Ashes of the Fall by Nicholas Erik Page A

my plans, Lucas, but you will provide an excellent mechanism for this nation to move forward and believe in my vision. So I must thank you.”
    Thing is, I was most upset about him calling me Lucas. That’s not my name.
    The video screen buzzes on in the trial booth, and the magistrate judge appears, dressed in somber robes, bearing an equally somber expression.
    “Luke Stokes,” he says, reading from a sheet before him, “you have been charged with conspiracy to assassinate a public figure, illegal possession of technology, assault of an Inner Circle official with a prohibited weapon, murder of an Inner Circle official, and identity fraud. How do you plead?”
    “Not guilty,” I say with an edge of defiance. I want to sit down, but there’s no place in the booth to do so. It’s only three feet wide, with a curtain behind it. Rumor has it, these used to be voting booths—before voting became a rather antiquated notion, like all the technology that wasn’t Circle stamped and approved. Now people can vote for their local government puppet candidates from the HoloNet.
    “Having reviewed the evidence found at Matthew Stokes’ residence, as well as the testimony of Ms. Olivia Redmond, I have determined that you are guilty of four of the five charges.”
    So much for mounting a defense.
    “It is clear that you murdered your brother, a truly ruthless act, and impersonated his identity for your own personal gain as well as to further your personal agenda to assassinate the Chancellor. A review of the stolen HoloBand’s tracking locations gives a clear picture of your associations with members of known terrorists. Witness testimony from Agent Sten attests that you were acting strangely, and a bartender remembers you falsely identifying yourself when he requested positive identification. He also testified to your association with a known member of the Lionhearted.
    “Furthermore, Ms. Redmond’s sworn statement indicates that you threatened her with the very firearm that you used to kill your brother, all in a desperate attempt to coerce her into joining your ill-fated scheme.”
    “He killed himself,” I say.
    Ignoring me, the judge continues, “However, I cannot charge you with illegal possession of technology. While Ms. Olivia Redmond testified that you claimed to be in possession of a 2.5” solid state drive, a search of Matthew Stokes’ residence turned up no such drive. While the forged note you wrote in a facsimile of Matthew Stokes’ hand—found on your person—alluded to the existence of such a drive, no physical evidence of a crime was recovered. As such, that charge was dropped.”
    “How magnanimous of you.”
    “May I remind you, Mr. Stokes,” the judge says with gravitas, “that this is a court of law, and I will find you in contempt should you not show it proper respect.”
    “Sure thing, Your Honor.”
    There’s a look of intense disgust from the judge. Then, a horrible jolt of pain, starting from the base of my neck, surges through my spine, like I’ve stuck a fork into a wall socket. Crumpling to the ground, instantly in a cold sweat, I convulse until the tremors stop.
    “A new HoloBand has been installed in your neck, Mr. Stokes,” the judge says. I can’t see him, only hear his condescending voice. “One equipped with certain additional features, should you step out of line before your planned execution.”
    Pit in my stomach, I realize that, for once, I’ve given Chancellor Tanner something more powerful than propaganda: the truth. A plot to take down the government, in conjunction with Lionhearted forces. Murdering my own brother to get close enough to execute it all.
    The picture just shows how ruthless the Lionhearted and every other source of opposition are—and why they must be stopped.
    And really, how fair the Circle is in comparison—after all, they didn’t have evidence to convict me on the charge of the drive, so they dropped it.
    “You are dismissed,” the judge