Part 29 (1/2)

And that, no doubt, was what IMC needed Legion for. Humanity didn't have the technology to control black holes even the atom*sized ones that had been formed by density fluctuations during the Big Bang. They were leasing the technology from Legion's race.

She had to stop it before it started.

Christine stood up and headed for the airlock.

Bishop slipped a hand inside his robes and wrapped his fingers around the b.u.t.t of his judicial weapon. He could certainly take out one of the troopers, but he estimated a forty per cent chance that the Doctor's head would end up sizzling on the wall before he could disable the other.

'Wait!'

The troopers looked up as a ma.s.sive bulk glided from the shadows.

'IMC policy is that there should be no unnecessary deaths,' Bronwen ap Bryn rumbled.

'Seconded,' the Doctor said around the muzzle of the neutron cannon.

'Ah, well, that all depends...' Kreig s.h.i.+fted from one foot to another.

'...on your definition of unnecessary,' Ardamal finished, removing his cannon from the Doctor's mouth and wiping saliva from it. The Doctor ma.s.saged his gums resentfully.

'Get on with your rounds,' Bryn snapped, gesturing the troopers away. Bishop noticed with some satisfaction the distaste with which they squeezed past her. Interesting: they obeyed orders, but they didn't seem to like it. He filed that one away for later use.

'The company I'm forced to mix with...' Bryn said apologetically.

'I'm surprised to find you so reluctant to aid and abet murder,' Bishop said, stepping forward to confront her, 'considering how you must have stood by and accepted the slaughter on Moloch.'

'There was no slaughter on Moloch. You heard Legion.'

'On the basis that the Project Eden team were issued with no weaponry,' Bishop said, falling into his Adjudicatorial manner, 'how do you explain the wounds, if not by organized IMC butchery?'

'Don't come the high and mighty with me,' Bryn snapped. 'Your record isn't exactly lily*white. How many murders have you committed in your time?'

'None,' Bishop said, affronted.

'You killed fifteen people on Callisto.'

'Drug dealers.'

'And another thirty*eight in Macedonia.'

'Revolutionaries.'

'And the entire population of Frinelli Minor?'

'Energy*wasters and dysfunctionals.'

'Correct me if I'm wrong,' Bryn simpered, 'but you currently hold the Guild of Adjudicators record for most deaths incurred in the course of duty.'

'Judicial executions,' Bishop snapped.

'Murders by another name,' Bryn chided. 'The Guild of Adjudicators, IMC, what's the difference? They both decide what is right and what is wrong. They both kill in line with that decision. Who is to say that one is any better than the other?'

'There are laws '

'Laws are made by humans. When Earth Central made the laws, the Guild enforced them. Now the Earth Alliance of Corporations makes the laws, and they have their own enforcers. The Guild has no rationale any more, no justification. The future is with the EAC.'

'You may have sold out,' Bishop spat bitterly, 'but I still believe in truth, and justice, and right.'

'You don't understand, do you?' Bryn's deep voice was smothered in malicious pity. 'There's nothing left to sell out from from. And the EAC decide what is true, what's just, and what's right.'

'It's the golden rule, isn't it?' the Doctor said from the sidelines.

'You understand,' Bryn said. 'I'm so glad.' She turned and waddled daintily back into the shadows. 'I remember you as a young squire, Bishop,' she said as she retreated. 'You were good. Too good to waste your life clinging to outdated ideals. When you've changed your mind, let me know.'

Her footsteps echoed loudly through the corridor for a few moments, and then there was silence.

'She let us go,' the Doctor said, surprised.

'I was her squire, for a while,' Bishop said. 'Long ago, when I was young, and she was honest. Perhaps she thought she owed me something.'

'Perhaps she suspects she's made the wrong decision, and wants to make some kind of amends.'

'Either way, she should keep personal sentiment out of justice.' Bishop took his hand from the b.u.t.t of his weapon, where it had been all the way through the conversation. 'Oh, and what is the ”golden rule”?'

The Doctor smiled. 'Whoever has the gold, makes the rules,' he said, and walked off.

The side of the executive transporter had been cleaned by the time Christine stepped out of the airlock. She was wearing a s.p.a.cesuit whose name tag read 's.h.i.+PARELLI', she had the helmet screwed on, and she had the polarization set on full. It was like she was stumbling around in the dark. There were enough technicians and pilots around dressed the same that she didn't look conspicuous, but that didn't stop her feeling like she had a big glowing holosign above her head saying Escaped Prisoner! Please Apprehend! Escaped Prisoner! Please Apprehend!

The bustle around the newly arrived executive transporter was attracting a lot of attention, and Christine managed to get to the side of the bay without being noticed. She didn't actually know where she was going: it was like some autopilot had kicked in, some part of her subconscious which kept her putting one foot in front of another whilst the rest of her mind sorted out the difficult things like reason, and direction.

The airlock in the new executive transporter had opened now, and two suited figures were emerging.

She had to find the Doctor. If anybody could fight IMC, he could. That meant stealing an executive transporter. d.a.m.n! She was heading in the wrong direction. She should have stayed back in the 'Hey, you! Stop right there!'

There were upwards of thirty people in the bay. There was a good chance she was safe. She took two more paces.

'One more step, Christine, and I burn your spine out!'

It was over. Somehow, the thought bought its own measure of relief. No more decisions. She turned.

Ace's face was set into an implacable mask. The barrel of her gun was a long, dark tunnel with death at the end of it.

'Hi!' Bernice said brightly. 'Glad you could join us.'

There were signs in the heavens.