2089. Miles M Hudson
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passion. The sifters had put together the show of audiopt feeds switching the point of view occasionally, so sometimes the woman’s view was shown and the audience could see Kendrick as she had. Increasingly sexual acts followed rapidly. The audience was not spared anything, as the feeds proceeded right through until Kendrick climaxed.
Mostly the lovers had been looking at each other’s faces: the KangaReview only briefly showed genitalia, as they had undressed. However, no secrets were maintained, the complete tryst was played out — everything that the audiopt feeds had picked up.
The images froze with a view through her eyes looking at the blue sky. Apart from a small area of his ginger head on the right hand side, a few treetops and a wisp of white cloud made the new placeholder picture a delightful scene to hang in the air above Lloyd Lloyd. He proceeded with the formal court proceedings. ‘Well, both George Kendrick and Marisa Leone are in the room today. And, as we all know, both are married to other people.’
The same voice called out, ‘For shame.’
Lloyd Lloyd raised his hand to ensure there was no further heckling. He had been Spokesperson of the Kangaroo for long enough to be able to run the show very effectively. Decisions got made, with appropriate contributions from the populace, and in good time. ‘We generally have a case of infidelity a little more frequently than once every six months and, during my office at least, our punishments have been fairly consistent. George, Marisa, do you have anything we need to hear? Any mitigation, or anything that the feeds maybe misrepresent?’
Circular spaces had been created by people retreating away from the two of them. It was as if each one stood in a spotlight. Both looked at their feet, and Kendrick responded. He spoke quietly, but the audience was silent so he was heard. ‘We had both had a bit of wine and lain in the sun for a while. We weren’t thinking straight.’ He finally invoked an apology to his wife: ‘I’m sorry, Jackie.’
Some of the crowd looked over to Marisa, whose curly locks hung around her head so her face was mostly obscured. Her head was bobbing up and down a little. She was nodding in agreement, but also crying at the same time. She said nothing.
‘Well, it’s an easy excuse.’ The crowd murmured in agreement with their Spokesperson. ‘And a common one. If it’s not hormones, adulterers always talk of drunkenness. Although usually we hear about both.’ The muttering agreements continued. ‘It might mitigate, but there really is no excuse. Behaviours like this threaten the harmony of our Kangaroo.’
‘Hear, hear,’ was called from the back of the room.
‘Jealousy leads to anger and violence. We have lived a peaceful life here long enough to know that it is what we want to continue, so we must punish those who would threaten that.’
‘Hear, hear,’ was repeated, but from nearer the middle of the room this time.
‘We have not seen these two causing any problems before, and we know them as fine citizens.’ Lloyd Lloyd paused, but nobody shouted support at this point. ‘The feeds show that they seem equally culpable. I propose that we deliver our usual punishment: ten days of reparations labour each. Are there any objections, or suggested amendments?’ The crowd buzzed as people spoke with their neighbours, but again nobody called anything out.
After he had given them ten seconds to consider, he continued, ‘OK, I don’t hear any alternatives being suggested, so can we vote now on the punishment, please. All those in favour of ten days’ reparations labour by Marisa for Jackie, please raise your hands.’ A roomful of arms filled the air. ‘So ordered,’ Lloyd Lloyd’s voice had become stentorian. ‘And now, hands up those in favour of ten days’ reparations labour by George for Jonty.’
As the crowd again voted unanimously, the decision was made that for sleeping with Jonty Leone’s wife, George Kendrick would have to work for the man for ten days. The work was for Jonty to determine, and would be administered by Lloyd Lloyd. Marisa would similarly atone for her crime through a penance of labour for Jackie Kendrick. The enforced labour, although determined by the victim, could not be dangerous, or demeaning. The punishments were reparation not retribution. Their aim was rehabilitation and reconciliation. Lloyd Lloyd would encourage the parties to spend some time talking together during the punishment, or afterwards if a victim’s emotions were too strong at the time.
As the audiopt feeds provided stark and damning evidence, it was rare for a criminal not to be chastened and shamed by the experience of their conviction in the Kangaroo court. The punishments were generally undertaken with enthusiasm. Above all though, the crimes themselves were only rarely actually criminal. Usually, the purpose of the town meeting and its punishments was to bring the community together. The consensus developed in Kangaroo meant that the residents generally lived in a peaceful harmony, committed to a common purpose, which in turn engendered strength against external threats.
The adulterous tryst was the highlight of the meeting. After that, the Kangaroo had to point out to arguing neighbours, who had come to blows over a boundary dispute, that sharing was the only acceptable solution. They received no further punishment than this censure.
Vicky watched her father smile at his coffee. She thought about where the line was drawn between sharing and ownership, and she wondered what might have ensued had George Kendrick claimed that in Highnam it was made very clear that sharing was the only acceptable solution. She looked at the ginger beard and the small, round eyes, and knew that the man would never dare to rock the boat like that. She fully expected that such ideas wouldn’t even occur to most of the villagers.
Chapter Three
After grandmother Ellie’s death, there was no one who knew Jack well enough that they would have been able to spot his strange behaviour in the build-up to his act of terrorism.
However, with the audiopt feeds recording everything he saw and heard, his preparations had been difficult and disjointed. He had travelled the escape route to the Leckhampton Hill bunker virtually, through his armulet — there had been no opportunity to check the escape plan in the real world.
He had practised making the bombs with random alternate ingredients, under the guise of trying to make cement for the cobbles in his little garden. And in collecting the actual incendiary ingredients, he had made every effort to gather them by touch out of his own sight.
As the audiopt feeds picked up only the electromagnetic waves generated by signals in the auditory and optic nerves, they could not read thoughts. Things outside the field of vision and hearing – tastes, smells and touch sensations – were not recorded.
Finally, Jack had twelve hours between shifts in which to make the real bombs, set them, and then cycle to Highnam to stash his rucksack and establish his alibi. He was not certain that his one shot at manufacturing bombs from scratch would actually work.
Jack’s fingers traced the outside of the rough hessian sack filled with homemade explosives. His blindfold stopped the audiopt feeds observing what he held. Most of the chemicals had been collected from abandoned warehouses or shops, and one he had dug out of the ground. Gathering them had not triggered any red flags in the pre-sifting algorithms of the surveillance network, as they were all innocent items individually. He smiled at the thought that he had been able to collect some of the electronic parts of the triggering system from the Doughnut’s own stores.
He got up from the wooden kitchen chair and carried the sack to join the others in the rucksack by the door. Jack was very familiar with moving around his house blindfold. Even before working on the plan to blow up his workplace, he had often worn a self-imposed eye covering in order to feel free from the audiopts’ ever-watchful supervision.
As he closed the pack, he felt a twinge in his stomach. He had completed the physical preparation of the bombs — he would soon destroy southwestern Britain’s audiopt network entirely and nobody would need to blindfold themselves to ensure their privacy. He whipped the cloth band off his face with a flourish and observed the apparently innocent domestic situation intently. ‘Ooh, look, there’s my table. And the stove with two pots. What a calm kitchen I live in.’