Taken Liberty v5

by Steven H. Wilson

  Neither of them noticed the telltale red signal which flashed at the opposite end of the corridor, nor the floating security camera to which it was attached. Security cameras were not standard aboard Titan, and they had no idea one had been installed here. Of course, they had no idea it had recorded their exit from the room, for a holo camera's optics could not be bypassed by Phaetonian telepathy.

  * * *

  "Okay," said Metcalfe, "we've done it. Now what?"

  They were in Metcalfe's cabin. Aer'La, still seeing through a haze of grog, had been hidden away for safe keeping. Afterwards, Metcalfe and Cernaq had gathered their allies and told them what they'd done.

  "We need to get her off the ship," said Kaya.

  "Obviously," agreed Carson. "But how? There are storm troopers on every exit, and reporters behind the storm troopers."

  "And where," wondered Cernaq, "do we take her, even if we can get past them?"

  "I think I can help there," said Celia Faulkner. Inviting her had been Kaya's idea. Metcalfe and Carson had been skeptical about taking the plot beyond their inner circle. Kaya had put her foot down, however. They needed someone with contacts, the kind of contacts that took the better part of a lifetime to cultivate. Since her father, for obvious reasons, couldn't be asked to help with their mutinous scheme, that left Celia. Aside from the utter soundness of the argument, the two Terrans found it hard to disagree when Kaya put her foot down.

  "I believe my family will take in Aer'La," Celia went on. "I've discussed it with my senior husband, and he's going to bring it before the family."

  "Hecate is still a member world. Won't there be... repercussions?" asked Cernaq.

  "Possibly," agreed Celia. "But imagine, Mr. Cernaq, what would happen if a company like, say, Douglas Holdings were to find itself at odds with the Council."

  "A deadlock," said Cernaq. "Military force would likely not be used, because of the political and economic power D.H. commands."

  "Precisely," she said. "And my world also commands a great deal of economic power. We're a major food supplier, one of the breadbasket worlds of the Confederacy."

  "Would your whole world come to bat, if your family decided to take Aer'La?" asked Carson.

  "My eldest husband commands great respect among our people. Hecate is a tightly knit colony. If Kelby advocates taking a stand, they'll take it."

  "You brought up another point, Doctor," said Metcalfe. "Douglas Holdings has the kind of power that Aer'La needs. What if we got them on our side?"

  "Douglas Holdings has become a very large bureaucracy over the past few decades. Getting it to take notice of your problem requires a great deal of creativity and no small amount of time. While they have their charitable operations arm, and," she looked over the assembled Arbiters and smiled proudly, "we have a great deal of creativity at our disposal... we do not have time on our side."

  "All right," said Metcalfe. "Hecate it is. Now, how do we – ?"

  The door to Metcalfe's cabin opened suddenly. Atal stepped in, followed closely by Darby and Five. The Captain's expression was unreadable. Darby was angry, almost purple with agitation. Five... Five was trying not to smile.

  They knew.

  "Well, this is a pretty lot," said Darby, surveying the room. "I can't say I'm surprised, but I must say –"

  "Not now, Mr. Darby," said Atal. He looked at Metcalfe, no one else.

  "I was hoping we'd be done with this before you found out," Metcalfe asked quietly.

  "Then this was your idea," asked Atal, "as I expected?"

  "It was our idea, dammit," protested Kaya. "We all –"

  "Shut up, Kaya," said Metcalfe. He held Atal's gaze. "I formulated the plan. They didn't know anything about it, until Cernaq and I brought Aer'La here."

  "That won't prevent any of your standing before a court martial," said Darby.

  "Quiet!" Atal barked. Then, forced to agree, he said, "You will all answer for your parts in this, but I've no doubt who the ringleader was. Mr. Metcalfe, you'll come with me for questioning. The rest of you are confined to quarters until further notice."

  "What about the feral?" demanded Five. "Where are they hiding her?"

  "No one knows that but me," said Metcalfe. "And I won't be telling."

  "We should commence a search," said Five.

  "All in good time, Mr. Blaurich. First..."

  Five, his face awash in eagerness asked, "Shall I take Metcalfe into custody, sir?"

  Atal looked darkly at his executive officer. "He'll answer some questions first. After that, barring any surprises... You've left me few options, Mr. Metcalfe."

  * * *

  Georg Fournier was waiting for them on the promenade. He looked disheveled, something that didn't seem possible, given his public image. His face was alive with agitation when Atal brought Metcalfe in.

  "What the hell is going on here, Atal?" he demanded. "I'm hearing rumors that the prisoner has escaped!" His eyes locked on Metcalfe, and his expression became sickly. He swallowed hard, shaking his head in disbelief. "Oh, no... don't tell me..."

  "Mr. Metcalfe arranged for Midshipman Cernaq to remove Aer'La from custody," Atal said matter-of-factly.

  The Captain keyed his data implant. A hologram fizzled to life over his desk. It showed a view of the corridor outside Aer'La's cabin, showed Cernaq calmly exiting, Aer'La at his side... showed the guard, just standing there.

  "What the hell?" Fournier demanded.

  "That was caught by the security cameras you ordered me to install," said Atal.

  "And a damned good thing I did! And you thought – oh never mind! How did they do that?"

  Atal looked to Metcalfe. "The Admiral asked a question, Mister."

  "Cernaq used his ability to impede the function of optic nerve transmissions to the guard's brain. He made the guard believe that a latent image of Aer'La, still in the cabin, was what he was seeing, while he suppressed –"

  "I knew Phaetonians in the service would come to no good!" Fournier snarled.

  "He was following my orders, sir," said Metcalfe.

  "You have no authority to give orders to another midshipman!"

  "I... I have some influence, sir, I..."

  "Are you saying you threatened him?"

  Metcalfe swallowed. "I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that the answer might serve to incriminate me," he said stiffly.

  "Just as I thought. It will do you no good. There'll be evidence enough, I'm sure... For now..." He stepped close to Metcalfe. "Where is she?"

  Metcalfe was silent.

  "Don't toy with me, Midshipman!" Fournier growled. "I know you know where she is."

  "Yes, sir, I do."

  "Then you will take me to her, right now."

  "No sir, I won't."

  "Mr. Metcalfe," Fournier said in a low, dangerous tone, "you have already ended your career in the Navy. If you remain uncooperative, I will see to it that you spend your life in prison as well."

  "I can't cooperate, Admiral. What you're ordering me to do is wrong, and I won't be party to it. Aer'La is a free citizen –"

  "Quiet!" snapped Fournier. "Mister, you may believe that you are a freedom fighter on a holy crusade, but I'm afraid you are misguided. And your error in judgment is going to be very costly to you. The girl is not a free citizen, she is a fugitive from justice. She is being sought on charges of murder, charges which her state can support with overwhelming evidence, I might add. You, by harboring her, are not only interfering with an officer of Varthan law in the performance of his duties, you are making yourself an accomplice after the fact in murder – the murder of a Confederate citizen."

  "Yes sir," Metcalfe said quietly. He was rarely quiet. Clearly, Fournier hated it when he was. It upset his status quo.

  "Dammit, man, you can – and will! – be court martialled! You could also be extradited to the Varthan government, and made to stand trial there. Do you realize you're taking your life in your hands?"

  "Do you realize you're taki
ng Aer'La's?" Metcalfe demanded, unable to maintain the pretense of calm any longer.

  Fournier shook his head. "Atal, your officer is disobeying a direct order."

  The Captain looked squarely at Metcalfe. "You have received your orders."

  "Yes sir."

  "Well?" Atal asked quietly. "What are you going to do?"

  "I can only do what I know to be right, sir."

  "Despite the consequences?"

  "Yes sir."

  The Captain looked back to Fournier. "I have given him his orders, Admiral. There's little else I can do."

  Fournier looked away. "Lock him up. And get me the Phaetonian boy."

  "Cernaq doesn't know where she is, Admiral. I'm the only one. I wouldn't let him share the blame."

  "He's a telepath! Of course he knows!"

  "No, Admiral," said Atal. "Not if he deliberately refuses to seek out the information. And I'm confident he would, in this case."

  "Fine," said Fournier. "Then we'll have one of the other Phaetonians pull it out of Metcalfe's mind."

  Atal shook his head. "That's against their code of ethics. They won't do it."

  "Code of ethics!" Fournier spat. "High-handed morality! Doesn't anybody give a damn about the security of the Confederacy? You can't eat your ethics, Atal! And they won't protect you against the Qraitians!" He regained his composure. "Begin a search for the girl. And I still want to question the others."

  "I take full responsibility for their actions, Admiral," said Metcalfe. "I will accept the penalty."

  "Oh yes," agreed Fournier. "You will."

  He went to the door, opened it, and motioned into the hallway for someone to enter. Darby strode in, accompanied by Sestus Blaurich. Clearly, judging by the self-satisfied expressions on both their faces, they'd been allowed to listen in on Fournier's questioning of Metcalfe.

  "Mr. Blaurich," said Fournier, "Mr. Metcalfe is to be placed under arrest, pending court martial. The charge is mutiny. You will escort him to the brig."

  Five smiled triumphantly and snapped off a brisk, "Yes, sir!" He came over and clapped a hand on Metcalfe's shoulder. "Please," he whispered, "try to fight me."

  "I'll come quietly," said Metcalfe in his iciest tone. He could tell that Five was disappointed.

  "Mr. Darby," Fournier went on, "Midshipman Cernaq is to be kept confined in his quarters. A hearing will determine if he, too will stand trial. You may release the others, but inform them they will be questioned, and a disciplinary review conducted against them all."

  Darby nodded and began to leave. Mors entered, looking, for once, to be in a hurry.

  "Jan, what's happening?" he asked.

  "An arrest is happening, Professor," Fournier said before Atal could respond. "And I'm afraid I must ask you not to interfere. I'd hate to have to remind you that you have no authority in this matter. You are not a commissioned officer, no matter your status at the Academy."

  "Who's being arrested?" Mors demanded.

  "Mr. Metcalfe," Fournier said tightly. "He has released the prisoner, and sequestered her in a location he refuses to divulge."

  Mors nodded understanding and looked calmly at Metcalfe. "You realize the consequences for your actions could be grave, Mr. Metcalfe."

  "I do, sir. The consequences for correcting authority when it's wrong usually are."

  "So they are," agreed Mors. "Of course, I'll do all I can to assist in your defense."

  "What you will do, Professor," said Fournier, "is use your telepathic abilities to help us find the fugitive. Failure to surrender her to the Varthan officers could create an embarrassing incident. Your intervention can prevent that."

  Mors shook his head with a small frown. "No. I'm afraid I can't do that."

  "What?" Fournier demanded. "You're obstructing justice! I don't care what your standing is with the Council, I'll have you charged –"

  "As you yourself pointed out, Georg, I have no military capacity. I am a private citizen. I am under no obligation to obey military authority, nor to assist in a military effort, unless I so choose." He smiled, "And, even if you manage to instate emergency conscription, I think you'll find I'm far too old to be drafted."

  "But," Fournier sputtered. "You're allowing a disaster to occur!"

  "Possibly I am. The choice, it seems, is between an embarrassing interstellar incident, and an injustice against sentient rights. In this case, I applaud Mr. Metcalfe's moral stand, agree totally with his actions, and will not lift a finger to impede his progress."

  "Professor," said Atal, "I'm afraid you're fighting a losing battle."

  Mors smiled. "It's the kind I enjoy fighting best, Jan." His face darkened. "Though I must say it saddens me that my elder student doesn't seem to possess the courage of his protege. I thought I'd taught you better than that, old friend."

  Metcalfe's Prayer Journal...

  What's that old saying? "It never rains but it pours?"

  And your kind used to be believed to control the weather, so I think it's appropriate here. First I discover that the most beautiful woman I've ever met is a flaming bigot. Then, I'm tossed in the brig, and before I even have a chance to lick my wounds, you send Carson after me. I wasn't up for round three-million-sixty-two in our on-going fight, but he pulled me right on into it.

  You know I didn't mean the things I said about him. You know I'm sorry. Now, could I be so presumptuous as to ask the strength to tell him? And does he feel this guilty when he's raked my ass over the coals?

  No? Of course not. Why did I ask?

  He's right, of course. I am holding out information, and it isn't fair to him, or to any of my friends. I loathe secrecy. Why can't I tell them the truth? Carson and Kaya? They care as much as I do. They want to help as much as I do. Shouldn't they know, if only to spare them the pain they've felt? And the even greater pain that's coming?

  When all is said and done, they're going to hate my guts, aren't they?

  Carson always thought I considered myself better than everyone else. Okay... that's actually fair. I do consider myself better than most. If that's a sin, I don't know what to do about it. I can only judge by observation, and what I observe in the rest of the race – all branches of it – is a lot of arrogance (the unfounded kind – I know I'm arrogant), a lot of stupidity, a lot of incompetence...

  But I don't think I'm better than him... do I?

  "Listen, Universe," he'd howled, when I told him that the Captain's plans were 'need-to-know,' "Terence Metcalfe is superior! He's a better kind of human being!"

  Do I really believe that? Do I really come off that way?

  He said all I cared about was my rank and my career. That people mean nothing to me. That it would be my fault if anything happened to Aer'La. Then he got really pissed and started shoving me.

  I wanted to slug him, but I knew he was right. If I were him, I'd say the same things. All this business of keeping secrets – what does it get us?

  If I'm right, Aer'La's life.

  If I'm wrong...

  Either way, they'll hate my guts.

  Just like I guess Pallas already does. Did from the moment she saw me. Just like I... wish I could hate her. She's a bigot. She hates me for where I'm from, not what I am. She's the lowest form of human life.

  So why does it hurt so much that she's angry at me?

  Chapter Twelve

  Inner Voices

  Cernaq? You seem... distressed.

  I'm confined to my quarters, Pallas, for helping Aer'La escape custody.

  What? Cernaq, have you considered the consequences of such an act? You could be charged as an accessory to murder.

  So I could. But Aer'La cannot be returned to slavery.

  Where are you, anyway?

  I'm on the Varthan ship. Captain Harl invited me for a tour.

  I can't say I approve –

  Don't abandon your objectivity, Cernaq. I've learned quite a bit by coming here.

  Is that why you went? To learn?

  That's why I do ever
ything I do. How much do you know about the Varthans?

  I only know Aer'La. I don't believe she's typical.

  I won't speak to that belief. They're almost our polar opposites. Passion-driven. Uneducated. Their self-interest is highly developed, at least among the ruling classes. It's perverted, though. They strive for their own wealth and physical comfort, but have no regard for their principles. They would happily commit an immoral act for financial gain. They would, similarly, sacrifice their own dignity.

  Cultures built on slavery are always disgustingly opportunistic.

  It's hard for me to be here. They're so... low. All of them. It's almost like they're not completely sentient. I wonder if it's genetic?

  I don't believe so. Aer'La is completely sentient.

  You must see qualities in her that I don't. I find her fairly well-suited to this environment. She has her people's tendency to use force to achieve her desired ends, without regard for the rights of others.

  She was raised in that environment. She is becoming more enlightened.

  Your emotions may be clouding your judgment. Does that always happen, when one has had sex with another person?

  I don't believe my judgment is clouded. As to the rest, perhaps you should have sex and find out.

  I intend to. It's on my list.

  Be careful, Pallas. Terry Metcalfe is not someone to be used as a research project. He's not someone to be used at all. If he is intimate with you, he will form an emotional attachment –

  I have no intention of causing him distress. Besides, I don't believe I'll be having sex with him. He's extremely upset by my association with Captain Harl.

  It is... a disturbing development. You realize that his intentions –

  Oh, don't worry! Harl tried to get me in his cabin as soon as we got here. I gave him a gentle push to want to show me the ship instead. I may be a virgin, but I'm not hopelessly naive. I certainly wouldn't want to experiment sexually with him.

  I'm glad. And I'm sorry that you've alienated Terry.

  So am I. It was necessary, though.