by Tom Shepherd
“Pretending?” Sash protested. “You shot me three times!”
Tyler smirked. “Electroshock. With a little boom to make the impact sound real. Didn’t even penetrate the fabric. Feel your caboose.”
Sash grabbed his backside. No blood wet his fingers. “You… you tricked me?”
Demarcus laughed derisively. “You had the right to remain silent, dumbass.”
Tyler shoved the smallish Quirt into a white leatherette chair at the conference table and pointed at the door. “Bring him in.”
Demarcus leaned out and motioned for Esteban Solorio to join them. Julieta’s brother was a businessman by trade, but his psionic gifts made Cousin Esteban a secret weapon for the Star Lawyers. He was also the most devout Catholic of the Matthews-Solorio children. Tyler had positioned Esteban in the corridor and suggested he should shut down his emotive reading skills until summoned. The moralistic empath would not have approved the blaster-up-the-ass charade.
“Cousin, I’m going to ask Sash a few questions. Just tell me if he’s being truthful.”
“I will not read your mind,” Esteban said to the little Quirt.
“You can do that?”
“Answer truthfully,” Tyler said. “Or refuse the question. Do not lie.”
Demarcus added, “The consequences of lying would be… bad.”
Sash looked up at Tyler, flanked by Inspector Platte and Julieta Solorio. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“First question, did you know in fact that Veraposta was planning to kill the crew of the Beagle?”
“No, Tyler Ivey.”
Esteban nodded.
“Did you know the Jump Gate nearest Annistyn was a binary black hole?”
“That is not a fair question.”
“Why not?”
“Because everybody knows that. Exo-archeologists say the Annistyn Regional Jump Gate disappeared half a million years ago.”
Esteban said, “He speaks the truth.”
Tyler pressed him. “Did you know the Gate map Veraposta provided did not have that notation?”
“No, sir. I never looked at it. Maybe she sent an ancient copy by mistake. Modern maps don’t even list the missing Gate.”
“Again, the truth,” said Esteban.
“Wait!” Sash’s eyes lit up. “It was a terrible mistake. She might not know the Gate map was defective. As High Queen, she never goes anywhere without a small fleet, and she certainly doesn’t fly the ship herself.”
“Are you saying she supplied that lethal Gate location by accident?” Tyler hoped Sash was right. He hated to think that delicious woman, whom he had briefly held in his arms, was a ruthless Bloody Mary. Maybe it was an accident. What did she gain from sending the Beagle to her ruin?
“Yes, I believe it was a mistake,” Sash said solemnly.
Esteban nodded.
Tyler paced the room. “How close are you to your sister?”
“May I refuse that question?”
“No.”
“Veraposta is my half-sister. She was raised by the First Wife of my father, the who was Third Husband to my mother.”
“Way too complex. I got lost two cousins ago. Emotionally, how close are you and the Queen?” Tyler repeated.
“I love my sister, but we were never close like your Family.” He looked at his feet, as though unable to face Tyler. “Until it happened, I never would have believed she could kill the King.”
“Can you think of any motive for Veraposta to send the Beagle to its doom?” Tyler said.
“No, sir. I can think of nothing.”
Esteban shook his head. “That’s a lie.”
Tyler scowled. “I warned you.”
“Please, Tyler Ivey. This is very hard to consider—”
“Consider it.” Tyler put a hand on his shoulder. “Or I’ll turn Julieta loose with a real blaster.”
“It is only speculation.”
“Speculate.”
Sash took a deep breath. “My sister is very clever. If she did it with malice a fortnight, she may have believed the disappearance of your family members would prompt you to drop the defense of Zenna-Zenn and fly away to search for them.”
“He believes what he is saying.” Esteban winced. “He feels very conflicted. It is painful for him. He wants to believe she is innocent.”
“I’m still not convinced you’re telling the whole truth,” Tyler said.
“I acclaim my innocence, Tyler Ivey.”
“Oh, I believe you never intended harm, but you’re still withholding.”
“No, sir,” the blue Quirt said.
Esteban shook his head. Wrong again.
Tyler spread his hands. “Sash, you’re putting me in a real pickle.”
“What does a large cucumber—oh, Terran metaphor.”
“I have one more question.” Tyler looked him in the eye. “Will you help to free Zenna-Zenn, no matter where the trail leads?”
The blue alien shook his floppy ears. “I will faithfully assist the Star Lawyers to bring justice to the Quirt-Thyme Empire.”
Esteban nodded again. “He means it, Primo.”
Tyler motioned for the Quirt to stand. “All right, Sash. Get down to the planet and find witnesses who will establish the late High King’s brutality and criminal abuse of power. I want a long list, quickly. We’ll prioritize the names for defense witnesses.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for a seventy-times-seven, Tyler Ivey.” He bowed and fled the conference room.
Tyler sat on the table edge “Here we go again. If Veraposta is involved, we may need to take down another corrupt government.”
Julieta chuckled. “I usually knock off a few pendejos. Let the people sweep up the pieces.”
“You know, someday I’d like to work on a nice, ordinary murder case,” Tyler said wistfully. “Or a huge lawsuit against some fat corporation. Maybe sue my father. That would be very nice.”
“Karma, sir.” Demarcus said. “Where do we start?”
Tyler glanced at his cousin. “Did you pack one of those image-projectors from your guild of lady-killers?”
“Two. What do you want to look like?”
“A handsome young Suryadivan marsupial-amphibian.”
“Why them?”
“Because I speak enough of their language to sell the ruse if we meet any real Suryadivans.”
She shrugged. “Oookay.”
“I also need you to track down your new friend, Jaxo—what’s his name?”
“Jaxon Akello,” she said. “Cultural Affairs Officer at the Mindorian Consulate. He’s spending a few days up here at the Orbital Hub to make business contacts with off-worlders.”
“Do they have regular shuttle flights to the Consulate on Annistyn?”
“I believe so.” She smiled. “Jaxon offered to show me the sights of the capital city.”
“Tell Mr. Akello the Matthews Corporation needs a special favor.” Tyler glanced at Platte. “Up for a little sightseeing, Inspector?”
Demarcus shrugged. “Like you said, Boss. Here we go again.”
Nine
Approaching Farroleok-7
Tuesday, 26 April 3104
Parvati’s drop-and-check system of scanning the next Jump Gate for hazards proved so successful that Suzie ordered a hurry-up sequence to optimize flight time. Her holographic crew processed the “all clear” and sent the Beagle hurling toward the next safe Jump Gate in the blink of a human eye, so quickly that a few times J.B. wasn’t sure they had actually dropped from FTL.
When he wasn’t on the bridge, J.B. either worked on strategy to defeat the case against Uncle Charlie or inspected the ship with Rodney Rooney to check for hidden problems. Rooney worried the Beagle’s structural integrity had suffered damages at the molecular level from gravitational tidal forces and hard radiation during their encounter with Scylla and Charybdis. He compiled a growing list of sub-systems, modules, and equipment to repair or replace once they reached port.
With the ship in good ha
nds, J.B. managed to catch up on sleep, and he dragged Suzie off the bridge to get some shut-eye herself. He reminded Tyler’s fiancé she was a bio-energetic entity now and needed rest like other mortals.
The pattern continued for eight days, ending when Parvati sounded the alarm to signify they had reached their destination, the seventh planet orbiting the star Meklavites called Farroleok. Rosalie said its name meant Distant Sister in Zyra-Crispin.
Ringed by thin bands of frozen ice particles and surrounded by thirty-four moons, the Terra class world Farroleok-7 was like a miniature solar system. The planet and its two largest satellites had oxygen-nitrogen atmospheres and liquid surface water sufficient for carbon based life forms. Myong-Li reported the life-supporting moons had been terraformed thousands of years ago. The mini-worlds generated just enough gravity to hold their pumped-up atmospheres, although they drew ample warmth from Farroleok’s yellow-white sun to keep surface waters flowing.
“Judging from its size and relative mass, the Meklavites must have enhanced the gravity of the largest moon,” Parvati said from the helm. “It registers as eighty-nine percent of one Terran G.”
“Bloody amazing,” Suzie said. “F-7 is still classified a colonial planet, yet the Meks terraformed those moons before humans launched their first steamboats.”
“It’s an interesting place,” Rosalie said. “Cultural database says the colony includes several dozen humanoid species, but they’ve continued as a member world of the Meklavite Union. I’m guessing the ethnic Meks retain a numerical advantage.”
When the Legal Beagle passed the night side of the biggest moon, lights from small towns in the northern hemisphere interrupted the lunar darkness. At the edge of dawn a much larger settlement, clearly a city, appeared just south of the lunar equator. They flew past the moons, dodged Farroleok-7’s icy rings, and began prelanding checklists for planetary touchdown.
“So many moons,” J.B. said. “I’ll bet some ferocious tides hammer the coastlines.”
“Sensors show no coastal cities,” Suzie replied. “Commerce begins inland, along major rivers.”
“She’s a ringed beauty,” J.B. said. “No doubt a spectacular night sky awaits us on the surface. Let’s contact flight central.”
“I already have them,” Parvati said. “We are cleared to land at the colonial capital, Bekka-Capella.”
“Population 2.3 million,” Rosalie said.
“Is that where we’ll find Charlie?” J.B. said.
His sister nodded. “All criminal trials are held at Bekka-Capella.”
J.B. tapped the intra-ship comm key. “Lieutenant Rooney, ready to park this little hotrod at a first class starship garage?”
“Yes, sir,” the redhaired Lieutenant replied from the engineering deck. “The MLC shows a full service maintenance facility at Spaceport Six.”
J.B. took his hands off the auxiliary command console, sat back and closed his eyes. “Captain Suzie, wake me when you’ve landed your ship.”
She laughed. “Yes, sir.”
J.B. tried to nap, but his mind kept posing questions. Had they escaped beyond the range of further assassination attempts, or did somebody on the Quirt-Thyme homeworld send agents to this remote Meklavite planet to finish the job? And speaking of the Meklavite situation, what did Uncle Charlie actually do to set himself up for a death sentence?
He felt the rumble of deceleration thrusters and heard the reassuring flight deck chatter about safe entry and approach vector obtained. A few minutes passed, accompanied by pinging instruments and ship-to-ground chatter. Then Parvati announced a hovering touchdown at the arrival side of Municipal Spaceport 06. He drift off to sleep as the Legal Beagle slowly taxied to its assigned berth.
Two hours later the Beagle rested in a maintenance bay and Rodney was escorting a team of Meklavite engineers to survey the wounds from their nearly fatal encounter with twin black holes.
Suzie entered the engineering deck and found him standing by a propulsion modulator. He frowned at the unit, which was designed to control flight attitudes during initial run up to maximum sublight speed.
“Something isn’t right with the lateral stabilizer,” Rodney said.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing I can find. It’s functioning within tolerance. But during our landing sequence the unit felt misaligned with engine harmonics. Like a choir member singing flat.”
Suzie inspected the instrument panel. “Did you tell the maintenance crew?”
“Yes, ma’am. They promised to put it on their checklist.” Rodney leaned against the bulkhead. “Arabie would know. The engines spoke to her from inside. I’m just an engineer. She was a thinking, feeling part of the ship itself.”
Suzie remembered her first role in Tyler’s life as the symbiotic link with his scout ship Sioux City. She smiled sadly. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you speak of Arabella since the incident. You must miss her terribly.”
“Like somebody tore out my heart and threw it overboard. Sometimes, I want to follow.”
“We need you here.”
“I know, ma’am. And I will be.”
“Did you open her letters?”
“No.”
“Open them, Rodney. It’s the only way you’ll move beyond the hurt.”
“I don’t want to move beyond. The hurt is all I have of her.”
“You have the letters.”
Rooney shook his head. “I’m not ready.”
J.B. called and Suzie left engineering to meet with him and Rosalie at the Beagle’s portside debarking hatch. The elder Matthews brother paced by the exit ramp like Tyler tended to do in times of stress.
“Since this is a matriarchal society, Suzie will take the lead,” J.B. said. “Rosalie, I need you to keep us socio-politically correct.”
The women exchanged grins. “We can handle it,” Rosalie said.
“I still have links to the MLC,” Suzie said, “but they’re not as strong as before. I’d feel better with one of my holograms along for the ride.”
“Who do you want?” J.B. said.
“Parvati is cool in a crisis,” Rosalie suggested and Suzie nodded.
“Get her down here.” J.B. went to the box of holo-projecting bracelets Chief Léon placed in the supply locker. The wrist bands allowed a hologram to maintain contact with its MLC program source when traveling beyond the range of the Beagle’s internal projectors. He chose a bronze version of the device.
Suzie contacted the East Indian beauty and issued lightspeed orders. “She will be here in—”
Parvati materialized before Suzie finished her sentence. She wore a pale lavender sari and gold trimmed headscarf. J.B. smiled when she appeared.
Suzie nodded. “Well, that’s good timing.”
“Your official task should be to take custody of the male,” Rosalie suggested.
Parvati smiled decorously. “My pleasure. I will treat him well.”
J.B.’s smile faded. “Excuse me?”
Rosalie patted his arm. “Trust me, Bear. On this trip, the women should do the heavy lifting.”
He appraised Parvati with a head-to-toe glance. “Well, you’re certainly a lovely custodian.”
She pursed her lips. “If you render faithful service, perhaps Captain Suzie will let me keep you.”
J.B. blushed crimson, and the women laughed uproariously. He handed Parvati one of Paco’s magic bracelets and thumbed toward the exit hatch. “Let’s go.”
The Judicial Center required a short trip by hovercraft to a series of white buildings along the edge of a crescent moon lake. Suzie deciphered the posted Meklavite directory with its complex Zyra-Crispin writing system, a feat which astounded Rosalie.
“We should probably start with ‘Public Access Attorneys’ in the third office complex to our left,” Rosalie said.
They waited in a lounge crowded with lawyers from a variety of humanoid species until a cl
erk called, “Matthews Case.”
Before they allowed J.B. past the waiting area, Suzie explained why she needed to bring a male to a pre-trial interview. She made up some tale about J.B. providing details about the accused, which seemed to satisfy the authorities.
A tall, slender Meklavite woman in a red robe with black stripes descending each arm waited for them beside a broad, elliptical table in the attorney-client conference room. Like others of her species, she could have easily passed for human, perhaps a classical Mexican or Central American, albeit a towering Mesoamerican. She spread her arms and spoke briskly in Terran.
“Welcome, Star Lawyers,” the Meklavite said. “Under standard rules of galactic reciprocity, we recognize the validity of your credentials as members of the Terran Commonwealth Bar for legal practice in our Union. Please take a seat at the engratiox and we’ll discuss procedure.”
“The what?” J.B. whispered.
“Engratiox,” Rosalie said. “Legal conference table, where all conversations are protected by strict rules of privacy.”
They sat, but their Meklavite guide stood aloof, a few paces from the elliptical table.
“I am Lady Kalilee Yedega, Public Defender assigned to Charles Matthews. I take it you are his family?”
Suzie nodded. “Rosalie and J.B. are his brother’s children. I am the lead attorney, Suzanne London, fiancé to Tyler Matthews, who is also a nephew. Lady Parvati is our legal clerk.”
“When do we see the defendant?” J.B. said.
Lady Kalilee stiffened. “Please instruct your male not to speak in the presence of superiors.”
“Do you expect us to honor your customs and laws?” Suzie said.
“Of course.”
“Then we expect you to do likewise. In human society, the sexes are equal. J.B. is an excellent attorney.”
“He will not be allowed to comment during trial.”
“Fine,” J.B. said. “As long as you let me participate in pretrial preparation.”
“A compromise, then.” Lady Kalilee flipped her hands skyward. “It is acceptable to the Universe.”
J.B. wasted no time on preliminaries. “I have a feeling the cultural obstacle we just encountered plays a key role in Charlie’s case. Am I correct?”