“Please!” cried the man playing the defendant. “Stop this!”
Short, squat and with slicked-back hair emphasising a widow’s peak, he was dressed expensively: a three-piece suit, tie and pocket square. His eyes glittered with tears and Addison felt a glimmer of professional respect. The man was already acting circles around the others.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know!” he cried.
“Four...?” One said, almost lazily.
The grey woman unholstered a prop pistol hanging from her belt, took aim and fired. There was a loud crack, and the defendant’s limbs stiffened. Four made a show of tapping a button and on cue the man was moving. Legs jerking like a marionette, he came down onto the floor and into the witness box where he sat down with a thunk. Addison almost applauded, the shock on the man’s face was award-worthy.
“For the benefit of our civilian assistant,” Judge One continued, nodding to Addison. “This is our defendant, a returnee from your time.”
“My time,” Addison repeated, realising he had no choice but to play along. “Got it.”
“Sir,” the judge declared, addressing the defendant. “You have been in the vision chair, you understand your predicament, you know both when and where you are. Now, please confirm you are indeed Oliver Ross, former CEO of the Rossco commodity trading and mining conglomerate?”
“I’m the current chairman,” Ross stammered. “Or I was… I’m sorry, I’m getting confused––”
“Would you also confirm,” the judge interrupted. “That Rossco dealt in metals, minerals, crude oil, coal and natural gas, as well as a latter-day divestment into cryptocommodities and digital wealth management?”
The man nodded slowly. The judge gestured to Two.
“Prosecution?”
Two stood, consulting his tablet.
“The charges are as follows!” he began, in his jarringly affable manner. “That in the course of your career you committed terracide via the adjunct crimes of ecocide, toxicide, deforestation, illegal waste disposal, fraud, forgery, bribery, criminal conspiracy, forced displacement, torture, slavery, war profiteering and genocide. Mr. Ross, how do you plead?”
There was a long pause.
“Genocide?” the man breathed. “You can’t be serious?”
“Your plea, Mr. Ross?” Two repeated.
“I didn’t do this. I didn’t do anything!”
“For the record, a plea of not guilty has been entered. I will now present historical accounts to substantiate each charge.”
Digital screens flickered on all over the courtroom. On walls, tables, benches, every available blank space, blue-white projections appeared: company documents, watermarked images, photographs and social media posts. As Addison’s eyes lingered on a photo of a woman face-down on a desert road, a bloodied headscarf draped over her body, he frowned. This was all getting rather involved for a corporate advert.
“That was thrown out!” Ross said, eyeing the picture. “Quashed!”
“This is not evidence to dispute, Mr. Ross,” Two replied. “These are facts verified for centuries. We ask merely for an acknowledgement you see them.”
“I don’t––”
Four raised her pistol.
“I see,” Ross replied hastily. “I do not acknowledge.”
“Your confirmation is acknowledgment enough,” Two replied. “The prosecution rests.”
Addison blinked.
Everything was happening too fast.
“Thank you, prosecution,” Judge One continued, apparently satisfied. “Defence?”
Five rose to his full height, readying his speech.
“The defence has nothing to add at this time,” he said, and immediately sat back down.
A prickling sensation swept up Addison’s spine.
“No!” Ross shouted. “You can’t do this!”
“Do not make us use the compulsion pistol again.”
“No!” the man repeated, suddenly manic. “What happened to innocent until proven guilty? What happened to the statute of limitations?”
“Ancient, long-abandoned concepts. You are being tried ex post facto.”
“Ex post what?”
“After the fact. As is our custom.”
“Why me, then?” Ross cried. “Why not Bezos, or Musk or any of that lot. They had more! They did worse!”
The judge turned abruptly to Addison.
“Mr. Moore?”
“Sorry?” he stammered, caught off guard.
“These names are unfamiliar,” One replied. “Any historical or cultural context would be constructive.”
Addison was aware of Ross’ eyes boring into him.
“Well,” he began, stumbling over his words. “They were rich people, owned billion dollar companies. Tech, retail, that sort of thing. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of them, they were pretty fam––”
“Our records are not as complete as we would like,” the judge interrupted. “But tell me, these people, were they good?”
“At their jobs?”
“Morally. Did they oppose the ecological holocaust?”
“Oppose...?”
The judge’s face flashed with irritation.
“Did they pour all their wealth into averting the oncoming disaster?”
“All of it? Not exactly...”
“Thank you, Mr. Moore,” the judge said, turning away. “Most helpful.”
Across the court, Ross was staring at Addison.
“We are trying you, Mr. Ross,” One continued. “Your peers’ alleged conduct has no mitigating effect on your own.”
But Ross wasn’t listening.
“You’re not one of them!” he said, eyes fixed on Addison. “I can see your face moving. Who are you?”
“The interpreter,” he replied. “Didn’t they tell yo–”
“Then help me!” the man yelled, eyes wide. “For god’s sake man, help me!”
Addison’s heart was pounding. Ross no longer seemed like he was acting, he looked genuinely terrified. Something was very wrong here.
“Thank you all,” the judge said, as Four’s pistol clicked and Ross fell silent. “My verdict is as follows.”
Now it was Addison’s turn to interrupt.
“Already?” he blurted.
“You have something to contribute, Mr. Moore?”
Addison was aware he was breaking character, but he was unwilling to let whatever this was spiral further out of control.
“No due process?” he replied, looking around the court. “No jury of one’s peers?”
“That is not our custom.”
“What is this? What are you trying to achieve here? This isn’t justice, it’s… revenge! It’s transparent. You might as well just whack out the guillotines! Who is your employer? What’s behind this?”
“Five,” the judge growled, turning to the defence table. “You assured us no outbursts.”
“Apologies, your honour,” Five replied, before shooting Addison a panicked look.
Play along, he mouthed.
Addison’s reply was cut off by One banging his gavel.
“I find the defendant guilty!” the judge cried. “Oliver Ross, you committed egregious acts of ecological damage, contributing to a global crime of terracide for which there can only be one punishment...”
Addison’s breath caught in his throat.
“The sentence is death.”
Ross strained against his invisible restraints.
“In keeping with the manner of your crimes, what you did to the planet shall be done unto you. Oliver Ross, you are hereby
