The Time Voyager's Obsession

Discernment - I

     The council had reconvened quickly after that, their faces sombered by the weight of decision. Hana mounted the dais, readying herself mentally. She raised her gaze to the clerestory windows lining the amphitheater. They allowed only a small strain of light through their weathered panes, the only view, that of the red dust swirling above ground. 

     That same tempestuous wind raged within Hana’s heart, contained behind rigid walls of self-control. She breathed in, repeating the cruel admission in her head, willing her lips to speak the lie. She would receive no justice from the council, and anything she said in her own defense, Filo would warp into a weapon against her. She had only one choice to make, as bitter as that entrapment was to her.

     “As you all know,” Speaker Centiri voiced reverently, breaking into Hana’s thoughts, “our laws dictate that an Envoy’s word is ordained by the highest order of the heavens, and is therefore above citizen reproach. In keeping with that edict, we are gathered here today, not to determine guilt or innocence, but to issue just sentencing. We, as a council, have had time to deliberate on Envoy Belias’s statement, and see no reason to delay these proceedings. We will now hear the plea of the accused, Hana Dari, in order to determine the severity of this court’s sentencing. Hana, would you please approach?” 

     Hana walked forward with slow resolve, taking a knee before the governing council. 

     “How do you plead, citizen?” Envoy Centiri asked, looking down his long nose at her. 

     Hana opened her mouth and closed it again, running her tongue over her dry lips. Swallowing hard, she tamped the fear down deeper within, building her walls up firm and strong. 

     “Guilty,” she uttered, staring down at the floor, the silence of the room devolving into chaos. “No further statement, your honor,” Hana said decisively, shooting a black look in the direction of Filo. 

     Though his facade remained carefully constructed, Hana could see cracks forming beneath its foundation. She watched as his throat convulsed, Adam's apple bobbing, the lines of his jaw growing dangerously taut. Desperation bled through his pinched features, reflected in his glassy-eyed stare. She had knowingly placed her fate beyond the reach of Filo’s influence, albeit in the hands of strangers. 

     She spared a glance towards Rus, who bore a nearly predatory smile, a baring of teeth that promised he would relish in the grave consequences awaiting his goddaughter. 

     Dayis raised a hand, calling the room to order. The audience fell into a tense silence, waiting for him to speak. “While the governing council of Astra Glacies values honesty, above all other virtues, it is unprecedented for a citizen to submit an omission of guilt before this court without a statement. So, I will give you one last opportunity to present this council with a defense. It would be in your best interest to take that opportunity, Hana. Do you have a statement to share?”

     “No, Speaker Centiri, I do not,” Hana repeated emphatically. She watched Filo’s face carefully, a thin layer of sweat forming on his brow, his fingers bearing the slightest twitch. 

     “Very well then,” the Speaker said, rising as he spoke, “the governing council of Astra Glacies finds Citizen No. 312546, Hana Dari, guilty of intent to cause civil unrest. In the matter of speaking slander against an appointed envoy, the citizen is found guilty. In the matter of general s****l promiscuity, the citizen is also found guilty. She is hereby ordered to report to the prison of Mala Fide for immediate documentation. Once assigned to a labor camp, she is sentenced to serve a prison term of no less than one year, during which time enough credits may be earned to pay off her debts to the Eastern Borough. Upon the completion of time served, Hana Dari is to be brought before this council for reevaluation, in order to determine whether or not she is fit to return as an active, and productive, member of society. The council would like to thank you, its citizens, for bearing witness to these proceedings. If there are no objections, I hereby call this court adjourned-”

     “Wait!” Filo cried suddenly, drawing every eye to him. Rus grabbed at his arm to silence him, but he shook his father off roughly. “I bear no ill will towards Hana, only the deepest affection of my heart. I ask that she recant her prior statement. She is not a criminal by my standards, and I do not wish to see her suffer under such a harsh punishment. I only want what’s best for her. ” He looked at Hana pleadingly, having overplayed his cards. She could see now that he had hoped to threaten her into submission, but buckled at the thought of loosening his grip.

     “By the standards of this court, Envoy,” Dayis replied stoically, “her actions are most certainly criminal. Under regular circumstances, I would question if your affection for Hana, could be clouding your better judgment. However, out of respect for your station and exemplary service, I will submit to your plea. Citizen, do you wish to recant?” 

     Hana watched him warily, feeling like a beast in a cage. She could clearly see remorse etched into the lines of Filo’s face, yet hidden beneath his goodwill, a dark desire still lingered. He would do whatever it took to have her back under his control, even if it meant begging. 

     Suddenly it all became clear to her, the countless times she had seen him for what he really was. It had been there all along, the lies, the manipulation. Hana had turned a blind eye to it, unwilling to believe the worst of her childhood friend, until she herself had become a victim of his narcissism. She was as much at fault for her predicament, as Filo himself. 

     “I do not,” she replied with disgust, both at herself and the man before her. 

     Jeers and boos could be heard, emanating from within the crowd. Whether it had been his intent or not, Filo had villainized her before the entire borough. She was exactly the cold, punishing, woman he had painted her to be. He took a step backward, reeling once again from her refusal. It was beyond his limited understanding how she could possibly deny him. Filo Belias had become accustomed to getting what he wanted. 

     His father apprehended him, holding his son by the shoulders as he whispered into his ear. Filo nodded, as though in a daze, and addressed the speaker once more. 

     “If that is Hana’s final word, then I would like to take this time to submit a formal request before this council. I ask to be allowed general supervision of Hana’s incarceration, for her own safety, in addition to overseeing her probation upon return to Astra Glacies.”

     Hana was jostled from her dark recollections by a sudden lurch, as the transport cruiser leveled back onto a horizontal plane. The metallic taste of blood tinged her lips, and she realized the sudden pitch of the vehicle had caused her to bite down on her tongue. She swiped at her mouth with the back of a hand, hastily rubbing away the flecks of red mixed with saliva. 

     Leaning towards the window, Hana peered out into the fiery blaze of starset. If she did not find the view so intimidating, it would have been dazzling. The day’s last rays of light fell across the towering glaciers, painting them in deep shades of cobalt blue, molten gold, and fiery magenta. Hana looked down at her hand, stunned by how the bright colors played across the rich shades of her dark skin. Such a display was foreign to her, her eyes so accustomed to the harsh artificial light of the subterranean boroughs. Hana had spent precious little time above the planet’s surface, mostly during her childhood while accompanying her parents on research expeditions.  

     She swallowed hard, the sweetness of her memories silvered in sadness. There was a time when their lives had seemed inextinguishable, two stars trailing paths of light across the uncharted wilds of the tundra. Hana had never felt safer in her life, than when wrapped in the embrace of their celestial orbit. She missed that familial safety nearly as much as she missed her parents. Blinking rapidly, she hid the tears behind her bleary gaze. Hana had cried too much in the past few days, and Jen and Tibor Dari had not raised a weak daughter. She needed to be as fearless as they had once been.

     Hana clung to their memories as the light turned to shadow, the mouth of the ice gaping wide. 

     They were approaching the crevice itself now, an ill wind screaming up from its cavernous depths. The transport cruiser rocked and braced with each gust, its passengers held captive in an uneasy silence. The vehicle descended once more along the narrowed path of the Razor’s Edge, the ferocity of the wind threatening to blow them from the cliffside. 

     For what seemed like hours, they crept slowly downward. The magical twilight of the surface world, long forgotten within the howling void of the crevice. Upon finally reaching the floor, they found the crevice to be veiled in complete darkness. Starset had been hours ago, but the canyon was so deep, Hana doubted the morning’s rays would reach the bottom. As the crevice widened, the passengers could make out a cold light up ahead, guiding them through the frigid dark.    

     As though drawn from the ghosts of Hana’s past and crafted into a physical manifestation, Mala Fide loomed slowly before them, wreathed in stark pale spotlight. The octagonal man-made structure stood in clear contrast to its equally formidable natural surroundings. There was nothing to admire in its plain rigidity. The prison could not be more than three stories high throughout its frame, yet it spread to a great width, crouched between imposing walls of ice. The sheer height of them was more than the naked eye could follow. 

     Around its base, fog reached out with icy tentacles from within the hidden recesses of the mines. As the cruiser drew closer, a siren, long and wailing, began to sound. A spotlight turned to watch them approach, the beam of it’s beacon swathing the car in thick milky light. Hana looked up as the high whine of engines passed overhead. An armed guard tailed the cruiser on either side, their speeders hovering just above the icy surface. 

     The passengers stirred restlessly within, some swaying back and forth, others mumbling low prayers under their breath. Hana watched the girl with pity, the whites of her large eyes darting fearfully at each new sound. She clung tightly to her mother, the woman’s silent tears running down her cheeks to collect within her child's thick braids. Would Hana be forced to witness the child being ripped from her mother’s arms? Her heartbeat quickened, as she rubbed moist palms against her thighs. It was all too callous, too cruel and intrusive. 

     The cruiser, and its escort, slowed before the prison’s gates, the great riveted plates moaning eerily as they swung open wide. Within the metal walls, the yard of the prison was a barren grid, with foot soldiers patrolling its grounds and armed speeders covering the air. As soon as the cruiser rumbled past the gates, the iron mouth creaked closed, trapping the passengers within the militarized base. The transport eased slowly into the terminal, braces extending from its belly to steady the vehicle for the dismount. Hana held her breath, watching as the air bridge extended from the terminal gate.   

     From there everything happened in a blur. 

     In the hectic din of the terminal, she immediately lost sight of the other passengers. Each was met by an armed guard, disappearing within the fray one by one. Hana looked around guiltily for the child but could not spot her, or her mother, within the crowd. From each gate, steady flows of passengers were jostled into crooked lines, each heading towards a different processing booth.

      Upon exiting the transport, a guard had searched and patted her down for concealed weapons. Her simple bag of possessions, basic toiletries, a book, and a change of fresh clothes, had been roughly torn from her fingers. She would never see it again. It was replaced by a brown, military grade duffle. Hana had not the time to explore its contents; she merely clutched it to her chest like a security blanket. 

     “Name,” the soldier who had received her barked roughly, holding a visual scanner to her temple. Her picture appeared in a hologram database before her. 

     “Hana Dari,” she said, ashamed of the quaver in her voice. 

     “Citizen No. 312546, Hana Dari, resident of the Eastern Borough of Astra Glacies?” he queried, never meeting her eye.  

     “That’s me,” she returned, setting her mouth into a hard line. 

     “You, come with me. I’ll be escorting you through intake processing. No sudden moves, citizen. Two steps behind your fellow inmates at all times.”

     Hana followed obediently, assuming her place within the winding line. By the time they finally approached an open cubicle, Hana’s legs ached and her stomach had begun to growl. 

     The woman in the booth looked like a vulture, her small pale eyes circled within mounds of flesh. “Dari, huh?” the woman smirked knowingly, “I’ve heard all about this one from the top. Camp D ought to suit her just fine.” The woman looked down, her hooked nose buried within her paperwork.

    “With all due respect, Officer Hawchek, Camp D is a co-ed ward and this-” 

     “Is there a reason you’re wasting my time, private? I’m busy here, best get a move on. Take prisoner Dari to her assigned camp. There's an opening in cell block F. You can even tuck her in if you like,” the woman smiled crudely. 

     “Of course, Officer Hawchek,” the foot soldier saluted, grinding his teeth before steering Hana away by the elbow. 

     Neither of them spoke, which came as a relief to Hana. She did not have it in her to make conversation. Exhaustion had overtaken her as soon as she had set foot through the terminal, and the intake process had only served to drain her further. They proceeded down a long hallway, stopping before a double set of transparent sliding doors, equipped with an airlock between them. 

     On the other side, Hana could see the lettering of Camp D. The private called for a clearance code, typing in the numbers on the data panel. As the doors slid open, Hana’s feeling of unease grew. Camp D was located to the far right of the prison, its walls painted a faded blue that had begun to peel. While the ward seemed to be in poor upkeep, it was heavily manned. A double guard paced down every cell block, matched in full SWAT armor, their fingers hovering over their weapon triggers. 

     Hana paused in horror as two guards wrestled with a man strapped in a straight jacket. He foamed at the mouth like a rabid dog while he flailed and screamed. The private took hold of her arm firmly, steering her away from the commotion. 

     “Private!” one of the guards cried out from behind him. “Help us restrain this man!”

     The private looked back at them, then eyed Hana ruefully, “Don’t move, and don’t speak to anyone,” he said authoritatively, his voice then sinking to a low hiss, “It’s not safe for you here.”

      He spun on his heel, running to the aid of the guards. Hana stood as still as a statue, her skin crawling. The warning of the private rang like an anthem in her head. It’s not safe for you here. Not safe for you here. Not safe. She jumped at the sound of scraping behind her, flinching away from the transparent barrier of the cell. Within the dim light, she could see a man dragging himself purposefully across the floor. He pressed a rough hand to the thick layer of glass, forcing his body into a sitting position.      

     “Tahlia,” he moaned, his voice cracking hoarsely, “Tahlia.”

     Hana took a step back, recoiling from the prisoner as if he were a snake. 

     The man’s eyes seemed to brighten suddenly, a small smile of promise pulling at his lips, “It is you, I knew you’d come. I couldn’t be wrong again, not again. You’ve come. You’ve finally come.”

     Hana watched him warily, tugging at her fraying braid with nervous fingers. “I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong woman, my name isn't Tahlia.” Something about him felt familiar, despite his broken state. The gray-blue of his haunting eyes pierced through the darkness, drawing her in like an embrace. She took a hesitant step forward, tilting her head to get a better look at him. 

     “Of course not, of course not,” he assured her, pulling himself to his knees, “But I can tell you, without a doubt, you are most certainly the woman I’ve been searching for. What is your name?”

     Hana snorted at the line, glancing over her shoulder for the private. He was still struggling to corral the wayward prisoner into his cell, his back turned to her. 

     “Please, your name. I don’t mean to frighten you, but you’ll need a friend here. Camp D is a dangerous place for a woman like you.” He looked at Hana oddly, a strange desperation pulling at his eyes. “What cell block are you in?” he asked suddenly, his brow furrowing, “Quickly now, before he comes back.”

     Hana could hear the private approaching behind her, the clicks of his boots hastening as he closed the distance between them. “Hana,” she whispered, unsure why she felt compelled to trust the man, both a stranger and a convict. “Cellblock F.”

     The reassuring smile slipped from the man’s face, and his skin paled. “No,” he croaked, his eyes suddenly wild, “No! No! No!”

     She jumped back with a fright, nearly toppling into the private. He looked at her in irritation, grasping her wrist firmly, “I thought I told you not to talk to anyone,” he snapped, pulling her away. 

     “You can’t take her there! You know you can’t! Not block F, you know what they’ll do to her!” the man had risen to his feet with a sudden burst of strength, his fists ramming painfully against the barrier. “Oh gods, Tahlia! Tahlia!” he screamed, slamming his fists down until the glass was smeared with his blood.