Rivka nodded and powered in for round two.
By round seventeen, she lay on her back where she had fallen. “I feel like shit.”
“Time to recharge those overworked nanocytes.” Grainger walked to his locker and got dressed.
“Could you at least have the grace to sweat?” Rivka mumbled. She rolled to her stomach and pushed up, then swayed on her weak legs. She went to the shower and closed her eyes as she let the hot water run over her. She heard a noise and looked into the training room to find Grainger beating the crap out of Red. She grabbed her towel and rushed over.
Red held up his hands in surrender, and Grainger let the man up. The anger on the Magistrate’s face was clear, but faded quickly with the bodyguard’s submissive pose.
“Nothing to see, just finish and let’s go. I’m hungry.”
The bodyguard backed away and went to his locker, then sniffed under his arm. “Do we have time for me to get a quick shower, sir, ma’am?”
“We do,” Rivka answered instantly, watching Grainger for a clue. He gave nothing away. She took her clothes into the changing room. By the time she was finished Red had showered and was getting dressed.
The three left together, Rivka and Grainger side by side and the bodyguard following at a distance, where he could intervene if they were attacked while giving them their privacy.
“I suppose you’ll tell me what that was all about?” Rivka whispered.
“Somebody spent a little too long watching something he didn’t need to be watching.”
“So you’re my protector, too?”
“I’m training both of you. He needs to watch for threats, no matter how much skin you flash. You two will be working closely together. He has his job, and that’s to protect you; nothing more. There can never be anything more.”
“Not my type,” Rivka said, glancing over her shoulder at the hulking man behind them.
“He now knows that beyond a shadow of a doubt. He’ll be a good member of your team.”
“Oooh! I get a team?”
“Do you think this is the Wild West? We aren’t sending Magistrates to the frontier with a gun and a prayer. You’re going to get a state-of-the-art combat ship with an Entity Intelligence, an EI.”
“I didn’t hear the word ‘sidekick.’ I’m feeling put out.”
“Okay, Batman. You’re just going to have to work without a sidekick, like the days before Robin.”
“Crushing my dreams. I always wanted to have a Robin.” Rivka twisted her mouth from side to side.
“Bah! He was more trouble than he was worth. It’s Alfred you really want backing you up.” Grainger nodded at his analogy.
“I’m going to have to contemplate that in my free time.”
“You’ll need less sleep now, if you haven’t already guessed. We’re halfway through today’s schedule. Afternoon chow, then legal training. The AI is set up to run you through the legal wringer.”
“Chow? Such an unappealing word. As lawyers, we should have a finer command of language. Breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, evening meal, and snacks. Why do you call everything chow?”
“Military training, and because it is. Don’t glamorize the chow until you see it, counselor.”
“I can’t simply call it ‘chow’ because of one witness. I shall reserve judgment until I see it for myself. I shall call it a late lunch for now.”
“Touché.”
Chapter Eight
The first two weeks passed at glacial speed but the last two weeks flew by. Rivka was getting antsy. She raced through her reps and stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for Red to catch up. He finished and stood, stretching out his muscles while he scanned the room, left to right, up and down, the way he’d checked out every room they’d entered. His eyes barely ever rested on Rivka.
Grainger had trained him well. Better, he had taken the training as a professional and applied it to his daily routine.
“What are they paying you?” she asked.
He pulled his right arm over his head to ease the pressure on his lats. “You don’t know?”
“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t know what they’re paying me, either. Hey! What are you paying us?”
“Need to know, and you don’t.”
“I don’t need to know what you’re paying me?” she asked.
“He doesn’t need to know what you’re being paid, and you don’t need to know what he’s being paid. No one needs to know what I get paid. You know what they say, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure I want to even try.”
“Ignorance is bliss.”
“No, it isn’t!” she retorted. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“I think it’s time that we go see your corvette. It arrived a few days ago.”
“When the fuck were you going to tell me that?”
Grainger looked shocked. “Just now. Damn, Magistrate, sometimes you ask questions that add zero value to the conversation. I’m not sure there’s enough time in all the universe to help you with that foible.”
“I may not have many foibles, but they are magnificent,” Rivka countered. “But I have a corvette. I guess I make good money, then.”
Grainger stopped what he was doing. “The Federation has a corvette and suggests you don’t damage it. Should you do so, you’ll be an indentured servant for the remainder of your days as you hope in vain that your paltry pay will one day cover the cost of your egregiousness.”
“It’s called indemnification, and that clause is in my Magistrate package. If the poor corvette gets a boo-boo, it’s in the line of duty. Indemnified, bitches. The Federation will cover it. Don’t bluff a bluffer.”
Grainger clasped his hands together and bowed deeply. “That, grasshopper, is your final test. Into the universe with you. Go forth and do great things in the name of Justice. Your chariot to the gods awaits.”
She gave him the finger.
When he stood his hands were unclasped, the middle fingers of each hand touching, the other fingers folded back. The classic double-bird.
“And I still don’t know what I get paid. If I try to buy lunch somewhere will my card be rejected?”
Grainger shrugged and gave her a half-smile. “Some lessons are best learned first-hand.”
“I used to like you,” she replied as they each chuckled at the humor of it. Red went into the corridor first before allowing the Magistrates to pass.
SOP that Rivka couldn’t take for granted. She was getting ready to deploy on her first mission and had no idea what to expect. Her nerves were on edge.
“You need to go somewhere and do something. Your coat still smells new. It looks new, too.”
“It’ll get broken in soon enough,” she replied.
Grainger shook his head and removed his Magistrate’s jacket. “Here.”
“That’s yours.”
He rolled his eyes. “You are a master at stating the obvious.” He pushed the jacket toward her until she had to take it or stumble forward with it draped over her face. He snapped his fingers and pointed to her jacket.
They stopped while she changed. His was as soft as butter and a little big, but not as voluminous as she would have expected. She’d thought it would hang on her like a bag. It was faded just enough, and smelled of something that she couldn’t place. It carried the small pin she had on her jacket. Grainger put it on. Hers looked too small on him, but she figured no one would say anything.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
“As you so succinctly stated, that jacket is mine. I’m giving this one to the cleaners. They’ll give it that weathered look you desire.”
“”I desire.’ Interesting. I desire Justice for the universe, and you know what else? I desire my nanos to fix this broken tooth you gave me yesterday.”
“Let me see,” he demanded, and bent down to look into her mouth. She pointed with her tongue.
“No shit. That shouldn’t happen. I’m going to
talk with the Pod-doc technician. You go see a stomatologist and get that taken care of. You can’t deploy with a bad tooth. How will you eat your chow?”
“No way! This isn’t a disease, just a chipped tooth.” Rivka waved off her mentor and shook her head. “I think a dentist will be fine. And for the record, the only way to stomach the chow is by shoveling it in. Does my corvette have a chef and real food?”
Grainger started to laugh. Unable to speak, he stumbled away.
She went to a nearby monitor and tapped the screen. “Please direct me to the nearest dentist.”
“Doctor Toofakre is one level down.”
“Doctor Toothacher? Come on, be serious.”
“Toofakre.” The AI displayed the spelling on the screen.
“Is there anyone else?”
“Doctor Payne is on the other side of the station.”
“Toothache or pain, pick your poison. I’ll give Toofakre a shot. If he hurts me, well, I’ll make him feel it.”
The barrister took the stairs down, preferring not to be trapped in an elevator. She wasn’t a fan of strangers, and even less of being confined in a tight space with them. Red was with her, but she didn’t have to put up with others.
When she reached the next level, she saw the sign—a big picture of a tooth. Just the thought of it made her mouth hurt, but she had already cut her tongue once on the sharp edge. She didn’t need to do it again. She committed and strode briskly to the door, and it opened as she approached.
“Magistrate Rivka, we were notified you were coming. We’ve been expecting you.”
“For all of two minutes?” Rivka wondered if her fellow Magistrate had set her up.
“We were informed as soon as you asked, so yes—for all of two minutes. We don’t get many celebrities, you see.”
“I’m hardly a celebrity,” she countered.
“But people of your station have nanocytes that usually repair the damage. For whatever reason, yours have not. Please come into the back and let’s get you fixed up.”
“Are you the dentist, Dr. Toofakre?”
“Yes, that’s me. An unfortunate family name, but I’m Tyler Toofakre the Fifth. I don’t have much choice.”
“But you don’t look like a dentist.”
“How am I supposed to look?”
“I don’t know, but you look like a normal person. You don’t have any bodies hidden in the back, do you?”
Toofakre laughed and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “I’m afraid not. If I go to jail, it won’t be for that.”
“What will it be for?” She fixed him with her piercing gaze and lightly touched his arm. In her mind she saw flashes from his life, but no crimes. Looking into someone’s mouth, watching a movie, playing a video game, and drinking a beer with dinner.
“For being too boring, Barrister. I have to admit that I enjoy a life that’s less exciting. It’s nothing like yours. I suspect you chipped that tooth while bringing a criminal mastermind to Justice, delivering his punishment as he begged for mercy. Don’t hurt me! Aha, Doctor Evil, your tidal wave of terror is over. You have crashed against the bulwarks of Justice!”
Rivka raised one eyebrow and contemplated going to Dr. Payne.
“Climb into the seat, and let’s get that tooth of yours sorted so you can be on your way, keeping peace on the station and delivering Justice throughout the galaxy.”
“I don’t like pain in my mouth.”
“That makes two of us. I have this pen-shaped syringe that makes it easy to deliver the anesthetic. You shouldn’t feel a thing.”
“I can’t take you seriously as a dentist.” Rivka held up a hand as the doctor leaned toward her, with his safety glasses firmly in place. The magnifying lenses had been flipped up, and he held his instruments steady a few finger-widths from her mouth.
“Why not?”
“Because you look and act...normal.”
“If you want Max Loony, you’ll have to see Doctor Payne.”
“So my choice is Toofakre or Payne?”
“Yes. Seems clear to me. Shall we?” The dentist motioned for her to open her mouth.
Rivka hesitantly complied. “But, normal,” she mumbled as he went to work. Red stood against the wall with his arms crossed and watched the door.
The corvette was too big to fit in the small hangar bay of the station, even though it was only designed for a maximum of twelve crew and passengers.
Grainger led her to the top of the station, where a long access tube terminated at a closed airlock. As the group approached, it popped open and they walked through. The ship’s hatch before them opened while the airlock door behind them closed. Grainger bowed and waved an arm toward the corvette. “Your ship.”
Rivka hesitated only a moment before entering. She stopped and breathed deeply of the dry but clean recycled ship’s air. She ran a finger over a horizontal surface and looked at it.
“I assure you, Magistrate, that the ship is immaculate. The air-handling system removes all of the dead skin and cat dander before returning oxygenated air back to you,” a voice said over speakers placed throughout the ship. “Welcome aboard, Magistrate Rivka.”
“Nice to be here, whoever you are.”
“My sincere apologies, Magistrate. I’m Charles Woodworth the Third. Most people call me Chaz.”
“Nice to meet you, Chaz. Let’s have a look at how beautiful you are.”
Vered cleared his throat. “Magistrate? Cat dander?”
“I heard it. I ignored it, since Grainger has accused me of stating the obvious. Clearly, there is a cat on board.”
“I hate cats.”
“What about dogs?”
“Dogs too. They’re vermin, no better than rats. Can we have him removed?”
“Blasphemer!” Rivka shouted in an unusually loud voice, pointing one accusatory finger at her bodyguard. “We most certainly will not remove the cuddly kitty from the ship. We’ll consider that little fuzzball as standard government Issue. Anything happens to him, he’ll be replaced by two more. Do you understand?”
“Yes, but I don’t like cats or dogs.”
“That is a colossal improvement!” Rivka declared. “From hate to don’t like. We’ll take that as a win.”
“But, but...” Red stammered.
“Carry on with the tour, Chaz.”
“Yes, ma’am!” the EI replied. He walked the group to the bridge first to wow them with the technology.
“Nice, Chaz, but we don’t have to fly the ship, do we?”
“I will fly the ship for you, but you can fly it too, if you wish.”
“Maybe someday, but today is not that day. Nor is tomorrow, for that matter.” Rivka looked at Red. “Do you fly?”
He pointed at himself with both hands and shook his head. “If I’m flying the plane, who’s guarding the client?”
“I might suggest that if you’re flying the ship, the client doesn’t need to be guarded.”
“Client always needs guarding. You leave that part to me and flying the ship to your new bestest buddy.”
“That’s me,” Chaz replied. “I shall fly the ship while you partake of your human concerns. Next stop, the mess deck slash recreation room slash living room slash anything not sleeping or flying room.”
“Do I hear you saying that there are cabins for sleeping, the bridge, and one other space on board this tub?”
“There is a storage area as well, but that’s filled with stuff that needs to be stored.”
“Lead on, kind EI.” Rivka made big eyes at Grainger.
He yawned. “But it’s a corvette.”
“Sounds sexy until you get in,” Rivka replied. The mess deck was open, with various elements that could be extended and retracted, like a table with bench seats. Six recliners were tucked into the side bulkhead. They folded out to face a wall screen on the opposite side. A weight bench could be raised from the deck. There was a single bar and no weights.
“What the hell am I supposed to do wit
h this?” Red asked, picking up the bar.
“It’s magnetic,” the EI replied. The bar was yanked toward the metal deck, taking Red with it. It hit and stuck. The rings on each end kept his hand from being pinned underneath. He picked himself up from the deck, looking around sheepishly.
“I guess we’ll try to make that work,” Red said softly.
The kitchen contained a food processing unit and one drink station. “This is for twelve people?”
“It will service twelve people without any problems.”
“As only an EI can say it. If there were twelve people squeezed aboard this thing, there would be problems. By the way, what’s her name?”
“Federation Corvette Seven Seven Four.”
“That’s a hull number. What’s her name?” Rivka pressed. Grainger shook his head. “Looks like we get to name her.”
Red pointed at Rivka. “You get to name her. I don’t give an upside-down flying goat-fucking nut roll whether this tin can has a name.”
“I’ll take care of it. I can’t have my baby without a name. Maybe Lucretia.”
“Two seconds ago you were hating on your ride and now she’s your baby?”
“Yes. It’s just how things are going to be. Oh, Chaz, darling, lead me to the luxury Magistrate’s suite, please.”
“Prepare for disappointment.” Grainger wouldn’t look at her.
“Buzzkill,” she shot back.
“Down the corridor. There are six cabins on the port side.”
“I thought this ship could carry twelve people?”
“Now she’s starting to get the picture.”
“Everyone doubles up? The barbarity of it all. You’d think The Queen’s Magistrate would be treated better. I’ll have to send Bethany Anne a personal note stating my dismay.”
Grainger raised one eyebrow. “I doubt the Queen will have any sympathy. You get a cabin to yourself. Stop whining and cradle your baby to your bosom.”
Rivka gave Grainger a five-second stink-eye. Red squeezed past the Magistrates and started opening doors. “These are better than my first apartment.”
“How’s that?” Grainger asked, staring without blinking at Rivka’s golden-blue hazel eyes.
Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set Page 7