On the day of the trial Jan shaved carefully, then pulled on the clean clothes that had been brought for him. He carefully pinned on his badge of rank. He was Maintenance Captain and he wanted everyone to remember it. When the guards came he was ready to go, almost eager. But he drew back when they produced the wristcuffs.
“No need for those,” he said. “I’m not going to attempt to escape.”
“Orders,” the Proctor said, Scheer, the same one Jan had felled with the club. He stood out of range with his gun raised. There was no point in resisting. Jan shrugged and held out his arms.
It was more like a feast day than a trial. The law said that anyone could attend a public trial — and it looked like the entire population had decided to do just that. There was little work to be done since the seed corn had not been planted. So they came, all of them, filling the Central Way from side to side. Family groups, with food and drink, prepared for a long siege. But there were no children there: under the age of sixteen they were forbidden to attend trials because of the banned things that might be said. So the older children were watching the younger ones and hating it.
No building could have held this crowd so the trial would take place outdoors, under the changeless twilight sky. A platform had been erected with seats for judges and defendant. A speaker system had been hooked up so that everyone could hear. There was a carnival feeling in the air, some free entertainment so they could all forget their troubles. And the ships that never came.
Jan climbed the flight of steps and sat down in the box, then examined the judges. The Hradil, of course. Her presence there had been as assured as the law of gravity. And Chun Taekeng, Senior Elder, his place guaranteed as well. An unexpected face, old Krelshev. Of course — he would have taken over as Elder when Semenov was unseated. A man of no intelligence and lesser nerve. A tool like the other two sitting next to him. The Hradil was the only one that counted today. She was leaning toward them, instructing them no doubt, then straightened up and turned to face Jan. The wrinkled face cold as ever, the eyes unemotional icy pits. But she smiled when she looked at him, ever so slightly, but undoubtedly there, though vanished in an instant. A victory smile; she was so sure of herself. Jan forced himself not to react, to sit in stony and expressionless silence. Any emotion he displayed during this trial could only do him harm. But he still wondered what she was smiling at. It was not long before he found out.
“Silence, silence in the court,” The Hradil called out, and her amplified voice spread down the Central Way, bouncing from the buildings on each side. She said it just once and the response was instant. This was a most serious moment.
“We are here today to judge one of our number,” she said. “Jan Kulozik, the Maintenance Captain. Grave charges have been leveled and this court has been assembled. I ask the technician, is the recorder operating?”
“It is.”
“Then proper records will be kept. Let the record show that Kulozik was accused by Proctor Scheer of murdering Proctor Captain Ritterspach. This is a grave charge and the Elders in conference investigated the matter. It was discovered that witnesses to the so-called murder differed with Proctor Scheer. It appears that Ritterspach died when Kulozik was defending himself from an unprovoked attack. Self-defense is not a crime. Therefore it was deduced that the death was accidental, and charges of murder have been dropped. Proctor Scheer has been admonished for his enthusiasm.”
What did it mean? The crowd was just as much at a loss as Jan was and a murmur swept through the watchers, silenced when The Hradil lifted her hand. Jan did not like it. All he knew was that with the charges dismissed he was still cuffed. And that oaf Scheer had the nerve to be grinning at him. Admonished and now smiling? More was going on here than was apparent and Jan was determined to strike first. He stood and leaned close to the microphone.
“I am pleased that the truth has come out. Therefore please free my wrists—”
“Prisoner will be seated,” The Hradil said. The two Proctors slammed Jan back into the chair. It was not over yet.
“Far graver charges have been leveled against the prisoner. He is charged with inciting to riot, with disloyalty, with disloyal actions, with disloyal propaganda, and with the most serious of all. Treason.
“All of these crimes are most grave, the final one the most grave of all. It carries with it the death penalty. Jan Kulozik is guilty of all of these crimes and will be proven so today. His execution will take place within a day of the trial, for that is the law.”
Eighteen
There was shouting from the immense crowd, questions. Angry men pushed forward, Jan’s friends, but stopped when all twelve of the Proctors drew up in a line in front of the platform, weapons ready.