Cerberus: A Wolf in the Fold by Jack Chalker

Author:Jack Chalker [Chalker, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf
Published: 1981-12-31T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A Judgement

On the way in, I cautioned both of them to say nothing. Dylan squeezed my hand and Sanda’s. “It’s all right,” she said simply. “I knew what I was doing, and I’m not sorry for it even now. Maybe it’s a fair exchange, although not one I’d have made willingly. I’ve had five years of living. Now maybe it’s somebody else’s turn.”

“Don’t talk like that!” I scolded her. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“It’s the end of my world,” she almost whispered.

Once in the stationhouse, in a corner of the Municipal Building, both women were taken into a small room where their card imprints and scans were taken. I was not able to follow, but simply had to pace back and forth in a small waiting area. Even the bork hunt paled before my feelings now, which were at an all-time low. After about half an hour, they let me see Dylan for a few minutes while they processed their records and did whatever cops did. Sanda was being held in a separate room, and I didn’t see her.

“Well, it’s over,” she sighed.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“They’ve been laying for me, Qwin. Laying for me for, I guess, five years. They didn’t like the fact that I wormed my way out of the motherhood, so they’ve been waiting for a chance to get me. A clerk in the office—one I know, one who’s worked there almost as long as I have—was a plant. They had something on her. An old criminal conviction or something, and she was too low in skill level to be considered vital. She had to catch me or when she reached the mandatory age it was the mines for her.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Five years?”

She nodded. “They needed an example. There’s been a lot of rumblings in the motherhood since I sneaked out. I was their symbol of hope—and I knew it. The authorities had to get me, no matter how long it took. They said their psychological profiles indicated I’d do exactly what I did sooner or later, and they were sure right.”

“What happens now?” I asked her, both concerned and mad as hell at a system that would wait this long to hang somebody.

“Judgment,” she told me. “The witness, the cops, and the scans proved their case automatically.”

My mind was racing. “Who sentences you? What kind of rank?”

“A professional judgment panel. Thirteen of them. I’m scheduled to meet them in a little less than an hour. They don’t usually hold proceedings this late, but they’re making a special case for me.”

I thought of all the men in high places I knew. “Is there someone I can call? Someone who can intercede?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Maybe after, but not now. We don’t even know what the sentence is yet—could be almost anything. All I know is that it was planned and directed years ago.” She looked up at me.

“Don’t blame yourself! I did it, all of my own free will.

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