by Mike Resnick
“One capable of proving them insane beyond the shadow of a doubt?” asked Stuart with a smile.
“That's right.”
“You have a long-overdue leave coming to you, I believe,” said Stuart. “Why don't you consider yourself on furlough as of this moment? When you report back in a month, I'll have your first assignment for you.”
“I've already chosen my first assignment,” said Becker.
“Oh?”
“I was assigned to defend Captain Jennings. I'd like to do so.”
“You've got it,” said Stuart. “Your leave begins when the trial is over.”
“You'd better take the bugs out of his hospital room,” continued Becker. “I intend to discuss his case very frankly with him.” He paused. “I don't want you to have to shoot any of your people who happen to be listening in.”
“It'll be done by tomorrow morning.” Stuart got to his feet, walked around his desk, approached Becker, and extended his hand. “Welcome aboard, Major.”
Becker stood up and stared at Stuart's hand without taking it.
“Is something wrong, Major?”
“There's plenty wrong,” replied Becker. “You tried to kill me and publicly humiliate Jennings for doing our jobs well, and you incarcerated and planned to kill Jaimie Nchobe for the crime of helping me to stay alive. I'm not joining you because I approve of you and your policies, Colonel. I'm joining you because it's about time somebody voiced an opposing viewpoint around here.”
“Major,” said Stuart calmly, “I really couldn't care less what you think about me or my methods. I'm doing a job that has to be done. Hopefully things will turn out well, and all my efforts will prove to have been unnecessary. But if it should turn out that we cannot establish peaceful relations with the Chebotti, then I would gladly lock away a hundred Jennings and kill a thousand men like you than allow us to fight the most important war in human history without being adequately prepared for it.”
“You've been spending too much time with your androids,” said Becker. “You've forgotten what humanity is all about.”
“And you, Major, have spent your entire life with human beings. That is no longer a permanent state of affairs.”
Becker stared once more at Stuart's outstretched hand, then saluted and left the office.
He felt the tension leaving his body as he took the elevator down to the ground floor. The outrage, he realized, would take a lot longer.
He walked out the front door of the building, hands in his pockets, and started walking toward the parking lot where he had left the car.
“Jesus, I'm hungry!” said a familiar feminine voice at his side. “How are we gonna beat the bad guys if all our soldiers eat is junk food? I haven't had a good meal since we left New York City.”
He looked to his left and saw that Jaimie had joined him and was matching him stride for stride.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi, Counselor.”
“Did they rough you up much?” he asked.
“A bit,” she said with a shrug. “How much of your soul did you sell to get them to take the Code Red off us?”
“A bit,” he answered.
“You can tell me all about it over lunch,” she said. “I'm gonna start off with a nice lobster bisque, and then Caesar salad, and ... “ She rattled off a seven-course menu.
“Who's paying for this feast?” asked Becker as they reached the car.
“Why, that nice Colonel Stuart, of course,” she said with a grin.
“Does he know it?”
“Is the Pope Jewish?” replied Jaimie.
25.
The officers of the Tribunal stared at Jennings and his attorney.
“The charges and specifications having been read, does the Counsel for the Defense choose to enter a plea at this time?”
Becker rose to his feet.
“We do.”
“And how does the defense plead?”
Becker looked briefly at Jennings, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
“To all charges and specifications, we enter a plea of Not Guilty by reason of temporary insanity.”
Magnussen, fresh from destroying the envelope that Becker had given him in the park, rose to state that the prosecution was willing to accept the defense's arguments.
The trial of Wilbur H. Jennings, former captain of the Theodore Roosevelt, was concluded in eleven minutes. Then Becker, all thoughts of his furlough banished from his mind, returned to his new office, rolled up his sleeves, and really went to work.
THE END