Mother Death

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After a lengthy and generally fair trial, judge and jury found the accused guilty on all counts: Avoiding surrender once his Family was officially disbanded; illegal terraforming coupled with the unkind manipulation of sentient organisms; misleading investigators in pursuit of Chamberlain ringleaders; unbecoming arrogance; plus an ancient charge involving the fondling of women with fingers and penises composed of substances unknown.

After an appropriate delay—slightly more than three minutes—the Emergency Tribunal passed the expected sentence.

Without ceremony, the prison gates dissolved, and Avram Chamberlain was thrown to the mercy of the waiting mob.

It was a clear night on a minor world that until this moment had little place in history. Anticipating the verdict, three million citizens had gathered outside the prison. Many were refugees from the Core, and everyone had a thirst for vengeance. When the gates vanished, the mob pressed forward; nearly eight thousand were critically injured in the wild stampede. It was an armed contingent of off-duty police who finally brought the Chamberlain into the wide, open-air plaza. And with his appearance came a ringing silence. No one spoke, or breathed. The prisoner walked with a numbed calm. His old-fashioned body was naked, and except for scraped knees, he was fit. Hands and feet were unbound. Thick red hair lay short and neat above the most famous face in the galaxy, and piercing blue eyes looked past his captors, gazing up at the night sky.

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