He said, “No matter how irreproachable your conduct, people will talk and criticize. You shouldn’t take it to heart.”
Her head drooped a little, and he regretted saying anything.
“Don’t,” she said, just as he was about to speak again.
He repented his words. “Can I help?”
She acquiesced and in a faint voice said, “No. There’s nothing you can do.”
“I wish to help.”
“You have, just by listening to me.”
A minute later, she asked, “Do you have the cameo I gave you?”
He took it out of his breast pocket and showed her.
To his surprise, she smiled and her cheeks grew rosy.
CHAPTER 15
Growing Anger
The gently rolling hills of New Kauai often fell off into hollows wedged between high bordering mountain ridges. Narrow stone-paved roads worked their way up the numerous creek beds which got narrower and more difficult to navigate as they climbed the ridges. A typical hollow had several houses set on the hillside overlooking the valley of another hollow. This rich soil supported family farms on which a variety of grain crops, fruits, and vegetables were grown. The fields held wheat and oats, as well as barley, a portion of which was to be stored to feed the domestic animals. Orchards and vineyards peppered the areas where dairy farmers raised livestock and fowl.
Unfortunately, the planet’s normal abundance had suffered a setback that year because of an excessive rainfall followed by an early frost, so the farmers were anxious about their yields. It was nearly harvest time and the crops were growing ripe for the picking—merely lacking the labor force to collect them. The mills and granaries were also waiting to be staffed. The schools were set to let out early so that the farmer’s children could help. Unfortunately many family farmers were still being forced to labor in the mines and manufacturing facilities to support the defense plan of the new president.
The mining mineral deposits were being exploited to the maximum. In the short time that the mines had been operating, they had gathered vast quantities of ore. The workers mined the backside of the lode and found that the ore-bearing rock existed in great mass and extended several hundred meters into the volcano wall. Not everyone was excited by the news—the drafted farmers were anxious to get on with the harvest. Following Neumann’s demands however, Wolfe gave priority to the production of the weapons systems thereby requiring the farmers to remain in the mines.
It was a rainy and dreary day, and many had crops were crying out for tending, but the farmers would have to stay on the job and watch their crops rot.
This was less of a problem for the NNR settlers because they had arrived with large stores of food. The Elysium natives, however, were concerned that they would be left in worsened circumstances.
***
One evening, after the sun had already set, two men rode an elevator down a narrow shaft on the ocean side of the Brobdingnag Volcano. They assembled at the bottom of the shaft and climbed down ladders and over rock ledges into the deepest part of the mine. Fumes of dust hung in the air making each breath of grime-laden air difficult. When they reached the bottom, Gallant was gravely disappointed. Everything was in disrepair. There were loose rocks to be moved from the mouth of the mine, support beams in weakened states, and air flow regulators broken or in disorder. He knew he would have his work cut out for him reestablishing discipline to resume safe operations.
The second man was of average height, strongly built, was wearing gray overalls, and whistling quietly.
“I’ll not keep you long,” said Treadwell.
“No?”
“I’ve no doubt you’ve heard the news?”
“From what I gather, the men wish to leave the mines to complete their harvest,” said Gallant. “I take it the disheveled state of the mines is a reflection of their unhappiness.”
“That may be what they wish.”
“You foresee trouble?” asked Gallant
“A blind man could see where this is heading.”
“Do you have a remedy?”
“We could use more manpower at the mines to let our people complete the harvest.”
“Oh. Where do you suppose we can find them?” asked Gallant.
“Aren’t there plenty of NNR settlers?”
“They’re working hard unloading the supply ships and building their new homes.”
“How about the task force personnel?”
“Commander Neumann doesn’t want military personnel leaving their posts in case a Titan threat materializes.”
“Some don’t see it that way. They think the new guys should pitch in first; then worry about their own needs later.”
“Is that your opinion?”
“I only said what I heard.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.”
“It’s not easy to know what’s just and what’s not. I’m only sayin’ problems are cumin’.”
Gallant was concerned that the people were becoming resentful. He wanted to make a change before the resentment got out of hand.
“People make poor decisions when they’re overwhelmed by a crisis,” said Gallant. “It’s best we make preparations.”
“Oh and how do we do that?”
***
Fear and helplessness breed desperate men and desperation produces nothing good. Over the next week there were disruptions in the mines. Several men were arrested for violence and destroying government property.
Gallant didn’t hear of the arrests until many hours later when one of the wives brought him the news. He was at odds with the law in this case. He immediately went to the Halo prison to talk to those who were jailed.
“I wish to speak to the prisoners.”
“You’ve come too late,” said the jailer. “They’ve been arraigned and their trial is set for this afternoon.”
“That was hasty.”
“We don’t intend to be lax about rabble rousers.”
“What is the likely punishment for this mischief?”
“It was more than mischief. It’s being called treason.”
“Surely not?”
“So you say.”
Although Neumann wanted to hold the trial aboard the Achilles, he relented and it took place in Halo’s town hall—a concession intended to soothe hurt feelings.
The conference room was large enough to serve as a courtroom for the proceedings and yet it still couldn’t contain all the people interested in attending. The focal point of the room was several chairs next to a small table where the defendant and his lawyer sat. A table for the members of the court was at the front of the room. In the back were many rows of audience seats packed with citizens, including Gallant.
Neumann presided as chief justice and five of his task force officers served as jurors. The prosecutor was a member of Wolfe’s inner circle.
The day of the trial was gloomy. There were no birds out singing, or children at play. The rays of sunshine that made it through the overcast clouds like hanging cobwebs. The ill-tempered spectators crowded together whispering and looking about.
The first two cases were for the assault and property damages. They went very quickly, for the men confessed to malicious mischief. Even so, they were given harsh financial penalties and six months prison time at hard labor.
Gallant sat stone faced in the gallery.
William Treadwell was called the ring leader and instigator of the crimes. To the dismay of the entire town, he was being charged with treason.
When his case began, his wife got up to speak on his behalf as to where he had been during various events.
She was middle-aged and short in stature with broad shoulders and arms grown strong from hard work. She looked haggard and worn-down, not just by labor, but by life in general.
She began, “You can’t convict my man of crimes when he was all-the-time home with me. We were working in the fields gathering what little of our crops we could. But we only had our own two hands
and no help. Tis a shame so much was left to rot.” She looked to the audience who responded with nods of agreement.
The prosecutor trotted out several witnesses to the contrary, along with circumstantial evidence of Treadwell’s conspiratorial actions.The witness’s testimony was not encouraging. Gallant sensed trouble.
Treadwell sat quietly in the defendant’s chair, his lawyer beside him. He looked tired and a little bored, but otherwise he appeared unperturbed by the proceedings.
As time approached for the midday break, the magistrates were similarly disposed and when the chief witness gave evidence, they hurried him along and sharply reduced the defense lawyer's cross examination. There was a stirring in the court and the members got up and stretched their legs.
Gallant knew Treadwell to be a careful and very sensible man. He couldn’t understand how he might be involved in the mining disturbance.
It was late in the day when the prosecutor called Treadwell to the stand.
“William Treadwell, you’re the engineering supervisor for the Brobdingnag mine.”
Treadwell sat in his chair, looking at the prosecutor, all the while chewing on something thick and brown in the side of his mouth.
The prosecutor waited a moment and then added, “Is that right?”
Treadwell asked “Is what right?”
“William Treadwell, are you the engineering supervisor at the Brobdingnag mine?”
“Well, some say, I is, and some say, I ain’t.” Treadwell glanced around his chair as if looking for someplace to spit, but seeing none, he continued to chew.
“Mr. Treadwell are you the appointed engineer for the mine, or not?”
“I’m the engineer for the mine, but I volunteered to serve without pay. I was not appointed.”
“Then I take it the two defendants who pleaded guilty to malicious mischief and have been sentenced accordingly, obey your orders. Is that correct?”
“Can’t say that it is, can’t say it isn’t.”
“Do they work for you at the mine?”
“Yes.”
“Then it follows they obey your orders, doesn’t it?”
“Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t.”
“Come, come, man, you’re obfuscating the truth.”
“Can’t say that I am, though, can’t say I’m not.”
“Why is that?”
“Don’t know the word.”
“What word?”
“Obfus . . . ing.”
“It means you’re muddling the meaning.”
“Seems to me, it’s you who’s mudding the meaning.”
The spectators roared with laughter and it took several bangs of the Neumann’s gavel to restore order.
The prosecutor continued for an additional fifteen minutes before he finally reached his exasperation point and conceded that he wouldn’t get anything specific enough from Treadwell to constitute an admission. He sat down wiping the sweat from his face.
The defense attorney rose and asked a single question. “Mr. Treadwell did you order the other two defendants to commit any criminal acts?”
“Nope.”
“That’s all. You may return to your seat.”
Till now, Gallant had been unable to be more than a spectator, but it was critical to get the attention of the court.
He said, “If I may ask for the indulgence of the court, I would like to offer a character reference for this man for I know him from his work at the mines.”
“You have some physical or specific evidence you wish to offer in this man’s defense?” asked Neumann.
“No, sir, err . . ., your honor. But I would like to state that I object to this court on the grounds that this is a civil matter and should be tried in Elysium civil court—not by a military tribunal.”
“No, the offense took place on a military facility. It will be tried by this court. Anything else?”
“Yes, I wish to testify to his character.”
“Shouldn’t your time be better spent aboard the Warrior seeing to repairs?” Neumann's grim mouth curved sourly.
“I have men working diligently on that, sir. I felt I was needed here.”
Neumann cast a stern look on him, very much unhappy with the exchange.
“Very well. Once a verdict is rendered you may speak to the penalty phase. For now, sit down.”
Gallant sat.
The prosecutor summed up his final arguments to the court, “There is evidence both for and against the accused,” he looked expectantly at the officers of the court.
“Where the truth lies is to be determined by this court. Yet, certain facts and certain statements made by the accused are un-denied.”
He reviewed the facts of the case and then said, “While some of his actions are subject to multiple interpretations, his dissatisfaction with the authorities is not in dispute. He admits to several conversations with those involved in the vandalism. That is also undisputed. Whether you consider such testimony sufficiently weighty as to tip the balance between treason and simple criminal conspiracy is in your hands. I would point out that such a finding would be important.”
The prosecutor concluded, “The prisoner has offered his personal suffering as a mitigation of his crime. That can carry no weight. Now, Your Honors, consider your verdict.”
Neumann did not show any obvious signs of prejudice, but Gallant felt the scales of justice were clearly to one side. Without withdrawing from the room, the court members whispered together and a moment later, Neumann said, “The court finds William Treadwell guilty of criminal conspiracy, aggravated assault on an officer, and of major property damage—a felony, I sentence him to . . .”
“Your Honor,” said Gallant rising, “You said that I might address the court during the penalty phase. I wish to give evidence of the character of this man and attest to his previous good work and patriotic nature.”
Neumann turned beet red and said, “Very well, speak if you must.” He indicated it would be a futile gesture. “Take the witness stand.”
He took the oath and began listing the man’s good service as a mine engineer. He added, “Gentlemen, on the evidence, this man has committed some unacceptable acts, but his intention was as a protestor to draw attention to a grievous wrong, not to be a disloyal citizen and certainly not as an advocate for violence or malicious damage.”
“Stop right there, Gallant. You are not here to make a political statement, or to instigate a grievance committee. State your knowledge of his man’s behavior as you know it, and conclude with that.”
Gallant said, “I am personally aware of his good character and hardworking efforts on behalf of UP’s needs, despite his farm suffering a complete loss of crops leaving his family in dire straits. I ask the court to consider these facts.”
“This man’s misfortunes are no excuse for vandalizing government property in a time of war. He’s lucky the case for treason was too weak to pursue farther, though a case could still be made for that.”
Gallant spoke for several more minutes outlining Treadwell’s contributions to the community and concluded with, “I recommend leniency.”
“You may well feel that way, but the decision rests with this court and considering the lawless nature of the acts involved, I am not so inclined,” said Neumann, thrusting out his jaw.
There was a murmur in the court.
“I trust I may never need leniency from this court,” muttered Gallant.
“You should not address this court so flippantly, sir. Be careful, lest you find yourself in contempt.”
There was stirring in the court.
Neumann said, “Silence! Any farther disturbance will result in my clearing the court.” He paused and then added, “The prisoner is sentenced to two years imprisonment.”
Sounds of dissent could be heard while Neumann rapped the table with his gavel.
***
Several days later, a bomb went off near the town hall with as great an explosion as Gallant had ever witnessed o
n land. He was distraught and unbalanced, trying to clear his head and understand who and why this had occurred. how pressed the ignition, he didn’t know.
A councilman’s wife was screaming hysterically, her eyes wide with fear, her arms wrapped around her husband, clinging as if she would never let go, all the while the man was pulling away, trying to extract himself from her entanglement so he could run. Run away, far away anywhere other than where he now stood near the town hall.
Gallant looked around closer to where he stood and saw many injured people. Not far away was an injured woman. He went to her and tried to help her up. Her arm was bleeding profusely. He grabbed her arm and applied pressure and ripped a length of cloth and tied it as a tourniquet. He felt someone tugging at him it was a corpsman trying to reach the woman for triage. To the credit of the population they rallied and swarmed into the square to help the injured.
While he couldn’t condone this act, he understood its motivation, but he knew everything comes with a price. Then something unexpected happened. First one, then others stood up and saluted in a gesture of unity. Gallant was hit by the emotion of the people and the surprised reaction.
What did it mean?
“We’re concerned about this conspicuous act of terrorism,” said the councilman.
“Something doesn’t add up.”
“What doesn’t add up?” asked the councilman.
“I don’t know, I’ll have to think about.”
“What does it matter?” he asked. He looked at him with a troubled expression.
So far this was an isolated case of violent protest. He hoped it wouldn’t spread.
***
Gallant received a message from Neumann, “This is an example of how your misguided sympathies interfere with your duties. You’re about to leave on a mission to Gliese, I don’t what any of your personal involvements delaying that, or I will be forced to take action.”
Gallant made no reply.
CHAPTER 16
Dinner Party
Commander Henry Gallant (The Henry Gallant Saga Book 4) Page 10