Everything went according to plan. Someone who wasn’t authorised accessed the hidden files, and the failsafe was activated. All the data they had gathered were leaked online to avoid a scenario where the Executives discovered all their work and destroyed it to keep the truth hidden. There was no going back now, and this was the intention from the very beginning. This was never going to be a stealthy fight but an all-out war.

Heretics was the title the opposition chose when condemning the actions of the rebel crew that dared defy the Order’s laws and not only observe but interact with the Infinites during their unsanctioned activities. But now, everyone had access to the data the heretics had collected over the years and could arrive at their own conclusions, not just what the ministries offered to the public.

Lead Executive Kalia’s name was the only one missing from all the records. As far as everyone was concerned, Kalia’s ministry was never involved in the operation. However, Kalia’s ministry quickly came out in support of the rebels’ actions. It advocated not only for their exoneration from all charges but for the immediate lift of the ban and the reallocation of funds into further observations of the Infinites. Unsurprisingly her ministry was the only one. Berson was presented as a victim of the true mastermind behind this operation; the conniving Executive Garjian. An adjective Sinethia’s ministry tried very hard to attach to Garjian’s title in the public’s mind, but Garjian’s fame and status gave them great difficulties, and they ultimately failed.

Berson’s ministry did not come out against Garjian’s investigation of the Infinites. While they condemned Garjian for lying to their ministry and misappropriating valuable resources, they remained silent on the matter of his investigation. They waited for the trials to start before announcing any judgement. The same course of action was followed by four of the seven ministries. The exceptions were Kalia, who supported Garjian, Sinethia and another ministry that advocated banning Garjian from the Order and demanding the exemplary punishment of cutting off his wings. Regardless, it was presented as if Garjian acted alone, recruiting everyone for his illegal operation, and he accepted the responsibility and blame for all the illicit activities he had undertaken.

The story was the number one subject in the news for a little over a galactic cycle. That is how long it took for all the data to be processed. All involved parties were officially charged with crimes against the Order, and court dates were finally set for all accused. The first member to face the Executives’ court was Ferikan, the newest recruit. The opposition saw her as the weakest link and knew that convicting her would set precedence and open the floodgates, assuring everyone was charged with the maximum penalty; exile from the Order and removal of their wings.

Everyone had assembled for the trial, and in a narrow, poorly lit corridor beneath the oval-shaped court stood Ferikan and Garjian. At one end of the long hallway was a locked door through which they had accessed the tunnel a few moments ago. On the other side of that door stood two guards. They waited to escort Garjian back to his cell once Ferikan took her place on the accused stand. Ferikan stared at the light that shone through at the other end of the long corridor, where she could see steps behind heavy metal bars leading up to the courtroom. The silence weighed heavy on her shoulders. She could sense the collective anticipation in the room above her, electrifying the air.

“Are you ready?” Garjian asked.

“As ready as I can be”, Ferikan turned and faced Garjian. She hated his sombre expression.

Does he not believe I can do this? Powers of creation, let it not be so. Otherwise, no one thinks I can do this.

Garjian removed a loose strand of hair off Ferikan’s shoulder while straightening the purple lapel. “To see you wearing this uniform for the first time…” Garjian took a long uncomfortable pause, holding back tears. “It’s a shame it had to be here,” his eyes began to well up.

Ferikan pulled him close and into her chest for a tight hug. She placed her arms around his shoulders and expanded her winds over him. Garjian was stunned but quickly returned the hug by squeezing Ferikan tightly around the waist and expanding his wings around her.

Ferikan kissed his forehead and placed her chin on his balding head. “I can’t do this alone, old-timer. I need you to believe in me.”

Garjian sniffled as he let go of Ferikan and wiped away his tears. He tried his best to mirror her sanguine expression. “I do, Ferikan. I really do. I wouldn’t have chosen you if I didn’t.” He placed a hand on top of one of Ferikan’s wings. “They will demand your wings, so don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you wearing them as they dictate.”

Ferikan formed a smile, relaxing her wings and letting them hang loose and slightly open, making her appear larger but more relaxed and friendlier.

“No matter what happens in that courtroom, Ferikan, remember what I told you. They will try to spout lies. They will aim to take away your pride and make you feel like everything is falling apart. When that happens, listen to your heart, retreat into your head, and trust the plan.”

A metallic cacophony of locks clicking, gears turning, hinges squealing, and bars withdrawing proclaimed they were ready for Ferikan to enter the courtroom. She faced the stairs and took a deep breath, trembling from trepidation for the trial ahead.

“Ferikan!” Garjian said sternly.

She turned and found him standing proudly, back straight, chest out and head high. “Bring me back a souvenir to remind us of the ruins you will leave behind.”

Ferikan nodded as she turned and began climbing the stairs.

The guards unlocked the door on the other side and waited for Garjian, who stared at Ferikan until she disappeared into the room above.

May the forces of the universe sway in your favour.

As soon as Ferikan walked up the stairs and into the courtroom, her breathing grew heavy and laboured. It was as if an invisible cloth enveloped her, and as she walked towards the accused stand, it wrapped itself around her chest and neck, restricting her breathing, twisting tighter with each step. The accused stand was like a podium, but wooden bars rose around it to just above Ferikan’s waist. The moment she stood inside the frame, she felt disoriented and unbalanced. She placed both hands on the rails and lowered her head to regain her bearings. She took deep, slow breaths, her eyes searching wildly, trying to identify the source of her discomfort.

The seven Lead Executives were sitting on high desks, looking down at the accused standing in the middle of the oval-shaped room. Kalia was on the far left, Berson on the far right, and in the middle sat Sinethia, leading the procedures. The Leads took half the room, while the other half was filled with chairs at the same level as the podium in the centre. Seven triangle sections were marked with railings, one for each ministry, and fifteen members of each ministry occupied the seats. The triangles were positioned so that each Lead Executive could fully view their ministry across from their high desk. As the trial went on, anyone who wanted to support the accused was expected to stand. If the majority of a ministry stood, then the Lead Executive had to stand as well, showing everyone that their ministry supported the accused.

Ferikan tried to lift her head and face the Lead Executives but felt her entire body tilting backwards. She leaned forward and grabbed at the railings once again. Her hands turned cold, and her feet sweated.

Run! Run!

She planted her feet hard into the wooden floor and tried to look up at the Leads once again, but her mind recoiled and screamed. Her heart pulsated frantically, looking for a way out of her chest. She felt lightheaded, and the world turned dark for a second. She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. She opened her eyes and stared at her feet.

Is the floor tilted?

She focused on her ankles and the floor.

It is. The accused stand is slightly tilted backwards.

She braced herself and looked up. There was no doubt that the floor had a slight incline, and Ferikan quickly deduced the purpose of this devious design.

Sinethia was looking down at her like a predator cornering its victim. Ferikan felt small, like prey, backed up against a wall, cowering in fear at the great threat that loomed over her. The court presented the case against Ferikan in lengthy detail for two hours before finally addressing Ferikan.

“How do you plead?” Sinethia asked.

“Guilty,” Ferikan’s response was immediate, automatic, rehearsed.

Sinethia was taken aback, and the room filled with murmurs. She expected an easy win, but she never anticipated a surrender. She banged her gavel on the wooden desk several times until the courtroom fell silent.

“The accused has pleaded guilty. As it is customary, she is allowed to address the council directly if she desires, and her plea will be considered when deciding on the appropriate punishment for her crimes.”

Ferikan tightened her hands. Her nails scratched against the wooden railing. Pain shot up her nervous system as the edges of her fingernails bled, shocking her brain back to life.

“This farce of a procedure has been ongoing for nearly one galactic cycle,” Ferikan began with a hoarse voice.

Everyone’s shock was audible in their last sharp breath. Yet, none of them uttered a single word. Proper etiquette bound them all to silence.

“In all that time, did you once look at the data of our mission?” Ferikan lifted her head up and glared at Sinethia.

“Of course I did, and there was nothing there. Nothing of importance, anyway. Other than the waste of precious Order resources.”

“You’re either a terrible data analyst or lying, Sinethia. And we all know you started out as a data analyst.”

“How dare you acc--”

“No, Sinethia!” Ferikan banged her hands against the stand. “How dare you lie to everyone? Did I not receive a message when I first linked with the female Infinite?”

Sinethia formed a wide smile. “Your brain thought it received a message. All the data recorded is a perception, not necessarily an actual transmission. And that can be verified by looking at the energy transactions. They are zero. There was nothing actually there, only your perception.”

“For how long did I perceive the message?”

“What?” the question caught Sinethia by surprise.

“The activity of my brain perceiving the message, what was its duration?” Ferikan’s tone remained harsh.

Sinethia looked at her notes. “It says here it was only for a second.”

“And how long was the message I received?”

“What kind of silly question is that?”

There was only silence.

“Well, obviously, it was for a second,” Sinethia added.

“Was it?” Ferikan almost growled. “Play the message my brain interpreted for everyone to hear, and note its duration.”

A few seconds elapsed as the clerk searched for the recording.

Tick.

Tick. I love you. Tock. Tick. Don’t ever let go. Tock

Tock.

“The clock in the background clearly marks the passage of a single second, yet the message I heard lasted two seconds.”

All etiquette went out the window as murmurs rose like a tsunami and flooded the courtroom.

“How was that possible?” Ferikan began shouting, partly from rage, partly to be heard over all the noise. “Time dilation, that is how. Even if my brain perceived a message not there as you claim, Sinethia, I can’t have perceived a two-second message during a one-second time window.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Nothing but a wild hypothesis. Because your ban on the Infinites bars me from conducting proper research. It could very well be nothing. Or perhaps, the Infinites have access to a third dimension. A dimension where time works differently. Even more extraordinary is the claim that the Infinites seem able to access this dimension through memory alone. Either way, you cannot deny something is interesting in the data. But you’re afraid to let us investigate it further.”

Two chairs scraping against the hardwood floor echoed as Lead Executives Kalia and Berson pushed their chairs back and stood up, revealing their ministries stood in support of Ferikan.

“You spout warnings of bodily harm and demand my wings, but I do not fear your empty threads,” Ferikan continued. “If impermanence is a law of the universe and our Order, then your prohibition directly contradicts one of our most sacred laws. You are the heretics for supporting a ban that stands against that immutable law of impermanence.”

The room fell silent once again, and Ferikan paused. She took a deep breath and continued in a softer tone as if she was almost begging her fellow members of the Order.

“When did we become so averted to being wrong? When did we grow so scared of making mistakes? Mistakes are life’s best teacher. It is the only way we learn. We study, guess, examine, confirm or disprove and move on. This has always been our way. When did we start being against research? Being wrong is part of discovery.”

A third Lead Executive now stood, showing her ministry’s support of Ferikan.

“A great philosopher once said, everything is change, and nothing can be held on to. You can’t hang on to the world as it is now. You don’t even have to try not to hang on to the world you experience today. It can’t be done, and that is salvation. That is impermanence. Yet here we are, trying to impose a law to stop the world from transforming, from progressing.”

Two more Lead Executives stood, signalling that five out of seven ministries now supported Ferikan.

“I understand that many of you are worried about what the data could mean when it comes to this creature that lies in the other dimension,” Ferikan raised her voice again. “But even if there is a god on the other side of that interdimensional bridge,” she pointed behind her without turning her body. “Don’t you think it’s about time we crossed over, put a hand out for a handshake,” she brought her hand forward and extended in for an imaginary handshake with Sinethia, “and introduced ourselves?”

The brief silence that followed Ferikan’s last words was interrupted by yet another chair being pushed back. The sixth Lead Executive reluctantly and slowly stood up, revealing that his ministry supported Ferikan. Only Sinethia remained seated.

Sinethia’s gavel banging against the desk three times brought life back into the room. “The trial is adjourned. The Lead Executives will deliberate on Ferikan’s judgement, and we will let you all know when the trial will reconvene to announce our decision.”

The Lead Executives walked out of the courtroom from a small door directly behind Sinethia. As they walked out, Berson gave Ferikan a proud smile. Kalia was the last executive to exit. She ignored all protocols and risked a direct telepathic message to Ferikan with a slight nod before walking away.

“Well done, Executive Ferikan, well done.”

The End.