But Conorado was shocked to see Hoxey again. She had aged. Still, she stared at him with burning eyes. Clearly, her attitude was that he had thwarted her and must suffer for it.
“Plaintiff, respondent, and respective counsel, please enter the judge’s chambers,” the bailiff announced, holding open the door to Judge Epstein’s makeshift chambers.
“We won’t be more than ten minutes,” Heintges whispered to Cazombi and Nast. “Stay out of trouble while we’re in there. We’ll all have lunch together when the judge dismisses us for the day.”
Judge Epstein sat behind a battered old desk. He was dressed in casual street clothes. A group of chairs was arranged on each side of the room for the respective parties to the case. “All right, this court is now in session,” Epstein said. “Be seated.” He gestured at the chairs. “Ladies and gentlemen, this case is most unusual, and as you all know, classified ultrasecret, although I don’t understand for one goddamned minute why.” He glared at the lawyers. “Now I don’t want this thing to drag on and on, understand? Make your pleadings, present your evidence and witnesses, and conduct your examinations with dispatch. Nobody’s watching, there are no reputations to be made here, and I’ve seen it all so don’t try to impress me. All right, who’s who here?”
The lawyers introduced themselves.
“Okay. How do you plead, Captain Conorado?” the judge asked.
Conorado stood. “Not guilty, Your Honor.”
“Your Honor . . .” Heintges stood. “We ask that you dismiss this case. I introduce as Exhibit A the Bureau of Human Habitability Exploration and Investigation charter. Section 108–2 clearly states that vivisection of sentient alien beings is prohibited.”
“Your Honor . . .” Hoc Vinces jumped to his feet. “Defense is referring to paragraph 22b of Section 108–2. It is our contention that it does not specifically and categorically prohibit medical and scientific examination of alien beings, sentient or otherwise. It does authorize examinations.”
“Your Honor, the word used in the charter is ‘examination,’ ” Heintges said. “Examining a specimen of any kind is different from experimenting on one, especially one that is sentient.”
Judge Epstein studied the charter for a while. He sighed and addressed Heintges. “Consul, I find the wording vague and open to interpretation. Motion denied.”
“Then, Your Honor, I ask the court for a continuance.”
Epstein looked annoyed. “Why?”
“I have not had a chance to prepare my witnesses, Your Honor. And I plan to subpoena more witnesses. I haven’t had sufficient time to do that. Besides, Captain Conorado only arrived here yesterday. And he has asked for another person to join us as coconsul. It’ll take some time to get him cleared.”
The woman sitting with Hoxey—her coconsul Drellia Fortescue—whispered something to Hoc Vinces and stood up. “We object, Your Honor!” Hoxey’s lawyers were extremely well-dressed. Fortescue was slightly overweight, blond but frumpy, yet her voice was deep and sexy; Vinces was thin and dark-haired, clean-shaven, but his beard, which would have been thick and black if he’d let it grow, gave his cheeks a permanently bluish, four o’clock tinge.
“These other witnesses include the former director of our agency. Lieutenant Heintges is grasping at straws here,” Fortescue continued, “trying every tactic he can to delay this court from getting down to its appointed duty.”
“Well, counsel, seems to me defense’s request is reasonable enough,” Judge Epstein responded. “Balls of fire, Drellia, why wasn’t Heintges given the time he needs to prepare his case anyway? Am I dealing with amateurs here?”
“Sir, plaintiff is not well. We feel the continuation of this case for any reason would be detrimental to her health. Besides, the facts in this case are very simple. The defense does not need extra time to prepare his witnesses. And frankly, Your Honor, the defense’s request to add another person to his team just seems to us a ploy to further delay the proceedings.”
“What’s wrong with your client?”
Fortescue looked sympathetically at Hoxey, who slumped in her chair, glowering at Conorado. “Dr. Hoxey is suffering from exhaustion, Your Honor. The preparation for this trial, not to mention the traumatic events that the respondent precipitated at Avionia Station, have severely undermined her health.”
“Well, Dr. Hoxey, are you healthy enough to sit through this trial?” Epstein asked.
Hoxey rose to her feet. Conorado was surprised to see that she had to lean on the table for support. “Yes, Your Honor,” she rasped.
“Lieutenant?”
“Your Honor, Captain Conorado is charged with a very serious crime,” Heintges said. “His entire life is at stake here. I must point out that he has spent his entire adult life defending the citizens of this Confederation and—”
“Captain Conorado,” Judge Epstein interrupted, “I’ve read your file. I wouldn’t object if my own son were to serve under an officer like you. But,” he addressed Heintges, “come to the point.”
“He deserves every chance to defend himself. My respected colleagues,” Heintges nodded at Vinces and Fortescue, “have had plenty of time to prepare, while I have not. And I would respectfully add, sir, that the facts in this case are not as simple as Ms. Fortescue implies they are.”
“Who’s your cocounsel going to be, Lieutenant? Anybody I know?”
“A retired navy commander, sir, named Henry Tuit.”
Judge Epstein’s eyebrows arched in surprise and Vinces laughed outright. Vinces stood up. “Your Honor, this is a farce! Tuit is the man who just lost a valuable cargo ship. Only a crazy man would ask a fool like that to—”
“Enough of that! Is this Tuit the same man who’s been in the news recently?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And your client wishes this man to join him as counsel?”
“Yes, Your Honor, as is his right.”
“I know, I know. How long will it take to get him cleared?”
“Your Honor, he’s a former navy officer who had the highest clearances. I will ask the staff judge advocate to hurry up the clearance process. I would ask the court for five days, no more. I also ask the court to grant a travel dispensation for my client. I want him to accompany me to the staff judge advocate’s office this morning.”
Judge Epstein drummed his fingers on his desk. “Okay. Bailiff, call in the witnesses.” The little room was severely crowded by the time everyone had crowded in. “I am going to adjourn this court to give the defense more time to prepare. I am not going to sequester you, although I understand, Captain Conorado, that your military superiors have in effect restricted you to the confines of Camp Darby for the duration of this trial. But I remind you all about the rules of secrecy that cover these proceedings. You all know what they entail, so I don’t have to enjoin you to discuss these hearings with no one but your counsel.” He slammed his fist down on the desktop. “This court is now adjourned until 0700 hours next Thursday.”
Filing out of the judge’s chambers, Hoxey stumbled and would have fallen had Abraham not caught her. “Old girl really looks on her last legs,” Nast whispered.
“Understand Abraham married her back a little while ago,” General Cazombi commented.
“No accounting for affairs of the heart,” Nast responded.
“Well, I really must’ve stepped on her teat,” Conorado said. “I’ll go to my grave believing I had no choice, but still, I feel sorry for her.”
Heintges took his party aside. “Lew and I are going to the SJA’s office right now. Can we all meet back at my office at say 1300 hours, have lunch together there? The place has been screened, so we can talk about the case without fear of compromising security. We’ve got a lot of work to do before next Thursday.”
Nast nodded his assent. “We aren’t going very far,” he remarked, “since they’ve put us all up here at Darby until the trial’s over.” He looked at Cazombi. “How’s your quarters, General?”
“Adequate,
” Cazombi replied. “Lew, keep a stiff upper. We’ll get you out of this. See you all at lunch.”
The staff judge advocate was a red-faced army colonel. “Request denied!” he thundered, his face growing even redder. “I have never heard of anything so stupid! Are you crazy, Captain, to make a demand on the legal system like this?”
Heintges was about to say something but Conorado laid a hand on his arm. “Colonel, I am sick and goddamned tired of people calling me crazy. Now, either you get Tuit cleared to sit as my coconsul or I fire Lieutenant Heintges here, and when a new lawyer is appointed for me, I fire him too, and so on until either Hoxey or I die of old age.”
“Well—Well,” the colonel blustered, “I didn’t mean to say you’re mentally unbalanced, Captain, excuse me. It’s just that this request is a bit, uh, unusual, you might say.”
“He’s perfectly within his rights,” Heintges added.
“Yes. Well, I’ll have him here as soon as possible.”
Lunch for the quartet consisted of sandwiches ordered from the Camp Darby post exchange. They took their time eating, although Aldo kept reminding them of all the work that lay ahead. At 1700 hours General Cazombi broke out a bottle of bourbon and they drank it in paper cups.
General Cazombi told the first story, an adventure he’d had when he’d been a lieutenant many years before. Conorado reciprocated. Nast and then Heintges contributed their own tales. By 1800 they were well into the bottle.
“How’s Claypoole?” Nast asked Conorado.
“Huh? You know Claypoole?” Conorado asked, astonished.
“Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but to hell with it. Yeah. Remember when he and Dean were sent off on special TAD, as ‘Marine security detail’ on a survey ship?” He told Conorado about what had happened on Havanagas. The captain sat openmouthed as Nast related the story.
“Well, I’ll be a shithouse mouse!” he exclaimed when Nast was done. “And Claypoole broke your nose?” Conorado laughed.
Nast laughed and fingered his nose. “Yep. Not that I didn’t deserve it.”
“Well, Thom, let me tell you something about Claypoole. He just saved my ass.” Then, remembering the injunction about discussing what had happened on the Cambria, he changed the subject. Apparently, Nast and the others had had enough to drink at that point that nobody noticed.
At 1900 hours, much to everybody’s surprise, there was a knock on the door.
“Well, gentlemen,” Hank Tuit said as he entered the room and took in what was going on, “I lose my ship, get set up to put my best friend in jail, and now I’m in with a bunch of drunks. Anything left in that bottle for a guest?”
Conorado introduced Tuit.
“That was fast!” Heintges said. “Close the door, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Tuit glanced around the room, taking in the mess, pretending to be offended by what he saw. “Yeah,” he commented sourly, “looks like you been at it all afternoon too.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Hank,” General Cazombi said, a slight twitch to the right side of his face indicating he was enormously pleased with his surroundings. He pulled another bottle of bourbon out of his briefcase. “Never go anywhere without my medicinal medicaments.”
“We really should get down to work, now that Hank’s here,” Aldo said.
“Eh, take it easy, Aldo, the night’s young and we’ve got until next goddamned week,” Conorado said. “You gotta get to know Hank better before we start talking business.”
“ ‘Get to work’ my ass!” Nast said. “Who the hell can do any work after all the bourbon we’ve had to drink? May as well get plastered. Hell, it may be the last time old Lew here’ll have a chance to lift one with friends. They don’t have bourbon on Darkside, Lew!”
Everyone laughed except Conorado.
“Hey, Lew, they don’t have seegars up there either!” Tuit said. “But we do here!” He pulled a box out of his pocket and produced five Anniversarios No. 2, which he passed out.
“Gawdamn,” General Cazombi said, “that’s nearly a month’s pay for a general!”
“Two months’ pay for a mere captain,” Conorado said, taking one and biting off the end.
“General, I am a civilian now,” Tuit said, “so I get my pay as a ship’s master and a retirement stipend from old Mother Navy.”
“Don’t call me ‘General,’ Hank. It’s Al, short for Alistair. Tell us what happened to your ship.”
Tuit became serious. “Bad accident, Al. Lew was with me. Hadn’t been for him, neither of us would be here now.”
“Hadn’t been for Claypoole and Dean, neither of us would be here now,” Conorado added. Then he realized he’d said too much. He exchanged a guilty look with Tuit, which General Cazombi caught.
“Okay, boys, what really happened? We heard the news about your propulsion unit going critical and all that crap. Never believed a word of it. Give us the scoop, this office is secure.” Cazombi blew out a large cloud of smoke and sipped from his cup.
Tuit and Conorado exchanged glances again. Tuit shrugged. “What the hell,” he said. “If anybody’s listening, get fucked.” He told them what had happened.
“So that’s what you meant when you said Dean and Claypoole had saved your life,” Nast said.
“Lew,” Heintges said, “if we could only make that story public, nobody in his right mind would find you guilty of breaking the law on Avionia Station.” He sighed. “But we can’t make it public.”
“So let’s kill this bottle,” Tuit suggested, “and we’ll worry about our heads in the morning, while Lew worries about his ass, but tonight we don’t worry about nuttin’.”
The next thing Conorado knew, Aldo Heintges was shaking him awake. He could remember leaving Aldo’s office in the early morning hours, staggering down the darkened streets of the main post at Camp Darby to the bachelor officer’s quarters and undressing, but he didn’t recall going to sleep.
“Gawdamn,” he muttered, “my mouth tastes like a whole regiment of Siad warriors marched their horses through it. What the hell’s up, Aldo?”
“Hoxey’s dead.”
Conorado sat straight up in his bed. “What!”
“She died last night, Lew. Judge Epstein wants to see us all in the courtroom at ten hours, and it’s eight hours now. Let’s get moving.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, she died sometime last night, while we were carousing.”
“Well—how?”
“Lew, I don’t know. But I think you’re off the hook. Look, a couple days ago I subpoenaed the former chief of BHHEI, Dr. Blossom Enderly. Her sworn statement just came in this morning.” He held up a crystal. “She couldn’t make it in person for her own health reasons, but it’s your ticket home. Now get dressed and let’s get moving.”
Everyone sat quietly in the anteroom to Judge Epstein’s chambers. Conorado noticed that Dr. Abraham was missing. That was understandable. Nobody had much to say to anybody else. The bailiff emerged from the judge’s chambers and summoned everyone into the court. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “court is now in session, the Honorable Stefan Epstein presiding.”
Judge Epstein addressed the court: “I have called you all in here this morning because I am going to conclude this trial today, one way or another. I know it’s cramped here in my chambers, but please bear with me.
“Counsel for the plaintiffs, I understand Dr. Hoxey passed away last evening. You have my condolences.”
“That is correct, Your Honor. She died of heart failure, apparently. Dr. Hoxey has been ill for some time, brought on by the traumatic events precipitated by the respondent—”
“That’s enough, counsel.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Vinces blushed. “But BHHEI believes a serious crime was committed, and I request that the court continue this trial to a conclusion.”
“Lieutenant Heintges?”
“Your Honor, may I introduce retired navy captain Henry Tuit, my coconsul?” Tuit stood.
Judge Epstein nodded at the bailiff recorder. “He just got in last night, Your Honor.”
“Looks like it,” Judge Epstein murmured dryly. “Gotta be the fastest case of granting a clearance on record. The Cambria was your ship, wasn’t it, Captain? Sewall’s gonna take a bath on that one. You’ll have to tell me all about it when this business is over.” Tuit managed a sickly grin.
“Sir, I move that the court dismiss the charges against Captain Conorado,” Heintges continued. “I have here a sworn statement from the former chief of the Bureau for Human Habitability Exploration and Investigation that fully clears my client of these charges. She was chief during the time this alleged crime was committed.”
“We haven’t seen that!” Vinces protested.
“Now you will see it,” the judge said. “Bailiff, introduce this crystal as Exhibit B and then put it on the reader so everyone can see it.”
Dr. Enderly’s face appeared on the screen. She identified herself, said something about how long she had been chief of BHHEI, and then: “I have reviewed the statements presented to me by Lieutenant Aldo Heintges on behalf of his client, Captain Lewis Conorado, Confederation Marine Corps. I have this to say: As head of the BHHEI, I never authorized experimentation of the kind described in these statements, and if Dr. Thelma Hoxey was performing experiments of this nature, they were in direct contravention of the bureau’s charter, as I understood the charter, and all the rules of common human decency. Instead of putting this Marine officer on trial, he should be thanked for what he did on Avionia Station.”
The judge’s chambers were totally silent after Enderly’s statement was over.
“Your Honor,” Vinces said, “Dr. Enderly is retired and her health is very fragile. I ask the court to consider that in evaluating her statements.”
“I suppose you’re going to say something like that about me, because Thelma died last night?” a voice said from the back of the room as Dr. Omer Abraham stepped inside. “Your Honor, I loved my wife, but what she did to those Avionians was wrong.” Abraham walked down the short aisle between the chairs and stood before Judge Epstein’s desk. His face was haggard and his eyes red-rimmed but he stood with his back straight and his fists clenched by his sides. “I opposed those hideous experiments from the start, and Thelma and I argued about it continuously. It was wrong. The Avionians are sentient beings, not animals, and what she ordered done to them in the name of ‘science’ wouldn’t be permitted on an animal, much less a creature with a soul. The captain was right to stop it. But I should have done that myself long before he ever came along. I should be on trial here for not doing the decent thing, not Captain Conorado, who had the guts to do it himself. I had to come here to tell you that this morning, sir. I had to.” Abraham seemed to wilt after he finished speaking. He just stood there looking at the judge in silence.
Starfist: Kingdom's Swords Page 30