“Defendants have three choices,” Kristi answered. “They can plead guilty, plead not guilty and demand a bench trial, or plead innocent and demand a jury trial. Prosecutors generally do not file charges unless they have irrefutable evidence proving guilt. Knowing that, most defendants plead guilty and are assessed a fine and sentenced to home confinement, with the amount of the fine and the length of the confinement varying depending on the crime’s severity. Defendants rarely plead not guilty because they know that judges hate bench trials. The judge not only has to preside over the trial, but also has to find and pay an attorney to represent the defendant and reimburse the prosecutor for expenses. All of those credits come out of the court’s discretionary account which is funded by the fines. Judges use those funds for educational and training retreats, usually held at posh off-world resorts. So, if at the conclusion of the bench trial the judge finds the defendant guilty the judge usually imposes a very harsh sentence involving a very large fine and a very long prison sentence, often on a remote planet where it is very difficult for any loved ones to visit. Judges do that primarily out of spite and to serve as a deterrent for others thinking about not pleading guilty. Defendants also have the right to plead innocent, but that is very rare. I cannot remember a single innocent plea in my entire lifetime. When a defendant pleads innocent, he or she is not only saying that they did not commit the crime, but that they are being framed by the government and they can prove it. It effectively turns the table, putting the government on trial instead of the defendant. If the defendant is found innocent, he or she is released and provided significant compensation from the government’s general revenue account for character damage. However, if the government proves its case, the defendant is put to immediate death, regardless of the nature of the crime.”
It took Conor some time to find Anne’s new apartment. It was not in a desirable neighborhood. Several seedy-looking characters were loitering in front of her apartment building and it looked like the city’s sanitation and public works departments were not regular visitors. Trash littered the street and the sidewalk in front of the building was riddled with cracks. The building itself was not in too bad shape, but the security guard in the building’s lobby looked more like a street thug than a guard and the receptionist at the front desk looked like a refugee from a late-night horror hologram. He had purple spiked hair, numerous nose rings, and tattoos everywhere. As Conor approached the front desk, the receptionist demanded two credits before he would allow Conor to pass; one for him and one for the guard. A large, black Beta-cat sat on his desk and bared its fangs when Conor initially said no. A local videopaper’s robocamera zoomed in, hoping to record a confrontation. Not wanting to attract any attention, Conor reluctantly handed the man two credits and headed for the turbolift. Anne’s apartment was on the 3rd floor. Placing his palm on the door’s entrance pad, he expected to hear the door chime. Nothing happened. He pressed the entrance pad again and waited. He felt a tingling sensation on his left ankle, then his right. The tingling sensation ran up both legs. He was being scanned for weapons. Raising both of his arms over his head, he turned around slowly, full-circle, and stated into a micro-camera hidden in a planter by the door, “See, no weapons.”
The door vanished and an obviously recorded, but still invitingly soft, feminine voice announced, “Welcome to my new home. Please wait in the parlor. I will be with you in a moment.”
Conor stepped inside and the door reformed behind him. He scanned the room with all of his senses and detected five listening and recording devices hidden in the furniture and behind light fixtures. Otherwise, it had all of the appearances of a nice, warm, cozy room. The colors were soft blues and greens, and the furniture was very old-fashioned and comfortable-looking, with large, soft, puffy pillows and throw cushions. It was the kind of room where you could imagine yourself falling asleep while reading a videopaper, or have a relaxing chat with the neighbors.
“I see that you found the place,” Anne announced from his left.
Conor turned to face her. She was standing in front of what had looked like a wall, but was actually a hologram hiding a hallway. She held a laser pistol in her right hand and was pointing it at his head.
“As you can see, I had to move,” Anne stated angrily. “I was evicted from my old apartment. The landlord told me that I was attracting too much attention and had to leave.”
“That is not my fault,” Conor answered, activating his levitation shield, just in case.
“I was visited this morning by several Interstellar Court investigators,” she continued. “But you probably know that already. Seems that I am suspected of being a co-conspirator in the assassination attempt on Justice LaRocque. Getting interrogated in my own home is no fun. And having government agents visiting my home is not good for business. Plus, Aunt Emma tells me that she was visited as well. Seems that my entire family is under investigation.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Conor answered.
“Of course you do,” Anne continued. “You really shouldn’t lie to me, especially when I am pointing a laser pistol at your head.”
“I am telling the truth,” Conor answered.
“You and LaRocque are scum,” she responded. “Good people died for you. Very good people. We held up our end of the bargain. You didn’t. What you have done is despicable.”
“Michael is trying his best to see that you get paid,” Conor answered.
“Apparently his best is not good enough,” Anne answered, her anger growing.
“I am not here about that,” Conor continued, noticing that Anne’s heart rate was increasing rapidly, her adrenaline levels were surging, and her pupils were contracting. She was about to shoot him.
“Alex asked me to contact you,” Conor stated quickly, looking her directly in the eyes, letting her see that he was being honest with her. “He needs your help.”
Anne’s finger hovered over the laser’s trigger. Its barrel glowed red.
“He has a plan,” Conor continued, his eyes still locked with hers. “He said that it will work, but only if you help him.”
Thinking fast, and knowing how important family was to Anne and remembering something that she had said back at Aunt Emma’s house, Conor added, “He said that you were the only one he could trust. He said that it was a blood thing. He said that you would know what that meant.”
Conor’s lie worked. Anne lowered the laser pistol.
Conor cleared his throat and continued, “I know that you were promised 10 million credits. Michael is working very hard to see that you get it. He knows and honors the sacrifice that you and your family have made. That’s the truth. Brandix is the bad guy here. Not us.”
“We earned those credits with our blood,” Anne stated, pointing at a couch and motioning for him to sit. “At the very least, you should have come to their funerals. You should have been there. All of you should have been there. Even Alex did not come. That was heartbreaking.”
“Yes, we should have been there,” Conor answered as he sat down. “I can’t speak for my friends, but I was with Kathryn. She needed me. I could not leave her side. She’s still in a full body cast, recuperating. She almost died.”
Anne leaned forward and stated icily, “My friends did not almost die. They died. They died for you. You should have been there to pay your respects.”
Knowing that he was not going to win this argument, Conor changed the subject.
“I know that you are angry,” Conor continued. “And rightfully so. You have been betrayed. We are trying to make things right. Remember, I am not here to ask you to help me or to help Michael. I am here to ask you to help Alex. He has a plan. One that will get you your credits and his freedom. But he needs your help to make it work.”
“If I help you again it is going to cost you,” Anne answered. “It’s going to cost you big time. And if you double-cross me again, I will hunt you down and kill you. I will kill all of you. You will all die a slow, painful death. Alex i
ncluded. Am I making myself clear? Do you hear what I am saying?”
“I hear you,” Conor answered, knowing that she meant every word.
Chapter 36
ROBOTS DON’T BLEED
Her computer beeped loudly. Rolling over onto her side, she looked at the clock on her nightstand. Its red digital display flashed 5:46. The computer beeped again.
“Not another morning inspection,” she mumbled, pushing her mother’s hand-knitted bedspread to the floor.
“Lights on, level two,” she stated, just loud enough for the room’s computer to hear her.
Luminous organic crystals embedded in the room’s ceiling glowed dimly, bathing the room in warm, white light. Swinging her legs to the carpeted floor, she stood up and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. An old-fashioned wooden fan circled slowly overhead, showering a cool breeze onto her shoulders. Fighting off a yawn, she grabbed a nightgown from her dresser and dragged herself across the room to a chair in front of the computer screen. Pulling her long, black hair into a loose ponytail, she tossed it over her left shoulder and onto her back. The computer’s incoming message icon was flashing red, indicating that it was an encrypted message. This was obviously not another inspection notice. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the computer’s on button. A familiar face appeared on the computer screen.
“Sorry to wake you,” he started.
“It’s about time you called,” she interrupted with a big smile. “It’s not every day that someone saves your life. Where did you go? I wanted to thank you! I thought about contacting you, but given everything that I have been reading and seeing in the videopapers I thought it best to give you some space.”
“I have a favor to ask,” Conor interrupted, this time using telepathy.
Jonnelle nearly fell out of her seat.
“Sorry if I startled you,” Conor continued. “But this is the only way I can be certain that what I am about to say will not be intercepted. There is no privacy anymore now that the government’s recording restrictions have been suspended until Justices Casseday and Kourdar are apprehended.”
“How are you doing this?” she thought. “It’s a bit creepy.”
“I have been called a lot of things,” Conor answered. “But creepy is a new one.”
“I didn’t mean you, personally,” Jonnelle replied. “It’s just strange hearing voices in your head. It’s not something that sane people normally do.”
“You get used to it,” Conor continued. “Now, back to that favor I mentioned.”
“Will it get me out of this dead-end assignment?” she asked. “I’m bored to tears here. It’s almost as if they’re purposively trying to drive me and the other cadets that fought alongside Brandix out of the service. You would think that they would treat us better. Not that we expected medals or anything, but a seaside assignment would have been nice.”
“I need your help,” Conor interrupted. “I need someone who can hack into a highly-secure government computer system without anyone noticing. Someone I trust. Someone like you. I’ve done my homework. You are a first-class hacker.”
“I was a first-class hacker,” Jonnelle corrected him. “I gave that up when I entered the service. Besides, why me? There are a lot of good hackers around. You don’t know me that well. How do you know I won’t turn you in? There’s a big reward for turning in people trying to break into government computer systems. Even talking about it is illegal. In fact, if I don’t report this conversation, I could be arrested.”
“The fact that we are not personal friends is precisely why I want you,” Conor interrupted. “They would never suspect you. Plus, I have seen you under combat conditions. You handle yourself well. You’re one tough woman.”
Jonnelle smiled. Like most people, she appreciated a sincere compliment. She also liked being referred to as a woman. Being a cadet, her commanding officer often treated her like a little kid.
“You have my attention,” Jonnelle stated. “And I am interested. What do you have in mind?”
“If you agree to help, your commander will receive a notice later this morning informing her that you have been honorably discharged from the service, at the rank of First Lieutenant,” Conor explained. “Congratulations on your promotion and for your dedicated service to the Consortium of Allied Planets.”
“I’m still listening,” she interrupted him. “But I’m not so sure I want to leave the service just yet. Graduation is just around the corner and there are a lot of people looking forward to attending the ceremony. I would have a lot of explaining to do. An extended leave with pay might be better. But we can discuss that later. Just what is it that you want me to do?”
“I need your help hacking into the Interstellar Court’s computer system,” Conor continued. “We know how it can be done and we have a device that can do it, but our two best hackers are not available. I want you to fill in for them. The pay is two million credits if all goes as planned.”
“Did you say two million credits?” Jonnelle asked, not quite believing what she had just heard.
“That’s right,” Conor answered. “Two million credits.”
Jonnelle leaned back in her chair and whistled.
“I take it that you are interested,” Conor stated with a grin.
“Yes!” Jonnelle shouted in her thoughts.
“Great!” Conor answered. “Paid leave or an honorable discharge?”
“Given that many credits, make it an honorable discharge,” Jonnelle answered. “I will tell my parents that I was promoted and given a bonus due to my meritorious actions on Emory Boulevard. They will get over the disappointment of missing graduation. Besides, my sister, Bridget, just joined the service. My parents can look forward to going to her graduation in a few years.”
“A hovercraft will pick you up at Hanger Number 9 at 2 this afternoon,” Conor explained. “It will bring you to me. I have to go now. There are a lot of details that need to be attended to before we get started. Trust me. Everything is going to work out just fine.”
Jonnelle reached for the off button. Eyes fixed on the now blank computer screen, she wondered what she had just gotten herself into.
Climbing down the access ladder, Conor reached the platform first. Jonnelle’s heart was racing.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Conor assured her.
“You didn’t tell me that we would be crawling through sewers,” she stated anxiously.
“It’s just for a short distance,” he reassured her. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing down here but us. And this is a dry sewer. It has not been used for years. Believe me, you don’t want to know what it is like to crawl through an active sewer. The smell is awful. When this is over, remind me that I have a story to share with you.”
“Well, here is a story for you,” she answered. “When I was a little girl my mother and I got stuck on a turbolift with 10 other people for half a day. It was hot and the air coolant system failed. Another little girl was there and she cried the whole time. A man peed in his pants and a woman fainted from the heat. An older lady went nuts and started banging on the door. One guy punched another guy because he refused to share an energy bar. He knocked that guy out cold, stole the energy bar, and ate it. A little later, a woman slapped the crying girl. The girl’s mother, or maybe it was her older sister, I don’t know for sure, slapped that lady and tried to choke her to death. The girl cried even louder. When they finally rescued us, they had to sedate the old lady and the crying girl. They arrested the guy who took the energy bar and the two ladies, charging them with assault and disorderly conduct. My mother and I did not do anything wrong. Nevertheless, I had nightmares for months and ever since then I have been afraid of dark, enclosed places.”
“Don’t worry,” Conor reassured her. “The Court’s communication center is less than two city blocks from here. We will reach it in less than 15 minutes. I know that you can do this. Think positive thoughts.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Jonnelle answered,
trying her best not to panic.
“Think about all of the things that you can buy with two million credits,” Conor stated, trying to calm her. “What’s the first thing that you are going to do with all of those credits?”
“Pay off my parent’s mortgage,” she answered, wiping sweat from her forehead. “I don’t want them to worry about finances ever again.”
“And what about for yourself?” Conor asked as he led the way, his wrist lamp illuminating the pipe in front of them.
“Some nice dresses,” Jonnelle answered, calming down. “I haven’t bought a new dress in months. And my own hovercraft. I have never owned one, only rented. It would be nice to have my own transportation.”
“Any particular color?” Conor continued, noticing that her breathing and heart rate had returned to normal.
“Red,” she answered. “I always wanted a red hovercraft. I’m not sure why. Red seems to me to signal that the owner is flamboyant, sexy, and an all-around fun person.”
Continuing down the pipeline, Jonnelle reached out and grabbed Conor’s right hand.
“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked. “Holding your hand will help.”
Conor did not have the heart to refuse.
“By the way,” she continued. “Just in case you had not noticed. I think that I like you. In fact, I like you a lot.”
Conor stopped.
“Just letting you know,” Jonnelle replied. “Just in case you feel the same. Unlike you, I can’t read minds.”
“There is someone else,” Conor answered, continuing down the pipe.
Jonnelle did not let go of his hand.
“I understand,” she continued. “But I still don’t like dark enclosed places. Whatever you do, don’t let go of my hand.”
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