Reviewing Justice

As Head of Science, Dr. Phelps had the right to attend all board meetings, he just chose not to.  He had been to one, once, many years ago, he had found it so exciting that he was going to be present at one of the Olympus executive board meetings.  When they had been barely into the first hour of the meeting he vowed that he would never go to one again, he would have never gone to one in the first place if he had been aware that the board were so boring.
    This vow had gone unbroken for over three decades; it wasn’t difficult to distance himself from the 110th floor, which contained their meeting room.  In Olympus tower, floors 99 to 109 consisted purely of the executives penthouses, the offices didn’t really begin until you reached floor 98 and below so Phelps never had a reason to go anywhere near the top floors.
Now he was being forced to go back on his word.  When the ‘Lost Seraph’ did not return to Stucka as planned and earned its name, an emergency board meeting was called, which he had been forced to attend.  It had been in progress for 82 minutes, Phelps knew this because throughout the vast majority of his time spent here on the 110th floor he had been staring at the clock.  This was not to say that he hadn’t glanced at the executives he was sitting with from time to time as well.
    On his left was a man who looked like he was about fourteen years old and Phelps had no idea how he got this position.  On his right was the old man, he had been with the company for even longer than Phelps had.  The executives changed so often that Dr. Phelps had never bothered to learn any of their names.
    It was true that the old man had always been an executive and probably always will but Phelps still never learned his name because it seemed unfair to the others.  Instead, he gave each one a nickname in his mind and the one sat on his right was known as old man.  Dr. Phelps wasn’t in the habit of making fun of someone’s age, he was quite old himself, it was just this man was very old.
    The room they were in was a bare one with the typical long mahogany table to fit in the many executives that the company had.  It had become a fairly recent trend that the more executives a company had, therefore the better it was.
    At the two opposite ends of the table was the fat man and the woman who had much too short hair for her face.  If it wasn’t for the executives, this might have been a nice room, most of it was black and exotic and the wall behind the fat man was completely transparent so there was a beautiful view of the city.  Dr. Phelps just wished that he didn’t have to look in the direction of the fat man to admire it.  For a moment his gaze shifted back to the clock.
    The meeting had now been going on for 84 minutes, the time was 03:05 on the 18th December 2119.  Dr. Phelps wished he was asleep, the old man next to him was sleeping so why couldn’t he?
    Dr. Phelps had barely listened to a word since he sat down, he didn’t have to, he had heard it all before.  Every board meeting, no matter what the topic, were all very similar.  Executives tended to use the same phrases over and over again, even when they were talking about something else, they liked everything to be neat, tidy and if possible, connected in some manner of another.
    Once it was reported that the Lost Seraph had not returned an emergency meeting of the Olympus executives was called to decide on an appropriate course of action.  While this meeting was being organised Phelps had looked over the recordings from Celestia during the time of the ships arrival.
    Dr. Phelps saw and heard everything that had happened on that station and he was only at this meeting to present his findings to the board.  Until then his job was to just keep quiet and wait until he was called upon by an executive.
    The fat man was speaking, “Dr. Phelps, would you please present your findings on the situation.”
    Finally, Phelps thought.  Then he began to speak, “As you know, the Lost Seraph failed to land at Stucka at 01:00, the time it was scheduled to arrive.”
    “Just tell us what you’ve found Phelps,” the short-haired woman said.  Dr. Phelps didn’t like the way she spoke to him, at least the fat man was more polite.
    “When this happened I checked the security footage from Celestia,” Phelps continued.  “It appears that the Lost Seraph did make it to the station, it also appears that Lieutenant Michael Harper was not who he told us he was.”
    “What do you mean?” the young man said.
    “On the video his says his name is David Garrett,” Phelps said.  “The brother of Seymour Garrett.”
    “You mean the famous terrorist that was arrested five years ago,” fat man said.  “I remember seeing that on the news.”
    “How do we know that he was telling the truth?” short-haired woman said.  “It could have all just been a show for the cameras.”
    “I suspected that as well,” Phelps said.  “I had my people do some extensive research on the man and we discovered that he was indeed David Garrett.”
    “You mean you hired the brother of a terrorist?” short-haired woman said.
    “I don’t transfer anyone to my department until they have already been hired by Olympus,” Phelps said.
    “But you sent him to Celestia?” she said.
    “I always expect every employee of Olympus to have already been through a careful screening process,” Phelps said.  “It wasn’t my fault that he wasn’t checked thoroughly enough.”
    “I hope you’re not suggesting that this is somehow our fault,” she said.  “Are you accusing the background check reforms that we introduced of not being sufficient?”
    “Calm down,” fat man said.  “I’m sure Dr. Phelps doesn’t care who’s fault it is, do you Dr. Phelps?”
    “Well it’s true that the background checks aren’t completely to blame,” Phelps said.  “This man didn’t just use a fake name, he used a fake place of birth and since he wasn’t born in Europe, nothing seemed suspicious to our computers.”
    “It can’t be that easy to infiltrate this company,” young man said.
    “This is a very large global company,” Phelps said.  “We hire and fire so many people a year that I’m not surprised it is possible for some to slip through the net.”
    “How long has Michael Harper or David Garrett been working for us?” fat man asked.
    “Almost five years,” Phelps said.  “He joined up not that long after his brother was taken to Celestia.”
    “So he’s been plotting to break him out all this time?” short-haired woman said.
    “What can I say?” Dr. Phelps said.  “Apparently he was a highly determined young man.”
    “I always thought Harper was a little suspicious,” fat man said.  “The way he was so eager to join the oneiroi.”
    “Apparently he killed the previous Phobetor in order to create an opening among the group,” Phelps explained.  “We all just believed he had taken his own life because of the manner in which the body had been found.  It wasn’t like it was the first suicide by Olympus staff.  Remember the previous Security Chief?”
“How did he even find out where his brother was taken?” fat man asked.
    “He had some help from a former employee,” Phelps said.  “On the tape he mentioned that a former technician informed him of Celestia’s existence.  Since there aren’t many of them and we keep very close tabs on all but one, I think I can deduce which one spoke.”
    “Who?” young man said.
    “Richard Thorpe,” Phelps said.
    “Him?” old man said, the name of Richard Thorpe woke him up.  “He’s been missing since his stint at Celestia finished 25 years ago, I thought he was dead.”
    “Well he is now,” Phelps said.  “His body turned up in Birmingham just under two years ago, apparently that was where he had been living all this time.”
    The old man started to cackle.  “Serves us right,” he said.  “I remember we searched for him for years all over the world and all the time he never left England.  It’s strange that a man can only be found when he’s dead.”
    “That explained how he knew about Celestia but how did he get a hold of the access codes?” short-haired woman demanded.  “I assume that those are still necessary to get into the catacombs?”
    “Yes they are,” Phelps said.
    “And the only copy of them is locked away in our Archives, correct?” she said.
    “Not anymore,” Phelps said.  “Garrett got access to our Archives over a year ago and made a copy of the Hypnos access codes.”
    “How could he do that?” she said.
    “It was during the time of the London riots,” Dr. Phelps said.  “We were distracted and all our guards were out in the city, making sure the riots didn’t reach us here.  When our headquarters were empty one ID card was used to access the Archives, it was that of Corporal Hilary Spencer’s but he had an alibi, he was on guard duty when the files were copied.  The only person who didn’t was Michael Harper, who turned up to work late, just after the incident.”
    “How could he have predicted the riots?” fat man said.
    “That’s because he was the one who orchestrated them,” Dr. Phelps said.  “I found out something else quite interesting from the recording, David Garrett is Mantis.”
    “I don’t believe it,” short-haired woman said.  “This man has to become our top priority, he is the leader of an anti-company terrorist organisation, he has five years experience working for us and he knows about Celestia.”
    “I agree,” young man said.  “He needs to be silenced.”
    “OK,” fat man said.  “Why exactly did he go to all this trouble to obtain access to Celestia, to get proof of it’s existence so he could show it to the world?”
    “No,” Phelps said.  “His brother was imprisoned there, he didn’t take any tangible evidence, all he took was Seymour Garrett.”
    “Good,” fat man said.  “All he has will be his brother, who was unconscious the entire time and the pod he was encased in, which isn’t exactly concrete.”
    “He won’t have real evidence but just the fact that he knows will cause a rumour to spread,” short-haired woman said.  “All of our men investigating the whereabouts of Mantis should be reassigned to tracking down and killing the Garrett brothers.”
    “Does everyone agree?” fat man said.  Every hand in the room was raised.
    “Good,” short-haired woman said.  “Will they be back on Earth already?”
    “They were supposed to arrive over two hours ago at cruising speed,” Phelps said.  “They’ve probably been on the planet for a while now, they could be anywhere on Earth.”
    “Our agents will find them eventually,” fat man said.  “At least Seymour should slow the pair down since it’s been over five years since he’s moved at all.”
    “Actually he will probably still be unconscious,” Phelps said.  “The first thing they need to do is find someone who can perform the slow process of reanimating Seymour.”
    “Even better,” short-haired woman said.  “That will narrow our global search.”
    “What did he do with the technician?” fat man wondered.  “I assume he didn’t take him with him as he was meant to.”
    “Garrett imprisoned him within the catacombs,” Dr. Phelps.  “I imagine he’s still there now.”
    “What of the tech he brought with him?” fat man asked.  “Is she in there as well?”
    “No,” Phelps said.  “She’s dead, Garrett shot her in the head.”
    “My goodness,” fat man said.  “Why would he choose to kill one and not the other?”
    “I’m not certain,” Phelps said.  “He seems unstable.”
    “Are we going to talk about the other security risk?” the young man asked the whole room.
    “What would that be?” Phelps said.
    “The techs,” he said.  “It has just been proven that they cannot be trusted to keep their mouths shut, they’re not true employees.”
    “I think that it’s safe to say that Richard Thorpe was an isolated incident,” Phelps said.  “He had history.”
    “Excuse me if I don’t want to trust your opinion on the matter,” young man said.  “I believe you were the one who once stated when Celestia was first constructed that it was impregnable?”
    “That’s a good point,” fat man said.
    “How does he know?” Phelps muttered under his breath.  “He wouldn’t have been born yet.”
    “What was that?” young man said.
    “Nothing,” Phelps said.  “What I actually said when it was first constructed was that there was a zero per cent mechanical probability for anything to go wrong with Celestia.”
    “What exactly does that mean?” young man said.
    “It means that from a design point of view, it was perfect,” Phelps said.  “But there was still the minute chance of a mistake being made that is impossible to correct for.”
    “Which is?” young man said.
    “Human error,” Dr. Phelps said.
    “What would you suggest we do to solve the problem of the technicians?” fat man asked young man.
    “Execute all former techs of Celestia,” young man said.  “It’s the only way to get rid of the possibility of ‘Human Error’.”  He said this while looking at Phelps.
    “You can’t do that,” Phelps said.
    “Why not?” he said.
    “It’s immoral,” Phelps said.
    “It’s only a few more deaths,” he said.
    “What of the many more to come?” Phelps said.  “All the technicians of the future?  You’d have to kill them too.”
    “No we wouldn’t,” he said.  “I think we should eliminate the position of technician of Celestia altogether, it’s clear that nothing is going to go wrong with Hypnos so we don’t actually need it.  In addition, this will also remove the risk of one of them talking and it will save the company the fortune that we pay out to each of them.”
    The moment he mentioned the fiscal benefit of his proposal, virtually every executive at the meeting began to nod their heads and make general noises of approval.  Even the old man, who had already dozed off again, seemed to nod in his sleep.
    “You can’t be serious,” Phelps said.  “These people have given a dedicated service to this company and have sacrificed their time, there’s nothing greater to give.”
    “We don’t need them anymore,” short-haired woman said.  “They’re all disposable.”
    “We still need future technicians,” Phelps said.  “Hypnos cannot be left on his own, it could have serious psychological ramifications and jeopardise Celestia itself.”
    “You’re faith in the humanity of Hypnos has always been misplaced,” fat man said.  “It is a machine, a tool and it has a purpose for existence.  It is property of the Olympus Corporation and will function as we desire until we decide he no longer has a purpose.”
    “Actually Hypnos is quite damaged at the moment,” Phelps said.  “The emergency access codes remove all his personality and free-will.  In this state he can’t adequately manage Celestia for very long.  It will take some extensive work to restore him to his former self, I recommend doing that as soon as possible.”
    “Let’s have a vote on doing away with the technicians for good,” young man said.
    “Very well,” fat man said.  “Show of hands.”  All executives raised their hands.
    “The motion has passed,” short-haired woman said.  “Orders will be sent to agents within the hour to execute the remaining former technicians left on Earth.”
    “This is murder,” Phelps said.  “It’s not an execution until it has been government sanctioned.”
    “I see no reason to inform them of this matter,” fat man said.  “It’s an internal problem and we will take care of it ourselves.  Parliament has never wanted knowledge of our actions in the past, why would they want to start now?”
    “I just had a thought,” young man said.  “We have a risk of the information regarding Celestia getting out, why not reveal it ourselves first?  I think we should consult Parliament on the construction of new penal facilities and bringing the entire matter into the light.”
    “The prototype has been operational now for 30 years,” fat man said.  “Maybe it is time to move forwards.  Alright, proposals will be sent to Parliament on the matter but until they agree Celestia must remain a secret and David Garrett is still a threat, as are the techs.”
    “Even Samuel?” Phelps said.
    “Who?” young man said.
    “The current technician,” Phelps said.
    “Well technically the trade-off has taken place and the current technician is that woman Garrett killed,” young man said.  “I assume though that you mean the one imprisoned in the catacombs?”
    “Yes,” Phelps said.  “Samuel Morgan, what of him?”
    “The motion has already been passed,” fat man said.  “He is a former technician and will be terminated along with the rest.”
    “I won’t do it,” Phelps said.  “This is barbaric, I refuse to give that order.”
    “You’ll do what you’re told,” young man said.  “If you don’t we can always find a Head of Science who will.”
    “There’s no need for threats,” fat man said.  “You know, we don’t have to ask you to do this Dr. Phelps.”
    “What do you mean?” Phelps said.
    “This is officially a military matter now,” he said.  “We don’t need you to order it.”
    “We just thought it would be nice for your department to clear up it’s own mess,” short-haired woman said.
    Dr. Phelps didn’t say anything, in fact he didn’t say anything else for the rest of the meeting, he just sat there, staring at the wall, not knowing what to do.
    “You should send the other two members of the oneiroi,” young man suggested.  “Order them to go to Celestia, they can personally gather any evidence that could be useful in tracking down Garrett and while they’re there, they can take care of Morgan.”
    “First thing’s first, we need to change the Hypnos Access Codes,” short-haired woman said to the sound of general agreement.  “And a DNA sample of David Garrett could be very useful if we could find one.”
    “We don’t have one already?” young man said.  “Why wasn’t one taken when he joined up?”
    “Because that’s still illegal,” fat man said.  “Parliament feels very strongly on that issue and I don’t think the laws will be changed anytime soon.”
    “We never take Union Law very seriously,” young man said.  “Why are we making an exception now?”
    “Because we couldn’t get away with it,” fat man said.  “We hire so many employees each year, it would be impossible to do it secretly without someone reporting us and we can’t lose the prison contract.  Parliament introduced these laws to prevent people from violating the human cloning laws.  There is no way around them.  The government is afraid that DNA of employees could be used in illegal genetic research without their knowledge.  They feel that their personal rights could be violated if the DNA samples were just used to obtain specific genetic material that we could want for experimentation.”
    “What about his brother?” young man said.  “If he was taken to Celestia then we must have his DNA, can’t we use that to determine whether we find any form of Garrett brother DNA in the future?”
    “We don’t have Seymour Garrett’s DNA on file,” fat man said.
    “Why don’t we?” young man said.  “Was a mistake made?”
    “We don’t have any DNA samples of the prisoners at Celestia,” old man said.  “It was never company policy to take one.”
    “Why not?” young man said.  “People being imprisoned have had a DNA sample taken and recorded as far back as the late 20th century.”
    “That’s because most of them were eventually going to be released,” old man said.  “We never needed the DNA of our prisoners, they weren’t meant to ever leave.”
    “Then I strongly recommend that we do so in the future,” young man said.  “Change company policy to aid us if something like this ever happens in the future.”
    “I agree,” fat man said.  “But we don’t need a DNA sample from Celestia.  Rather we should just send people to check out Lieutenant Harper’s home for his DNA.”
    “Do you really think he gave a real address?” short-haired woman said.  “I say we’ll have a better chance processing his locker to help the hunt.”
    “Very well,” fat man agreed.
“But there’s something I still don’t like,” short-haired woman said.  “Why are we trusting everything that was said on the Celestia recordings?  I don’t see the reason why he would just give us all this information so we didn’t have to work to find it all out, he must’ve known that he was being recorded.”
    “He probably knew that it didn’t matter,” fat man said.  “We can find out everything we need if we bother to look.  Also, perhaps he wanted to tell us, to gloat that one man could defraud a company as powerful as us.  We can use his pride against him.  Now, it’s late and I would very much like to conclude this meeting so we are all in agreement?  Agents will be sent to eliminate the Garretts and the techs, Parliament will be contacted to request their permission to expand the prison operation and Dr. Phelps will send what remains of the oneiroi to Celestia.  While they’re there, they could also use this time to repair the Hypnos computer.”
    As tears began to form around the brim of Dr. Phelps’ eyes, he could hear the fat man slamming down his gavel, making the decision final and saying, “Meeting adjourned.”