Bill was bursting to speak, but he kept his thoughts to himself. When he got the flyer from Anne’s school about the citizen observation program, he promised to help her build the blinds. It reminded him of how his parents cared for the wetland next to their farm. Anne and I knew our wetland was the magpies’ last home.
“The number of deceased birds is approximately eighty-nine percent of the entire population of this endangered species.” Kilel touched a stylus to the tab. “I have an affidavit from the managing biologist at the refuge that says this loss has a ninety-three percent chance of causing the extinction of this species. In other words, the species is no longer viable and will likely disappear from the face of the earth within three years.”
Thoughts of Anne and his lost home crowded out the ritual playing out around Bill. Where is Anne? Does she know I’m here? More than anything, other than seeing his daughter, he wanted to go take stock of what was left from the fire, salvage anything useful, and start over. He’d managed to save a couple of items from the house, a few memories. The outbuildings weren’t touched. I’ve got all of my farm implements. The AIs might need some upgrades. A year or two from now—
Kilel drew herself up. “As you know, Your Honor, the charges the State will bring against Mr. Penn are capital offenses.”
Bill snapped up his head. Social death?
The judge spoke as he studied Bill. “Has the accused been advised by an attorney?”
“Your Honor, in light of my ongoing investigation, I’ve elected to postpone review of Mr. Penn’s case by a defense attorney. I need more information from the prisoner before I can allow that.”
Parker scrolled through Kilel’s report on his tablet. “I see here, Inspector, that Mr. Penn has cooperated with your investigation, though by your notes—” Parker touched the screen with a stylus “—he’s not given you anything useful.”
Bill lifted a corner of his mouth in a half-smile. After his arrest, Kilel peppered him with questions, but he didn’t need a lawyer to tell him to keep his mouth shut. Anne said nothing either. Good girl. The BES may be the most powerful law enforcement agency on the planet, but it still had to follow the principle of innocence before proven guilty.
Kilel shifted on her feet. “I consider his reticence uncooperative, Your Honor. The accused has a long record of flouting the law. The violations of the Carbon Laws due to the burning of the house alone are Class A felonies. They carry automatic prison terms of several years each.”
Bill regarded Kilel in profile and felt a flash of awe.
“I expect my investigation to take several weeks, perhaps months, to complete. Once I am ready, I will allow counsel to interview Mr. Penn. I don’t want his evidence tainted by discussions with others.”
Parker grunted, then turned to Bill. “Do you understand the spot you’re in? What do you have to say for yourself?”
Bill’s wrists were bound to a linked steel chain that encircled his waist, and his ankles were shackled. He blinked as he turned back to the inspector. The shade of her suit was responsible for the sobriquet “green shirts,” whispered whenever rebellious-minded people spoke about BES and the regime it served. He addressed the judge. What can I offer him?
“Don’t let her take me, Ezra,” Bill said, speaking to the judge as if he were an old friend. “I haven’t seen Anne or heard about my house or anything.” He hoped that Parker, who had presided over Bill’s occasional run-ins with the law, would sympathize. “You know me. I make mistakes now and then, but I’ve always paid my fines and tried to do better.”
Parker knocked his finger on the table. “Bill, how many times does the sheriff have to ticket you before you understand that it’s against the law to burn wood for heating or cooking or any other reason? The atmosphere can’t afford the carbon.”
Bill returned to a more formal tone. “I wasn’t using the stove. I was using a hot plate. The wiring on the house was old and I guess it caught. I don’t have the money to buy the new stoves.”
Kilel made a note on her tablet.
“I can’t afford to rewire the house.” Bill held out his hands in supplication. “Prices for my produce never seem to be high enough to pay the rent on my leases, much less buy nice things. Is my daughter supposed to eat a cold supper every night?”
“There’s assistance to buy the approved cooking stoves and upgrade wiring,” Parker said.
“Those are loans, Judge. Loans. I don’t want to be in debt. I pay my taxes and I pay them on time. That’s enough.”
Parker was growing irritated. “What about the fire at the wildlife refuge? This is serious, Bill. The inspector here says it’s your fault.”
“My house caught on fire, Judge. How could I have prevented an ember from drifting over to that brush? I helped the biologists with their work. I know the magpies were endangered. I’m as heartsick about the refuge as anyone.”
“The law is very strict on assigning responsibility for these incidents when they involve protected species. Someone has to be held accountable.”
Even when they are hard-working people suffering bad luck? Is mercy completely forgotten? “It’s not my fault, Judge.”
“The fact that you have a history of burning wood illegally is an aggravating circumstance. Even a fire caused by faulty wiring which results in excessive carbon emissions is a serious offense.”
Has Parker turned against me? “I’m sorry, Judge. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to hurt those birds.”
Parker sighed. “I don’t have much choice but to grant the inspector’s request. Do you know what that means?”
Bill’s imagination ran wild: Anne alone on the property, no money, her father in prison or worse, the shame of her father’s environmental crime hanging over her. She’d be able to take care of herself for a while, but people are cruel. She’d be defenseless. He remembered his vow to fight the charges, for her sake, if not for his own. “I’m innocent, Your Honor.”
Parker’s voice went low. “It could be a long time before you’re released.”
“Ezra—Your Honor—please listen. I have only one thing I can offer you...” Bill glanced at Kilel. “...and the BES. It’s my promise that I’ll stay in the valley and cooperate with the investigation. I only want to go home and protect my property and Anne.”
Parker’s expression changed from scowl to grin, as if he lay his fingers on a solution. “I don’t have to decide today whether to hand you over to the inspector. This is a complex case, and I think I should take my time.”
“Your Honor, I’m not sure...” Kilel said, suspicious.
“Bill,” the judge said, “if I release you, will you promise to go right home, and stay there?”
“Your Honor—”
Bill interrupted Kilel. “Yes, sir. I swear to God, I will.” He grasped at Parker’s offer like a lifeline. “I need to get back to Anne. Please, sir, I’d be so grateful.”
“How much is your promise worth, Bill?” A hint of certainty in Parker’s face faded into indecision.
Bill swallowed and tried to encourage Parker. “Sir, my life is here. Everything I love is here. Why would I run?”
Kilel’s voice signaled alarm. “Your Honor, this is very unusual. These requests are always granted with immediate effect. You can’t—”
Parker’s face turned red as a morning sunrise before a gale. “Don’t tell me what I can or cannot do, Inspector.” The judge pointed at Bill. “I know this man. You don’t. I’ve known him since—Bill, when did you move back here?”
“Twenty-forty-nine, Judge.”
“You grew up around here, correct?”
“My parents had a place over by Eagle Point, before the bessies shut it down—.”
Parker held up his hand. “Never mind that. Remember that ropes course at the high school?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“This was two years ago, Inspector. No one but an experienced sailor would’ve noticed the problems with the rigging. Without him, some kid might have b
een hurt or killed. He worked for a week to fix that course.”
I wouldn’t let Anne within a mile of that death trap.
“Bill Penn is an upstanding, if imperfect member of this community. He has integrity, a rare thing in my experience. I believe he’s entitled to some consideration.”
Kilel’s voice dropped a half-octave. “Your Honor, may I remind you that we are under a global state of environmental emergency. The average global temperature is up five degrees in the past century. The Arctic ice cap is gone. The western part of Antarctica is ice-free...”
“Don’t lecture me, Inspector,” Parker said, annoyed.
“...species extinction rate is still climbing. The Klamath magpie is going to be another...”
“Tell me something, Inspector.” Parker’s voice was firm but smooth. “How does a state of emergency last a dozen years? How long do legal rights have to be suspended before the emergency is over?”
For Bill, the contempt in Kilel’s face reflected everything people feared and hated about the Bureau of Environmental Security. Protecting the earth had evolved into an arrogance that corrupted the agency.
“You’ve no doubt noticed that I am an old man.” Parker’s tan had faded into splotches, reminding Bill of a military camouflage pattern. “I was once a defense attorney. When I graduated from law school, we had a constitution people respected. The government followed it, most of the time, anyway. Legal rights mattered. They don’t seem to matter anymore.” He fixed his eyes on Kilel. “While I am a judge in this county, what I say, goes, in my courtroom. Therefore, I am releasing Mr. Penn, trusting that he will keep to his word.”
Bill drew in a breath, but kept to his seat. Stay cool and calm. Stick to the plan.
Kilel’s face grew florid. “He is a flight risk. He will run.”
“You just heard the man make a promise, and I believe him.” The judge took up his stylus and wrote on the tablet. “He’s a non-conformist, and he gets himself into trouble, but he’s not a liar. I’m letting Mr. Penn go, on condition he remain on his property, until I can review his case in more detail. We’ll reconvene Tuesday at 9 a.m.”
“Your Honor, I insist.”
“Insist all you want, Inspector. My decision is made.” The judge rose, and Bill followed suit in his restraints. Parker waited until Kilel rose, reluctantly.
The courtroom’s main door opened. “Dad!”
Bill twisted around, his restraints jingling. “Anne, where were—“ The guard tugged at his arm.
“I just heard about the hearing, Dad. The bessies never tell you anything. Where are you going?”
The guard led Bill away. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m coming home.”
CHAPTER 5
♦ ♦ ♦
THE LOUNGE SERVBOT SET THE glass of 2054 Château Ste. Michelle Columbia Valley Sauvignon Blanc before Molly Bain. She sat alone at a table in the bar of the New Ocean clipper Aurora Borealis. Molly sipped, her coral lipstick leaving no trace on the crystal. A short, gray-haired man in a business suit took a seat at another table a few feet away. Acknowledging him with a glance, she fingered her 24-karat gold necklace, drawing the man’s attention to her smooth neckline and her full décolletage.
“I admire your choice of wine.” The man had a Scandinavian accent. “The art has fallen on hard times.”
Molly turned up the corners of her full mouth a millimeter. Molly had an oval face, skin the color of polished beech, and her auburn hair was arranged in the current fashion of East Indian traditional styles. A length of small diamonds covered the lighter skin beneath her part from her crown to a point below her hairline, forming a sparkling widow’s peak. “It’s amazing that the wines produced in the lower continent are still this good. The Spike has destroyed wine-making everywhere else.”
The man moved from his table to Molly’s. He was short, but well-built, and drunk. “May I?” His voice quavered. Molly sensed a hint of awkward teenager in him, though he was in his fifties. She indicated the mahogany chair with her slender hand, the sapphires in her com-bracelet glittering. He set his own wine on her table. “Allow me to introduce myself...”
“She knows who you are, Nordland.” The interrupting voice was an animal’s snarl grafted onto the baritone of a man who dominated others. Molly knew the growl, but Nordland did not, and he lifted his eyes in a mixture of horror and disgust.
“What’s the matter, Nordland? Never seen a pussy cat before?”
“You know who I am, but I’ve not had the pleasure.”
“Kapitan Gregori Ilyenevich Gorov, at your service.” He fixed his golden eyes with slit pupils on the smaller man, and Molly thought for a half-second that Gore, as the world called him, would sink his seven-centimeter canines into Nordland’s neck. The captain’s face was close enough to Molly’s that she spied his skin. It confirmed for herself that the colors of a tiger’s skin matched the stripes of its pelt. She resisted an impulse to pet Gore. She had done it before, but a bar, even one as elegant as the Bear’s Den was not the place, and this wasn’t the time..
“Gore.” Nordland wrinkled his nose. “I’ve heard of you, I’m sorry to say.”
“I know many, many things about you.” Gore’s eyes glistened.
Molly huffed. “Kapitan Gore, you’ve broken the mood.” She sniffed the wine. “It’s part of the game we cyprians play.”
“Game is the right word.” Gore grimaced, an echo of a non-modified human smile. “The question is, Nordland, which game are you playing?”
“I don’t play games, Gore, no more than you are still a human being.”
Slaver collected in the corners of Gore’s tawny mouth. “I have a tiger’s stealth and a human’s cunning.”
“You and your kind are nothing but mutants. That makes you less than human in my mind.” Nordland snapped his fingers.
“Boys, stop your posturing. Neither of you impress me.” Molly allowed herself the lies. In fact, she felt a surge of desire similar to one on the day she saw Gore for the first time all those years ago. His DNA tattoo had taken hold, and the thing she remembered was the way he stalked her at the party in the New Victoria Underground. It was in plain sight, among hundreds of people, like a hunting cat in a trembling, mist-obscured forest of arms and legs. Nordland, on the other hand, was a business partner, and she decided to confess her fib later and say his lack of fear in front of a bully made her wet. Men liked to believe such things.
“I’ve changed my mind, Nordland.” Gore relaxed and placed a paw-like hand on the chrome surface of the servbot that had arrived to take his order. “I won’t kill you now.” He drew his hand across the chrome, and a screech broke through the murmur of the low music and muffled conversation. When he stopped, five deep gouges scored the bot’s case. “I may kill you tomorrow.”
Nordland’s face was flushed. “You’re a vandal, as well as a ruffian, Gore. Check your bill in the morning. You’ll find an extra fee.”
Gore eyed Molly. His face softened, and Molly swore she heard the creature purring. “I’ll pay a visit to your cabin and we’ll discuss old times.”
Molly brushed the sleeve of Gore’s tux. “I’d like that.”
Gore hissed at Nordland and left the bar, the eyes of every patron on his broad back and gliding gait.
“That man, that thing, is dangerous.” Nordland swallowed the rest of his wine. “Anyone who splices animal DNA into that which God gave him should have his head examined.”
“He’s more snarl than bite.” Another lie.
“He’s a pirate too,” Nordland.
Molly laughed. “You’re being ornery.”
“You haven’t heard the rumors, then? The BES is sniffing around a lot of the Arctic ports, more than usual. Gore’s name comes up. So does Bežat.”
“Bežat is its own rumor. Oil refining? After the Warming and the Spike? It’s crazy.”
“Maybe so.” Nordland shrugged. “Alright, enough of Gore and carbon scandal, Ms. Bain.”
Molly half-lis
tened as Nordland prattled about Aurora, his new luxury liner. Gore’s musk lingered, a mix of sweat and the coat of a predator, and that held her attention. Even with her wide experience of males, nothing matched Gore’s style and poise when he was at his finest. That was why she fell in love with him. Like the solitary tiger in India, before it vanished forever, he moved on to other prey, other mates. They crossed paths on rare occasions, and if she was made the choice, the reunion left her exhausted. I loved Bill Penn first. Did I love Gregori Gorov best?
Nordland’s tinny voice brought her back to the Aurora’s bar. “Allow me to say to you again that your idea was brilliant, Ms Bain. To bring all the principals together aboard the Aurora for the final rounds. Here, surrounded by such beauty—” Nordland swept his eyes around the lounge, accented by Italian leather and Turkish copper, settling on her face. “—agreement is certain.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Kristian.” Molly tilted her head as she studied another couple ensconced in a booth. “We have a few issues to work out before we reach Dudinka. Fee scale details, security...”
“Now that we have taken on our last passengers, I have a feeling we’ll close our business long before we reach Russian waters.”
Rain splattered against the picture windows, distracting Molly. She made out the lights of Churchill as Aurora prepared to head north out of Canadian waters. She also saw Nordland’s reflected profile, and she found herself running various negotiation scenarios with the executive through her head, as if she were writing an AI subroutine. He was a key vote in the consortium she and her partner had bargained with for eight months, and the next days would make or break her plan to dominate the Arctic market.
Nordland placed his hand flat on the table. He swayed with the ship’s mild roll. “Once we conclude our business, perhaps we can find more ways to work together. Who’d have thought that sailing vessels might be a growth business again? That’s just one opportunity the Warming has given us in the Arctic. You still have a worldwide reputation for artificial intelligence software, despite some of your history.”
Carbon Run (Tales From A Warming Planet Book 2) Page 4