A Threat Among the Stars

by Mark Henwick

  “Ridiculous,” Eneko sneers. “No such evidence exists, because these allegations are false.”

  “If you have such evidence, in what form is it, and where is it?” Sánchez asks.

  Her heart skips. She has nothing with her, and still doesn’t know where Zara is.

  “The first part...” Hwa begins, but then the doors are pushed open and Mai Keo, wife of Senior Delegate Keo of the Xian delegation, enters. She looks as tired as everyone else, but her eyes gleam brightly.

  Everyone turns.

  “Madame Keo,” Sánchez greets her politely. “I’m afraid this is not an open session of court.”

  “No, it isn’t, is it?” she says, undeterred. “I’m not surprised, given this sort of evidence. Anyway, I’m here as legal counsel for the Xian delegation. I apologize for being late, it’s just that there is so much of this.”

  She stands to one side and directs Bureau of Justice clerks to carry four large plain boxes to the front of the courtroom.

  From the corner of her eye, Hwa can see the look on Sánchez’s face as he remembers that, although Mai Keo takes no official part in the normal running of the Xian delegation, her background is that of an extraordinarily successful inter-system lawyer, with experience on Earth as well as Xian’s planets.

  “What’s this?” Eneko asks with a sneer.

  “These contain original documents taken some time ago from the government archives held by the Bureau of Justice, as far as we can tell. I think if you examine the paper archives, Ministro Sánchez, you’ll find many of the supposedly official archive documents currently in the files are actually copies. Furthermore, I suspect the more incriminating documents are entirely missing from your archive. They are, however, to be found in these boxes.”

  “You’re admitting to stealing from the archives!” Eneko says.

  “Nothing was stolen by me,” Mai replies calmly. “And I’ve examined your own laws. I can’t find anything to say a document in the archives cannot be replaced with a copy, so there was no criminal conduct on the part of the person who did so.”

  “If you didn’t steal them, then where did you find these, Madame Keo?”

  “Gathering dust in the Belardia Library, where Zarate Aguirre hid them in plain sight. The girl’s a genius for that sort of thing.”

  The clerks have left the boxes right in front of the bench.

  Hwa lets Mai Keo take up the argument against Eneko for the moment, loudly summarizing the conspiracy within members of the government, the conspiracy with the Hajnal, murder, treason, fraud and theft on a systematic and massive scale. Eneko tries to shout her down.

  The case is still not quite strong enough, of course.

  The evidence they have collected from video recordings around Newyan are a condemnation of the behavior of the government, but simply not enough to get the Terran Council more involved. They’ll say it’s all a matter for the Enquiry and the Commissioners.

  The documents that Mai brought in aren’t enough on their own. Eneko is already claiming they’re forgeries.

  They need Zara here. They need those irrefutable data modules to interface with the Bureau of Justice’s official archive and reveal the undeniable extent of the conspiracy and the existence of the multi-planet Hajnal movement.

  But she doesn’t know where Zara is. What if she’s been caught by the Presidential Guard?

  Everything is sliding away, out of control. Alice and Raul are talking to her. Mai needs her help as Eneko’s voice gets louder and more insistent. Sánchez is banging his gavel to get them to sit down.

  She puts her hands over her ears.

  And a strange voice speaks to her. She is coming.

  “Hwa?” Alice says. “Are you all right?”

  She nods her head silently.

  Is this Morgen trying to tell her something?

  Meanwhile, Sánchez’s authority is in danger of collapsing.

  “These are forgeries! Patent forgeries!” Eneko shouts, hammering his fist down on the judge’s bench. “Being passed off as evidence right here in the Bureau of Justice by Xian spies and enemy infiltrators. Call the Guard in this minute! I demand their immediate arrest.”

  Even in the isolated heart of the Justice building, the sound of thunder that drowns out Eneko’s outburst makes it seem like the skies above Iruña have been torn in two. Everyone stops. Some people leap to their feet. Others grab things to steady themselves, believing it’s an earthquake.

  From the depth of knowledge she has from Shohwa, Hwa recognizes it. It’s the sound of a powerful ground assault skimmer arriving above Iruña.

  There’s a long electronic screech and the holo-projection flickers into life. Whatever has been jamming the communications into the building fails before the assault of military grade transmissions.

  Gradually, the head and shoulders of a figure in dark green uniform appears and fills the projection. He is pale, and even as a projected image, there is a sense of his anger exploding into the courtroom.

  “I am Duke Bleyd Aguirre-Tremayne,” he says, his voice low and grim. “Prime Minister and Commander of the Armed Forces of Kernow. I am here as part of the joint Xian-Kernow forces tasked with ensuring the safety of the relief convoy. And I am looking for my wife, Duchess Zarate Mirari Aguirre-Tremayne.”

  The main doors of the courtroom burst open.

  Chapter 67

  Zara

  Ranks of pale, startled faces turn toward me as the doors crash against their stops.

  Hwa is at the front bench, along with the Primer Ministro and others. Bleyd’s image is looming above the holographic projector, just at that moment speaking my name.

  Bleyd. Duke of Kernow. Prime Minister of Kernow. My husband. Not standing with me only in spirit. Not entrusting my safety to others. The man has abandoned everything to be here for me.

  A wrenching sense of joy makes my throat swell and my voice raw. I shout out “I’m here,” and hurry forward.

  The holograph cameras track Bleyd’s movement as he turns to look at me.

  I’m suddenly very aware of myself; if you don’t count swimming in the river, I haven’t washed since the high sierras, my clothes are torn and filthy and hanging loose on me. My cheeks are sunken. I probably smell of the sewers and I look like Kat did in Berriaren, a salt sea pirate just crawled out of the dirt.

  And immediately, I’m also aware that it doesn’t matter at all. He looks at me as hungrily as his wolf namesake, and some indefinable easing around his eyes tells me how much seeing me means to him.

  Neither of us speaks our hearts in front of others, but we don’t need to. We know.

  And in any event, spoken words would have been buried in a chorus from Loiola, Eneko and their officials, trying to get the clerks to throw me out of the courtroom.

  “The Duchess is an accredited representative of the Fortunate Stars Hong,” Mai yells.

  “And an accredited representative of the government of Kernow,” Bleyd adds, returning quickly to his business face.

  “What the nova has Kernow got to do with this case?” Ivakin asks Sánchez, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

  “Kernow defeated the Hajnal attack,” I reply. “Newyan needs help to do the same. I have ties to both and I have the proof for Delegate Hwa’s case.”

  “Not that Hajnal conspiracy theory again!” Taha says.

  Sánchez hammers the gavel until the shouting stops.

  “All of you! Sit down or I will have the sergeant clear the court. Sit! Except Zarate Aguirre. I wish to hear about this ‘proof’. Approach.”

  It takes ten minutes for the rest of them to retreat to their chairs. I lean against the bench. Without its support, I might just collapse on the floor.

  I can hear Hwa in my head. I can hear Morgen as well, hidden in some unused side room and protected by the Xian marines. I have to ignore them and focus on the man I need to convince.

  Sánchez looks as close to collapse as I am. His face is guarded. Hwa can’t read hi
m, and neither can I. I suspect he knows what I’m carrying and what it means for him, yet he’s letting the case continue.

  As silence eventually falls, he leans across the bench.

  “So... I know your grandfather had access to the Bureau of Justice systems,” he murmurs quietly. “Am I to assume this is the proof you carry?”

  “He created a complete copy of the Bureau of Justice’s government records, right down to the encryption. Every last statement and communication up to the point he made it. Proof of the Hajnal. You know what’s in there, Ministro.”

  Sánchez nods slowly.

  My grandfather always thought Sánchez was different to the rest of them. Dangerous and misguided, in my grandfather’s eyes, but not evil.

  “He would have used it himself, but for his reluctance about the earliest records,” I go on. “The records from Berriaren.”

  And of course, the small matter that he was murdered before he could overcome that reluctance. A decision that this man might have participated in.

  “And now we are past that reluctance,” Sánchez says with a sigh. “Everything has gone too far to be drawn back by any lesser revelation than the official archives.”

  “Yes.”

  “You know, of course, that Justinian will prevent you accessing certain interdicted records? And that the copies you have are encrypted in such a way that they only can be read by Justinian?”

  Justinian is the name of the Bureau of Justice’s computer system. It is a licensed AI, as powerful a system as exists out here in the Margin worlds, as far as they know.

  I feel Hwa and Xing stir in my mind, feeding me the response. “The records and the copies of the system are holographically stored and linked by quantum encryption. I rely on that linkage to be the proof that the records I will reveal are true. Without going into the details of how I intend to do it, I believe I can overcome the AI’s interdictions once the copies are connected to the system.”

  “And, always assuming you prove your case, what do you think you will do?” he says.

  We lock eyes. Grandfather always said Sánchez was the most intelligent and principled member of the conspiracy. Dare I rely on my grandfather’s judgment? Or has Sánchez been corrupted?

  I can’t lie.

  “Everyone concerned in illegal acts must face justice, according to the planet’s laws,” I say. “Everyone.”

  His head dips a fraction. “And in theory, after those parties are in prison? What will you do with the government and social fabric of Newyan?”

  “It is not up to me, Ministro. I’m not here as a conqueror. But in my opinion, the law must be applied as it should have been. Records must be cleared. Stolen assets returned. Those are the first steps.”

  “You may not think of yourself as a conqueror, but people will look up and see the military might that has accompanied this change, and they might draw a different conclusion.” He sighs again. “And after the restitution?”

  There’s a long moment of silence. I know what he’s saying. From what Danny has told me, the Xian marines control all the provincial capitals across the planet. Bleyd has enough to take over Iruña as well, but how would that be seen, and what would lie beyond? I’m well aware that some of the political reforms that Sánchez worked for are popular. Of course they are. Just as I’m well aware that a great number of the surviving Founding Families wouldn’t deserve to have their former standing in Newyan returned to them.

  What would my grandfather have done?

  He would never have worked with Sánchez.

  But maybe if he had, things would have gone a different way. I can’t afford the same mistakes. Not with knowing what is truly at risk.

  So... I need to get through to this man.

  How?

  He’s principled. He hasn’t done this for personal gain, but for the people he feels he represents. He’s done this for Newyan.

  And that’s our common ground.

  Aware of the pressure of the courtroom behind us, I need to speak.

  “Have you seen the reforms that my husband has been working towards on Kernow?” I ask.

  For the first time, a little light comes into his face. “I have been following those developments with great interest,” he says slowly. “Very great interest.”

  I continue, cautiously, “I will argue for those changes to be implemented on Newyan. There are differences, of course. Restitution of goods is a necessity of law, but looking forward, privilege and position must be a matter of a reward for merit and effort, and the procedures governing that set in an ongoing constitution for all citizens.”

  His eyes glint. “Easier to say than to do.”

  I nod. “I understand. I can’t undertake to impose new laws—I don’t have that power—but I feel sure that there’s support for these reforms, and an opportunity to implement them now. Possibly the last opportunity.”

  His expression clouds. I can feel him withdrawing. This man knows what happens in politics. “Still easier to speak fine words than to make fine laws,” he says.

  His glance flicks to the government representatives, Loiola and Eneko, behind me, and returns to me.

  They failed. Why should he trust me?

  “I swear,” I say, and then stop, my mouth going dry. I can feel the weight of Aguirres pressing in on me. Their ghosts surround me. My grandfather’s voice, cold and sibilant as the wind in the high sierras: once loosened, forever lost, he hisses.

  No, grandfather. I will swear, and I will speak my Name with pride, for it is a Name Among the Stars, and that will never be lost.

  “My name is Zarate Mirari Aguirre, and I swear on the Name of Aguirre, I will do my utmost to implement the reforms proposed by my husband on Kernow, here on Newyan.”

  “Ah.” His voice has become very quiet. His eyes close and he bows his head. He seems somehow a little shrunken at that moment.

  Then he touches his pad, and I feel the interface to the Bureau of Justice’s AI come to life behind me.

  “Present your data modules, Zarate Aguirre,” he says.

  Ignoring the calls and complaints from the other ministers, I turn to the AI system. The modules need only to be connected to the power rail for them to wake and connect with the system. It’s the work of a moment.

  The system’s avatar manifests as a holo-projection above it. Ironically, it’s the face of Xabat Abarran Aguirre which appears alongside my husband.

  “Four data modules connected,” Xabat’s avatar says.

  “Justinian, please confirm the contents of those modules,” Sánchez demands.

  “They are true and exact copies of the main archive, dated on the 14th October of last year.”

  That’s the first step, but now I need to appear to be controlling the system while Hwa and Xing get me inside. Ignoring the rising noise from the government officials, I place my hand on Justinian’s identification panel.

  It tingles as the system scans me and compares me to the database. There’s a long pause. This is as secure an identification system as they could make it. In addition to a retinal scan, which it has already done, it’ll look at my fingerprints and the patterns of blood vessels in my hand. Finally, it has similar technology to the seekers that the Syndacians used to hunt Kat. It will analyze the chemical composition of my sweat, and my breath, and the scent of my body.

  After a few hours in the labyrinth, that last analysis is not a pleasant thought.

  “I recognize Zarate Mirari Aguirre, of the Founding Family Aguirre,” the avatar says at last.

  Not Aguirre-Tremayne; the records have not been updated with my marriage yet, but I let that go.

  “Please confirm I am the eldest direct descendant of Xabat Abarran Aguirre.”

  “You are,” Justinian says.

  “On that basis, I claim full access rights under law AC057.”

  The eldest of any Founding Family has the right to query the Bureau of Justice’s system. That was laid down in law by the Founders—AC057 in the index.<
br />
  “Access denied.”

  That’s what I expected; the Hajnal have revoked the Founding Families’ access to all government systems. However, I was certain they hadn’t done it through proper legislation.

  “Identify the law that negates AC057.”

  Justinian is silent for a minute. “There is no law that negates AC057.”

  I’m not really cracking an AI with my logic. Hwa and Xing connected to Justinian as soon as it powered up, and they are ruthlessly digging deeper and deeper, much more efficiently than I can. I catch the barest echo of how quickly they’re working and it’s scary. If Justinian could feel emotion, it would be terrified now. In the first moments, it lost control of communications. Now, it’s losing control of its memory matrix. Through my connection with Hwa, I can almost hear the attack on the system’s underlying logic core, like torrential rain on a metal roof.

  That ‘noise’ is balanced by the increasingly loud agitation from the government’s side.

  Sánchez bangs his gavel, to no effect.

  Hwa slows down and I get a visualization of a series of questions to ask.

  “Justinian, confirm you are negating AC057 on the basis of a directive, identified as JGH7464.” Hwa has found the directive the Hajnal entered to lock out the Founding Families and prevent them from accessing government files. Luckily for us, they hadn’t enacted it quickly enough to prevent my grandfather from collecting his evidence.

  “You are correct.” Hwa is allowing Justinian to communicate with me as if he were operating normally. She is also keeping him from alerting anyone that he’s been hacked.

  “Is JGH7464 referenced in any laws?” I ask.

  “No.” And that, right there, was an admission that the directive preventing me access was illegal.

  I continue, “But your operation is circumscribed by law. Therefore you cannot operate the commands in directive JGH7464.”

  The system is silent. I doubt it’s processing my logical trap so much as trying to hold itself together under the assault from Hwa and Xing. We don’t want questions asked about where I am getting help from, so Hwa comes up with another suggestion.