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Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set

Page 15

by Craig Martelle


  The room turned deathly silent. Yus slid his pad to the side to allow the delegation to read it. Maseer handed his to Rhonali, his deputy. Each side started reading, snorting and grunting as if they were undergoing the trials of Job.

  “I’ll sign it,” Maseer whispered. “On behalf of all Pretaria.”

  “As will I,” Yus said. “Keome comes to this in the best interests of its people.”

  The delegations started yelling, filling the room with noise. Rivka could not make out individual conversations. Yus held his head where the bump from his impact with the ceiling was barely visible. Maseer stood, and then sat, too tired to fight the others. He looked at the table and tried to tune them out.

  Jay dove off her chair and Rivka turned, wondering what she was doing. The bomb exploded from somewhere near Yus. The table heaved upward, throwing both delegations into the walls.

  Why? Rivka thought as her body was flying into the ceiling on its way to the wall, ending with darkness on the floor.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Red held her eyelid open. She tried to blink, but he had it solidly in place.

  “Thank God you’re alive,” he said before letting go. She finally mashed her eyelid closed and blinked the world back into focus. Her tear ducts worked to flush the dust and debris. “How long?”

  “Seconds. The bomb went off less than a minute ago.”

  “Damage?” she asked as she tried to get up. Red held her down.

  “Yus is dead, and the others are pretty fucked up.”

  “Jay!” Rivka rolled her head as she tried to see past the massive body of her guard. Jayita’s face appeared at Red’s elbow. Rivka nodded, which sent a wave of pain through her brain. “You saw it. What happened?”

  “A box appeared beneath Yus’ hands. It came out of nowhere. I hadn’t seen anything like it since we arrived. I’m sorry.” The young woman started sobbing.

  Red looked over his shoulder. The guards were coordinating the assistance that was starting to arrive. They removed the first delegate, carrying him to the hall.

  “Don’t cry,” Rivka told her firmly as her head stopped throbbing. She chalked it up to the nanos racing through her system to repair the damage. “Someone tried to kill us. We will find out who, using the law as our sword and shield, and then Justice will be served. No one brings a bomb into my house. No one.”

  Red helped her to her feet. The conference room was wrecked, debris from the table scattered throughout and the walls painted with blood. Maseer was unconscious. Rivka kneeled by his side and watched a Pretarian she didn’t know wrap a brace around his neck. The alien glanced at her with angry eyes before returning to her work.

  Rivka felt helpless. The Pretarians brought stretchers to carry the five members of the Pretarian delegation. They had workers bandaging and helping the Keome, but they were going to be moved second. Miento, Yus’ secondary, was horribly injured. Sinraloo was barely scratched, yet had been carried out first.

  “Grab her feet,” Rivka ordered. One of the Pretarians started to protest but decided it was best to step aside. Red wrapped his arms under the victim’s legs. On three they lifted, taking care to keep her steady. They hurried out, following the stretcher carrying Sinraloo. He started shaking a fist at them.

  “You better not be shaking that at me,” she shouted. He laid back, but never took his eyes from the Magistrate. She glared back. Your days are numbered, you bastard. You are Suspect Number One.

  She wished he could hear her thoughts.

  A line of stretchers waited at an elevator. It arrived, and two more went in. Sinraloo and Miento were next. “Looks like we have the same ride,” Rivka told him.

  He finally looked away and closed his eyes. The two carrying his stretcher appeared to be uncomfortable but didn’t engage the Magistrate’s withering gaze. “Since we have a few moments, Sinraloo, what did you see in there right before the blast?”

  The Pretarian slowly opened his eyes.

  “Red.”

  “My bodyguard was in the corridor,” she replied, confused by his answer.

  “Not the minion, the color. Fury from the grossly unjust trade agreement you are foisting on us! The Federation...” He let the word hang as if it were poison.

  “Who brought the box with the bomb, Sinraloo? My first guess is that it was you. Your answer suggests it was you. I could declare you guilty right now and mete out punishment. Would you like that, Sinraloo, being condemned to death for your crimes and then on top of it, getting your ass beaten by an ice-veined human?”

  “Even with my low regard for the Federation, I don’t think you’d condemn an innocent. For the record, it wasn’t me.”

  “Then tell me what you saw.” Rivka wanted to touch him to see the truth, but her hands were full with the Keome.

  “Red.” Sinraloo’s eyes remained closed. The elevator arrived, and four Pretarians rushed out carrying two empty stretchers. Sinraloo’s bearers headed into the elevator first. The nearest Pretarian blocked the entry. Red elbowed him in the side.

  “Make room,” Red growled and forced his way in. Miento groaned with the jostling. The elevator ride was tense, with the humans glaring at the Pretarians and Miento’s pain causing her more and more anguish.

  When the elevator stopped Rivka went first out, blocking the exit until Red cleared it. She looked over her shoulder to see where she was going, walking quickly backward until she entered the ad hoc infirmary set up in what looked to be a dining facility. They laid Miento on the next open table. A Pretarian acting as an orderly pointed to the other side of the hall where there were fewer people and no equipment.

  Rivka puffed out her chest and stood between the Pretarian and the Keome and the alien soon walked away. There was no space for Sinraloo. The stretcher bearers stood there looking at the table on which Miento lay.

  “Take him over there.” Rivka pointed to the side that was set up to provide minimal care. “There’s nothing wrong with his candy ass that can’t be handled over there. She needs the best care you can provide.”

  Sinraloo spoke. “We don’t care for the Keome, not in the way you are demanding. We will provide minimal medical assistance, only enough to keep them alive.”

  Rivka thought for a moment. “I think she’s dying. She needs assistance.”

  “The doctors will determine that,” Sinraloo replied, keeping his eyes closed and looking like he was asleep. “In due time.”

  Rivka and Red waited, relegated to the role of observers. “Make sure no one dies. I need to think.”

  Red grimaced, keeping Rivka between him and the wall as he spoke over his shoulder. “Not sure how I’m supposed to do that, but I’ll do my best to keep you from dying, although that’s turned into a total shit show. I expect I’ll be fired when we get back.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Rivka replied without looking up from her datapad. She continued, but Red knew that she wasn’t speaking to him. “Planetary law is superior in local issues, and in regard to immigration Federation law would supersede, except these two planets are in the same system. Federation law contemplates this situation through separate agreements but... Precedent. The courts were designed to be an intermediate body between the people and the legislature, in order, among other things, to keep the latter within the limits assigned to their authority.”

  Alexander Hamilton, Rivka thought. So old, but telling of a higher purpose—creating a legal buffer between the governed and those who govern, with separate and ultimate authority in the interpretation of the law.

  “I don’t see anything we can do,” Rivka whispered as she put a hand on Red’s shoulder and watched the first two stretchers arrive with the Keome. Two Pretarians picked Miento up from the table and moved her to the other side of the room. Sinraloo got up from his table and moved to the spot, waiting for another to wipe it off before he laid down. He never took his eyes from Rivka.

  She clenched her jaw so tightly her face shook. She wanted to scream. The la
w was her friend, until it wasn’t. But no amount of fist-shaking would change the here and now. She looked back to her pad. Pulled up the treaty. It was less than four hundred words. At the end of the clause on equal treatment, she added, “Injured sentient creatures, regardless of origin, shall be treated in order of medical priority. Any deaths shall be subject to Federation review and the treatment center subject to sanction for misprioritization, as determined by competent Federation medical authority.”

  She pressed her thumb to it and hit transmit.

  “Maybe not the cleanest legal language, but challenge it, and I’ll see you in court. Welcome to your new commitment to the Federation, motherfuckers,” she snarled loud enough for Sinraloo to hear.

  With her second mission completed—implementing an agreement arrived at under arbitration—Rivka started her new case: find the perp and bring him, her, or them to Justice.

  She, Red, and Jay had returned to the conference room, secured it, and started searching.

  “I should have paid more attention in my forensics class,” Rivka told them as she sifted through the bloody debris. “The crime scene is contaminated.”

  Red stayed less than an arm’s length from Rivka at all times. He continued to express his remorse in not protecting her from the bomb by failing to keep it from entering the conference room.

  “Trust aliens to do my job, and this is what I get,” he lamented.

  “Let it go, Red.” Rivka put a hand on his arm, only to be pummeled by his thoughts of self-recrimination. He was ashamed. She stepped back, wound up a haymaker, and swung for his head. He ducked out of reach.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Meting out punishment. You won’t forgive yourself, so let’s get this over with so we can get back to work.”

  Red cocked his head and smiled. “Make it good.” He leaned forward and closed his eyes.

  Rivka kissed him on one cheek while gently slapping the other. “Justice is served. Now find me that fucking bomb.”

  Red looked confused, but Rivka waved him away and returned to digging into the debris. Blood mixed with dust had made a plaster and clumped disparate pieces together. She used a splinter from the table to separate the components.

  “There were eleven datapads in the room. I have mine. Where are the other ten?”

  “I thought we were looking for a box?” Red asked.

  “If we eliminate all the electronics from pads, then whatever is left will be part of the bomb.”

  “What if they were carrying other stuff with them—communicators or key rings or who knows what?” Jay suggested.

  Rivka wasn’t pleased with the idea. “We have to start somewhere, and that is the best I got,” she said in a tired voice.

  “I’m not finding any datapads,” Red told them. “Or electronic keychains, for that matter.”

  “The perps cleaned everything up. A conspiracy?” Rivka wondered.

  “Had to be the Pretarians. The Keome were in no shape to remove anything.”

  “Sinraloo,” Rivka snarled. “I need to touch him. It would help if I had evidence to back me up, but it’s not critical. Complete the search, then we’re off to the hospital. I want to talk with Maseer, and I need to offer a helping hand to Sinraloo.”

  When Rivka, Red, and Jay walked from the conference room, they found two guards waiting for them.

  “We’re to escort you wherever you go,” the one told them emotionlessly.

  “Fine. Are you guys any better than the two who allowed a bomb into that room?” Rivka pointed. The Pretarians didn’t answer.

  The injured had been transferred to a hospital, which was attached by a tube train to the complex in which the conference room was located. One guard led the way, with Red at his side. The other guard brought up the rear while Rivka and Jay walked in the middle.

  “Can’t see anything,” Jay complained.

  “Such is the life of a DV. A distinguished visitor.” Rivka fought to keep her emotions under control. She was raging mad at the Pretarians for their treatment of the Keome, but none of the others had died. Only Yus, because the blast had happened right under his nose. Even with her quick addition to the treaty, the Federation would not have been able to intervene in any review of the Pretarian actions following the explosion.

  They need to be put in their place, but I can’t wish for someone to die so I can beat the Pretarians over the head because of their mindless bigotry.

  Rivka scowled as she walked. When they arrived at the train platform, she found it incongruent with what she’d seen elsewhere in the complex. It was colorfully decorated and teeming with life.

  “Maybe there’s hope for the Pretarians after all.”

  Red signaled for Rivka to stop as he backed up close to her. A contingent of Pretarians started chanting as they approached, shoulder to shoulder to block Rivka’s way.

  “There she is! Keome-lover. Keome-lover,” they yelled in unison.

  “Let me talk with them, Red,” Rivka asked, but the big man wouldn’t let her by. “Let me shout over your shoulder, then.”

  Red dipped his leg so she could stand on his calf and see the crowd before her. “I love Pretarians, too!” she yelled.

  They continued, unconvinced.

  “I have a cat named Hamlet. He’d make you all run for your lives, all five kilos of him. Please allow me to pass so I can find who bombed your delegation.”

  They weren’t listening.

  She turned to the stoic guard beside her. “I need to get to the hospital.”

  “It doesn’t look like you’re going to make it,” he replied. The guard behind her adopted the same pose.

  “I wonder how they’ll react to loud noises?” Rivka whispered into Red’s ear before hopping down.

  Red checked the overhead, pulled his shotgun, and fired into an area devoid of pipes and cables. The chanting finally stopped.

  Rivka dodged from behind her bodyguard and started to shout. “I am a Federation Magistrate on official business. You will disperse, or face the course of Justice.”

  “You will go home!” a bold Pretarian yelled back. Rivka strolled forward.

  “Dammit!” Red muttered, but he stayed right behind her, his shotgun aimed over her head at the angry alien line.

  Rivka approached the vocal member of the crowd.

  “What makes you so angry?”

  “The agreement! There was no agreement. We didn’t sign it, so we are not obligated to follow it. You have no authority here, now go away.”

  “Is that what you’re being told? That it is patently wrong. Your government joined the Federation, and your government requested Federation arbitration.” She pointed to herself. “That’s me. If Pretaria wanted to simply hate the Keome, Pretaria should have gone to war with them without signing a treaty.”

  The Pretarian thought for a moment. “Down with Keome!”

  “Protesting is your right. I judge that to be within the law, but preventing me from investigating a crime is illegal. You will allow me to pass.”

  “Go home!”

  “Three,” Rivka began. A train was approaching the station, and some of the Pretarians left the protest to get in line to board.

  “Two.” The train pulled in, but the remaining Pretarians blocked her way.

  “One.” They held their ground.

  Rivka jump-kicked the speaker in the chest, followed by punches to the left and right. A hole had been created, and Red plowed into the fray.

  “Come on, Jay!” Rivka yelled from the front as she ran for a train car’s open door. Jay skipped by the guard and accelerated. She grabbed Red’s jacket as he butt-stroked another Pretarian with his shotgun. When he and Jay jumped into the car, Rivka stepped across the threshold.

  She turned back to see the chaos on the platform.

  Red studied the Pretarian faces on the car. All of them were watching the humans. He wiped the sweat from his face with a sleeve.

  “I’m not sure you endeared yourself
to them,” Jay whispered.

  “History will show that their hatred was wrong, but in the interim, let me be the lightning rod. If they can’t respect the Magistrate, let them fear her.” Rivka held her head high and returned the aliens’ stares until they looked away.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” Jay asked.

  Rivka pointed at the receding platform. “I was following them.” The guards and those remaining on the platform disappeared as the train eased around a corner.

  Jay smiled at the nearest Pretarian. “Can you tell us the way to the hospital?” She waited. “Please?”

  Nothing.

  “You’d think with all this heat lubricating their joints they’d be more talkative,” Red offered while keeping his eyes on the others in the car.

  Rivka saw that he was still cradling his shotgun. “Put that thing away.” She shook her head and accessed her datapad. The map that the Pretarians had provided ended at the train platform. “I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”

  “What’s the plan, boss?” Red asked.

  Rivka blew out a breath. “Off at the next station, and we’ll go from there.”

  The train started to slow. “Is this the right time to point out that your plan sucks?”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Rivka replied, shifting her weight onto the balls of her feet and clenching and unclenching her fists.

  “They shouldn’t have poked the bear,” Jay suggested.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rivka walked off the train, smiling congenially. Red walked at her shoulder, head swiveling. The Pretarians stared but didn’t get in her way.

  “Looks like word has already spread,” Rivka remarked, continuing to smile as she walked. “Does anyone see any signs?”

  “None,” Jay replied. Red didn’t look for signs. He only watched the Pretarians.

 

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