The cold, muffled stillness of a planetarium seeped through the palace. George scanned the gallery – the faces, the signs. Yes, there she was, between LET US IN and GIVE THEM A VOICE: Aubrey’s mother. His spermatids longed for the South Pole and the strength they knew they would find there.
At the defense table Bonenfant, Dennie, and Parkman held hands.
Justice Jefferson took her whalebone glasses from her scopas suit and put them on. She spread out the papers, selected one.
‘I shall begin by stating that, in the opinion of the tribunal, the doctrine of armed deterrence remains vigorous, credible, and intact.’
A vast and spontaneous ‘NO!’ thundered down from the gallery. The judge smashed her gavel into the bench, launching a spray of ice chips.
‘Even while undergoing certain disturbing variations during the last administration, the armed-deterrence doctrine continued to boast such resilience that it could be used to make as good a case for expanding America’s thermonuclear arsenal as for scaling it down.’
A smile jumped onto Dennie’s impossibly pretty face.
‘Hot damn!’ said Wengernook.
‘Guys, we brought it off,’ said Brat.
‘All they wanted was an explanation,’ said Overwhite.
‘We agree with Mr Bonenfant that armed deterrence might have lasted until the nuclear powers grew tired of maintaining their pointless stockpiles, subsequently scrapping them,’ said Shawna Queen Jefferson. ‘And we agree with the defendant Randstable that the warheads might also have disappeared through a kind of technological evolution.’
When the groans and catcalls finally subsided, the judge continued.
‘In his closing argument the chief counsel put a crucial question to us. What would we have done in his clients’ place? A fair question. A tormenting question…
‘Oddly enough, Mr Aquinas miscalculated when he introduced his scale-model weapons as evidence for the prosecution. For we learned that, whether carved from ice or from metal, such technology has a fearsome glamor. We found ourselves saying, “Yes, yes, give us these sensual missiles, these steel boats, these wondrous planes, these high-IQ warheads. Give us these things, and no one will ever dare to attack us.” So we too would have wanted that Triad, in all its completeness and power.’
Randstable and Wengernook exchanged thumbs-up signals. Transcending their differences over STABLE II, Overwhite and Sparrow embraced. Brat offered his bony right hand to George; the tomb inscriber shook it.
And then, after taking a drink of cocoa, Shawna Queen Jefferson removed her glasses and slammed them klack against the bench. ‘It is not we four judges who are on trial here, however,’ she said swiftly, tersely. ‘It is you six defendants,’ she added. ‘Thank God,’ sighed the president of the court.
She opened her Lincoln biography and, moistening her black thumb with a pink tongue, flipped back several pages. ‘In a message to Congress on December 1, 1862, Abraham Lincoln wrote, “The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion. As our case is new, so we must think anew and act anew. We must disenthrall ourselves…”’ She slammed the book shut. ‘Gentlemen in the dock, you know as well as I that the vast record assembled in this courtroom admits of but one interpretation. It is true that your crimes had the outward appearance of legality. It is true that you committed them under conditions that made it difficult for you to feel you were doing wrong. It is even true that you tried to limit their essentially illimitable implications.
‘But you did not rise with the occasion. You did not think anew. You did not disenthral yourselves… And you failed to reckon on the vulture.
‘There will always be a vulture, gentlemen. History is full of vultures. When you booby-trap an entire planet, you cannot cry “Non mea culpa!” if some faulty computer chip, misfiled war game, nuclear terrorist, would-be Napoleon, unmanageable crisis, or incomprehensible event pulls the tripwire. You cannot say that you were simply obeying your constituents or leaders. To quote Hannah Arendt, “Politics is not like the nursery. In politics, obedience and support are the same.”’
Bonenfant was shivering as if his scopas suit had ceased to function. Dennie’s exquisite face had turned ugly with anger and frustration.
‘Support,’ repeated Justice Jefferson. ‘There is where your guilt lies. For when all is said and done, what remains is this. Each of you in his own way encouraged his government to cultivate a technology of mass murder, and, by extension, each of you supported a policy of mass murder.’
George looked at Morning and realized that he had never before seen anyone weeping at a distance. He felt his spermatids shaking with dread.
‘Speaking personally,’ Justice Jefferson continued, ‘I would like nothing better than to say, “Gentlemen, there has been enough slaughter already, and we have decided to answer your crimes with love. You are free to leave this courtroom and survive as best you can here in Antarctica.”’ She bent her head for a moment. When she looked up, tears were poised on her eyelids. ‘But I cannot say that, for the tribunal’s duty at this moment is to tell all creation that we loathe what you did, and we know only one way to accomplish this.’
Parkman left the defense table and, throwing up his hands in a gesture of contempt, stalked out of the courtroom.
‘The defendant Overwhite will please rise,’ said Justice Wojciechowski. ‘Mr Brian Overwhite, the court finds you guilty on all four counts and sentences you to be hanged at sunrise tomorrow.’
‘I thought you just wanted an explanation,’ Overwhite sputtered.
‘The defendant Randstable will please rise,’ said Justice Yoshinobu. ‘Dr William Randstable, the court finds you guilty on all four counts and sentences you to be hanged at sunrise tomorrow.’
‘If I may say so, your Honors, that is the poorest decision I have ever heard,’ responded the former whiz kid.
‘The defendant Sparrow will please rise,’ said Justice Gioberti. ‘Reverend Peter Sparrow, the court finds you guilty on all four counts and sentences you to be hanged at sunrise tomorrow.’
The evangelist pulled the little Bible from his three-piece suit and kissed it. ‘I am with you always,’ he said with great dignity, ‘even unto the end of the world.’
‘The defendant Tarmac will please rise,’ said Justice Wojciechowski.
‘There’s a pattern developing here,’ muttered the MARCH Hare.
‘Major General Roger Tarmac, the court finds you guilty on all four counts and sentences you to be hanged at sunrise tomorrow.’ Brat pantomimed his opinion that Justice Wojciechowski should be subjected to an involuntary and unpleasant sexual experience.
‘The defendant Wengernook will please rise,’ said Justice Yoshinobu.
The assistant defense secretary did not move. His eyes looked packed in wax. His hands vibrated like chilly tarantulas. Gila Guizot entered the glass booth and hauled him to his feet.
‘Mr Robert Wengernook, the court finds you guilty on all four counts and sentences you to be hanged at sunrise tomorrow.’
Gila repositioned the defendant in his chair.
Brat is right, thought George. A pattern is developing here. But not for me. My luck is too good. Cancer? Nah, it’s only scar tissue, the family doctor had said. Yes, ‘I’ll marry you, Justine had said. Sure, I’ll give you a job, Arthur Crippen had said.
‘The defendant Paxton will please rise,’ said Justice Jefferson.
I’m a survivor, he thought. Nuclear war, radiation poisoning, human extinction – nothing can touch me.