by Jucha, S. H.
“Certainly, Sir, quite understandable. I’ve activated a beacon on my person,” Major Peters said and read off the frequency to Alex, who picked it up on his telemetry display.
“I have it, Major.”
“Follow me, Sir, to the rear of the building. I hope to locate a spot that’s been reserved for government officials … and I believe you fulfill the requirement,” Peters replied. His chuckle could be heard over the comm.
“Good to have friends,” Tatia said from the back seat.
Peters jogged at double-time to get from his station at the front of the building to the rear of the stately and enormous judicial complex. Alex followed the beacon until he spotted Peters, who waved him toward a landing spot. Only one place was available, and it was a tight squeeze between two other hover cars, but Alex, forgoing the auto-landing option and remaining in manual, dropped the craft neatly into position.
“Once a pilot, always a pilot,” Renée commented, and pursed her lips at Alex when he smiled at her.
As Alex descended from the grav car, Peters snapped to attention and saluted. “A pleasure to see you, President Racine, and, on behalf of many TSF officers, we thank you for your invaluable assistance, once again.”
Alex returned Peters’ salute, and the officer directed them toward a rear door. As Tatia passed the major she slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder, and Peters flashed the admiral an appreciative smile.
As they followed the major’s instructions to reach the presiding judge’s courtroom, Tatia couldn’t contain her curiosity anymore. “Well, I, for one, am dying to know why we’re here.”
“Something I need to do,” Alex replied simply.
At the courtroom doors, a harried TSF sergeant, who had just turned two people away, spouted the line he’d been saying for the last quarter hour, before he recognized whom he was talking to, “Sorry, no more … oh, President Racine.”
“I would appreciate a front-row seat for all of us, but if that’s too much trouble, Sergeant, then get me a front-row seat and my companions can sit anywhere,” Alex said.
“The courtroom is quite full, and the prosecutor’s side is SRO, Sir.”
“I’m interested in the defendant’s side, Sergeant.”
“You’re interested in the um …? Yes, Sir. Let me see what I can arrange.” The senior sergeant jumped on his comm and a sergeant and a corporal hustled to his position. He put them in charge of handling the courtroom doors and ducked inside.
The newly posted sergeant and corporal worked to appear professional, but their eyes scanned from the famous president, to the admiral who killed the infamous Toyo, to the twins who mysteriously still wore their stun guns in a secure building, and finally to Renée who drew their eyes more often than any of the others.
“Sorry to be a bother, men,” Alex said politely.
“Not a problem, Mr. President,” the sergeant replied, snapping his eyes away from Tatia.
The senior sergeant returned from the courtroom. “I have a seat for you in the front row, defendant’s side, Sir. You’ll be sitting beside family members.”
“That’s fine, Sergeant,” Alex replied, which left the sergeant mollified but still somewhat confused.
“The others can sit at the rear of the courtroom, same side,” the sergeant said and held open the door for Alex. He ushered the four Harakens to the last row, and media personnel, who were miffed at being told to give up their seats, were overjoyed to have a fascinating twist in the proceedings to report.
It was the sight of Alex being led to the front of the courtroom and seated on the defendant’s side that had mouths hanging open and reporters speaking hurriedly and softly into their comms for their vid drones, which hovered above their heads. The judge dipped his head to Alex, who returned the gesture as he was seated. An older woman, who had been crying at the prospect of her son being charged with multiple homicides and about to be sentenced to twenty-five years of imprisonment, glanced over in shock as the Haraken president sat beside her and nodded politely.
Once the proceedings were underway, the defendants were brought five at a time before the judge, who had the charges and the plea deals read and waited while each defendant announced their guilt. Then the judge sentenced all five defendants at once to twenty-five years of confinement in a TSF-containment facility.
As the mysteries of fortune would have it, the TSF squad, which managed the prisoners, didn’t bother to request the court’s direction as to whether the twenty-first prisoner should have been included with the last lot of five or not. So, a single defendant was left to appear before the judge.
Guided by a TSF sergeant, Lenny shuffled into the courtroom, as sad and dejected a person as you would ever want to see. His days of incarceration had already taken a toll on Lenny’s demeanor and body. It was obvious that Lenny was one of those prisoners who would never serve his entire sentence.
Lenny gazed across the courtroom crowd. His brain registered people but not specific individuals, until his eyes focused on Alex. Immediately, Lenny perked up. “Hi, mister,” he said in a cheery voice and pulled free of his accompanying TSF trooper, walking over to the railing to speak to Alex, before the noncom could stop him.
When the sergeant saw the Haraken president stand, he glanced back at the judge, who signaled with his hand for the prisoner escort to wait.
“They took my rifle away, mister,” Lenny said to Alex.
“I know, Lenny. Do you know why you’re here?”
“Yeah … I did a lot of bad things for Mr. Toyo. But he was the only one who let me have a rifle.”
“I understand, Lenny, but wanting to do something doesn’t mean we should do it.”
“I’m not going to make it … inside, I mean,” Lenny said, and tears glistened in his eyes.
“Yes, you will, Lenny, and do you know how I know you will?”
Lenny snuffled and looked earnestly at Alex. “How?”
“Because you’re going to wait for my present.”
“You’re going to send me a present?”
“A special present … one that you will love, and that will help you serve your time.”
“My mom was the only one who ever gave me presents, but she died when I was young.”
As the TSF sergeant walked up to stand beside Lenny, Alex said, “It’s time to talk to the judge, Lenny. You wait for my gift.”
“Okay, mister. Thanks,” Lenny said. He was presented before the judge, and, for a few moments, he no longer looked as if he wore the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Tatia sent.
The return to Maria’s house was quiet again, but for a different reason this time. As soon as Alex could, he huddled with Julien and issued a string of instructions, which left many perplexed, but who nonetheless faithfully executed Alex’s requests.
Mickey and Claude wrapped their creation and delivered it to Maria. In turn, she made an appointment with the TSF-containment facilities commandant, whose eyes opened in surprise when he unwrapped the package. Because it was Maria who requested the favor, the commandant delivered the item and the accompanying message to the resident senior inmate counselor.
Geron Hanley knew he faced a difficult challenge with the new inmate, Lenny. He had been unable to entice Lenny into a counseling session, and the guard reports detailed Lenny’s declining appetite and unwillingness to make use of exercise opportunities. It would not be long before a drastic intervention would be necessary to save Lenny’s life.
After the commandant placed the package on Hanley’s desk and announced it was approved for the exclusive use of Lenny, the counselor read and reread the message from the Haraken president several times. It was one of the oddest approaches to therapy Hanley had ever heard of, but, at this point, he was interested in giving it a try. He rewrapped the
package and requested access to Lenny’s cell.
When the guard opened the cell door, Hanley found Lenny lying on his back, his arm over his eyes to block out the daylight flooding through his cell’s plex-window.
“Hello, Lenny,” Hanley said. When the counselor failed to receive a reply, he opened the president’s message, which laid out the dialog the Haraken requested he follow. Reading the opening line, Hanley said, “I have a gift for you.”
“For me?” Lenny asked, taking his arm from across his face. “Who from?”
Hanley glanced down at the script. “The man in the courtroom promised you a present.”
Lenny struggled to sit up on his bunk, the lack of nutrition evident in his weak and sluggish movement. “What is it?” Lenny asked.
Hanley became hopeful when he saw light shine in Lenny’s eyes, for the first time, and became a serious participant in the script. Reading the next part quickly, Hanley unwrapped the gift and displayed the replica of a plasma rifle.
Lenny attempted to stand, only to fall back on his bunk, but his hands grasped out as if he could coax the rifle to him. Tears ran down Lenny’s face, as he choked out, “He remembered me.”
“Yes, he did, Lenny.” By now, Hanley wasn’t going to deviate from the instructions. “This is a special rifle, Lenny. Let me show you.” Hanley held up the replica and squeezed the firing stud.
The TSF corporal had stood in the doorway, bemused by the odd conversation taking place between the therapist and inmate. But he nearly had a heart attack when Hanley raised and fired the replica rifle, despite knowing the weapon wasn’t real.
Lenny watched in awe as the power cell in the unit spun out a series of pulses, which wrapped around the gas-ignition chamber and spun along the barrel in a pair of blue electrical streams, ending in a visible laser pulse leaping out from the end of the rifle. Then the entire weapon shimmered in a sparkle of light that slowly faded. Lenny’s eyes glowed in delight. “And this is for me?” he asked, daring to hope.
“Well, Lenny, I have some strict instructions from the man who sent this, and I have to follow them.”
“Okay, I’ll do whatever he wants. He was nice to me … and he remembered me.”
“He wants you to eat regularly and exercise.”
“I can do that. I can eat now.”
“We’ll bring you food for a while, Lenny, until you get your strength back.”
“Then do I get my rifle?” Lenny asked.
“There’s one more request, Lenny. You have to come see me for counseling on a regular basis. After your first session, and as long as you keep coming to see a counselor, you’ll get to keep your rifle. But no shooting it after lights out.”
“I can do that. I can eat now and then come see you.”
“When you get strong enough to eat with the others, then you can come see me.”
“And then I can have my rifle?”
“Yes, Lenny.”
It would become one of the strangest sights in the history of the containment facility to see Lenny on the exercise field, practicing his shooting positions, rolling and popping up, the replica displaying its light show as it was fired.
More than once, an inmate sought to relieve the quiet and unpretentious Lenny of his weapon, only to be shocked by a maniacal response. Word worked through the facility that you attempted to separate Lenny from his rifle at your peril.
In Lenny’s world, he destroyed all sorts of things as he fired his rifle — hover cars, buildings, trees, and yes, even people. That his weapon was a replica with an incredible light display didn’t occur to him. In Lenny’s mind, the plasma beam was real.
* * *
Despite testimony from Christie, Amelia, and Eloise that indicated Azul Kadmir played some part in the events that fomented the fight that cost so many civilian lives, no charges were brought against Kadmir. He was viewed as lawfully defending his establishment from Peto Toyo’s unprovoked attack.
When Alex questioned Bernoulli, she replied that Kadmir was within his rights to wave Alex off and reset their meeting, and it was Alex who disregarded the owner’s legal right to deny access, which left him with a bad taste in his mouth. For Alex, it seemed to follow every conversation with the counselor.
On the subject of Toyo’s security people, who imprisoned the New Terran families, fought with the Harakens, and protected the drug lab, Bernoulli’s response further inflamed Alex. She accused the president’s people of entering Toyo’s domes under false pretenses and creating fake IDs by illegally manipulating the establishment’s records. In her opinion, the security people were within their rights to defend their domes against interlopers. Her only concession was to charge Dillon Jameson, Toyo’s head of security, with illegal drug production, but none of the other security people were indicted on a single charge.
Based on Bernoulli’s inquiry and trial record, Alex saw no purpose in volunteering the information the Harakens possessed on Roz O’Brien. Henry, or Wheezy or whatever, was ignorant of his compatriots’ real names and was the only individual remaining in Espero who worked for O’Brien. And even Henry admitted that it was the elusive Cherry, not O’Brien, who had hired him and supposedly killed the crew distributing the stims.
Julien had traced the rental of the Espero warehouse, where the bodies of Henry’s people were found, to Desmonis Distribution, a company owned by Roz O’Brien. But, once again, there was nothing to prove that the bodies in the freezer were put there by one of O’Brien’s people.
Both Alex and Julien agreed that the evidence against O’Brien would be viewed by the New Terran courts as circumstantial, at best. It was obvious that Kadmir and O’Brien had amassed a great deal of power, and they could only be arrested and convicted with incontrovertible proof against them for major felonies, and maybe not even then.
The Assembly heard enough from Bernoulli’s investigative panel to vote to confiscate Toyo’s domes, and they no sooner announced their decision than the government received a formal offer from Azul Kadmir and Roz O’Brien to purchase the domes.
“The sale of Toyo’s domes to Udrides Resources and Desmonis Distribution has been approved by the government,” Julien said to Alex.
“The Assembly just appropriated the domes two days ago,” Alex replied, incredulous at the short turnaround time.
“Apparently the Sers have considerable influence,” Julien replied.
“That’s an understatement. If Christie and her friends are right about some sort of collusion between Kadmir and Toyo that went awry or was even planned as a double-cross, then O’Brien and Kadmir got what they set out to accomplish. Any idea of the price they paid?”
“By my estimate, they obtained the domes at about 40 percent of market value.”
Alex shook his head, and Julien could only commiserate with him. “To paraphrase a saying of your culture, my friend, crime can pay.”
Alex started to speak but abruptly closed his mouth. He waved a hand in negation at Julien, and, wearing a disgusted expression, he continued on his way to meet with Tatia.
* * *
The final series of trials began with the chemists and technicians who worked at Toyo’s labs. In a blanket finding, the chemists and techs were given probation, but not allowed to practice their profession for five years.
The evidence against Stratford was overwhelming, and, after the presentation of extensive testimony, he was convicted in record time. His sentence was eighteen years of confinement in a TSF prison with no parole.
The longer and more complex trial involved Emile Billings. The charges leveled against the biochemist were the same as Stratford, which the Harakens found unconscionable. Testimony from Miranda, Svetlana, and Deirdre repeatedly underlined the level of Billings’ cooperation with them. Implant recordings displayed the conversation between Billings and Svetlana as the biochemist expressed his concern for his family and told the story of their kidnapping.
Terese detailed Billings’ support in creating the antidote to the add
ictive side effect of the hallucinogenic drug. She related Billings’ efforts, which led to the successful curing of the children at the Embracing Arms Orphanage.
The verdict took several days to issue. When it finally came, Billings was ecstatic to hear he was exonerated of the drug-manufacturing charges, but deflated when he realized the jury wasn’t convinced of his complete innocence. They felt that Billings was complicit by failing to report to authorities that Stratford was experimenting with the creation of illegal drugs.
Standing before the judge, Billings heard the pronouncement, and his legs threatened to collapse. The jury’s decision devastated him. Billings was forbidden to practice his profession for the remainder of his life and with that went the elimination of his university teaching post that he had held for over a decade.
After court was dismissed, Terese found Billings and his family sitting on a bench in the park outside the courthouse. Janine, the wife, was consoling her husband. The seven-year-old daughter, Mincie, sat forlornly beside her mother on the bench, unsure of what was said in the courtroom, but her father and mother’s distraught behavior was a good indication that it was terrible news for her father, which meant, to her young mind, that it was bad for Mom and her.
Billings’ elbows were on his knees and his head in his hands. His thought was that he was a waste of a husband and a father, knowing he should be wearing a brave face for his family. A pair of Haraken ship boots came into view, and Billings looked up to find Terese staring at him, hands on her hips.
“You know, Terese, the court’s right,” Billings said, his face a torment of sadness. “I should have turned Stratford into the authorities the first time he started experimenting with illegal drugs. Maybe, if I had, none of these children, ours and yours, would have been hurt. But, I thought by breaking up our partnership it would force him to come to his senses. I should have known that nothing would stop that ego of his.”
“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Ser. You can’t demur from your responsibilities just because you find the choice uncomfortable,” Terese replied, in her characteristically firm demeanor.