Third WatchMaster’s shoulder and up the back of his neck. He lusted after another relaxant, dared not indulge. Another would turn him goofy.
It was the intimidating judicial formality of Hall of Decision. He hoped the inquestors would discover no reason to interrogate him.
Hall of Decision had been opened for the first time in decades. The Deified had come down from their screens and donned hologramatic guises.
Third WatchMaster shared the witness dock with the krekelen (wrung dry by I and I and passive as a potato), the soldier who had captured the beast, her battalion commander, several citizens of Cholot Varagona DownTown, Chief Timmerbach, Magnahs, and Director Otten. Facing them on a lone elevated throne was the avatar of the Deified Kole Marmigus, nominal master of VII Gemina. True power resided in the Dictats, enthroned at either side of Marmigus at a lower elevation. Marmigus’s main function was to oversee the annual election of the pair who commanded the Guardship.
Significantly, one Dictat’s throne was empty. Hanaver Strate had chosen to sit as WarAvocat, centering the rank of three thrones below those of the Dictats. He was unwilling to maintain a Dictat’s objectivity.
Banks of thrones to the sides of the Hall were occupied by the Deified. This was the first Third WatchMaster had seen them all together.
So many! Hundreds upon hundreds.... But three millennia was time enough for countless deifications.
Third’s gaze crossed that of the soldier who had captured the krekelen. She was tense and bewildered, out of her depth.
The ceremonials in honor of the tutelary ended. The Deified Kole Marmigus rose. “That’s the folderol out of the way. Let’s dispose of the cut and dried so we can get to the entertaining part.”
Third WatchMaster was astonished. Marmigus alive had had a reputation for informality and irreverence, but in a formal inquiry dignity was mandatory.
“Up first, disposition of the krekelen. There is no ambiguity in the law. The damned things were judged useless. The only thing we can do is kill it. But WarAvocat has petitioned for a stay. He may be able to use it against those who loosed it. Anybody object? No? WarAvocat, you’ve got your pet.”
Hanaver Strate was playing a strong hand these days, getting elected Dictat while he was still alive, getting this without demur from the contentious Deified.
“Next item. Disposition of the Cholot Traveler Glorious Spent. I and I and STASIS can’t fabricate a case for detaining the vessel. Its Chief has asked that the quarantine be lifted.”
Third WatchMaster snapped to attention, clicked his heels, shot a fist into the air.
“Commander Haget?” WarAvocat offered the recognition.
“Deified sirs. Stipulating that nothing concrete has been established, nevertheless I wish to insist that there is something very wrong aboard the Traveler.”
Timmerbach cursed.
WarAvocat beamed down at Third WatchMaster.
Intuition had done him right.
Others looked at him like he was a treacherous shill for WarCrew.
Strate asked, “What disturbs you, Commander? The aliens?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Isn’t their documentation in order?”
“It’s impeccable, what there is of it. But it’s awfully thin.”
“Exactly! Thank you, Commander.” WarAvocat continued, but Third WatchMaster could not hear him. A pillow of silence had fallen upon the witness dock.
Timmerbach continued grumbling against fate in general and no one in particular.
WarAvocat appeared to be making an impassioned statement against resistance from the Deified. That made no sense. Arguments could be battled out in the electronic realm in picoseconds.
The truth struck him as a pair of shipboard security types entered the silence to fetter the krekelen. WarAvocat and Deified, krekelen and witnesses, all were part of a dramatization for slower biological minds. If any crew were watching.
“Sir?”
“Yes?” A sinking feeling. More security types had appeared.
“WarAvocat would like you to join him in his quarters. Will you accompany us, please?”
Third WatchMaster turned, marched, mind numb.