Two hours pass and the room illuminates. But not with one halo, but with sixteen.
Half the Wise Men across 8 of the 17 remaining ARK ships, have come to bear witness. The original judge is at the center of the multitude of screens, but has colleagues flank him; all gray eyes and stern weathered faces. Some are beginning to show signs of cryo-sickness; when the human body can no longer sustain itself between cryo-sleeps and starts to deteriorate. Lines like cracks in clay form around the lips and eyes and go beyond simple wrinkles but deep gashes to the bone, giving a more skeletal appearance to some of the men and women who gathered.
I lost my chance to join their number, to live long enough for the body to even reject the science that forms the basis of our society. A thousand, maybe five thousand years before some experience the sickness, and I forfeited that extended life with one bullet.
On the other hand, there are more than a few, less ancient individuals amongst the crowd. They're all in N.O.A.H as they don’t look any less stern. In fact, something like hatred is in their eyes, barely contained by their military bearing. I doubt they will say anything, in my defense or to heap on more condemnation.
I didn’t do them any favors with my actions. Something I will have to live with, even if I’m still somehow under the delusion that I’m in the right.
“We the Wise Men, have come to a decision regarding your fate, David Matchworth.” My Judge begins, “Despite the extraordinary and unprecedented nature of your crime, and the fact that we are well within our rights to provide you with the same mercy you’ve shown your fellow man and Patriarch, Kevin Steward.”
A deep exhale, “We have shown you a fair trial and due diligence of the facts provided.”
I try not to smile, this isn’t funny, “In all due respect, my testimony was thrown out by you and my superiors.”
The gathered Wise Men glance at the Judge, but not all, some, the members of N.O.A.H, prefer to stare at me in the hopes I melt under their intense gaze.
“The evidence you provided doesn’t justify murder. Or give allowance to a none-guilty verdict.” The Judge neutrally explains, no doubt attempting to keep his voice monotone despite his personal feelings, because we are being recorded for posterity, “And we cannot set a precedent, a legal precedent, for justifiable murder outside of self-defense in our society. Now or in the future.”
I nod slowly, nothing to say there.
Another Wise Men speaks up, her face a drawn-back mask of skin and bones, but eyes intense and hard, “Arthur Dreadfoot (she’s referring to my judge) argued for the death penalty, as per the law, common decency, and justice for the slain.” She shakes her head, as if unable to bring herself to say the next few words, “However members of N.O.A.H have proposed a different, less wasteful punishment, that is both in-line with our morals and takes into account… the evidence brought forward.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“So you believe me.” I blurt.
Several faces crunch up in disgust, hate, and indignation. Some make the telltale signs of muting themselves before they have an outburst. The Wise Men have prided themselves in not just being smart. But wise. Impartial. Serious. Capable of cutting through the inherent bias of human emotion. Even now, in a court session that will be privately viewed amongst themselves for maybe a decade before Patriarchs of the Law, Human Psychology, or Sociology departments are allowed to review the data, they have to pretend their above such petty human faults like righteous anger. God is a pragmatist after all. The universe runs on math, not feelings. Feelings would have wished us another habitable planet. Wished us more technicians to keep the entire fleet of ARK ships instead of losing nearly two-thirds to accidents born of ignorance and bad luck. Or even better, faster than light drives to enable full exploration of the Milky Way.
But the math brought us back here. And at war. A war that requires every man and woman to play their part to keep the supply lines going and the common folk happy and out the way. To maintain the ships which are our only life lines, and to find new ways to do more with less. Every able-bodied man and woman, with the gift of learning, is needed in every discipline, so if the death of one Patriarch is a tragedy, what about two?
That’s the dilemma, the moral argument. Kevin must be avenged. But to shoot me out an airlock? 257 years down the drain.
But it's well within their right to do that. They should do that.
But God is a pragmatist, “Facts are facts. Kevin was planning to communicate with one of the species down on Earth, and in doing so risk us all.” Judge Arthur begins, “It was not your decision to unilaterally take care of the threat. Even if you felt that your superiors or this Council was not taking your warnings seriously.”
The rest of the Wise Men nod, my judge continues, “Patriarch David Matchworth of N.O.A.H 122nd Division, we find you guilty of the murder of Patriarch Kevin Steward of the Library of Earth Natural Archive and History. For this senseless crime we the Council will sentence you to exile.”
Exile? Over death or lifetime in this cell? This is a first. But… exile to where?
“This exile will be on Earth. Where your commitment to the glory that is mankind will be tested.”
Arthur’s words stop making sense.
He can’t… no, they can't be suggesting what I think they're suggesting “Only DAVIDS are allowed on Earth.”
Half the Wise Men shake their heads, and the other half, the ones from N.O.A.H who apparently proposed this plan, remain stone still.
“You will not be given the rank of DAVID. But you will spend your time on Earth in Goliath Armor, as a further extension of our mercy. You will pay for your crimes, and also continue to serve humanity.” The Wise Men known as Arthur Dreadfort takes a deep, calming breath, as each word spoken seems to pain him, “It is for the Glory of Mankind, that your sins will be washed in the blood of our enemies. Fight. Live. Or die. Your execution will not be by this Council's hands.”