The truth was rather different.
The committee members shimmered into existence around me. We almost had a normal datalink up and running by this point, so there was just a little fuzz of interference around the edges of objects. It looked like I’d come in at the end of a very long meeting, judging by the empty coffee cups, demolished biscuit platters and scattered pads. Koggan BanOrishel from Security was not there this time, replaced by someone else, and Baheera Isnia had actually shown up from the Diplomatic Service.
“Dr. Singh. Thank you for joining us,” said Henni Ardassian. “You’ve probably heard something very important is about to happen…”
“An evacuation?” I asked.
Henni smiled. “No, thankfully. That would put an end to all this, wouldn’t it?”
Baheera Isnia frowned.
“It’s a little less apocalyptic,” continued Henni. “The IU is about to announce the formal activation of the Interversal Criminal Tribunal.”
“…oh.”
“We’ve been meeting to decide our response. Mr. Ai?”
The man from the ICT, Eremis Ai, spoke up. “Each of your patients will need to make a formal representation to the ICT. We’re ready to start full investigations on behalf of any of them.”
“Really, Mr. Ai?” Henni raised an eyebrow.
“Well. In due course. We’ll have to prioritise to begin with, but in principle—”
“Let’s be realistic, shall we? These are going to be some of your first investigations, so it’s not going to be fast.” She looked to me. “Please bear that in mind and make sure your patients don’t have any unrealistic expectations.”
“Of course,” I said.
“And Iokan?” asked Baheera. The air between her and Henni chilled fifteen degrees, even though they weren’t in the same room.
“Yes, of course, him as well,” said Henni.
Baheera looked at me. “I trust you’ll give him every assistance with his representation.”
“I can’t comment on what he might do, ma’am,” I said.
A frown came from nowhere. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s a confidential matter between patient and therapist.”
“But he has been more co-operative recently? I believe he allowed us access to the Department Zero archives…?”
“Yes, I know. I’ve been reviewing the data. But I can’t talk about specifics of therapy.”
She looked a little frustrated, while Henni seemed rather satisfied. I could usually ignore the political games going on above my head, but perhaps those days were ending, if Baheera was suddenly looking for ‘results’ in her mission to find out what happened on Iokan’s homeworld.
Eremis cleared his throat. “When do you think we’ll be able to see representations?”
“It depends upon my patients. And how much information you need.”
“Just a short statement for now.”
“I expect you’ll get something from us in a week or so.”
3. Group
The press conference was scheduled on the same day as a group therapy session, so I changed the session time to the same as the press conference, and personally made sure everyone attended.
“What’s so bloody important?” asked Olivia.
“There’s going to be a press conference in a few minutes,” I said, bringing up the feed from the IU media channel on a wall, “and it concerns all of you, so I thought we’d watch it before we start on the group session.” A graphic came up; the broadcast hadn’t begun yet.
“What’s it about?” asked Liss. She still had polymer casings on her arms, but her burns were nearly healed.
“Is it… the ICT?” croaked Iokan, his throat still affected.
“Yes. Things have been happening fast.”
“They actually did it…?” said Liss, shocked.
“Yes.”
“Typical,” said Olivia. “Don’t do a bloody thing to help us but as soon as someone punches them in the nose they get all hoity-toity about it.”
“It’s starting,” said Pew, already intent on the screen.
The graphic cut to a shot of a distant table on a stage, with hundreds of journalists from every species waiting before it. The camera zoomed in on the stage as the IU insignia shimmered into life behind the table, along with the logo of the Interversal Criminal Tribunal.
“What happened to the newsreaders?” asked Liss.
“This is a direct feed,” I said. “It’s what gets sent to the media before they add all their bits and pieces.”
I turned up the sound. Sudden shouts came from the press as the camera swept to the left to track the entry of three people, blattered by camera flashes: I recognised Jary Conel, chief spokesman for the IU directorate, familiar from a thousand broadcasts; Ovile Dalass, shadow director of the ICT, a woman with a piercing police gaze, and Eremis Ai, who was plainly more important than I knew.
They took their places at the table, and the image cut to a tight shot of Jary Conel. “Good morning,” he said. “Thank you all for coming. We’re here to make an announcement, followed by questions. Let me start with the main announcement.” The camera flashes intensified. “From today at twelve noon, the Interversal Union will formally activate the Interversal Criminal Tribunal. This decision has not been taken lightly, nor has it been taken as an act of revenge against those who attacked Hub. This is a recognition that the Interversal Union, as the only organisation with the ability to do so, has a responsibility to deal with criminal acts that take place between universes.
“I’ll hand you over now to Ms. Ovile Dalass, the shadow director of the ICT, and shortly to be the first director.”
The camera swung to find a shot of her. “Thank you. First of all I’d like to thank the General Director of the IU for placing his confidence in me and my organisation. Secondly, please do not imagine we will be an interversal police force looking over everyone’s shoulders. Our remit will be to investigate the very worst abuses of one universe upon another, and bring to light offences that shame every species of humanity.”
The group watched as further details were given: the ICT would be hiring investigators from a wide variety of IU member species. It would have powers of arrest on universes that permitted it. It could not impose or seek a death penalty. Then the session was opened up to questions.
“If I may put to you a hypothetical case…” said a journalist.
“Certainly,” said Eremis Ai.
“If you discovered an act of genocide committed by one universe upon another, but you didn’t have the co-operation of the authorities in the universe that was guilty, how is it possible you could bring anyone to justice? Isn’t this just an academic exercise?”
“I think it’s much more than that,” said Eremis. “I think it’s about letting people know not only that these things happen, but who actually commits these crimes. People must know that if they abuse people on another universe, they cannot expect to do so without interversal scrutiny. We’re not just going to be trying the guilty. Our reports are going to be made public so people can make up their own minds about who they’re dealing with.”
“Goddamn politician…” said Liss.
“Liss?” I asked.
“He didn’t answer the question!”
“Let’s discuss it once the conference is over, okay?”
She settled back down and the questions and answers went on. No, the IU would not be creating an interversal police force. Nor would it create a military. It reserved the right to enact sanctions upon member species but these were never to be taken lightly. A question was directed to Ovile Dalass.
“Could the director tell us how the activation of the ICT is related to the recent discovery of a planet on which every single person had committed suicide?”