The Last Dance

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The Last Dance Page 41

by Martin L Shoemaker


  “At first I was struck dumb at his arrogance. At last I answered, ‘We cannot accept that, Nick. Others in the organization might not approve of your standards. They might find them too harsh, and they would never vote to support them.’ I couldn’t imagine his standards ever being too lax.

  “Aames stared at me, a satisfied sneer on his face. ‘That’s what I thought: for you, it’s about voting, it’s about politics. It’s not about outcome and results, it’s about consensus and protecting members. Your certifications won’t be worth spit. Pass, Gale.’

  “I reached my limit. I stopped trying to persuade him, and I fell back to arguing. ‘What, so we’re all supposed to trust you?’

  “The sneer remained on Aames’s face. ‘Hell, no. Trust the data. Trust your team and their training and their eyes on-site. I’m not the one who thinks it’s smart to let spacers certify themselves. I think that will end up no better than we have now, but with more layers of trouble in the way. But if you want me to trust your standards, then you start by trusting me.’

  “‘And who designated you the authority?’

  “‘You did, when you decided you could use me for publicity. My name, my reputation, my visibility, those come with a steep price. If you really need me, you’ll pay it. But you’re not ready to, so count me out. It’s not like I need you.’

  “My anger grew, and I found it hard to control my words. ‘Someday, Aames, you’ll find that you don’t run everything.’

  “‘Fine with me, Gale. When that day comes, somebody better will be in charge. But it sure as hell won’t be you.’

  “I was furious. I wanted to break something. But I calmed myself, and I thought of one more tack to try. ‘Maybe you do need us, Nick. And maybe you have another price. If you were part of the Space Professionals, you would have our backing. We could maybe get you out from behind this desk, and back in command of a mission, where you belong. And this time, with a qualified SP crew, maybe the results would be different.’

  “Nick’s stare turned cold. ‘Gale, get out.’

  “‘What?’

  “‘Get out before I kick your teeth in. When I get out from behind this desk, it will be my doing, on my terms. Don’t you ever think you can buy my support.’

  “And that was the end of our discussion. I swiftly got out of his office, for fear that he might really attack me. I’ve met with him occasionally since, and he has only gotten worse. I hesitate to diagnose without a license, but he strikes me as having narcissistic personality disorder. The man’s ego knows no limits. And he draws in good people—like his second-in-command, Chief Carver, a fine officer back in the day—and he leads them down the wrong path. They become just like him, no good for ordinary duty.”

  “Thank you, Chief,” I said. Then when Gale had nothing to add, I lay in silence and thought about what he had said. I had heard stories about Aames’s arrogance, of course, but never from someone who knew him so well. I wasn’t sure I was ready to meet the infamous Captain Aames.

  I still wasn’t sure I was ready, but I could see no more excuses for putting it off. I pulled open a call to Matt’s office. “Matt, please inform Captain Aames that it will be my pleasure to depose him in half an hour.”

  14. AN IMMODEST PROPOSAL

  FROM THE MEMOIRS OF PARK YERIM

  10 JUNE 2083

  The door to Matt’s office opened, and Captain Aames walked into mine as if it were still his own. Ignoring me, he strode over to the sink, poured himself a glass of water, and took a long drink. Then he poured another, walked over to the guest chair, and gently dropped into it. Finally he looked at me. “Good afternoon, Park.” He took another drink, and then raised his glass in my direction. “Best water on the ship. I clean the filters personally. I hope you’re enjoying my work.”

  From that point forward, Aames’s eyes never left me. He didn’t look at the desk, nor the e-reader on it, nor even the giant view window behind it. He didn’t glance once at the São Paulo door. He kept his gaze on me, studying me like I was his next test subject.

  Matt came in behind Aames, pushing an extra desk chair; and behind him came Chief Carver. The chief stood at attention behind the chair.

  I frowned. “Chief Carver, I didn’t request you for this deposition.”

  Before Carver could answer, Aames did. “I asked him here, Park. I’m entitled to counsel of my choice at this deposition. Protocols, chapter 11, section 3. I choose Carver.”

  I shook my head. “He has a conflict in this case. Depending on my findings, he could end up as a defendant right alongside yourself.”

  Aames laughed, a dry, scornful sound. “And who on this ship doesn’t have a conflict? The Admiralty staff? They want my hide nailed to a wall. My crew? My passengers? There’s not a one of them who could be any more objective than Carver. Surely you’re not suggesting one of your own staff?” I shook my head, and he laughed again. “I would be happy to postpone this whole business until we reach Mars, so we can find some independent counsel—assuming you can find someone there who isn’t backing one side or another in this affair—but I had the impression that Knapp was already fuming about delays. If you try to put him off for another four months, he’ll find some excuse to get you removed. So no, Park, I think the smart thing to do would be to allow me the counsel that I choose: Chief Anson Carver. He has an exemplary record, and he’s more than qualified to serve as counsel. If he has a conflict at all, it’s against me. If I don’t object, I don’t see why you care. So let’s continue.”

  I was flustered. In less than one minute with Aames, I was in danger of losing control of my own investigation. I looked at Chief Carver, and he looked back with a pained expression. I would get no help there.

  But I still knew the regulations. I looked back at Aames. “Captain, I must insist that you have counsel that—”

  Aames interrupted, “‘Counsel that can zealously pursue my interests in an adversarial court or investigation.’ Protocols, chapter 11, section 3, sub A. And my response is: Protocols, chapter 11, section 3, sub D, ‘Any subject deemed mentally competent may waive the right to claim incompetent counsel as part of any future appeal.’ I so waive. If you’ll check with Dr. Baldwin, my most recent psych evaluation shows me to be as competent as I ever was, so my waiver is valid. You’ve done your job to protect my rights, Park, and now I expect you to accept my choice of counsel and get on with this. Carver, sit down already.”

  Again I looked at Carver. He remained standing at attention, no longer looking at me. I sighed and tried to regain control. “Lieutenant Harrold, please take your seat and start recording.”

  “Yes, Inspector.” Matt sat and opened his comp. “Recording, Inspector.”

  “Very well. Deposition of Captain Nicolau Aames in the matter of The System Initiative v. Captain Nicolau Aames. Questioner for the Inspector General’s Office: Inspector General Park Yerim. Court Reporter: Lieutenant Matt Harrold. Appearing as counsel for Captain Aames, under waiver as per Protocols, chapter 11, section 3, sub D: Chief Anson Carver. You may be seated, Chief.” Carver sat, and I turned back to Aames. “Now Captain Aames, for the record, your waiver please.”

  “Really?” Aames asked. I nodded. “Very well. I, Captain Nicolau Aames, have been advised by the Inspector General’s Office that my choice of counsel, Chief Anson Carver, does not meet their standards of competence or objectivity. Under Protocols, chapter 11, section 3, sub D, I waive my right to future appeals on the grounds of incompetent counsel. Harrold, attach my psych profile from the latest records to confirm that I am competent to make this waiver.”

  Matt looked at me, and I scowled at Aames. “Reporter, attach the captain’s psych profile. Captain Aames, I remind you that I’m running this deposition. You shall refrain from instructing the reporter. Continued disrespect of this office and its procedures may open you up to contempt charges.”

  “Contempt?” Aames laughed again. “Of course I have contempt! Oh, not for you, Park. My people tell me you’re pretty dili
gent and scrupulous. Carver speaks very highly of you, and I trust his judgment.” I looked at Chief Carver, and he winced. “But face it, this deposition is a joke. You already know all the facts in this case, and all the events surrounding it. You can drag this out from here to Mars, but nothing you learn is going to change what you already know. Make your decision now, and save us all a lot of time.”

  I stood up, so angry I practically flew into the air, catching myself on the desk only at the last instant. “Captain, that is enough. I will not have you or anyone else telling me how to do my job.”

  As I got angrier, Aames seemed to grow calmer. “I’m just trying to save us all a lot of time here. I can see what’s going to happen. Like it or not, you could spend years asking questions aboard this ship, and you wouldn’t learn anything new that would change the basic facts. Sooner or later you’re going to have to make a choice; and when you do, some are going to accuse you of following orders. And you won’t be happy, either: no matter what you choose, you’ll choose it under pressure. But maybe if I cut through all the crap and lay out your choices, you’ll be smart enough to tell truth from bullshit. That will take some of the pressure off you.”

  I was growing so furious, I didn’t dare speak. I was sure I would explode. While I hesitated, Aames took another drink and then continued, “I disobeyed unlawful orders. The Admiralty insists those orders were lawful. They will demand that you accept them as such, in which case you will have no choice but to find grounds for a court martial. You will then have to empanel a court, and thirty minutes later, that kangaroo court will find me and my command crew guilty of all charges. So if you bow to their pressure, we’re all facing long prison terms. And you’ll be giving control of the Aldrin to the people who tried to destroy her so that they could control Earth-Mars traffic. Oh, and you’ll find this ship in the middle of passive resistance at best. My people might even openly revolt, I can’t say for sure. But regardless, this ship won’t meet our contractual obligations without my crew actively doing their jobs. Don’t think for a second that Knapp and Gale and their crew can run this ship. There’s not enough of them to even try. And if they try to force my people to work, that will get ugly. So one way or another, this ship will fail as a platform for Earth-Mars commerce. And that will be fine with Holmes and Knapp, since they have their fast boats ready.”

  Aames pointed a finger at me as he went on. “Or you can do the smart thing: clear us of all charges. You know you should. But if you do, the problems aren’t going to go away. Knapp will shout so loud, they’ll hear him back on Earth. He’ll accuse you of being unduly influenced by me and my crew. And even if Reed backs you—I think he will, Reed’s a fair man—Knapp and his cronies won’t let go of their power so easily. Oh, they can’t make trouble here, today. We still retain control of this ship, for all practical purposes. We’re permitting your investigators and the admiral’s team to wander around at will, but we really don’t have to.” Aames grimaced. “After what Gale did on the I Ring, I wonder if that was wise at all. Never mind now, though, the key thing is Knapp has tipped his hand, and I don’t expect him to give up now. He’ll find another way to seize this ship eventually, and that will still cripple Earth-Mars trade.”

  I turned Aames’s arguments over in my head, but it was difficult to think. He had irritated me so thoroughly, I couldn’t keep the facts straight. So I concentrated on his last remark. “I can’t do anything about what Knapp might do in the future. I can only deal with the facts in the record today.”

  At that, Aames smiled. It wasn’t a sign of humor, it was a predator about to pounce. “Ah, but that’s what you can do. What you must do, Inspector: prevent the takeover of the Aldrin, permanently. It’s the only answer.”

  “What?” I couldn’t see what he was talking about.

  “Inspector, you’ve seen how this ship functions, the crew and the officers and the passengers. You’ve seen us pull together in adversity. You’ve seen our institutions, our growth plan. Is there any doubt that the best word to describe us is community?” My eyes widened as I started to see where Aames was heading. “And on 7 March, we received orders that threatened our viability as a community. Prior to 23 April, there was an attempt to blockade supplies necessary to our survival. And on 9 May, we were directly threatened with destruction. We have clear grounds—”

  This time it was my turn to interrupt. “Clear grounds to file for recognition as an independent political entity under the precedents established by the United Cities of Free Luna.”

  Aames nodded. “You have plenary power, Inspector. Protocols, chapter 12, section 1. You can issue any finding that resolves this case and doesn’t violate the fundamental rights of any individual or group.” Aames swiped his comp and pushed a file to my desk. “That’s an analysis by Comptroller Lostetter, confirmed by two separate auditing firms. This ship is fully self-sufficient and able to repay all investors over time, including a better-than-market return on investment. We also have the ability to meet all debts and obligations and maintain future operations. We meet every criterion necessary under the free cities precedent for you to declare us an independent city-state retroactive to 7 March. You do that, and then you can find that every action we took since then is legal.”

  My head spun. Suddenly I heard the phrase I had heard so many times before: manipulative bastard. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Completely,” Aames answered. “Oh, there will be thousands of minor claims to be adjudicated, but the courts can handle those. Again, there are plenty of precedents. It’s all straightforward once you put in place the framework. So there’s your choice: let us get back to work and run our ship, and tell the Admiralty and the Initiative they’ve got no business trying to run things here.”

  I glared at Aames. “So that’s it? I just give you what you want, more than you had before, with no compromise?”

  Aames leaned forward in his chair. “If compromise means I’m going to sit and listen while Knapp or you or anyone not part of this community tells me how wrong I am, then no, we’re not going to compromise. If it means any harm to this community, any chance of breaking it apart, then hell no.”

  Aames stood from the guest chair. “Park, I’ve shown you your choices. There aren’t any others. Come see me when you decide to be sensible.” He turned, crossed the room, and left through the São Paulo door. It slid shut behind him, and I stared at it, openmouthed.

  15. EX PARTE COMMUNICATION

  FROM THE MEMOIRS OF PARK YERIM

  10 JUNE 2083

  I sat behind the desk, trembling, barely controlling my rage. I had trouble gathering my thoughts. That infuriating man, Aames.

  Carver looked at me, his face full of sympathy and apology. “I’m sorry for my client’s behavior, Inspector, and that he was so disrespectful. He can be a little difficult.”

  “A ‘little’ difficult?” I snorted. “And we’re on a ‘little’ trip to Mars.” Carver smiled at that, which calmed me down a bit; but I was still agitated. “He admitted to contempt of this office.”

  “Objection,” Carver interrupted. “He expressed respect for you and your work. His contempt was for this investigation.”

  “Is there a difference?” I saw Carver’s point, but I wanted to stay angry. “I can have him locked up for that.”

  “You can, Inspector. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. But it wouldn’t make your job any easier. You’d still face the same two choices.”

  “Two choices? And what about his third?”

  Carver laughed once. “That one’s audacious even for Nick—I mean, my client. It’s also pretty creative. If I were so bold as to offer my advice to the IG Office, I would recommend giving it serious consideration. I think it’s the best possible outcome, even granted my self-interest. But truthfully, I’m glad that it’s not my place to decide. I don’t envy you this responsibility.”

  “Thank you. But there’s still the matter of your client’s contempt.”

  “Yes, Inspector,
I would like to plead on my client’s behalf.”

  I nodded. “And what is your plea?”

  Carver smiled sheepishly. “I don’t really have one. I never prepared for this. I suppose I should have, knowing my client. Once he sees a solution to a problem, he has no patience with further discussion. So I can only plead for the mercy and indulgence of the Inspector General’s Office.”

  I smiled back. Though I had wanted to cling to my anger, Carver was lifting my spirits. And that was letting me think more clearly about what was essential, and what was just getting in my way. “I suppose I could summon guards and throw him in the brig, but why bother?” I nodded toward the São Paulo door. “He locks himself in there all day anyway. Reporter, strike everything after Captain Aames left. This deposition is concluded. End recording. You’re dismissed, Chief Carver. You, too, Lieutenant. I need to think.”

  Again Carver saluted me. This time I was ready, and I smartly returned the salute. Then Matt, seeing Carver’s example, saluted as well. I saluted him back, and they both left the office.

  When the door slid shut behind Matt, I once again sat alone in the all-black office. With all the forces arrayed around me, all the thoughts swirling in my mind, I appreciated the darkness. It gave me calm, focus. “Lights, off.” The room lights dimmed to nothing, and the only light came from the desk. “Desk, sleep.”

  The desk dimmed as well, and I sat in Aames’s chair, surrounded by darkness. Was this how he spent his time? His world was so black and white, all right answers and wrong. Was this his way of shutting out the world, all the people whom he despised for disappointing him? Was this how he hid from it all?

  But as my eyes adjusted, I realized I wasn’t in total darkness. A shadow moved upon the desk: a shadow of me, cast by a dim light behind me. I turned and looked at the giant window on the rear wall. The sun was somewhere to my right, beyond the window’s edge, so it wasn’t the source of the shadow. No, the light that cast that shadow was from a million stars strewn across the window from edge to edge in an irregular band. Since IGs aren’t expected to be explorers, I had had only a basic astronomy course; but even I recognized the Milky Way.

 

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