Page 70 - Demo

“No more untruths. I am beginning to get frustrated with your games.” I invoked the last remnants of my judicial bearing, trying to firm up my voice and drill into him with my eyes.
“I am Lysander. Thrasymachus. John Brown. DuBois and Rawls. The hand that mocks and the heart that feeds. (Shelley, 1818) Whom watches the Watchman. The One who does not walk away, but runs toward Omelas. Towards Um-Helat. In your case, I think, Jesus of
Nazareth.” was his response, and he hung on every word. I had mustered all my arms and I could not land a single blow. Again I felt beneath the microscope.
“What’s your citizen code?” was all I could think of.
“B-P451.” his sombreness was cast off instantly like a heavy cloak, his terrible smile lighting up our whole shuttle.
“So... you’re a general then.”
“Yes. Was. Will be.” the shuttle dimmed again. “I was the fist of the Cooperative. Treating people like mere stones to be thrown out against the frontier. Insurgents and enemies of the people, terrestrial and extraterrestrial threats alike. It didn’t matter who or what it was, I was doing it for the common, the utilitarian, good.” he spat monotonically.
“And what would turn such a good man into this?” I asked.
“A good man? A good man! Would a good man do evil?” he replied.
“What evil could you do? It sounds to me as if any evil was done for the good of more
than it hurt.”
“Their lies have so blinded you that you do not know what you say.” he winced. Who could he mean? The legislators? The schools? The arcologists? My fellows?
As if reading my confusion, he smiled warmly, or at least attempted to. His dentition was unsuitable for kindness. No wonder he was selected for military work.
“Don’t worry about them for now. We’ll get to them.” he comforted. It wasn’t much.