The audience of Tier 1 Fleet officers audibly reacted, their hushed voices amplified by the open architecture of the makeship courtroom. It was day three of my trial, and according to my exceptional lawyer Lieutenant Bergstrom, it was close. She could go see it going either way.
Now, Knight had just committed perjury on the witness stand…
… and did it with flawless execution. He had played his hand, and his play was a stone-cold bluff. Now, my life depended on the skills of my legal representative to expose Knight, and ultimately, whether or not Admiral Bradford believed his side of the story.
I sat as the accused now, chained and humiliated, glaring at Knight with more hatred than I believed was possible to possess. There was nothing I could do; any sort of emotional outburst would certainly lose me everything.
“OBJECTION, ADMIRAL!” Bergstrom screamed on my behalf. Even under the gravity of my situation, even in my rage, I was yet again impressed with her skills and her strength of presence. “Lieutenant Roberts just called into question the sworn testimony of a highly decorated Unity Officer! This is outrageous!”
Admiral Bradford considered my lawyer. He was a very, very powerful man. His influence reached far beyond Unity, the Earth System, even beyond the Cosmic Gate. Bergstrom met his gaze without a trace of fear. I hoped in that moment her fervor would rouse him, somehow, and that he would display his legendary temperance and decision making ability. He thought for a long while, his hand stroking the white, sharply-trimmed edge of his beard.
“Lieutenant, please sit down.” He ordered.
Bergstrom took her seat immediately, and even though I didn’t want to, I sensed that she was slightly shaken at how her objection had been received by Admiral Bradford. I was, too.
“I agree with you, Lieutenant,” the Admiral continued speaking only once silence was absolute in the courtroom. “Calling into question Lieutenant Fujira’s honesty is a serious accusation. That’s why I’ll allow this line of dialogue to continue for the time being, so that we might learn the truth of the matter. Objection overruled.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” the prosecutor bowed his chin in a show of respect, then delivered his rebutal: “Let me remind this court, that during the course of the events which bring us here today—which includes egregious violations such as the refusal of orders to retreat, the engagement of unknown enemy forces, and the dangerous tactical decision to execute an unauthorized maneuver—these are all decisions made by Lieutenant Derringer, and he alone. We’ve all analyzed the flight information holograms: so we can all reasonably agree that it was in fact Lieutenant Roberts who retained his military bearing, his emotional composure, and his adherence to the military code of conduct. Despite Lieutenant Derringer’s lapse in leadership capability, Lieutenant Roberts obeyed the orders of his direct superior even in the face of avoidable mortal danger. Is that how you would describe your experience, Lieutenant?”
Knight gave a stiff nod. “Yes, it is, Sir.”
“Lieutenant, how would you describe Lieutenant Derringers leadership ability?”
“Well,” he answered with an innocent shrug, “As a pilot—as ‘Clockwork’— the Lieutenant is probably the most gifted I’ve ever seen or heard of. His adaptation to the neural link implant is genius-level. I mean, he led myself and Lieutenant Fujira directly into incoming enemy fire not once, but twice, in his utilization of ‘The Arc’ technique. Sometimes I can sense him influencing my mind through the neural link…”
He paused for effect, giving the impression that he really believed I could control his mind.
“... and that’s why after our regrettable misconduct on Cantus 9, I began to have serious doubts about Lieutenant Derringer’s mental aptitude. His words, his thoughts—everything about the Lieutenant is a reflection of his inner need to control. I’ve known him for some time now, and my honest opinion is that he only cares about making it to Tier 1 status, to the top of the pilot Ranking Charts, and ultimately to acquire as much personal satisfaction and notoriety as he possibly can.”
The way Knight twisted the truth was masterful. I could only sit in silence as he publically destroyed my reputation.
“In your opinion Lieutenant Roberts, do you believe that when Lieutenant Derringer initiated ‘The Arc’ maneuver against the unknown alien force, it was out of an emotional response to the death of your Squadmate?”
“Yes, I believe it was.”
The prosecutor manipulated his hand-held information tablet, and then in a few moments two huge holograms appeared in the middle of the courtroom for all to see. They were brain scans: one was Knight’s, the other had my name underneath it.
“Admiral Bradson, please examine Exhibit 153-Alpha. As you know, Admiral, all neural link augmented pilots are closely monitored during every flight operation. This particular hologram is a display of the data taken from the brain scans of Lieutenants’ Derringer and Roberts at the exact time that Lieutenant Beazly Elfin was shot down, and then the exhibit also includes brain data from within the timeframe that the ‘Arc’ maneuver was initiated by Lieutenant Derringer. It is the belief of Unity Fleet that this data provides concrete, incontrovertible proof that Lieutenant Derringer was in fact emotionally compromised during the course of the scenario, and that he should be prosecuted to the full extent of military law.”
Admiral Bradson nodded. “Alright. Let’s see it, then.”
“Lieutenant Derringer.”
I was finally on the witness stand. My mental state (after Knight gave his testimony and the Unity prosecution team presented their damning physical evidence via brain scans) was like I was back on Askari Nectar… but when I took the stand, I was ready to testify. I sat on display before my chain of command, as stoic as I could be... but in truth, I was also getting very scared. My brain activity at the time of Golden Boy’s death was actually almost identical to Knight’s… but that was the end of our similarity; as the engagement continued, my scans went off the charts, quickly, until the time that we completed the Arc maneuver and had reached the upper atmosphere of Isolation 11. The good news was that by Lieutenant Bergstrom’s estimate, I would likely be acquitted of any charge relating to Golden’s death—even despite the rumored involvement of Admiral Elfin. The focus of my court martial was now on whether or not emotion had led me to make unacceptable leadership decisions after we had been engaged by enemy forces. During the recess before my testimony, Lieutenant Bergstrom very seriously advised me to testify that I had made a lapse in judgement during the course of the incident—that I had been in emotional control, but ultimately had been tactically inept. I refused. The punishment for a guilty verdict would mean the end of my career. That was unacceptable to me. I wanted to be vindicated. I wanted to be told I was right. I wanted to be thanked for leading my men to safety.
From my raised seat I looked down at the worm who was the Unity prosecutor, ready to defend myself and finally straighten out this inexplicable nightmare… then, I saw Celeste in the audience.
Blood rushed to my face, I forgot to breathe.
I hated that she saw me like this, more than I hated Knight or the prosecutor or anything else in the fucking universe. Then… slowly, secretly, almost imperceptibly… the first two fingers of her right hand rose from her lap… slipped up past her chest… then they glided along the smooth, amber, perfect skin of her cheek… and finally they tapped her temple once. Our sign. She had testified on the first day of my court martial, and had stated under oath that she believed I had made my decision to engage out of concern for the lives of my men, and that even if Unity ultimately concluded that my decision was reprehensible by law, she gave a comprehensive character statement about me in which she had nothing but good things to say—about my leadership, my piloting skills, my conduct as an officer. That opinion—especially coming from the very officer who issued the order to retreat—was the biggest reason Lieutenant Bergstrom thought I would be cleared of the insubordination charge. Celeste had done what she could for me, but now a
t the end of cross examinations, I was on my own.
‘You’re not alone,” she promised me through her amber eyes.
Even as the government’s prosecutor finished his current question I lifted my binded hands to my face and returned the gesture, as I always did.
The bailiff immediately pointed his rifle directly at my face from 20 paces. The audience gasped. “Stand down, Lieutenant!”
I had pretended to itch my head in the very same motion as the my sign to Celeste; I innocently opened up my palms in submission, and slowly lowered them. I was truly amazed at how afraid of me nearly everyone was now. They thought I could control any computer system at will.
“Ah-hem,” the prosecutor was still waiting for an answer from me.
“I’m sorry, sir. Can you repeat your question?”
“Lieutenant Derringer, do you know what the exact cost of identifying, augmenting, training and deploying a neural link enabled pilot is?”
“Yes, sir. Roughly twenty-billion units.” It was nearly the same price to build a TItan Class Carrier as it was to build someone like me. It took the prosecutor for a spin when I answered correctly.
“I—yes, that’s correct. So since you are so well-informed, then you must understand that neural link enabled pilots are held to the highest possible standard.
“Yes sir. I understand.”
“Then how do you explain your decision to execute the ‘Arc’ maneuver—a technique which is said to have a success rate so infinitesimal that it was regarded by many to be an insane theory at best, and a crack-pot suicide wish at worst.”
I looked him dead in the eyes. He was nothing to me. We were so far separated in mental and personal ability that I was insulted to be prosecuted by this man. When I answered him, though, it was with all due respect to his rank. “Sir,” I began, my voice perfectly measured, “My squadron was ambushed by a small alien contingency of unknown origin. I immediately ascertained that their firepower was greater than our own, and that any attempt at a direct retreat would be immediately defeated by the enemy. At the outset of the engagement, I lost a key asset in Lieutenant Elfin and his Phantom. I had to act quickly and decisively. I reasoned that our Phantoms likely outmatched any possible enemy in both speed and maneuverability and I knew the abilities of my two remaining squadmates. I wasn’t thinking about them in terms of units—I was thinking about them as my men, whose lives I am responsible for. In the time it took us to maneuver through the lower city levels—while under withering enemy fire—I mentally simulated almost five-hundred-thousand scenarios. Based on what little information our systems had acquired on the enemy over the few seconds of our encounter, I had reached a no-win conclusion. None of the five-hundred-thousand scenarios would result in our survival.”
The audience broke into titillated murming, shocked to hear that I was able to deduce such information on the fly. I continued:
“I resolved to keep my composure, knowing full well that we were in a lot of trouble. I wasn’t going to tell my men that there was nothing we could do, because there was: the ‘Arc’ maneuver. We had done it once before on Cantus 9, so I knew that it was possible. From a strategic standpoint, the enemy was poised to run us down. They possessed fire superiority, they were ideally positioned, and they were likely capable of warp function. I believed this because the enemy squadron appeared instantaneously on our scanners, which all of us were connected to via neural link. We would have certainly sensed them approaching if they had done so by any other known means. With the information available to me, I made the tactical decision to initiate contact with the enemy. It was our only logical option. The ‘Arc’ is not included in any system simulation, because like you stated, sir, it is considered to be impossible.”
The prosecutor looked me over in a new light. I was clearly more intelligent than he was and he knew it… but, he was clever. “I see. That is impressive, Lieutenant—mentally simulating almost 500,000 possibilities while simultaneously piloting your Phantom and commanding your men… but tell me: where is the physical evidence that these ‘simulations’ actually occurred? We’ve all reviewed your brain scans, and I’ve heard nothing in the flight recordings where you mention any such calculations to your men.”
“That, sir, is because there isn’t time to explain every decision I make to my men when we are on-mission. Surely you understand that?”
“Oh I understand, Lieutenant Derringer—please don’t question my abilities as an officer again. The truth is, I don’t believe that any such calculation took place. Your brain scans reveal enormous activity in your amygdala—indicating that your mind was in a reverted, compromised, emotional state, and not that you were utilizing logical reasoning. Or, perhaps you did simulate these 500,000 scenarios? Did you ever consider perhaps your simulations were vastly inaccurate due to your compromised state? Perhaps there was an alternate, more diplomatic option other than playing chicken with five alien cruisers and dropping an unauthorized payload but you didn’t want to see it? That is what the evidence indicates. That is what happened, isn’t it, Derringer?!”
I clenched my jaw hard enough to hold my tongue. “No, sir.”
“No? This court martial has uncovered a trail of misconduct perpetrated by you, Lieutenant… in fact, you’ve gone to great lengths to hide your past, haven’t you? I’m not just speaking of your Cantus 9 joy ride, either... you were considered for the ‘World-Genius’ program at a young age, weren’t you?”
When the prosecutor uttered ‘World-Genius’, I finally understood where he was going. I simulated the final critical moments of my questioning thousands of times over before he had finished his sentence. It was a no-win scenario. “Lieutenant?!”
“Yes,” I admitted. “Yes I was considered, sir.”
“Strongly considered, from what I am told?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“You don’t know, Derringer? Come now. You’ve just testified to this court that you are capable of accurately running complex combat simulations somewhere in your brain, yet you ‘don’t know’ if reaching the final stages of selection for World-Genius program is indicative of having been strongly considered?”
It was. I had been. This little shit wasn’t going to get that out of me, though. “I honestly have no idea what they look for. If a candidate is disqualified along with the other billions that are during the first stages of screening, or if they are disqualified the day before acceptance—what does it matter? They are unfit. It’s the same in SpaceWing.”
The prosecutor was on, and he rolled right over my nothing response. I knew he would, and I knew what was coming. “You and I both know that being removed from the final stages of World-Genius selection is even more rare than being accepted into the program itself. Lieutenant, why do you believe you were disqualified?”
“Objection, Admiral!” Bergstrom called out, “the prosecution is introducing prior events!”
“Overruled,” Admiral Bradson shot her down again immediately. “I want to hear the lieutenant’s answer.”
Everyone in the audience did. To be in the same room with a World-Genius finalist was almost like walking on the sun. If they didn’t already think of me as some kind of cyborg-mutant freak, they assuredly thought so now… the prosecutor was exceptional in his research about my past. I thought that part of me was gone, like the part of me that once flew like a madman across the dream-sky of Cantus 9. I had no idea how he knew, but I knew that it would be my final undoing. Even so, I admitted nothing. “I don’t know why, sir. They never told me.”
“Perhaps not. But surely you must have some opinion as to the why of it?”
“No, sir, I do not. I left it in the past.”
The prosecutor raised his brows as part of his act. “Just like you left your mother in the past, Lieutenant?”
He expected me to fold just then… but he didn’t know me. He knew absolutely nothing. “Yes.” I stated flatly. “Exactly like I left her.”
The audience broke into nois
y, unfettered dialogue.
“ORDER!” Admiral Bradson commanded. “We will maintain discipline here!”
His subordinates begrudgingly obeyed. The Unity prosecutor was already manipulating his information tablet again amidst the commotion. This time, a hologram of a woman appeared. She was screaming, her expression contorted and deranged. It was my mother.
“Admiral, sir, please examine Exhibit 157-Alpha: a holo-recording of the defendant’s mother shortly before she was committed to be Reprogrammed...”
“MY SON WILL EXPOSE YOU ALL!”
My mother shrieked in her hysteria, her unkempt, sweat ridden brown locks matted to her face wildly.
“HE IS THE SPIRIT OF DAWN!”
Marines pulled at her in the holo-recording, trying to restrain her, but she resisted with all her might.
“HE IS VOLTEC!”
The audience couldn’t believe it. She was clearly insane. Through the blue-ish light of the hologram display, I locked eyes with Celeste once more. She was in tears. She had known.
“MY SON IS THE ALPHA WING! HE WILL EXPOSE YOU! ALPHA WING WILL EXPOSE YOU ALL! ALPHA WING! ALPHA WING! ALPHA WING!!!”
“How did he know?”
“That’s his job, Max. I’m so sorry.”
Celeste reached out and touched my hand. I was still in chains.
Alpha Wing Page 6
