Buck Rogers 1 - Buck Rogers in the 25th Century (9 page)

The glowing lights on the face of one of the computer-boxes increased in intensity, as a spotlight mounted in the ceiling of the Chamber also shone down upon the computer. The Council had been in long session, but the computers and their drone-servants knew no fatigue. Counsellor Apol presented the summary of the prosecution case in his mechanically grating voice.

“The state’s case is elementary,” Apol grated. “Captain Rogers piloted a foreign aircraft through our defense network on a path that could only have been programmed by a hostile force in possession of secret information available only to this Council and a handful of key military personnel.

“His explanation of this situation, while stopping just short of the physically impossible, is totally lacking in credibility. He has been unable to provide us with a single shred of evidence to prove that he is a son of this planet and not the offspring of some long-forsaken outcasts!

“What price, you may ask, what bounty, would Captain Rogers consider his just reward for selling out the human race and the planet Earth? Only his pirate friends can answer that, but I will offer my fellow Counsellors an educated guess. I suggest that the price of treason is the destruction of Earth’s treaty with Draconia. The pirates seek this at all costs! For its enactment spells doom for them!”

There was a long, dramatic pause, then Apol stated simply, “The prosecution rests its case.”

The ceiling light dimmed over Apol, as the lights on the front of his control panel slowly returned to their normal, semihumanoid form.

Now the light grew in intensity over another computer-box, and the great impersonal voice of the Council said, “Theopolis, we will now hear from the defense.”

For a moment Buck Rogers, silently witnessing the proceeding upon whose outcome his future and his very life hung by a thread, shifted his gaze to the oval window of the Chamber. Through the glass he could see the witnesses of the trial: an array of civil authorities and military dignitaries, and a few interested parties including a grim-faced Wilma Deering and the gray-headed, tall genius Dr. Huer.

Buck’s attention was recaptured by the voice of Dr. Theopolis. “Distinguished colleagues,” the computer said, “you have heard the evidence, and on its strength I challenge you to find Buck Rogers guilty!”

Buck gaped incredulously at Theopolis as he issued the challenge, and at the other ten Counsellors as they received it.

“No evidence,” Theopolis continued, “has been produced to support a claim to Rogers’ birth upon this planet because—as we all know fully well—no records survived the great holocaust. Captain Rogers has no explanation as to how his ship was programmed to maneuver through our defense shield,” he paused dramatically, then resumed, “because,” another momentary pause,
“it . . . was . . . not . . . his . . . doing
!”

There was another pause while Theopolis let his summary of the defense sink into the other ten members of the Computer Council. “Buck Rogers is an innocent pawn in the great war,” Theopolis concluded, “but I go on record as testifying that this man can be one of our truly great leaders. That destiny has placed him here amongst us now, to help deliver us from our enemies.”

With a bitter, ringing irony, Apol countered: “From our enemies, Theopolis? Or
to
our enemies?”

“No,” Theopolis blinked his lights as a human would shake his head. “No, Apol. No, I say to you, to all my colleagues here, that if you find this man guilty, you must find me guilty as well. For I cannot continue to serve a society that doubts the core of my being. I am programmed to be discerning. My sensors tell me that this man is good.”

Now the disembodied voice of the Computer Council spoke again. “Captain Rogers—have you any last words before we pass judgment?”

Buck rose slowly from his seat. He seemed to be speaking to the disembodied voice rather than to Theopolis or Apol or any other of the members of the Council. Through the oval window Wilma and Dr. Huer could be seen inching forward, balancing on the edges of their chairs.

“I’d just like to say this,” Buck began, “I don’t blame you for lining up against me. Someone—or something—is selling you out. I didn’t find my way through your shield. Someone pulled the strings to arrange all of that. But you’d be better off worrying less about me, whatever happens to me personally, and worrying more about whoever or whatever it was that did that string-pulling. I can’t do you any more harm, even if I were guilty of the charges against me. That damage is done. But the one who engineered all of this can still do harm. He can destroy you, in fact!” Buck finished his statement to the Council, looked around the room once more, and resumed his chair.

The lights on Dr. Theopolis’ control panel flashed brightly. “Very nice work, Buck. We don’t have a thing to worry about!”

There was a momentary pause while the eleven computers of the Council were electronically polled as to their verdicts, then the great voice spoke once more. “By unanimous vote, the Council finds for the state. Captain Rogers, you and, your representative, Counsellor Theopolis, are banished from the Inner Cities. You will be removed at once to Anarchia, there to live out your lives as you see fit.

“This Council is adjourned.”

If ever a computer could be said to gasp in astonishment, Dr. Theopolis did so when he heard the verdict of the Council. “I don’t believe it!” his mellow voice sounded completely disconcerted.

On the other side of the oval window of the Council Chamber, bureaucrats and military officers were shaking hands and clapping one another on the back in congratulation at what was obviously a highly popular verdict. Justice was no concern of theirs. They were part of the official
status quo
of the Inner City; the established order of things had been challenged by the very appearance of this unruly man-from-the-past. Now he was to be disposed of, the powers-that-be could return to their usual state of tranquility, and all was rejoicing among the ruling circles.

Only two individuals in the spectators’ room failed to join in the general celebration. One was Colonel Wilma Deering of the Intercept Squadron; the other, Dr. Huer, the sage of the Inner City. Dr. Huer had risen and started for the door at the moment that the verdict was announced. Now he turned back to face the spectators and spoke to one of them.

“Wilma, are you coming, child? We’ve got a lot to do, a lot of preparations to make for the Princess Ardala’s escort down to Earth from orbit.”

Stunned, almost as if sleep-walking, Wilma assented. “Yes, Dr. Huer,” she said, “I—I’m coming, Doctor.”

She tossed a last glance behind her, over one shapely tunicked shoulder. “Funny,” she said, almost to herself, “in a way Buck is just getting what he wanted all along. He just doesn’t understand what’s going to happen to him when he gets there.”

On the other side of the glass, Buck Rogers calmly submitted to the guards who flanked and escorted himself and Twiki—the quad with Dr. Theopolis hung around his neck—from the room.

It was barely a matter of an hour before two lonely forms plodded down the road from the Inner City to the barren and seething land of Anarchia. One was Buck Rogers; the other, Twiki with Dr. Theopolis hung from his neck.

They stopped in the middle of the road, for there was no traffic here to prevent their doing it, and stood, gazing back at the great glowing dome of the Inner City.

“I never thought I’d say this,” Buck muttered, “but that place is starting to look good to me!”

The little quad made one of his infrequent little squawks of distress. Dr. Theopolis, hanging from the drone’s metal neck, glowed softly as he spoke. “I wouldn’t start feeling sorry for myself yet, Twiki. This is nothing compared to what lies ahead of us.”

“Maybe we ought to stay right here until it gets light,” Buck suggested.

“Oh, I’m afraid we’d freeze to death,” Dr. Theopolis said. “That is, you would freeze to death, Buck. But in fact, it wouldn’t be any too good for Twiki’s mechanical fittings or for my own more environmentally sensitive circuits. It’ll be way below zero here long before sunrise starts it to warming up again.”

Buck shrugged, and he and Twiki turned away from the Inner City and began their slow walk along the windblown road.

“Well,” Theopolis philosophized, “I guess we just have to move on, then.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck said. “I did what I believe was right, and for my own sake I’d do it again if I had to. But I’m sorry that I had to take you fellows down with me.”

“No one forced me into your camp,” Theopolis replied. “I did what I did because I believed in you, Buck. And I still do—and
I’d
do it again if I had to, as well!”

Buck thanked the computer.

The drone Twiki made an odd squeaking sound.

“What’d he say?” Buck asked Theopolis.

“You don’t want to know,” the computer replied.

And they kept walking, kept walking, up the windswept road, away from the brilliant domed city, and towards the vague and distant outline of ruin and desolation.

F I V E

Back in the Inner City, in the office of Dr. Huer, to be specific, the old scientist was sitting, disconsolately contemplating the recently completed trial and its tragic verdict. He looked up in surprise as Wilma Deering hurriedly entered and cried out to him, “Doctor, I need your help—desperately!”

“What is it?” Huer asked, startled.

“It’s Buck Rogers.” Wilma was nearly in tears. “We must get him back, Dr. Huer, we must!”

“Back? My dear,” the old man said, “you can’t be serious. You know what the life expectancy is outside the Inner City?”

“It’s the life expectancy of the Inner City itself that I’m concerned with saving, Dr. Huer. That, and the entire planet Earth!”

Huer’s eyebrows flew ceilingward in alarm. “What are you saying, child?”

“I realize now how foolish I was in pressing for the Council to pass judgment on Captain Rogers. We had the perfect test of his guilt or innocence in our hands, and we failed to apply it!”

Dr. Huer shook his head in puzzlement. “I’m afraid I don’t—”

Wilma interrupted the old man. “Buck Rogers claims that the Draconians helped him. He could provide us with the perfect opportunity, the perfect
excuse,
to go aboard their ship and check out his story.”

“While using the same expedition to do a little looking around for—other things. That is very good, child.”

“Exactly,” Wilma agreed. “It’s a good plan, I have to say that even though I invented it myself.”

“Well,” old Huer said drily, “you chose a fine time to think of it. I doubt that Captain Rogers feels in a very friendly or cooperative mood as far as the Inner City is concerned. That is, if he’s even alive.”

“Never mind,” Wilma cried. “I know he’s alive, somehow. Just help me to convince the Council to suspend their sentence while they review my new findings.”

Huer rubbed his chin with a pale, blue-veined hand. “I’ll try, Wilma, that’s all that I can promise you. I’ll try.”

In the Council Chamber of the Computer Council of the Inner City, membership had been brought back to a full twelve by the elevation of a replacement for the banished Dr. Theopolis. The Counsellors were again assembled, the lights dimmed, and this time it was not Buck Rogers but Dr. Huer who held the floor of the meeting.

“It is in the city’s and planet’s best interests,” Dr. Huer was saying. “As things stand now, we have nothing further to lose, for all will be lost anyway.”

“But the very fabric of our society,” the computer Apol said, “is threatened when a ruling of the Council is reversed, or even suspended. The word of the council must be final and absolute.”

“No,” Huer differed. “This case transcends all rules and precedents of the Council. If the Council has erred in its judgment, the danger of letting the error stand is far greater than that of admitting fallibility and correcting the error. If by some horrible error of judgment the Draconians are admitted to Earth, and they come to us not as friends but as traitors and enemies in our very midst—
then
will all be lost! Then we would suffer an absolute defeat. Therefore we
must
seize this opportunity to verify the honesty of their stated intentions.”