by James Wilks
“You know, we should probably leave as soon as we can,” Templeton said as he sat across from his captain with his elbows on the table in front of him.
Staples nodded, then took a sip of her coffee. “I know, Don. I just need an hour or two to get my mind around things. And everyone needs to sleep.”
“I wish you’d tell me what you’re struggling with.” The two of them sat at a table in a greasy spoon diner about half a mile from where Gringolet was berthed. Evelyn and Bethany sat with them.
Templeton and the two women had been heading to the mess hall for a late breakfast when Staples ran across them in one of the corridors in the ship. She had been wandering in circles since her conversation with Brutus, trying to decide what to do next and how to go about it. Templeton had invited her to join them, and she had suggested the nearby restaurant. She wanted to be off the ship, at least for a little while. Initially, she had been surprised to see Bethany going to eat with the others, but then she remembered that the young woman had a crush on Evelyn, and her presence made more sense.
“I’m going to, I promise. I just don’t want to go through it over and over, and I need time to process.” The largely unfinished remains of omelets, pancakes, and bacon littered the table. Staples was exhausted but jittery with caffeine. “I would have thought you’d be asleep,” she said to Evelyn.
The redheaded computer scientist nursed her own mug of coffee heavily infused with cream and sugar. “I can almost never sleep through the day. It’s a real curse when I stay up all night.” Her tone made it clear that she was not unaccustomed to doing so.
“What about you?” Staples asked Bethany.
The woman wore a pair of baggy black slacks and a purple and black sweater. As ever, her eyes were dark with eyeliner and eye shadow, though much of her deep red lipstick had come off on her mug. “I like coffee,” she offered, then took another sip. By Staples’ count, it was her fifth cup.
“Here! Here!” The captain clinked her mug against Bethany’s awkwardly and sloshed a bit of fluid onto the table.
Ten minutes later, having paid the bill, the four of them were walking back towards the ship across the sand. The sun was approaching its zenith, and the sun had warmed the sand considerably. Evelyn removed her shoes and walked barefoot, the breeze blowing her hair about her head. After a moment’s hesitation, Staples did the same.
Gringolet stood in front of them, his nose pointing east, the rest of the ship flaring out and back from them. The sight was much the same as the one that had greeted Staples when she had returned from the meeting with Libom Pangalactic that had set all of this in motion. That seemed to her like years ago, though it had been just over three months. One thing was different, however, with the view. Two men stood in front of the ship. They were police officers.
Staples almost stopped when she saw them, but then she forced herself to continue. Her three companions kept pace, but Templeton whispered, “What do we do?”
“Keep walking,” Staples said under her breath.
“Do you think they’re here over Threndon? Will he even be up yet?” Evelyn asked.
“That or the incident in Las Vegas,” Templeton replied. They were still about twenty yards from the officers, and the blowing breeze ensured that their quiet conversation was private for the moment, but they were running out of time.
“There’s no way to tell,” Staples said. “They might just be here to give us a parking ticket.” She tried to sound hopeful, but she felt quite sure that this was not the case.
The men were of a similar height, one blonde, one redheaded. Each kept his hair short, and their black hats remained on their heads seemingly in defiance of the brisk wind. They wore black bulletproof vests over their blue uniforms. Their guns were holstered, but Staples noticed that the straps were undone.
As usual, Templeton took the lead. Once they were within a few yards of the officers, he stepped forward and offered his hand, a congenial smile on his face.
“Don Templeton,” Templeton said, “How can we help you gentlemen?”
The red-haired officer took his hand briefly, but he did not return the smile. “Officer Boswick.” He inclined his head towards his partner. “This is officer Guestwicki.” He turned to the small pilot partially hiding behind Staples and Evelyn. “Bethany Miller?”
“Yes?” Her voice was a whisper.
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Daniel Miller.” The officer produced a pair of handcuffs and moved politely around Templeton towards Bethany.
Templeton’s mouth hung open, and both Evelyn and Staples turned to stare at her. Bethany seemed to shrink into herself, but she neither ran nor backed up. A second later Boswick had her turned around and was clasping the cuffs around her tiny wrists. He began to list her rights.
“Now wait just a damn minute,” Templeton said, though he did not try to interfere overtly.
“Bethany?” Evelyn asked, staring at the girl. Bethany hung her head and did respond, but she began crying softly.
“Now officers,” Templeton tried again. Boswick was still mechanically listing Bethany’s rights to silence and a lawyer. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Staples watched Bethany for a moment. Her body language did not convey surprise, anger, or even fear. Instead, she looked hopeless and, Staples thought, guilty. She didn’t think there had been a misunderstanding at all.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” Guestwicki said and placed himself non-threateningly between Templeton and his partner. “Anyway, if you’d like to address it, I suggest you get the girl a lawyer and come down to the station. It’s on McPhillips.”
“But… but…” Templeton sputtered, and Staples put a restraining hand on his arm.
“Don, come on,” she said, and began backing away, pulling her first mate with her. Evelyn continued to stare at the scene, not sure what to make of it. “We’ll see you soon, Bethany,” the captain said loudly so that the young woman would hear her, then she began walking rapidly towards her ship, the sand squishing between her toes. Templeton struggled to catch up. They left Evelyn standing barefoot on the beach, her hair whipping in the wind.
“What are we going to do, Clea?” Templeton asked as they reached the ship and Staples keyed her watch to lower the shuttle bay door. “It’s going to take days to get a lawyer and get her out. I’m not sure we can hang around here that long.”
The bay door touched the sand, and Staples half-walked, half-ran up it. Templeton huffed up behind her. “A lawyer’s not going to do us any good, Don.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s guilty.” She crossed towards a locker at the back of the room. A sideways glance showed her that the Skipper had been docked in its cradle, probably by Dinah. As ever, she was grateful for the woman’s thorough nature.
“You think so?” he asked. She threw him a glance. “Yeah, okay, you’re probably right. Then what-”
She reached the weapons locker and keyed in the code.
“Whoa, what the hell are you thinking? You can’t break her out of jail!”
Staples wrenched the door open. Inside were eight rifles and assorted ammunition and pistols. “You’re right, that would be crazy. We have to get them before they get in the car.” She pulled out one of the rifles, loaded it, and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m sure she did it, Don, but that doesn’t mean that the cops showing up here wasn’t Victor’s doing. I do know that if we leave her to stand trial, he’ll have all the opportunity he needs to have her killed.” She started jogging back towards the bay door and the sand beyond. Templeton loped along behind her.
“He could pay a prisoner, or a guard, or someone would just make it look like she hanged herself in her cell,” Staples continued. They were down the ramp. The two officers and Bethany were just visible crossing the raised dune that marked the end of the beach and the start of the pavement.
“Then at least get Dinah and Jang. We can get her together,” Templeton urged as he trailed behi
nd her.
“No time. If they get to the station, we’re not getting her back without someone getting hurt, ours or theirs. We can’t just storm a police station. Someone will get killed.” She was nearly running, a task not easy on the sand. Fortunately no other people were close on the beach. The portion of the strand allocated for berthing ships was not generally used for swimming or surfing.
“If you do this and we run, we won’t be able to come back,” Templeton said. He was falling behind now.
She stopped in her tracks. “I know, but I’m not leaving her behind to die.”
Staples raised the rifle to her shoulder, took aim, and yelled, “Hey!”
Both officers turned to look at her. They were perhaps twenty meters away. There were two of them, and they were armed, but their pistols were snapped in their holsters again, and they were certainly surprised to see someone pointing a semi-automatic rifle at them. The officers had been trained well, but the distance between them favored the rifle considerably. The two men glanced at each other. Something silent passed between them, and they both raised their hands.
“I just want the girl!” Staples yelled. Bethany had turned as well and was looking at her captain with a mix of confusion and sorrow. Staples advanced on the two men, crossing to within five meters. There she stopped. She knew that if she gave up the advantage of range, the two men would easily overpower her.
“Bethany, come here,” she said firmly.
Bethany began walking towards her in a daze, her hands still bound behind her.
“Evelyn, get on board!”
Evelyn took a moment to survey the situation, then the corner of her mouth twitched in a slight smile. She ran for the ship. “I don’t suppose this will help,” Staples said to the officers, “but I want you to know that if I let her go with you, she’ll be killed. Someone powerful wants us dead. I’m not saying she’s innocent. I’m not saying she shouldn’t stand trial. But if I let her go, she’ll die, and I just can’t let that happen.”
“Ma’am, you don’t want to do this,” Boswick said.
“You’re right,” Staples replied, the rifle still pointed squarely at his head. “But I have to. Don?” She spoke slightly over her shoulder while keeping her eyes fixed on the police in front of her. “Get Bethany onboard, then get us off the ground. I’m right behind you.” As Bethany stumbled past her, she began backing up. She heard Templeton turn and run for the ship as fast as he could.
“I really am sorry,” Staples said again. “I’m the captain of this ship, and these actions are my own. None of my crew is responsible for them.”
“I don’t think that will sell,” Guestwicki said. Staples ignored him. She continued to retreat until she felt the ramp behind her. She stood there for a minute until she heard the engines of her ship start. Slowly, step by step she backed up the ramp. She risked taking her hand off the trigger for a second to key her watch, and the ramp began to close.
Fortunately, Gringolet was not locked in place as it had been on Titan Prime. Electromagnets kept the ship hovering a few feet above the surf. The police would no doubt have a shuttle here to arrest them within fifteen minutes, but by then they should be heading towards the outer stratosphere. She heard Templeton’s voice boom over the coms system ordering everyone to strap in for an emergency planetary escape. Staples slung the rifle behind her and ran for one of the fold down restraint chairs on the rear wall of the shuttle bay. There just wasn’t time to get to the cockpit.
Chapter 18
“Are you insane?” Charis demanded.
The entire crew was in the mess hall again, and Staples didn’t need Templeton to interpret the mood of the people in front of her; they were tense, confused, and frightened. And I haven’t even told them about the impending alien invasion, she thought. They were just two hours out from Earth’s atmosphere and burning at a full G of thrust. Less than an hour after liftoff, they had received an order by radio to turn around, but the command had come from the Oregon State Police.
Outer space created jurisdictional problems that made international extradition treaties look like high school civics lessons by comparison. How high did US or Indian airspace extend? Could approach vectors extend over other countries? Was outer space the same as international waters? These and other questions had circulated in summit meetings for years with little agreement.
There was of course an organized police authority designed to transcend national borders. It was called the Earth Police Service, but it was weighed down by bureaucracy and an organizational system designed to prevent it from having any real teeth. In essence, the small fleet of ships could take action when a threat was present or a crisis was evolving, but it required approval from half a dozen courts staffed by a multitude of second-class diplomats and judges to do anything more than that. No country wanted the EPS to become a military force on its own. The Oregon State Police would have to file a litany of documents with the correct sub-committees to request that they in turn issue an atmosphere-wide warrant for the ship, and that would take time.
Until those bureaucratic wheels turned, they were free to fly away, but that didn’t let Staples escape the accusatory glare in her navigator’s eyes or the rest of her crew looking to her for answers.
“It was the best I could do given the situation,” Staples responded.
“You know once they kick it up the line that you broke a suspect out of police custody at gunpoint, we won’t be able to go back to Earth without getting arrested. Any of us!” Charis’ voice was raised, but she wasn’t yelling yet. She looked around at the assembled crew.
As usual, Templeton stood next to Staples at the far end of the room with every other person on the ship facing them. Dinah stood near a bleary-eyed but rapidly-awakening Overton. John sat by his wife at one of the tables. He had a hand on her arm, but it was in support rather than restraint. In an uncharacteristic display of independence, Gwen was sitting across from her parents rather than next to them. Jabir sat about a meter down from her like a safety blanket. Yoli and Jang kept up their professional separation; she was next to Ian, and he stood near the door, stiff and dour. Evelyn leaned against a wall not far away. Brutus stood slightly distant from the others; Staples had not noticed whether he had chosen a spot away from the rest of them or vice versa. Bethany hid in one of the back corners, slightly behind Dinah.
“Naval tradition states that a captain is responsible for the actions of her crew,” Templeton offered.
“Well, that’ll be great if we get tried in a maritime court,” Ian countered with bitter irony, his gruff voice raised. “You’ve ruined all of our lives for hers.” He inclined his head at Bethany, but he didn’t look at her. The young woman shrank away from him anyway.
“Leave her out of it,” Staples warned. “She didn’t do anything. I made the choice. If they had taken her into custody, she would have been dead inside of twenty-four hours.”
“You can’t know that!” There was clear exasperation in Charis’ voice. Her daughter watched her warily, seeming a bit detached. Staples would have expected her to be more upset. She supposed they were all becoming increasingly accustomed to tense situations, or perhaps Gwen was just growing up.
“Actually, we can,” Templeton replied. “Victor already tried to pay off a lawman to kill one of us.” They had all heard the story of Glover’s conversation with the captain on Titan Prime.
“But this isn’t some backwater moon-station we’re talking about,” Charis said. “This is Earth.”
“Are people less corruptible and more resistant to greed on Earth?” Staples asked rhetorically.
Before Charis could reply, Yoli broke in. “What was she arrested for?”
Staples didn’t answer, and suddenly there was a very tense silence in the room. A few people glanced towards Bethany, and Staples thought that Dinah bristled a bit in protective silence. The captain wanted to tell them, but she knew it wasn’t her place. If anyone was going to answer, it would have to be Bethany. Stap
les knew this, but she was still surprised when the girl did so.
“Murdering my father,” Bethany said weakly. Her voice was so quiet that several people turned to confirm what they had heard from the person next to them. Bethany put her hands over her face and slid down to a sitting position, a tiny dark spot in the corner. Brutus had carefully removed her cuffs with his powerful hands shortly after liftoff.
Ian threw up his hands as if the answer to the problem were the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, why don’t we just go back and tell them she didn’t do it?”
Again there was silence, and a look of horror dawned on the mechanic’s face. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” he said. Most of the others stared slack-jawed at the pilot. John looked torn between taking his daughter out of the room, stunned silence, and wanting to know more. “That little girl?” Ian asked whoever was listening. “No way.”
Suddenly Bethany was on her feet. She pushed past Dinah, almost knocking the surprised woman over in her haste. Six steps later she was leaning into Ian’s face; the mechanic moved back in surprise, and, Staples thought, fear.
“Yes!” Bethany shouted. “And you don’t ever call me ‘little girl!’” She was pointing her black-nailed finger right at Ian’s face, her voice louder than Staples had ever heard it. “Not ever!” she continued shouting. “Not ever ever! Yes, I did it! Okay? Are you surprised? Are you surprised that this ‘little girl’ could do that?”
Everyone was shocked into inaction by her tirade except Doctor Jabir Iqbal, who rose gracefully to his feet and stood near Bethany. He did not put his hands on her, and Staples thought how happy she was to have a trauma-informed doctor onboard her ship. He began to murmur to her, explaining that it was all right. After a moment, Dinah stepped forward as well and gently pulled Bethany back from Ian, whose expression was darkening from surprise to anger. Bethany had ceased shouting, and blackened tears were running down her face. Dinah held her awkwardly by the shoulders, tugging her back.