I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Wordsmith, we need an answer. It’s a simple yes or no.”

“But he’s a friend, I can’t…”

“If you don’t do it, someone else will, and how will that make you look?”

Shit. I know I’ve got no choice. If I don’t perform John’s execution, I will appear as a sympathizer. They’ve already got their suspicions, and I’ve got to do something…

Shit.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Better a friend than a stranger.”

“That’s the spirit. Call me tomorrow at 2330, once you’ve completed your duty. And now, I bid thee farewell. My dinner is getting cold.”

“Yes, Chancellor.”

I salute. He leaves the room, a bounce in his step. For a moment I cannot move. I am numb.

What if I put myself out the airlock instead? No… Chancellor Hughes would still have John executed, and my suicide would be considered a sign of a guilty conscience.

The numbness ends and nausea replaces it, and I find myself vomiting in the Chancellor’s waste bin.

If he knew the truth, John wouldn’t be on death row.

Too late.