The stranger laid still on the simple bunk of a white room. It smelled of antiseptics. The room was completely silent, asides from the slow beeping of a machine in the corner of the room, indicating that the stranger was asleep.
His wounds had been mended and wrapped carefully in white linen… quite strange, now that the man had been identified.
Nonetheless, exhaustion and sedatives insured that he slept peacefully.
Faint noises echoed down the corridor. As one stepped closer to the origin, the noises turned into voices, then into shouts and protests. An intense discussion took place behind a door guarded by a droid and marked: "Council in session. Do not disturb".
- Councilman, this is madness! We should warn the military! Send a courier to Earth!
So spoke a heavily decorated man with gray hair. He was quickly backed by other members:
- Yes! Yes! The Headcouncil is right! We should call the Prime Minister himself!
- This is a matter for the army!
- The man is a PIRATE!
- … And an assassin!
- Don't you watch the news, Goodman?!?!
But, the fat councilman Goodman only grinned wider. He raised his voice to cover the protests of his colleagues:
- PLEASE, PLEASE! Gentlemen. Actually, I find this to be a UNIQUE opportunity that presents itself to us…
- You're mad, Goodman!
- Hardly, councilman Creed. Before this noble assembly cedes to panic, I'd like to expose my point of view…
- But…
- …uninterrupted if possible?
Reluctantly, the other councilmen went quiet, while Goodman, in his eternal brown suit, stood from his chair. Grabbing the collar of his vest at chest-level, raising his nose a bit higher in the air and clearing his voice, he spoke with a presidential voice:
- We, the people of Colony X-7-3, have, up until now, lived rather marginally within the Space-Federation. Through this, we avoided number of troubles: the Great Famine, the Pirate Uprising and the sadly famous War against the Machines. Thus, we have created our own way of thinking, our own culture and our own inventions. Unlike the rest of humanity, we do not struggle for food, have a near-zero crime rate and our machines could not be more obedient. But, the time for isolation nears its end. We are ready to show the universe the greatness of our Civilization. We are ready to export our beliefs to the now needy, hungry and desperate remnants of humanity. But, for the Federation to adopt our superior way of life, we must first bring tangible proof of this superiority. Studies, reports and statistics would do little to impress the Earth Congress. We need to show, in the flesh, our accomplishments.
Goodman paused to put emphasis on his following argument.
- And so, the opportunity I spoke of earlier has been brought to us. We, of X-7-3, through our great scientific minds, have concluded long ago that there is no such thing as Evil. That logic, medical and psychological analysis can reveal the real roots of the so-called "criminal mind". That is why we have relinquished the use of primitive "prisons" and "jails" to the better adapted and more humane psychiatric wards. The belief of "evil" brings fear, and fear brings illogical reactions. But WE have the better way. I propose to this honorable assembly that we attend the stranger… however terrifying his reputation, which, I do not doubt, is born of ignorance and primitive thinking… We should put him through the P.R.O.G.R.A.M. so he may be remade into a productive, collaborating, obeying and happy member of society. His fame and miraculous recovery will gain us enough political weight to ensure us a position of strength within the Space-Federation. Position we could then use to spread Our Way throughout the universe.
The councilmen weighted the fat midget's words, until the Headcouncil spoke:
- You have an interesting position, Councilman Goodman. Earth and the other colonies could use our peaceful way of life, but there is too much at risk. The pirate is famous for his ability for grand-scale destruction. Such a dangerous man would be better left at the hands of higher authorities. Not to mention that we are, by Earth-decree, bound to transfer high-ranking criminals to the nearest military installment as soon as possible.
Goodman bowed to the elder.
- Spoken wisely as always, Headcouncil. But, with all due respect, I insist. If we acknowledge the danger, we also acknowledge the primitive thinking behind it. I am somewhat shocked by the lack of faith shown in our precious institutions…
The Headcouncil and Councilman Creed gawked at the barely-hidden provocation.
- … But I am convinced the rest of the assembly will see the greater-reasoning behind my humble project. Truly, I am so confident in our ability to reform the stranger, that I have ordered for him to be transferred at the establishment under my authority. Establishment, which you are all aware of, happens to also be the permanent residence of my beloved daughter. Now, if there was any danger, do you believe I would put my own child's well-being at risk?
A whisper of approval traveled amongst the assembly. But Councilman Creed rose from his chair in protest:
- No risk, you say? What if His crew comes looking for him? What then? And what was he doing here, on this remote world to begin with? Shouldn't we be concentrating on that first?
- Pirates are notoriously disloyal. He has been abandoned, while injured, by his companions. Then my personal guards, through delicate negotiations, peacefully secured him and brought him in for healing. I doubt any other pirate will bother with a rescue. Once he has been put through the P.R.O.G.R.A.M., all danger will be gone. If need be, He will tell us himself why he came here.
Once again, the councilmen nodded in approval. Councilman Creed was baffled by such an apathetic attitude over such an important issue.
- You can't go against interstellar agreement, Goodman! You have to turn him in!
- Now, now, Councilman Creed. Temper. There are no military ships within 100 000 light-years of this colony. Besides, the decree does speak of criminals. We can hardly be expected to follow "to the letter" a decree that asks us to turn in something that does not exist…
The rest of the assembly laughed while councilman Creed and the Headcouncil sunk in their chairs.
- … and, if I may add, if we turn in this poor soul to the military and their barbaric methods, you can be certain he will be executed on the spot! Can we, in all honesty, allow such a practice to take place? To allow a troubled an ill man to be executed and be denied proper help? And, most important, to leave the rest of mankind in their primitive and barbaric way of life? Surely, my esteemed colleagues, you see how important this moment is? It is time for Colony X-7-3 to leave the shadows of its secluded existence and rise amongst the greatest of worlds. We, the people of X-7-3 must rise above the crowd and guide humanity back into the light! We shall impose our way, the better way, to the rest mankind and will shall do so, starting with a single soul: that of CAPTAIN HARLOCK!
The assembly exploded in cheers of approval.
-TBC-
That's all for now.
Action will start in next chapter, which is currently in writing, but I'm not certain I'll be able to post it tonight.
Until then, feedback will be appreciated…