Amo learned to brand himself so well. He was afraid she was going to tell the truth about him, now they were political rivals. About how Don and Sophie really died."
Anna frowned. Don and Sophie now too? Witzgenstein was going all-in, it seemed. Get all the charges in, leave them a month or two to stew, then call a trial? It was transparently unfair.
"We all know how Don and Sophie died," Feargal said. "It's common knowledge. What can you tell us that is different?"
"He murdered them," Alan said.
The congregation gasped. Anna shook her head. Alan pressed on bravely. "She never told me until that night in Pittsburgh, but then it came out. He killed them then turned them into his legend. He's a sick man, and we have to do something. We can't let him rule anymore."
Feargal paled. Anna doubted even he had known this was coming. He was a good man, now co-opted into Witzgenstein's conspiracy. So she built her new consensus. Voices clamored in protest from behind Anna; she recognized Jake, Sulman, even Cynthia, which was good. There were others though, too, Witzgenstein's supporters, calling out 'For shame!'
Witzgenstein hammered her gavel and called them all to order.
Feargal licked his lips and pressed on, asking questions that built a fuller picture of Alan's fantasy. How had Amo killed them? Sophie by strangling, Don by purposefully siccing his zombie horde on them. Alan described how he'd used the comics to spread his false legend, because in truth he was a megalomaniac. He explained how Masako had seen him intimidate others countless times, forcing them by blackmail and threats to be silent, and how those same tactics had worked on her. He described how Amo and Cerulean had worked together to crush the free spirit of New LA, under the guise of setting it free.
Hearing it all laid out made Anna feel ill, plumbing deeper depths than she'd even guessed at. It was all nonsense, utterly baseless and without fact, but enough of it would stick that a smear would forever be on Amo's name from this day forward. She could feel the mood in the room changing. Alan's story explained things they'd never understood before; linking together true facts with gaps in the collective understanding.
Everybody knew that in some sense, their current predicament was actually all Amo's fault, stretching all the way back to origin of the apocalypse, with him and Lara in his New York tenement. Their union had triggered the end of the world; that was undeniable now. But Alan made it seem purposeful. He ascribed intent where there had been none, and in doing so he gave the people of New LA somebody concrete to blame for all their suffering, for so long.
It was all Amo. For ten long years, he had been the author of their pain.
Anna felt dizzy beneath the mass of 'evidence'. With Witzgenstein in the judge's chair, and Alan spinning out his story with anger and tears interspersed, they were riling New LA into a mob. Facts wouldn't matter if this kept up. Amo wouldn't be able raise his head to defend himself. This was a trial in the court of public opinion, and already she was losing.
At last they finished. Feargal announced other witnesses that had 'come forward' in the last fourteen hours, all seeking to have their testimony heard, and Anna was not a bit surprised. They were all Witzgenstein's supporters. Their stories would doubtless corroborate Alan's and heap on new charges to boot. Could the good people of New LA ignore so much testimony, even if it was suspect, even if there was no evidence?
She didn't think so. Root and branch. It had to happen now.
Her heart thumped. She remembered her Pacific crossing, standing in the yacht of the madwoman of Hawaii, and facing a similar choice.
"Thank you, Alan," Feargal finished. "I know this is hard for you. Anna, your witness."
She took her time standing. She looked at Alan then Witzgenstein, then she turned to the congregation, surveying them steadily. At last she spoke.
"This trial is
Anna frowned. Don and Sophie now too? Witzgenstein was going all-in, it seemed. Get all the charges in, leave them a month or two to stew, then call a trial? It was transparently unfair.
"We all know how Don and Sophie died," Feargal said. "It's common knowledge. What can you tell us that is different?"
"He murdered them," Alan said.
The congregation gasped. Anna shook her head. Alan pressed on bravely. "She never told me until that night in Pittsburgh, but then it came out. He killed them then turned them into his legend. He's a sick man, and we have to do something. We can't let him rule anymore."
Feargal paled. Anna doubted even he had known this was coming. He was a good man, now co-opted into Witzgenstein's conspiracy. So she built her new consensus. Voices clamored in protest from behind Anna; she recognized Jake, Sulman, even Cynthia, which was good. There were others though, too, Witzgenstein's supporters, calling out 'For shame!'
Witzgenstein hammered her gavel and called them all to order.
Feargal licked his lips and pressed on, asking questions that built a fuller picture of Alan's fantasy. How had Amo killed them? Sophie by strangling, Don by purposefully siccing his zombie horde on them. Alan described how he'd used the comics to spread his false legend, because in truth he was a megalomaniac. He explained how Masako had seen him intimidate others countless times, forcing them by blackmail and threats to be silent, and how those same tactics had worked on her. He described how Amo and Cerulean had worked together to crush the free spirit of New LA, under the guise of setting it free.
Hearing it all laid out made Anna feel ill, plumbing deeper depths than she'd even guessed at. It was all nonsense, utterly baseless and without fact, but enough of it would stick that a smear would forever be on Amo's name from this day forward. She could feel the mood in the room changing. Alan's story explained things they'd never understood before; linking together true facts with gaps in the collective understanding.
Everybody knew that in some sense, their current predicament was actually all Amo's fault, stretching all the way back to origin of the apocalypse, with him and Lara in his New York tenement. Their union had triggered the end of the world; that was undeniable now. But Alan made it seem purposeful. He ascribed intent where there had been none, and in doing so he gave the people of New LA somebody concrete to blame for all their suffering, for so long.
It was all Amo. For ten long years, he had been the author of their pain.
Anna felt dizzy beneath the mass of 'evidence'. With Witzgenstein in the judge's chair, and Alan spinning out his story with anger and tears interspersed, they were riling New LA into a mob. Facts wouldn't matter if this kept up. Amo wouldn't be able raise his head to defend himself. This was a trial in the court of public opinion, and already she was losing.
At last they finished. Feargal announced other witnesses that had 'come forward' in the last fourteen hours, all seeking to have their testimony heard, and Anna was not a bit surprised. They were all Witzgenstein's supporters. Their stories would doubtless corroborate Alan's and heap on new charges to boot. Could the good people of New LA ignore so much testimony, even if it was suspect, even if there was no evidence?
She didn't think so. Root and branch. It had to happen now.
Her heart thumped. She remembered her Pacific crossing, standing in the yacht of the madwoman of Hawaii, and facing a similar choice.
"Thank you, Alan," Feargal finished. "I know this is hard for you. Anna, your witness."
She took her time standing. She looked at Alan then Witzgenstein, then she turned to the congregation, surveying them steadily. At last she spoke.
"This trial is
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