Cat and Company (22 page)

As soon as the population grew too large to make direct voting unwieldy, the system broke down. They had reached that point two days ago, which was why they were all hurrying across the city to Celestial.

There had been a murder.

It was Charlton’s first murder and it was a chilling statistic. The murderer, Farago, was in custody. The man Farago had killed had been stealing food vouchers and Farago’s defense was belligerent and centered on a right to self-defense and preservation of food. Farago hadn’t denied killing the thief at all.

The mood of the refugees camped on the streets and corridors of the city matched Farago’s. All they had were the clothes they wore and the few possessions they had been able to carry with them, which made those possessions all the more valuable to them.

The question of what to do with Farago was compounded by the sympathy the killer was getting from the refugees and the outrage the permanent residents of Charlton were feeling over the breaking of the peace that had made the city such a pleasant place to live in for nearly a century.

If Brant had still been an active Ammonite enforcer, the answer would have been easy. Execution had always been the response to murder on the worlds the Ammonite had controlled. If the response to murder was not swift and unequivocal, it would not keep the citizens submissive.

Yet, this was not an Ammonite world and Brant was no longer the man who had become an Ammonite to further Glave’s precepts.

“Yennifer is meeting us there?” Brant asked. A logical, unemotional voice would be useful.

“She’s witnessing the process. We can’t talk to her,” Lilly warned.

“Is Devlin back yet?” Even having Devlin around would be useful. He wasn’t unemotional, but he always acted like oil on water among a crowd.

“Three hours ago. They’re all sleeping. I won’t wake anyone if I can help it.”

“Bedivere? Connell?”

“I don’t know,” Lilly said. “This Farago thing has taken up all my attention for the last few hours. I haven’t had a chance to check and Yennifer wasn’t there to ask.”

“Connell Yair docked forty minutes ago,” Zoey said helpfully.

“And Bedivere?” Brant repeated.

“There is no record of his arrival yet,” Zoey said. She flickered as they crossed the threshold into Celestial itself and the projectors switched servers. “If he intended to destroy the Sunita gates, then it would take him several hours to reach them even at the
Aliza’s
maximum speed.”

“He can’t just jump there?” Brant asked.

“I don’t believe Interspace is useful over very short distances,” Zoey replied.

“Connell told me it’s like trying to physically jump from where you’re standing to a spot two centimeters in front of your toes. There’s a good chance you’re going to jump right past the location, because it’s just too close,” Lilly said.

Brant sighed. “Zoey, tell me the second he lands, okay?”

“I will.”

They hurried onward. Celestial was on the dark side of the city right now, which was where it had been located for decades before the city had acquired a daily rotation. Celestial had been designed to take advantage of the darkness.

The big single dome that covered the entire village gave everyone a view of the star field no matter where they were in the village. The paths and passages that wound between the buildings were lit by street lamps that edged the walkways, shedding a soft yellow glow. Generally, the lighting in Celestial was kept around the same level as twilight on a dirtball, which gave the village a lovely, peaceful feeling.

It really was one of the more pleasant villages in the city. Gantry, by contrast, was a business district from where most of the transport and dock support services operated. There were stiffly-angled, unadorned office buildings surrounding their square. On the edges of the village were the residences of business owners and employees who chose to live there as well. It was a well-monied village that ran short on aesthetics, unlike Celestial, which prided itself on its beauty.

Although even Celestial was looking ill-used right now. The light levels had been increased to allow people to see clearly. There were refugees from Varnham sitting and lying everywhere, on the open floor and with their backs against the buildings. They had done their best to stake out quarters by spreading the bedding they had been given, but there was no privacy and very little room.

“Glave save us…this is just awful,” Brant said in an undertone.

“They’re alive and if they’re alive, they can regroup and go on,” Lilly told him. “New homes will be found for them on other worlds.”

“The Varkan are going to be busy for a good long while yet, I’m thinking,” Brant observed dryly.

“They have to evacuate the rest of the Sunita system first,” Lilly pointed out. “It’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

“Then we’d better get this sorted out quickly.”

They stepped carefully over and around the pads. Everyone sitting and lying on their bed watched them go past with sharp, suspicious gazes. It wasn’t good that they must be on guard in that way. No one in Charlton had ever needed to actively guard their possessions…until now.

They reached the big open area that was the middle of the village, which had been brightly lit. Celestial was like many other villages and Charlton itself. Decision-making processes over the running of the village took place in public spaces where everyone could witness and weigh in on the matter if they chose to.

Nichol August was standing in a very small clear space in the main square, with the person Brant had to assume was Farago, because everyone camped on the outer edges of the square was watching the pair of them very closely.

Brant got his first shock. Farago was a woman. She was taller than Nichol, slender…and very young. Younger than most women preferred to keep their cosmetic age, which was usually plenty young enough for Brant’s tastes. Had she even reached an age where she needed rejuvenation therapy, yet?

Unease touched him. The Ammonite way of executing a transgressor would be impossible here. How could they execute a woman? Death for women was a permanent death. They couldn’t regenerate like men did. The process just didn’t work for them, with their double-y chromosomes.

There were other reeves and mayors standing in a loose circle around Farago. Brant knew them all. He also knew that they were here only because of the unique circumstances. No one had needed to deal with a murder before. The mayors and reeves would want to see how this was handled in case they were faced with the same issues. As every single village in Charlton was filled to the brim with refugees, it was entirely possible they would.

Yennifer stood on the outside of the circle. She was turning her head to watch whoever was speaking, but she was not trying to become involved in the conversation. It was very clear she was in witness mode, for her face was immobile and blank, her gaze merely recording everything that occurred.

Around the small group in the middle of the cleared space were more people. They were strangers and their clothing was rumpled and dirty. Possibly, friends of the victim or just concerned refugees.

Everyone who had a stake in Farago’s fate was arranged around Farago and as Lilly and Brant moved through the narrow trail to the center of the square, every head turned to track their progress. There were even more people packed into the square, far more tightly than they had been in the passages and paths beyond the square, although everyone was sitting on the floor. He suspected that they had pushed into the square to hear for themselves what Farago’s fate was to be.

Zoey had disappeared. Either the projectors didn’t work here, or Yennifer had told her to withdraw.

“This could be bad,” Lilly murmured as they trod carefully along the narrow path of cleared floor.

Brant didn’t answer. There were too many strangers sitting too close to them for him to speak aloud. He agreed with Lilly, though. This situation had the potential of becoming a nightmare. He already knew it was a turning point. How Charlton handled this first murder would lay precedents for the future, shaping penal policies and civil peace and order.

If they got this wrong, then the refugees who currently outnumbered the permanent citizens may rise up against them in protest.

Already, the tension in the air, the sense of expectancy, was high.

Nichol August raised his arms as Brant and Lilly stepped into the loose circle, but there was no crowd noises to die down at his command. They were already silent. Waiting.

Lilly nodded at Nichol, telling him silently to proceed.

Brant studied Farago. She looked just as young up close as she had from a distance. Her chin was up, her black eyes staring defiantly ahead, not meeting anyone’s gaze directly. Her face was pale, though and her hands were clenched at her sides. At least she had the sense to be afraid.

“Amelia Farago has admitted to killing another human,” Nichol said, lifting his voice so it would be heard across the square. Elsewhere in the city, everyone would be watching the city feed that one of Yennifer’s AIs controlled. Brant had no illusions that anyone was watching for entertainment, or that anyone would
not
be watching.

“Shelton Sarkozi died a permanent death as a result of her crime,” Nichol added, “for the only mule farm he had access to was destroyed when the Periglus used their terraforming weapon on Varnham.”

Brant sighed. He hadn’t known that. It was another factor, another degree of tension.

“The reason Farago gives for killing Sarkozi is that she caught him stealing her food vouchers, the last she had left for the day. Stealing is also a crime here on Charlton. We consider the property of others to be inviolable, to be treated with respect and consideration at all times, yet theft is not as great a crime as murder, which is why we meet here now to decide how to proceed.” He let his arms drop and faced Farago. “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

Farago looked at everyone assembled in the circle. Then she lifted her voice so it would be heard, too. “I am pregnant. I must have food. He was taking the last of mine, threatening the life of my child.”

Surprise rippled across the square, followed swiftly by a concerned muttering. Even Brant had trouble hiding his reaction. The life of a child was precious. Glave’s teachings were clear on that. Children were humanity’s most valuable resource and their birth and raising were an adult human’s priority. Even if the Ammonites were being disbanded and their philosophies derided, the basic principles still held sway over every human society. The last remnant of Cadfael College still lingered to take children into their care and raise them to become stable, highly educated and contributing adults.

Lilly was watching him, gauging his reaction. There was sympathy in her eyes. She knew this would bother him more than anyone else in the square.

Brant swallowed. Oh, this was going to be impossible….

Nichol August was staring at Farago, his lips working. He had been just as badly surprised and was casting about for something to say. Already, the normal procedure for the hearing and voting upon a crime had been upset.

Ask for input
, Brant urged him mentally.

Nichol licked his lips. His gaze flickered around the circle.

The other mayors and reeves were shifting on their feet. They understood that Nichol must control the procedure and if he let the observers think for themselves for too long, they would overreact.

Lilly was watching Nichol, as well. She would understand just as clearly, yet she couldn’t take over for him, because that would be a symbolic stripping of village independence in favor of the city overall.

Brant stepped forward and raised his arms, before even he was aware of the decision to act. He turned in a full circle, bringing attention to him.

Nichol scowled.

“Does anyone present wish to speak on this matter before it is voted upon?” he called.

Silence.

Then a man in the corner of the square got to his feet. “I can just say what I think?” he asked. “I don’t have to have seen it happen or anything?”

“If you believe that what you have to say will make a difference to the way the assembly votes, then you are free to speak,” Brant told him. “Although I and everyone here will shut you down if you are using the floor as a podium.”

Nichol’s scowl deepened. Brant had heard that Nichol liked to pontificate when he held the floor, using public moments like this to further his political agenda.

The man glanced around uneasily. “I agree that murder is terrible, no matter the justification, but she is carrying a child. That makes a difference. I just don’t think she should go unpenalized, or everyone will be pulling knives whenever they feel like it. Glave would turn in his grave.”

There was a murmur of agreement and he sat down again.

A woman got to her feet. “Just because she is pregnant doesn’t mean she should get special treatment.”

“Of course she should!” The shout came from the other side of the square. “It’s a
baby
!”

“Stand up and let us see you, if you wish to speak,” Brant yelled. “This is an open debate. Keep it civilized!”

A dozen more people got to their feet and Brant pointed at the nearest, another woman.

“On Varnham, if anyone killed someone, they were executed,” she said. “She knows that as well as we all do. It didn’t stop her, so she must be prepared for the consequences.”

There was a hollow silence as she sat down. That was too much reality for many of them, Brant realized. Ammonite or not, everyone found the idea of destroying a child almost impossible to contemplate.

“We’re not on Varnham anymore,” a man with red hair said. “Things are done differently here. We’re guests, we should be abiding by the rules
here
. Varnham doesn’t exist anymore.”

For the next forty minutes, Brant merely controlled the flow of debate, making sure everyone who wanted to speak was called upon at least once. Once they had started to repeat themselves, though, he raised his arms again. “Everyone, please sit.”

He hesitated. The standard process dictated that now he would call for a vote on whether Farago was guilty of the crime she had been accused of, yet there was no accuser standing and facing her. Also, she had already confessed to the crime.