To The Stars

“I don’t need evidence.” Thurgood-Smythe’s voice had the coldness of death in it. “If you weren’t my wife’s brother I would have you arrested on the spot. Taken out of here and sent to interrogation and — if you lived — to a camp. For life. As far as the world would know you would simply vanish from the public files, your bank account would cease to exist, your apartment would be empty.”

“You could do this?”

“I have done it,” was the flat and overwhelming answer.

“I can’t believe it — it’s horrible. On your word alone — where is justice…”

“Jan. You are stupid. There is only as much justice in the world as those who are in control of the world care to permit, to enable affairs to run smoothly. Inside this building there is no justice. None at all. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“I understand, but I can’t believe it could be true. You are saying that life as I know it is not real…”

“It isn’t. And I don’t expect you to take my word for it. Words are just words. Therefore I have arranged a graphic demonstration for you. Something you cannot argue with.”

Thurgood-Smythe pressed a button on his desk as he talked and the door opened. A uniformed policeman led in a man in gray prison garb, stopped him by the desk, then exited. The man just stood there, staring unseeing into space, the skin of his face limp and hanging, his eyes empty.

“Condemned to death for drug offences,” Thurgood-Smythe said. “A creature like this is useless to society.”

“He’s a man, not a creature.”

“He’s a creature now. Cortical erasure before execution. He has no consciousness, no memory, no personality. Just flesh. Now we remove the flesh.”

Jan gripped the chair arms, unable to speak, as his brother-in-law removed a metal case from his desk drawer. It had an insulated handle and two metal prods on the front. He walked over and stood in front of the prisoner, pressed the prods to the man’s forehead, and thumbed the trigger in the handle.

The man’s limbs jerked once in painful sudden convulsion, then he dropped to the floor.

“Thirty thousand volts,” Thurgood-Smythe said, turning to face Jan. His voice was toneless, empty of expression as he walked across the room and held the electrical device before Jan. “It might just as well have been you. It could be you — right now. Do you still not understand what I am saying?”

Jan looked with horrified fascination at the metal prods just before his face, their ends blackened and pitted. They moved closer and he recoiled involuntarily. At that moment, for the very first time, he was suddenly very frightened for himself. And for this world that he lived in. Up until now he had only been involved in a complicated game. Others could get hurt, he never would. Now the realization struck him that the rules he had always played by didn’t exist. He was no longer playing. Now it was all for real. The games were over.

“Yes,” he said, and his voice was hoarse. “Yes, Mr. Thurgood-Smythe, I understand what you are saying.” He spoke very quietly, barely above a whisper. “This is not an argument or a discussion.” He glanced down at the body sprawled on the floor. “There is something you want to tell me, isn’t there? Something that you want me to do that I am going to do.”

“You are correct.”

Thurgood-Smythe returned to his desk and put the instrument away. The door opened and the same policeman entered and dragged out the corpse. Horribly, by the legs bumping the limp head across the floor. Jan turned his eyes away from it, back to his brother-in-law as he spoke.

“For Elizabeth’s sake, and for that reason alone, I am not going to ask you how deeply you are involved with the resistance — although I know you are. You ignored my advice, now you will obey my instructions. You will leave here and cease any contact, stop any activity. Forever. If you fall under suspicion again, are involved in any way with illegal activity — from that moment onward I will do nothing to you. You will be arrested on the spot, brought here, interrogated, then imprisoned for life. Is that clear?”

“Clear.”

“Louder. I did not hear you.”

“Clear. Yes, clear, I understand.”

As Jan said the words he found a terrible anger driving out the fear. In this moment of absolute humiliation, he realized how loathsome the people in power were, how impossible it would be to live with them in peace after this discovery. He did not want to die — but he knew he would never be able to live in a world where the Thurgood-Smythes were in charge. His shoulders slumped, and he lowered his face. Not in surrender, but only so that his brother-in-law would not see the rage, the anger that he felt.

His hands were thrust deep into his jacket pockets.

He depressed the button on the glow lighter.