Pearseus: Schism

Barrett

Cursed with both a heavy sense of responsibility and a nervous disposition, Jennifer Barrett found it hard to stop her mind from racing. Whenever that happened, she could lay on her bed for hours mulling the events of the day before falling into an uneasy sleep. Tonight was no exception. If anything, sleep proved even more elusive than usual. Every time she closed her eyes, the image of Lucas pleading for his life sent a sob to cling in her throat. She had heard many tales of bravery in which the hero invariably faces death with dignity, or even contempt. Somehow this made it easier. Lucas, however, had begged for his life, and mercy had been denied to him. The surprise and despair on his face could not leave her mind. She cried herself to sleep.

She woke up in the middle of the night, wondering if she was still dreaming. And yet, the grey-haired man wearing a wool robe and a silver amulet felt as real as her sorrow. His presence startled her out of her sleep. Strangely enough, she felt no need to cry for help, although his eerie calmness and unemotional expression, much like a scientist studying his exhibit, unnerved her.

“Who are you?” she stammered.

“Just a friend.” He cocked his head, studying her with deep eyes, eyes older than time itself. “Dreadful business today, simply dreadful,” he muttered, sounding reassuring, yet distant.

“What are you doing in my room?”

He frowned at the question, as if it made no sense. “I’m waiting for you to wake up so we can discuss your verdict. Have you decided yet?”

“No.” She sighed and sank back into her bed.

He nodded in sympathy. “On one hand, these are your people, your children. How can anyone stay mad at children for long? On the other hand, justice must be served. Love and justice, a fine balance indeed.”

He bobbed his head and pressed his lips, reminding her of an old law professor she had, a lifetime ago. She closed her eyes and rested her head, certain she was dreaming, but when she opened her eyelids, the old man was examining her with mild curiosity.

“What do you want?” she moaned.

“Merely to suggest a way that best serves balance. It’s what we do, you know.”

“Is it? Who are you, anyway?”

He made a dismissive motion with his hand and straightened a non-existing crease on his sleeve. “Not important. What’s important is – ”

“I’m sorry, I need more than that.”

He was clearly not used to being interrupted, but she was a High Court Justice, not a little girl to be cowed into submission. When she refused to drop her glare, he relented with a soft sigh. “Very well, let’s just say we’re the natives.”

Her brow furrowed. “You don’t look like a First.”

Amusement followed bemusement in his face and he chuckled. “No, I’m not a First.” He pursed his lips; it was obvious she would not get anything more out of him.

“And your name?”

“Just call me Pratin,” he said, a thin smile crawling on his lips.

“Very well then. Now, why is this case so important?”

His eyebrows drew closer, somehow making his face look like a rubber mask. “Why? Because your decision will cause innumerable ripples. Right now, you’re the most important person on the planet. Generations will be affected by your decision.”

She turned her head away, her eyes suddenly wet. “What’s to decide? The madman’s dead.”

“Ah yes. An eye for an eye, isn’t that the expression? Indeed. Croix found swift justice in the hands of Ensign Tang. Surely Tang must be pardoned, then. Yet, half your people helped Croix. Don’t they bear any responsibility? What’ll happen next time someone decides to turn boys into tyrants?”

She shook her head. “That won’t happen”.

He bobbed his head to do that professor thing again. God, how she missed Earth all of a sudden...

“Won’t it?” he asked. “We’ve watched mankind for a long time, you know. Longer than you can imagine. A fascinating world of cruelty and finesse in equal measure. An unusual balance. Still, there are certain patterns. Like, how societies evolve at an increasing pace, until half the population has nothing in common with the other half. This leads to an interesting conundrum. Move forward, as one half struggles to do, and society will split in two. Stay put, as the other half desires, and you stagnate. Civil war looms any way you look. Do you know how generation after generation has solved this?”

“By law?”

“My dear Justice, surely you are not as naïve as you sound. No, by finding a common enemy. Society has to unite once again, and war serves as a safety valve. It’s a brilliant tactic, you know, and it’s worked countless times.”

She yawned. Seriously? A lecture at this time of the night? “Even if true, that’s not us.”

“Isn’t it? Half your society followed Croix. Why?”

“Fear, I guess.”

“Exactly! Fear, the great motivator. And you think you can overcome it with law? You need an enemy. If only you could fight the natives, but that sly Old Woman has forbidden them from contacting you. So what are you to do?”

She briefly wondered who the old woman was, then shook her head. “I don’t care what you say. The law can achieve this.”

“Too late, the rift is already there. Things will only get worse. Besides, think of future generations! If you decide not to punish the culprits, everyone will assume it’s fine to take authority by force, to help a criminal, to break the law.”

“I can’t imprison half the population.”

“No. Too harsh a punishment and the law is simply seen as cruel. It’s not just your authority that will suffer, it’s the law’s. And we both know we can’t let that happen, right?”

She rolled her eyes. It was too late for a legal debate. “Fine. So what do you propose?”

“A simple, yet elegant solution. People should be free to pursue their ideologies. If they like fascism, set up a nice little place for them to play with it until they tire of it. What harm can there be in that?”

Barrett stayed silent for a while, considering his words. “You’re talking about exile,” she said at last.

The old man nodded with enthusiasm. “It’s the only way. You have no jails. Where are you going to put all those who worked for Croix? Besides, are your resources enough to feed them all if they don’t work for a living?”

She closed her eyes to think about the repercussions. For a split second she thought she heard – no, felt was the right word – a high-pitched sound just at the edge of her consciousness and cocked her head to pinpoint it.

“How about…” she started, then realised the old man had disappeared. She glanced around, surprised. Probably just a dream, she told herself. The whole thing had an unreal, dream-like quality. Unexpectedly, it did not take her long to sleep again. As soon as she woke up she grabbed her e-lib to pound notes furiously.