by Piers Platt
Well, it’s only been … what? Five days since we crashed?
As he drew closer to Auresh and Cadellium, neither man’s expression changed, but Falken could sense their hostility. Shep faced straight ahead, ignoring him, but as Falken passed the table where they sat, Shep jumped to his feet, reaching across his attorney, lunging for Falken.
“You killed my brother, you son of a bitch!”
Falken stepped back in surprise, ducking away from Shep’s grasping hands. Shep’s attorney grabbed his client by the shirt, struggling to hold him back, and a bailiff arrived a moment later.
“Order!” the judge yelled.
Shep tried to shrug off the bailiff. “Let go of me!”
“Are you done?” the bailiff asked.
“I’ll be done when I fucking kill him,” Shep said, pointing at Falken.
The defense attorney held his hands up. “Your honor, how am I supposed to defend this?” he asked. “They won’t talk to me, the only time they say anything, it’s to threaten to kill a witness. What am I supposed to do here?”
“Control them, as best you can,” the judge said. “We may be a backwater way station, but this is still a courthouse, not a beer hall. Let’s try to maintain some decorum.”
Shep sat down again, still glaring at Falken. Falken was sworn in, and took his seat on the witness stand.
Last time I was giving evidence in a courtroom, I was the one on trial, he thought.
“Mr. Falken, will you state your name and occupation, for the record?” the prosecutor asked.
“Sirio Falken. Until recently, I was the primary tracker and guide for Ecolympus, a dragon safari company.”
“In your opinion, what caused the Ecolympus to crash?”
“Some type of explosive was hidden in our aft cargo compartment,” Falken said. “I inspected the hull briefly after we crashed, and found a hole that punctured both engines and the hull itself. From what I could tell, the blast came from the storage hold.”
“And what was in the hold?” the prosecutor asked.
“Supplies, mostly. Expendable stuff like food, toilet paper.”
“Not stuff that would have spontaneously exploded.”
“No,” Falken agreed.
“So how did a bomb get in there?” the prosecutor asked.
“We took delivery of a pallet of goods from the Liberty Belle when they brought us our final group of guests,” Falken said. “I believe someone hid a bomb inside that pallet.”
“Objection,” the defense attorney said, half-heartedly. “Conjecture.”
“Sustained,” the judge agreed. “Stick with what you know, please, Mr. Falken.”
“Let me ask it a different way,” the prosecutor offered. “Were the Durkin brothers – Shep and Kuda – on board the Liberty Belle before it docked with the Ecolympus?”
“Yes.”
“Would Mr. Durkin or his brother have had access to the pallet while it was still on board the Liberty Belle?” the prosecutor asked.
“Sure,” Falken said.
“Thank you,” the prosecutor told him. “So the bomb went off—”
“Objection,” the defense attorney said, again. “I’ve seen no evidence of a bomb.”
“An explosion occurred,” the prosecutor said, before the judge could admonish him, “and the Ecolympus crashed shortly afterwards. You then managed to get the survivors to the research center. You were waiting for the Liberty Belle to arrive, to take everyone back here. What happened next?”
“Shep and Kuda – the Durkin brothers – took us hostage,” Falken said. “They pulled guns on us, and told us that they intended to capture several dragons, and steal the research center’s data.”
“And when the Liberty Belle and the Starfarer landed, did Mr. Auresh or Mr. Cadellium say anything to you, when they came into the research center?”
“They repeated that same plan, yes,” Falken said. “It was clear they were all working together.”
“Thank you, Mr. Falken.” The prosecutor nodded at Falken, and took his seat behind his desk.
The defense attorney stood up. “Mr. Falken, are you some kind of explosives expert?”
“No,” Falken said.
“Has an explosives expert examined the wreck of the Ecolympus?”
“No,” Falken admitted.
“So we don’t really know what caused the Ecolympus to crash. Now, Captain Muir has claimed that my client – Mr. Durkin – shot her pilot, Mr. Talus. Did you see that happen?”
“I heard it,” Falken said.
“But you didn’t see it. Did you see any of the three accused men kill anyone?”
“No,” Falken said. “But they threatened to kill us, on more than one occasion. Including just now.”
The defense attorney opened his mouth to speak, and then shook his head in chagrin. “Thank you, we’re all well aware. No further questions.”
*
The courthouse on Harrison’s Waypoint was tucked behind a corner of the space station’s administrative offices, across from the main police station. Falken walked out of the entrance and into the station’s corridor, which stretched for several hundred yards in either direction, and was dotted with pedestrians moving between various shops and offices. Overhead, clear roof tiles gave a view out into deep space. Across the walkway, he saw Vina standing with Detective Adnan, Captain Muir, and Commander Jiyake. Vina waved at him. Falken crossed over to the group and exhaled loudly.
“Glad that’s over,” he said.
“You did well,” Adnan told him, patting him on the shoulder.
“What happens now?” Vina asked.
“They go to jail,” Jiyake said, snorting.
“Pretty much,” Adnan agreed. “This is all a formality, given the massive amount of evidence against them. That’s why the judge is permitting an accelerated trial, and trying all three of them at once. The defense goes tomorrow, but I doubt he has more than a half day’s worth of arguments to make. Then jury deliberations, which will be quick. They’ll be sentenced by the end of the week.”
“I didn’t realize trials could move so fast,” Vina said.
Mine was pretty fast, too, Falken thought. The Justice Department doesn’t mess around.
“The faster they’re off my station, the better,” Jiyake said. “Good riddance.”
“You think they’ll get life?” Falken asked.
Adnan nodded. “For kidnapping and attempted murder, on top of all the miscellaneous charges? Absolutely. Auresh and Cadellium will probably get a shot at parole, many years from now. But Shep’s a repeat offender. He’s gone for good.”
“I always wondered where they send them,” Jiyake mused.
“Search me,” the detective told her. “I just make the arrests. After that … it’s all very hush-hush.”
“Mm. Well, I’ve got a ship to put back together,” Jiyake said.
“I hear that,” Muir replied. “And Talus is still in recovery, the slacker. Left me all the hard work on my own.”
“I can loan you a couple crew if you need it …?” Jiyake offered.
“No,” Muir waved her away. “I appreciate it, Commander. But I’d rather do it myself.”
“Then I guess this is goodbye,” Vina said, smiling sadly.
“Take care, everyone,” Muir said. “See you around the station.”
They shook hands, awkwardly. Then Adnan headed into the police station, while Jiyake and Muir caught a transit tube toward the station’s dry docks. Vina and Falken watched them go.
“When does your transport leave for Earth?” Falken asked.
“Tomorrow,” Vina said.
“Feel like grabbing something to eat?” Falken asked.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “We should talk.”
Chapter 3
They chose a sushi restaurant, riding an elevator down into a dining room inside a wide glass bubble that hung, suspended, from the underside of the station. Falken held Vina’s stool for her to sit, then sat dow
n next to her at the rectangular bar in the restaurant’s center. Two chefs stood in the middle of the bar, preparing the sushi, while below them, the glass floor gave a view of the space traffic below the station. Vina watched as a tug zoomed past, heading for one of the docking arms.
“I haven’t had sushi in years,” she said.
“Greban tried doing a sushi meal once, back on the Ecolympus,” Falken said, smiling at the memory. “But they shipped us the wrong kind of rice, and it kept falling apart on him. So it ended up being fried rice with poached fish, or something like that.”
“I’m sure it was still good,” Vina said. “Those donuts he made that first morning were amazing.”
“Yeah, it was delicious, as always,” Falken said. He cleared his throat, picking at a seam in the wooden bar top with a fingernail. “I miss him,” he said, after a time. “He made me a part owner in the tour company. I didn’t even know it, I just found out because the insurance company left me a message, asking me whether I want the claim money in one lump sum, or applied to the purchase of a new ship.”
Vina gave a low whistle. “That was generous of him.”
Falken nodded. “Yeah.”
“Do you think you’ll go back?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Falken said. “Hylie heard that Colonial Wildlife is going to shut down tour operations for the rest of the year, maybe longer. She thinks they might keep Olympus closed permanently. So I might not have a choice. But even if I could go back, I don’t know if I would. It was a great job, but … it would feel different now.”
“So what are you going to do?” Vina asked.
“Good question,” Falken said.
One of the chefs wandered over, and they placed their orders, pointing at the life-like plastic versions of the menu items in the glass display case in front of them.
“… can we talk about my dad?” Vina asked, after the chef had left.
“Yeah,” Falken said. “I think we better.”
“You first?” Vina asked.
Falken nodded. “Your father helped me become who I am today. He taught me a lot about … well, about being a decent person. I’m a free man now because of him.”
“Why were you in jail?” Vina asked.
“I, uh … hmm.” Falken stopped. “Well, there’s no easy way to say it, I guess. I killed a man, years ago, back on Earth.”
“Why?” Vina asked.
“He slept with my girlfriend,” Falken said. “But that’s not … he didn’t do anything wrong, really. He just happened to cross paths with me at probably the lowest point in my life, and I lost control, and I needed an outlet for several years’ worth of stress and frustration. But that’s not who I am anymore.”
“I know,” she said, rubbing his forearm reassuringly. “I’ve seen who you are.”
“So I went to jail,” Falken said. “I met your father there. He had a photo album of your family. I found it, when another prisoner attacked him. And I gave it back to him, later, and we became friends over time.”
“What was he like?” Vina asked.
Falken frowned. She hasn’t seen him for nearly ten years. I might know him better than she does. “He was a good friend. Honest, unselfish, not a mean bone in his body, but … totally driven by trying to get out of jail, in order to help you guys.”
“Help us? How?” Vina asked.
“He told us you had been kidnapped,” Falken said.
“We were,” Vina said. “Right before he was arrested. But they found us, not long after he went to jail.”
“Well, in prison we’re pretty … isolated, I guess,” Falken said. “They don’t allow much contact with the outside world: no vidcalls, no newsnet articles. But eventually we got word that you were safe – it was a huge relief to him.”
“We never heard from him,” Vina said. Falken could hear a twinge of pain in her tone.
“We weren’t allowed to contact anyone,” Falken said. “But he told me all about you guys. Believe me, he thought about you constantly. He would have called if he could. We were working together, trying to figure out how to get out of jail, so he could see you again.”
“Like, how to break out?” Vina asked.
Their sushi arrived, and Falken rubbed his chopsticks together, thinking. “More like how to beat the system,” Falken said. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Back on the Liberty Belle, you said you weren’t sure whether my father was real or not. What did you mean by that?” Vina asked.
“I can’t really explain that, either,” Falken said.
“Why?” Vina asked. “You don’t remember?”
“No, I remember,” Falken said. “But prison is a very surreal experience. Sometimes it feels like it happened to somebody else.”
Vina frowned, and put a roll in her mouth. “I feel like you’re not telling me something.”
“Sorry,” Falken said. “I know you want to know more, but … I just can’t.”
“He really talked about us?”
“Constantly,” Falken said. “He was doing everything in his power to get out of there. I thought he had gotten out, actually – I thought he got out before me.”
Vina shook her head. “No. My mom tried calling the Justice Department a few years back, and they told her he was still serving his sentence, eligible for parole in another ten years or so.”
“I don’t understand,” Falken said. “He told me he was innocent. I believed him, at the time.”
“He might still believe that, but I’m not sure I do,” Vina said. “As far as I know, he claimed to be innocent throughout the trial, but the evidence was pretty damning. Mom says his attorney argued that he had a mental break. He snapped, basically. I guess, the same way you did.”
Falken sighed. “That doesn’t sound like your father.” He thought for a moment, then tapped his finger against his nose. “Wait, now I remember. He said his father-in-law testified against him. He lied about something, to get your father convicted …?”
“Grandpa?” Vina frowned. “No. I don’t know if he testified at all during the trial. But he definitely didn’t lie about anything.”
So either my memory’s playing tricks on me, or Oz was playing tricks on me … or Weaver lied to me, Falken thought. He dipped a slice of salmon in his soy sauce, thinking. “So he’s not innocent?”
“I don’t think so,” Vina said.
“Then what really happened?” Falken asked.
Vina took a deep breath, then exhaled. “The whole story? Hoo boy. When I was a teenager, my mom, my brother, and I were all kidnapped by a man named Tevka.”
“Who’s Tevka?”
“A former employee, sort of. I never really knew him. He sometimes did odd jobs around the bookstore for my dad, but Dad fired him after he caught him Drifting in the back parking lot one day.”
“‘Drifting’?” Falken asked.
“Yeah, Drift – you haven’t heard of it? One of those user-customized drugs that let you dial up specific emotions in different combinations, like euphoria mixed with fear, or excitement mixed with shame.”
“iMoji,” Falken said. “Heard of it, just a different name.”
“Right,” Vina said. “Anyway, Tevka kidnapped us – our guess is he wanted to get back at my dad for firing him, even though it was years later. My father spent four days looking for us, and then Tevka sent him a message telling him to meet out in the woods. Dad went there hoping to get us out, but they must have argued and fought about something, and my dad ended up killing him.”
Falken rubbed at his chin. “And the temporary insanity defense didn’t work?”
“No,” Vina said, taking a sip of her water. “The prosecution argued that that would only excuse his actions in the heat of the moment. After he … killed Tevka, my dad went home, and came back to the crime scene with a shovel, to bury the body. If he had called the cops himself and owned up to it, it might have gone differently. But when they found him there, he pretended he didn’t know about t
he shovel, and all through the trial he claimed he was innocent.”
“So they convicted him,” Falken said.
“Yeah,” Vina agreed.
“I wonder why they won’t release him,” Falken mused.
“Release him? Is that even possible?” Vina asked.
“Ah, perhaps,” Falken said. “You can earn your way out … sort of an early parole for good behavior, kind of thing.”
“Is that how you were released?”
Falken nodded. “There’s a bit more to it than that, but … yes.” He’s got to pass his own set of ethical tests, I guess, he thought. But Weaver was a model inmate while we were in … how has he not passed them already?
“You said he was trying to get out, to come see us,” Vina said. “What happened? Why isn’t he out yet?”
“I don’t know,” Falken admitted.
“Did he get into some kind of trouble?” she asked. “If it was that important to him to get out, and he knew he just had to be well behaved … I don’t see why he hasn’t been released.”
“It’s … complicated. It’s not just about good behavior. And they don’t tell you exactly what you have to do, so you have to figure it out on your own.”
“And he just hasn’t ‘figured it out’ yet?” Vina asked.
“I guess not,” Falken said. “But I wonder if I could help him.”
“You’d be willing to help?” Vina asked, her eyes wide with hope.
“Absolutely,” Falken said. “But I don’t know if I can … or if I’m even allowed to try.”
“How?” Vina asked. “How could you help him?”
Falken set his chopsticks down. “I have an idea. But it’s a long shot. So I don’t want you getting your hopes up yet.”
“I’ll try not to get too excited,” Vina promised, but Falken could hear the excitement in her voice. She put her hand over his, and squeezed it.
Careful, Falken. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.