by Jaleta Clegg
“No worse than you wasted it earlier,” the judge said. “Answer the question.”
“No, I’ve never been to the Patrol Academy.” The lawyer glared at Leon.
“Any of the rest of you?” Leon asked them.
They shook their heads, except for the youngest looking one. He said, very tentatively, “My brother went.” He shut up. I saw the wince he tried to hide. My guess was someone had kicked him under the table.
“So, none of you are familiar with the Patrol code of honor?” Leon asked.
“What does that have to do with any of this case?” the lead lawyer objected.
“Your Honor, please indulge me just a little longer,” Leon said to the judge. “It does have great bearing on the case.”
“Proceed,” the judge said. “I’m a bit curious myself.”
“The Patrol code of honor,” Leon began his lecture, “though unwritten, is drilled into every student of the Academy. Whether they join the Patrol at graduation or not doesn’t matter. This code specifies the Patrol will offer assistance to any ship in distress. This overrides any and all previous orders. A distress call, such as the one my client received, must be answered. It cannot be ignored, or even logged for someone else to investigate.”
“This has no bearing,” the lawyer insisted. “Your client is not Patrol. She claims to be a member of the Independent Traders Guild. Their code binds her to fulfilling her contractual obligations.”
“True, she has full standing in the Guild,” Leon said, looking at me for the first time since he started talking. “But which has higher priority? Delivering a cargo on time or possibly saving lives? My client is a Patrol Academy graduate, with high honors. Which code is she held to?”
Leon had dug deep. I’d never admitted to anyone what kind of grades I’d gotten at the Academy. It was true I’d graduated fourteenth in a class of over a thousand. I’d earned several distinctions, I had a sharpshooter medallion and golden pilot comets. I’d earned them anyway. They were radioactive dust in space somewhere, along with my first ship.
“She was flying a small cargo ship,” the lawyer said. “What possible help could she have offered?”
“Does it matter?” Leon turned his back on the lawyer. “In conclusion, your honor, I submit that my client did break her contract. The cargo was not delivered as specified. But not because of negligence or misconduct or incompetence. Due to circumstances beyond her control, because she chose to answer a distress call, her cargo was damaged. The delay could very well have been permanent. Sending her on the Kumadai Run without complete information was an act of negligence on the part of Durnago Medical Services. These charges filed against my client, that might cost her her standing in the Independent Traders Guild, are gross misconduct on the part of Durnago Medical Services. They are nothing more than a greedy attempt to renege on their obligations to my client.” He sat down, looking immensely satisfied with himself.
“Your honor,” the Durnago lawyer said, jumping to his feet, “this so called lawyer has no grasp of our laws. He, himself, is unfamiliar with our sector. His attempt to discredit our claim is nothing more than laughable.”
“Do you have a real objection, Howard?” the judge asked.
“That is a real objection,” the lawyer, Howard, said.
“No, it isn’t. Sit down,” the judge said.
Howard sat, his mouth flapping open and shut soundlessly.
The judge leaned forward, studying me. I tried to look respectable.
“Considering this whole case has been unorthodox from the start,” he said, “I’m going to stick my neck out and make it even more so. Captain Dace, would you be willing to answer questions directly?”
I looked at Leon. He nodded. The Durnago lawyers, especially Howard, squirmed.
“Of course, your honor,” I said.
“Tell me, did you know about the missing ships on the Kumadai Run?”
“Not when I accepted the contract. The public records indicated a difficult run, with plenty of hazards, but my navigator studied those and calculated a course that would have brought us here with no problems. With time to spare.”
“He’s that good, is he?” The judge studied me, weighing the answers I gave.
“She is that good, yes.”
“She isn’t here.”
“A cargo ship has to give its crew shore leave sometime. She should be back in about a week.”
He nodded. “I don’t want to drag this out that long. Why did you decide to answer that distress call?”
“If it had been my ship sending out the call, I would hope any ship passing by would at least stop to investigate. My ship isn’t equipped for rescue work, it isn’t designed for it. But if nothing else, we could have picked up the survivors and brought them to Parrus and sent the Patrol back. It’s what any decent spacer would do.”
“So you decided to stop to investigate the distress call even though you knew it would make your cargo late and be considered a deliberate breach of contract.”
“No, your honor, it would not have made us late. If it had been a real distress call.”
There was a murmur through the audience when I said that. Apparently that detail hadn’t been public knowledge. Even the judge looked surprised.
“Explain that, please.”
“It was a fake distress call, part of a trap that had been pulling in ships for over three centuries. We were caught in the trap. That’s why the cargo was late.”
“We’ve all heard what a hero you are,” Howard said, his tone nasty.
“Not deliberately,” I said. “I was merely trying to deliver my cargo. As specified.”
The judge cracked a smile at Howard’s sour look. “I think you met your match, Howard. I’ve been waiting for this day for a while.” He cleared his throat and said, much louder, “Judgment is rendered. The plaintiff is denied all claims. The defendant is acquitted of all charges of misconduct, negligence, or incompetence. Although, the defendant is required to pay a reasonable fine, as specified in the contract, and reimburse the plaintiff for cost of cargo and any advances paid.” He looked at me. “Sorry, that part has to stand.”
“Perfectly acceptable, your honor.”
“You still have to make your case to the Independent Traders Guild,” he said. “I have no influence with them.”
“Thank you, your honor,” I said.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Leon said to Howard, giving him his best evil grin. Howard looked as if he’d been drinking undiluted cooling fluid.
“Case dismissed,” the judge said formally.
The media in the courtroom immediately started shouting questions at me.
“Please, please,” Leon said, holding up his hands. “Hasn’t she said enough today?”
That got him a laugh. The media backed off and let me alone. I was still the hero of the month and they were still sympathetic.
We had to stop on the steps of the building, in the bright sun, and give the people outside a summary of what happened inside. One look at Howard’s sour face told the story well enough. His contingent of purple suits with white piping marched stolidly out of the building, shoving the reporters aside as they went with tight lipped, “No comment,” hanging in the air behind them.
After that I couldn’t refuse to say anything. So I made myself look happy and gave a few short statements. I let Leon have the spotlight. He enjoyed it. He could have it, and welcome to it.
Chapter 37
The Guild went along with the judge’s decision without much comment. They did warn me that this counted as one mark against me. If I collected enough bad marks, they could kick me out. It was more of a weak warning than any real action, though. So as it stood when it was all finished, we owed Durnago a grand total of twenty thousand two hundred eighty seven point six four credits, payable immediately. I took a loan from Lady Rina. I made Leon draw it up as a real loan agreement, with payments and everything else specified. I suspected he was going to somehow
manage to misplace it on purpose before it ever got to Lady Rina. I let it go. I’d pay her back anyway. I did not want to be in her debt, especially when Jerimon finally worked off his prison sentence and was loose again.
The media show died down after my court appearance. The number of reporters lurking at the gate declined steadily until it was only a dozen hard core journalists lying in wait for me. Leon said his goodbyes a few days after the Guild hearing. He came by the ship. We talked for a while about nothing much. He finally stood to go.
“It’s been a pleasure, as always,” he said, sticking his hand out.
I shook his hand. “I really hope I don’t need your services again, Leon, but yes, it was a pleasure seeing you again.”
“Don’t hesitate to call me if you need me.”
“Take care of Lady Rina.” Despite her conviction that Jerimon and I were soul mates, I rather liked the old lady.
“I’d have to beat Caid out of the way first,” he said. Caid was her engineer and had been her companion for more than forty years.
“Tell him I said hello.”
“I will. Take care, Dace.” He collected his stacks of papers and was gone, whistling as he walked away from the ship.
I was finally alone. Most of the former prisoners of Vallius had dispersed. Darus was still around, but he was busy with some project for Commander Nyles. I hadn’t seen much of him for a few days. I stood in the open hatch, in the spring afternoon, and watched the sun play tag with the clouds.
I still had the airlock door to fix. It tended to stick and made horrible noises when required to open or close. It needed replaced and the parts had come in the day before. I’d fix it tomorrow or the day after. Jasyn had called to tell me they were sailing on the southern ocean and would be gone another few days. I decided to recalibrate the power couplings in the engine. It was a regular chore that needed done every few trips. They weren’t out yet, but I needed something to do.
I was under the engine putting the last coupling back when someone tapped my foot.
“Do you always leave your hatch open?”
It was the last person I expected. The wrench slipped and I banged my knuckle on the housing. I muttered a curse and sucked on the bleeding scrape as I wormed out from under the engine.
“You ought to wash your mouth out, using language like that,” Tayvis said. But he was smiling.
I’d forgotten how good looking he was. He was tall, very well built, with lots of muscles. His dark hair was just long enough to curl at the ends. When he smiled, he had a dimple in his chin. The look in his eyes, though, caught me off guard. I was suddenly nervous. I picked up a rag and rubbed futilely at the grease on my hands. The rag was just as greasy.
“What brings you here?” I asked. It came out wrong. I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them.
His smile faded. “I saw your face all over the news. What did Lowell get you into this time?” He didn’t sound happy anymore.
“Lowell didn’t do it, he had nothing to do with it.” I pushed past him, heading up to the lounge to scrub the grease off. I used the galley sink even though Jasyn hated it. She wasn’t there.
“So what did happen, Dace?” Tayvis asked, following me.
“I took the Kumadai Run and found out why ships kept disappearing. And don’t tell me it was stupid. There wasn’t anything in the public records to tell me not to. You saw the newsvids, you know what happened.”
“I know they’re calling you a hero, which is a change.” He pulled a paper out of his pocket. It was the picture of Wade kissing my cheek. “Who’s he?”
“Are you jealous?” I asked, surprised.
“I haven’t seen you in almost two months, and I see this picture. I’m not supposed to be jealous?” He sighed and leaned against the galley counter. “This isn’t what I wanted, Dace. I’m sorry. If I’d known what you were into, I would have worried about you.”
“You couldn’t have done anything about it. What are you doing here, Tayvis?”
“We made port two days ago. Your face was everywhere. So I got leave and came to see you. Would you believe I came mostly because I miss you?”
“Not to chew me out and tell me to be safe?”
“Would you listen?”
“Probably not,” I said.
He was silent while I finished scrubbing grease out of the sink. I tossed the rag into the recycler. I turned to find him watching me, drinking in every move I made. For some reason, that made me even more nervous. I wiped suddenly sweaty hands on my thighs, hoping he didn’t notice but knowing he saw everything anyway.
“Parrus has gardens that are talked about for lightyears,” he said. “Would you like to go there with me?”
“It’s night, it’s dark out.” I didn’t know why I objected.
“The flowers bloom mostly at night.”
“Are you asking me on a date?” I’d never been asked out before. It was a new feeling. Being with Tayvis felt strange, new in some undefinable way.
“Sounds like it, doesn’t it?”
“I’d like that,” I said, smiling at him.
“I love it when you smile,” he said.
“We’ll probably be followed by half the media on the planet, though.” I didn’t know how to react to his comment so I pretended he hadn’t said anything. But I’d treasure it, in my secret memories.
“Then we’ll give them a new mystery lover to speculate about. Who is he, really?” He flicked a finger at the picture on the counter.
“His name’s Wade.”
“What does he do?” Why is he kissing you, I heard the unspoken question hiding in his voice. He really cared what I answered. Like a bolt of lightning I realized that he was as shy and uncertain as I was. He was insecure about me.
“He figures out computer systems.” As far as I knew, that’s exactly what Wade did. “Tayvis, he’s just a friend.” He was something more and less than that. He’d carried me up that cliff, I still owed him for that. But I didn’t feel the same thing for him I felt for Tayvis. “Are we going to go to the gardens?”
“Or out to dinner, or whatever you want,” Tayvis said.
“The gardens would be nice.”
“Then let’s go.” He went still, his face turned into a mask as he watched the open hatch. I turned around to see what he was looking at.
“More visitors, Dace?” Darus said as he walked in. “I don’t recognize you.”
“Who are you?” Tayvis demanded, bristling.
“Who are you?” Darus shot back.
“Stop it.” I stepped between them. I was mad, angry that Darus had interrupted and destroyed the mood. I’d never been on a date and now it looked like I’d never go.
“I should put you on report for insubordination, Ensign.” Darus had his hackles up. “For not saluting a superior officer.”
“I’m on leave,” Tayvis said coldly.
“You’re still in uniform.”
“Stop it! Both of you.” They ignored me.
“If you’re on leave, what are you doing on my daughter’s ship?” Darus snarled.
“It isn’t any of your business where I—Daughter?” It finally sunk in. Tayvis gave me a betrayed look, as if I’d lied to him.
“Darus, meet Malcolm Tayvis. Tayvis, meet my father, Darus Venn.”
I could have cut the tension in the air with a pair of wire clippers. I might have been able to fix things, except Lowell chose to make his entrance. He had Commander Hovart with him. They stopped just inside the hatch when they saw the scene.
Lowell smiled. “Good evening, Tayvis. It’s been a while.”
“Not near long enough, Lowell,” Tayvis said.
Darus looked shocked that Tayvis had spoken that way. Lowell wore a silver uniform with the insignia of a full fleet admiral. I doubted it was his real rank.
“You’ll change your mind, Tayvis,” Lowell said. “Any time you want your rank and position back, it’s waiting for you.”
“Over my dea
d body,” Tayvis said. “And leave Dace out of your schemes.”
“I had nothing to do with this, Tayvis. I swear on my word of honor.”
“You don’t have any.” Tayvis shoved his way out of the ship.
I watched him leave with a heavy sinking feeling. Whatever Lowell wanted, it could wait. I pushed past him and ran out into the night.
“Tayvis, wait,” I called.
He stopped, under a light not far from the ship. He didn’t turn around, he didn’t look back at me. I slowed and stopped a few paces behind him.
“You asked me out, whatever I want,” I said.
He half turned. His face was shadowed, strange in the dark.
“I want to talk to you,” I said, more quietly than I intended. His shadowed face made me nervous. Not scared, never scared of him. He would never hurt me, not physically.
He turned, looking past me at the ship. “Your father, Dace? You said he was dead.”
“Missing and presumed dead. I found him.”
“So I see.” He sounded bitter. “What else did you find that you haven’t told me about?”
“About three hundred other people and several dozen missing ships,” I said flippantly.
“Why’s Lowell here?” he said, deflating a bit. The bitter edge in his voice softened.
“I don’t know. It was a surprise to me, too.”
“Do you still want to see the gardens?” he offered, his way of making peace.
“It doesn’t matter, Tayvis. I really just want to talk to you.”
“Somewhere where they won’t be watching. They’re standing in the hatch.”
“The cargo doors are fairly private,” I said.
“Good enough.”
We walked that way, around the bulk of the ship to the rear where the large doors gave access to the two larger bays.
“So tell me about your father,” he said.
I shrugged. “I don’t know that much about him. He’s Patrol. He likes a good joke. He had no idea I existed until a couple weeks ago. He regrets that.”
He opened his mouth to ask something else.
“Tayvis,” I said, stopping him, “you know all about me. I know almost nothing about you. I know you hate your first name and why, but I really don’t know anything else about you.”