We watched them go from Hawking. They all seemed confident, if grim. I wasn’t so sure. He was a slippery son of a bitch and it sometimes seemed that he and Ronan had people everywhere. Everyone has a price and it’s not always money. I could see him slipping through their fingers, as Ronan always seemed to slip through ours.
As soon as Number Five disappeared, techies moved forwards and began to put out chairs; three chairs in a line behind a table and then a mass of seats behind them in a semi-circle. All facing one solitary chair set a little distance away. A very familiar adversarial layout. What seemed the entire unit was filing into the hangar. Some arranged themselves along the gantry. We took seats in the front row alongside the other Chief Officers. I picked out familiar faces, but this wasn’t a social occasion. It was necessary, but no one was going to enjoy this.
The hum of conversation slowly died away as the minutes passed. Tension built. I sat quietly and looked at the floor.
They were only gone about half an hour. The lights flashed above the plinth and a heartbeat later, Number Five was back. Ten seconds later, Number Seven materialised. They had him. And his pod. Our pod, rather.
Immediately, the blast doors came down, sealing Hawking from the outside world. I felt the building shake. Armed guards took up positions around the hangar. All the lights came on, bathing the entire hangar in a harsh and unforgiving glare. As harsh and unforgiving as the next hour was likely to be.
At last, the pod door opened and the Director led the way out. Behind her, walked a heavily guarded Alexander Knox. He seemed in pristine condition. I admired their restraint. If it had been me, he’d have fallen down every flight of stairs between my time and theirs. Still, most people are much nicer than me.
It was so quiet I could hear the electronic hum of lights and equipment.
They pushed Knox forward. The Director sat in the middle chair. Ben, the doctor, was to her right and Evan, the Senior Historian, to her left.
I watched Knox settle himself and look confidently around at his former unit. I thought of Dr Bairstow and couldn’t help making the inevitable comparison.
The Director stood.
‘This is not a trial according to the laws of this land. St Mary’s deals with its own problems. Your crimes are against St Mary’s. St Mary’s will judge you. Does anyone here have any objections?’
The obvious answer to that was Knox himself, but he said nothing, just blinking in the bright light. At a gesture from the Director, some of the lights were lowered. The rest of us were in shadow but he was still alone and exposed in the harsh glare. Vain as ever, he tried to straighten his clothing, but maintained his silence. No bluster or hasty denials. This was a clever man and he was holding his fire. I remembered again how effortlessly I’d been manipulated and wondered if he might actually talk his way out of this one.
Mrs Partridge slipped into the seat next to me and gave me a brief smile.
The charges were read. They were straightforward. They listed everything Ronan had done and charged Knox as an accomplice. It was a very long and comprehensive list.
Still he said nothing. I stirred uneasily.
The Director asked him to plead.
He said nothing.
She said, ‘If you do not speak, we will assume you are admitting your guilt and proceed accordingly.’
He said nothing.
Around me, people were restless. This was bad. All right, they hated him. They wanted him dead, but they would have been more comfortable with outright denial, or pleading for his life, or even any sort of response at all. This behaviour made them uneasy. The Director had wanted this done in front of everyone because everyone had been affected. Everyone should see justice done, and I could see why, but I was wondering if this was going to backfire on her. He’d only been here a few minutes and already resolve was wavering. He really was a master manipulator.
Perhaps he thought Ronan would descend and pull him out of this. Or no, maybe he still had people here. People he hoped could get him out. I watched him closely. His eyes flickered around the hangar. He could only clearly see the three judges in front of him. The rest of us must be just a blur in the shadows.
Around me, dust fell and the building ticked in the silence. Everyone waited in vain. He still said nothing.
She conferred briefly with her fellow judges.
‘Dr Knox, your failure to respond to the charges laid against you leads us to assume you believe you have no defence and are, therefore, pleading guilty. This is your last chance to answer the charges before you. Do you have anything to say?’
He spoke.
Finally, he spoke.
‘I ran. I admit it. I ran. Not in fear for my life as you are so quick to assume, but in a last, desperate effort to save my unit and induce the invaders to follow me. By leaving St Mary’s, I hoped enough of them would chase after me, thus enabling you to overcome the rest. That my efforts were unsuccessful is not my fault.’
Evan said, ‘And why would they follow you, Dr Knox?’