Mercury

Bracknell drank in the warmth of her body, the scent of her. But his eyes bore into Molina’s, who glared back angrily at him.

Why is Victor sore at me? Bracknell asked himself. What’s he got to be pissed about? He betrayed me; I haven’t done anything to him.

“Everyone stand,” called the court announcer.

The judges filed in, their robes looking newer and darker than Bracknell remembered them. Their faces were dark, too.

Once everyone was properly seated, the chief judge picked up a single sheet of paper from the desk before him. Bracknell noted that his hand trembled slightly.

“The prisoner will stand.”

Bracknell got to his feet, feeling as if he were about to face a firing squad.

“It is the judgment of this court that you, Mance Bracknell, are responsible for the deaths of more than four million human souls, and the destruction of many hundreds of billions of dollars in property.”

Bracknell felt nothing. It was as if he were outside his own body, watching this foreordained drama from a far distance.

“Since your crime was not willful murder, the death sentence will not be considered.”

A stir rippled through the packed courtroom. “He killed my whole family!” a woman’s voice screeched in Spanish.

“Silence!” roared the judge, with a power in his voice that stilled the crowd. “This is a court of justice. The law will prevail.”

The courtroom went absolutely silent.

“Mance Bracknell, you have been found guilty of more than four million counts of negligent homicide. It is the decision of this court that you be exiled from this planet Earth forever, so that you can never again threaten the lives of innocent men, women, and children.”

Bracknell’s knees sagged beneath him. He leaned on the tabletop for support.

“This case is closed,” said the judge.

BOOK III EXILED

Beware the fury of a patient man.

LEAVING EARTH

They wasted no time hustling Bracknell off the planet. Within two days of his trial’s inevitable conclusion, a squad of hard-faced soldiers took him from his prison cell to a van and out to the Quito airport, where a Clippership was waiting to carry him into orbit.

The airport looked relatively undamaged, Bracknell saw from the window of the van, except for the big plywood sheets where the sweeping windows had been. It’s a wonder the crash didn’t trigger earthquakes, he thought.

The soldiers marched him through the terminal building, people turning to stare at him as they strode to the Clippership gate. Bracknell was not shackled, not even handcuffed, but everyone recognized him. He saw the look in their eyes, the expressions on their faces: hatred, anger, even fear—as if he were a monster that terrified their nightmares.

Lara was waiting at the terminal gate, wearing black, as if she were attending a funeral. She is, Bracknell thought. Mine.

She rushed to him and leaned her head against his chest. Bracknell felt awkward, with the grim-faced soldiers flanking him. He slid his arms around her waist hesitantly, tentatively, then suddenly clung to her like a drowning man clutching a life preserver.

“Darling, I’ll go out to the Belt with you,” Lara said, all in a gush. “Wherever they send you, I’ll go there too.”

He pushed her back away from him. “No! You can’t throw away your life. They’re putting me in some sort of a penal colony; you won’t be allowed there.”

“But I—”

“Go back home. Live your life. Forget about me. I’m a dead man. Dead and gone. Don’t throw away your life on a corpse.”

“No, Mance, I won’t let you—”

He shoved her roughly and turned to the soldier on his left. “Let’s go. Andale!”

Lara looked shocked, her eyes wide, her mouth open in protest.

“Andale!” he repeated to the soldiers, louder, and started walking toward the gate. They rushed to catch up with him. He did not dare look back at Lara as the soldiers marched him into the access tunnel that led to the Clippership’s hatch. His last sight of her was the stunned look on her face. He didn’t want to see the tears filling her eyes, the hopelessness. He felt wretched enough for both of them.

The access tunnel was smooth windowless plastic. A birth canal, Bracknell thought. I’m being born into another life. Everything I had, everything and everyone I knew, is behind me now. I’m leaving my life behind me and entering hell.

And then he saw the bulky form of Rev. Danvers standing at the end of the tunnel, blocking the Clippership hatch. The minister was also in black, he looked downcast, sorrowful, almost guilty.

Bracknell felt a wave of fury burn through his guts. Damned ignorant viper. Frightened of anything new, anything different. He’s happy that the tower failed, but he’s trying to put on a sympathetic face.

Bracknell walked right up to Danvers. “Don’t tell me you’re going out to the Belt with me.”

Danver’s face reddened. “No, I hadn’t intended to. But if you feel the need for spiritual consolation, perhaps I—”

With a bitter laugh, Bracknell said, “Don’t worry, I was only joking.”

“I can contact the New Morality office at Ceres on your behalf,” Danvers suggested.

Bracknell wanted to spit out, “Go to hell,” but he bit his lip and said nothing.

“You’ll need spiritual comfort out there,” Danvers said, his voice low, almost trembling. “You don’t have to be alone in your time of tribulation.”

“Is that what you came here to tell me? That I can have some pious psalm singer drone in my ear? Some consolation!”

“No,” Danvers said, his heavy head sinking slightly. “I came to … to tell you how sorry I am that things have worked out the way they have.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am. Truly I am. When I reported to my superiors about your using nanotechnology, I was merely doing my duty. I had no personal animosity toward you. Quite the opposite.”

Despite his anger Bracknell could see the distress in Danvers’s flushed face. Some of the fury leached out of him.

“I had no idea it would lead to this,” Danvers was going on, almost blubbering. “You must believe me, I never wanted to cause harm to you or anyone else.”

“Of course not,” Bracknell said tightly.

“I was merely doing my duty.”