“What are the charges?” a woman asked. According to Ely’s display she was the Assembly overseer.
“This is in relation to the murder of Alphonse and Finnya Greene,” Ely said. The supervisor backed away.
Ely frogmarched Glastonbury out of the Assembly. It was only when he was in the corridor that he realised his mistake. He’d nowhere to question the suspect. The last time, the only time, that he had conducted an interview had been shortly after he’d begun his career as a Constable. That had been a matter of sedition based on evidence recorded on the other-net. Of course, Ely couldn’t let the agitator know that the other-net was constantly monitored. He hadn’t known himself until Arthur had told him.
The interview itself had taken place down on Level Two in the small cell that they’d then had. Ely remembered the experience well. It had taken a whole shift to break her, but he had, and then sentenced her to 10,000 hours on one of the penal gangs. That had been his first proper case.
And then, almost a year later, there had been the Re-Organisation, and the small office, and the smaller cell, had been re-allocated. Up until now, that hadn’t mattered. He thought quickly.
“Don’t move,” he snarled, pushing the suspect against the wall.
He tapped out a command onto his wristboard, commandeering an elevator. That would get him into trouble, he knew, but he couldn’t see an alternative. As an afterthought, and as he waited for it, he tapped out a message to all the workers who were queuing for it below. It simply said ‘requisitioned for use in the interrogation of a suspect in the murder of Finnya and Alphonse Greene’. That, he thought, would add to the public interest, keep the story rolling, and help him keep his job. The elevator arrived. He shoved Glastonbury in, then tapped out a command to take them up.
“Where are we going?” Glastonbury asked. The red light on his visor was blinking. Ely accessed his account and turned the man’s camera off.
“Level Seventy-Seven.”
“To see the Councillor?” If the man had sounded scared before, now he sounded terrified.
“No. You’re not worth Councillor Cornwall’s time. I’m taking you outside.”
“What? But no one can survive out there. We’ll die.”
“Not we. You.”
“But I haven’t done anything.” It was a weak protest.
“That’s it. Keep lying. It won’t matter. I have my orders. There’s been too much disruption.” The elevator doors opened. Ely pushed Glastonbury out in front of him. “Deducting points won’t work. Not anymore. An example needs to be made. Of you.”
The man continued stammering out a protest as Ely pushed him down the hallway, and towards the airlock that led to the transport pad. He stopped at the end of the corridor.
“Through there is the outside,” Ely said, pointing at the grey metal doors of the airlock. “Rain so heavy you won’t be able to breathe, wind so strong you’ll be blown up, and off, and over twenty miles before you hit the ground.” Everyone knew what life was like outside.
“Please…” the man whimpered.
“Unless,” Ely said, then paused, waiting for the dim prospect of hope to take hold.
“Unless what?”
“State your name.”
“What? You know my name.”
“For the record,” Ely said. Unlike the workers, his cameras were always recording and had no light to indicate as such.
“Record? My… my name is Silus Glastonbury.”
“Age?”
“But…”
“What’s your age?” Ely demanded.
“Thirty-nine.”
“Occupation?”
“I work in the Assemblies. You know that.”
“Yes,” Ely said. “And those were the easy questions. Did you kill Mr and Mrs Greene?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“When did you first meet them?”
“I didn’t, I mean, I’ve never met—”
“Really. What’s this?” Ely tapped out a command. An image came up on Glastonbury’s display showing him sitting at a table in one of the lounges next to Mrs Greene. “And this one.” Ely tapped out another command. The image changed to a video from the Recreation Room. The two Greenes were pedalling away just like the hundreds of others. To the left of the victims were their children. To the right was Glastonbury.
“I mean, but that’s…” Glastonbury took a breath. “So we work the same shift. So do four thousand others. I mean, I was bound to be standing by them, or sitting next to them, or something at some point.”
“So you do know who they are. Why did you lie?”
“What?”
“A moment ago. You said you’d never met them, now you admit you had.”
“I didn’t…” Glastonbury stammered. “I didn’t know they were the two who died. I saw some rumours during the break, but I’ve been on shift, haven’t I? I haven’t had a chance to read any articles or anything.”
“And you admit now you’ve met them before.”
“No, I meant I knew that they worked here, of course I did. I didn’t know their names. I just knew their faces. I mean, I know what dozens of people look like—”
“And they’re your next victims are they? That’s your plan is it? You stalk the corridors and seek out good, diligent workers. Why do you do it? Why do you kill?”
“It’s not me. I didn’t do it. I’ve never done anything.”
“You’re lying.” Ely grabbed his arm and shoved him a few feet closer to the airlock. “I don’t have time for this. If you’re not going to answer truthfully, I’m not going to bother asking any more questions.”
“But I am, I’m innocent. I haven’t done anything wrong. I didn’t kill them.”
“But you know who did,” Ely said.
“How could I?”
Ely slammed the man against the wall, hard.
“Where were you when they were killed?”
“It happened last shift, didn’t it? I was asleep.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“This is your final chance,” Ely said. “The next lie will be your last.” He tapped out a command. Glastonbury’s face screwed up as he focused on the string of data that had just appeared on his display.
“I don’t know what any of that—”
“For five and a half minutes last night you went off-net,” Ely said. “At the same time that the Greenes were murdered. Either you killed the Greenes or you know who did.”
“I don’t.”
“You were asleep. You woke up. You got out of your pod. You didn’t put your wristboard on.”
“I… there’s… there’s no law about waking up.”
“No, you’re right, there’s not,” Ely said. “Nor is there a law that says you have to wear a wristboard at all times. But you went off-net at the same time as the Greenes were murdered. Do you have another explanation?” He paused a moment and saw the hesitation in the man’s face. “No? Fine. The charge is sabotage.” He began to drag the suspect the last few yards to the airlock.
“No. Stop. You can’t.”
“I can. I have my orders. No trial, just the execution. No more wasted hours. I’m sick of people like you. Everyone else is able to sacrifice and strive in order for there to be a future for the human race, but you?” He slammed Glastonbury into the metal door of the airlock. “You think you’re above the law. No, I’m not going to have any more of it.”
The man started to cry. Ely moved over to the panel to the side of the door.
“Silus Glastonbury, for wilful complicity in sabotage, I sentence you to—”
“No, wait. Please. I’ll tell you. It’s the water.” The words came out so quickly they were barely coherent. “There’s a way to get more. The system doesn’t work, not properly. Everyone knows.”