At least, if she could actually reach the courthouse.
Thousands of people crowded the streets, blocking her way. Camera crews were filming. Drones and helicopters buzzed above, cameras rolling. Reporters shoved their way toward Lizzy, thrusting microphones.
"Is it true you trained Lieutenant Hagen?"
"Did you actually use an electric whip?"
"Did you participate in the massacre, Sergeant Pascal?"
"How do you feel about your soldier murdering babies, Sergeant?"
"How many civilians did you personally murder, Sergeant?"
Lizzy ignored the questions. Her lawyer, who walked at her side, tried to hush the reporters, to wave them aside.
A crowd had gathered from miles around. Some were reporters, but most had just come to shout. To curse. To spit on her.
"Traitor!"
"Alien-lover!"
"Whose side are you on?"
"Free Clay Hagen! Free Clay Hagen!"
"Death to traitors!"
Somebody threw a coffee cup at Lizzy. The hot liquid sizzled over her legs. Somebody else tossed rotten fruit. A man ran alongside, raising photos of dead women and children. The slaughtered civilians of Santa Rosa. Somebody else carried a placard full of jangling medals.
Some love our troops, and others think them monsters, Lizzy thought. And both sides hate me.
"Our boys are war heroes!" a protester shouted. "How dare you testify against them? Traitor!"
"It's Clay Hagen who betrayed us!" Lizzy said. "He betrayed our honor! It's my duty to preserve the purity of the Human Defense Force."
"You're an alien-loving traitor!"
"I'm a soldier!" Lizzy shouted, tears in her eyes. "And I watched other soldiers disgrace the uniform. I will not be quiet! I will not—"
Her lawyer put a hand on her shoulder. "It's all right, Lizzy. The truth will come out in court."
Kaelyn, who had come to support Lizzy, clasped her hand. "I'm here for you."
Yet as the people kept shouting, Lizzy's eyes burned with tears. Their faces danced around her. Snarling. Eyes blazing with hatred.
Traitor!
Traitor!
Alien-lover!
One even raised a placard featuring Lizzy wearing the Red Cardinal's vestments, complete with an inverse cross.
The world was spinning. And in the screaming, twisted faces, Lizzy saw the enemy. She saw the Kalayaan in the jungles. Shooting at her. Picking off her men one by one. She saw the face of Ernesto, her torturer.
She closed her eyes. She covered her ears. She clutched Kaelyn's hand, letting her friend guide her onward, because Lizzy was back in the jungle, and she could not face such hatred again.
And then the voices faded.
Doors slammed shut.
Lizzy opened her eyes. She was inside the courthouse. The protesters, the chanting, the hatred—it was all just a muffled murmur behind thick doors. It could no more hurt her than the echoes of war.
As she walked through the courtroom, still weak from her injuries, she saw familiar faces. Soldiers she had trained. Soldiers from Lizzy's Lions, her platoon. The platoon she had been so proud of. The platoon she had built and led with Carter.
They were staring at her. Soldiers in dress uniforms. Boys she had molded into men. Into killers. Here were the faces of murderers. The butchers of Santa Rosa.
They all stared in silence from the benches. Lizzy sought the ringleader. Where was Clay Hagen, promoted to lieutenant after Carter's death? The monster who had commandeered her platoon? She did not see him.
Lizzy shuddered to remember Clay. From the first day at boot camp, she had known Clay Hagen was trouble. The brute, already a convicted murderer when joining the army, had challenged her. Mocked her. Fought her. She had broken his arm, and she had hoped to break whatever monster lurked inside him. To save him. To turn him from juvenile delinquent into a proper soldier.
But instead, I unleashed a rabid beast onto Bahay, Lizzy thought. And he raped, murdered, and mutilated.
She took the stand. She stood there, still wobbly, her body still weak. But she managed to stay upright, to put her hand on a bible. Everyone was watching. Cameras were rolling. Lizzy faced the crowd, standing tall in her military uniform. But she did not wear her medals. And to her this uniform signified disgrace. She had worn it today because she would not hide from her past. From what she had done. From the evil she had served.
Her life had been a lie. This courthouse was about truth.
"Sergeant Lizzy Pascal, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"
"I do."
She stood facing the courtroom. Facing the cameras. When she spoke, she spoke not only to the people here. But to all Earth—and indeed to the entire Human Commonwealth of colonies across the Orion Arm of the galaxy.
"I want to speak to you about Clay Hagen, a soldier I commanded.
"When he raped, murdered, or mutilated five hundred women and children, I was no longer his commander. I was no longer on Bahay. I was in a hospital bed, recovering from the wounds of war.
"But I knew him for a long time before that. And the man I knew was a monster.
"I knew that when he first came into my platoon. They told me Clay Hagen had been in prison for killing a man. That he was cruel. Criminal. That they almost didn't draft him. That it would be a privilege, and my greatest challenge, to mold him into an honorable man. Naive as I was, I accepted. I decided to save him from himself.
"But every day, I saw more depths to his evil. I saw that evil in basic training, when he shot another soldier with rubber bullets at point blank range, almost killing him. I saw that evil on Bahay, when he carved the ears off dead enemies and wore them around his neck. I saw the madness in his eyes.
"I should have said something. I should have spoken out. I was naive and still thought he could be controlled.
"I was hurt on Bahay. I lost my hand. My soul. I was captured and tortured, and I went back to fight again, because I was still naive. I still thought we were liberating Bahay from the Red Cardinal, freeing a people desperate for our help.
"But we are far worse than the Red Cardinal could ever be. And Clay Hagen proved that. In Santa Rosa, where he butchered so many innocents, he cast a stain upon all Earth.
"When you judge him today, know who are you judging. Know that he cannot be saved, cannot be redeemed. Clay Hagen must be locked up forever. Or he will kill again."
She finished her speech. The cameras flashed. In the crowd, Kaelyn looked at her and gave a reassuring nod and sad smile.
Somebody stood up in the crowd. A middle aged man, beefy and balding, perhaps the father of one of the soldiers on trial. The man pointed at Lizzy.
"You're a goddamn traitor. How dare you testify against our boys? They're war heroes!"
The judge pounded his gavel. "Sit down, Mister Hagen!"
Clay's father, Lizzy realized.
"You're a traitor, Sergeant!" the senior Hagen continued, pointing at her, death in his eyes. "You'll burn in hell."
A few other fathers and mothers in the crowd nodded. They patted the senior Hagen on the back.
Lizzy knew that many on Earth shared the sentiment. She had seen the protests. She had been pelted with filth. Threatened. Maligned. They picketed outside her apartment day and night.
She had turned against her fellow soldiers. She was defending Bahay. To her, this meant preserving her honor and fighting for Earth's honor. But in Earth's eye, she was a traitor.
Well, a traitor or a war criminal, depending on who you ask, she thought wryly. To some anti-war activists, just wearing this uniform made her a monster.
She looked at Kaelyn. The young woman looked back and gave another reassuring nod.
But some on Earth support me.
Kaelyn's mismatched eyes comforted the storm in Lizzy's soul.
A man stood up and cleared his throat. He was a tall, dapper lawyer in a tailored suit. His black hair was slicked back, and
he sported a thin mustache.
"That was a lovely story, Sergeant Pascal." He sauntered toward her, one eyebrow raised. "You don't mind if I ask you a few questions, do you? To get to the truth of the matter."
Lizzy stared at him. "I told the truth. As I vowed."
The lawyer nodded. "You told part of the truth. But did you not vow—on the holy bible—to tell the whole truth?"
"I did."
"So tell us, Sergeant Pascal. Is it not true that, when training young Clay, you would beat him with an electric whip?"
Lizzy stiffened. Across the courthouse, people muttered.
"Yes, I used a standard military-issue training crop, like many drill sergeants. It inflicts mild bolts of electricity to correct errant behavior. The pain is not severe, and it causes no long term physical harm."
"Is that so?" said the lawyer. "It just so happens I have such a standard military-issue training crop, as you call it. I think it's more aptly described as a torture instrument!"
The lawyer opened his briefcase. A whip curled up inside like a sleeping serpent. With all the drama of a snake charmer, the lawyer lifted the whip. He tapped a button on the handle. The lash crackled with electricity, shooting sparks. The lawyer cracked the whip, and sparks flew toward the ceiling. People gasped and leaned back. The smell of ozone filled the air.
"She tortured those boys!" somebody cried out.
"I trained them, and I disciplined them," Lizzy said, leaning across the witness stand. "I did not torture them! You don't know what torture is. I do."
Her head spun. She had to sit down.
Yes, she knew all about torture. Ernesto had tortured her thoroughly. With a clothing iron. With his ax. All those memories were rushing back now.
The lawyer put down the whip and strutted before the witness stand. "And is it not true, Sergeant Pascal, that during basic training, you broke Clay Hagen's arm?"
Lizzy leaped back to her feet. "He challenged me to a fight!"
"And you accepted? You—an experienced sergeant, a military professional? You agreed to fight a green recruit whose only sin was a little eagerness, a little fighting spirit? And when you did fight him—did you have to brutalize him?"
Lizzy looked at the lawyer, then at the crowd.
"I was wrong. I'm not the same person. I believed that I had to break recruits, then remold them into soldiers. I wanted to toughen them up. I wanted us to win this war. To be like the heroes who came before us—like the famous Einav Ben-Ari, Marco Emery, Addy Linden, and the other heroes of the Alien Wars. But I was wrong. Because their wars were just, and this war is cruel. And I was cruel to fight it."
The lawyer nodded. "And your actions led to the death of five hundred civilians."
"I hold no responsibility for that!" Lizzy said. "And I'm not the one on trial today."
"But my client, Clay Hagen, is on trial," the lawyer said. "Accused of being a killer. A rapist. A monster." He pointed at Lizzy. "I propose that you turned him into a monster! That you brainwashed him! Drove him to kill! He was an innocent pawn, and you controlled him!"
"That's a lie!" Lizzy shouted.
"The evidence shows otherwise," the lawyer said. "But don't ask me. Let us speak to the man himself. To a young, innocent boy who was manipulated, brutalized, and brainwashed by an older woman. A young war hero who now bears horrifying scars upon his body and soul. Let us speak to Clay."
The courthouse doors opened.
Everyone turned to stare. A few people gasped. Others wept. A few crossed themselves, and one man even fainted.
Lizzy looked, and she felt the blood drain from her face.
* * * * *
Lieutenant Clay Hagen entered the courtroom, wearing a dress uniform, medals pinned to his chest.
Lizzy didn't recognize him. He was burnt beyond recognition.
Scars covered him. His hair was gone. His ears were gone. One of his eyes drooped, possibly blind. His features had melted into the ruin of his face. His entire head looked like melted wax. Lizzy had seen many wounds in the war. She herself was an amputee. But those injured by fire, she thought, suffered the most.
And as she looked at him, Lizzy did not feel hatred. All the rage faded.
She felt pity.
Clay walked slowly toward the witness stand. Lizzy vacated it for him. As they passed each other, they made eye contact. Lizzy stared into those eyes—one drooping, almost vanishing into the scars, the other still blue and filled with strange fire. And it finally clicked. Yes, there he was. That was Clay. She saw his soul inside the ravaged shell.
He gave her the thinnest of smiles. As much as he could with his ruined mouth.
Then he took the witness stand, and Lizzy sat beside Kaelyn at the back of the courtroom.
A shudder passed through Lizzy. She felt like ants were crawling over her.
He's still in there. He's still evil. He's still the man who raped, murdered, and mutilated hundreds. He's pitiful now, and yes, I pity him. But that doesn't change who he is.
As the cameras rolled, Clay pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. His hands too were badly scarred. Several fingers had burned down to stubs. He struggled for a moment to unfold the paper. The he began to read out loud.
"My name is Lieutenant Clay Hagen. And I am not a good man.
"I've done horrible things. When I was fifteen, I was robbing gas stations and convenience stores. When I was sixteen, I hit a man with my car, killing him. And when I fought on Bahay, I killed many people.
"I could make excuses. I could talk about how my father beat me when I was a child. How my mother abused me for years. I could talk about how Lizzy Pascal tortured me. But none of that can excuse my actions. Yes, I killed people. I killed women and children. I confess it.
"But I was a pawn. I was a shattered soul. I came out of prison straight into boot camp, where my drill sergeant broke me. Where she turned me into a machine that knew only one thing.
"To kill.
"And that is what I did. I killed hundreds of people. Maybe thousands. I became an angel of death.
"But I always did it for my beloved homeworld. For Earth. To defend my planet. To do the horrible things that needed to be done. That others dared not do. I stained my soul to protect my world.
"And I paid the price.
"I was burned. The fire of war gripped me. Consumed me. Left me the scarred, deformed wretch you see today.
"But I gladly accept the pain. The endless surgeries. The hideous scars. I wear them proudly, like a crown of thorns, because I wear them for my world. Because I earned them through battle and sacrifice.
"I emerged from the fire reborn. The flames seared away all the hatred that burned inside me. Both fires have been put out.
"In the hospital, in agony, I discovered my lord. I found salvation. Like Christ, I seek purity, an end to hatred. I seek forgiveness.
"I hope you can forgive me, people of Earth. I beg forgiveness from Earth, from Bahay, and from God.
"Whatever sins I've committed—I committed them for you. I tarnished my soul, and I suffered the ruin of my body, so that I could take these sins upon me. So that I could do the unspeakable. I gladly suffer so that you may be free and pure.
"You don't have to love me, Earth. You don't have to call me a good man. But I ask you one thing. To please love all the other soldiers. Those who still fight and those who have fallen. They are the true heroes of this war. They sacrificed themselves for our beautiful blue world. For this beautiful planet, and for the beautiful Earthlings who live here, I would gladly burn a thousand more times."
He folded the paper. He looked over the crowd at Lizzy.
She thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile in his eyes.
A smug smile. One only for her.
* * * * *
Other soldiers spoke.
Soldiers who had raped women. Who had shot them in the back. Who had carved off their ears, scalped them, cut out their tongues. Soldiers Lizzy had trained, fought with. Soldi
ers she knew. They spoke of the horrors they had committed. They spoke of the nightmares, of their wounded bodies and souls. And they begged forgiveness.
Finally the judge announced his verdict.
The enlisted men were exonerated of all charges.
Lieutenant Clay Hagen was sentenced to ten weeks of house arrest. He would keep his medals, commission, and pension.
Lizzy left the courtroom with tight lips, with dry eyes, and with new rage in her heart.
The crowds chanted around her.
"Traitor!"
"Alien-lover!"
"You betrayed our world!"
They spat on her. They tossed garbage at her. But Lizzy walked tall, holding Kaelyn's hand for support.
The two women returned to the apartment they shared. They sat in silence at the kitchen table, holding cups of tea, not drinking. Outside the crowds chanted their hatred.
"Traitors! Traitors! Traitors!"
The crowds rarely left these days. Lizzy turned on the television to drown out the noise. A telenovela was playing in Spanish. Good white noise.
Lizzy looked at her friend. Kaelyn looked back with her sad mismatched eyes.
Kaelyn—disowned by her father, left to fend for herself in the world.
Lizzy—cast out of her platoon, wounded, abandoned.
They reached across the tabletop and held hands.
"We lost today," Lizzy said. "But we're not done fighting."
"Lizzy." Kaelyn spoke softly, face pale. "A letter came for me today. My draft notice. In six months, I'm going to be drafted into the army. And very likely sent to Bahay."
Lizzy stared at her friend, and her insides shattered.
"We will end the war before then! I promise you, Kaelyn. I promise."
The television beeped. The telenovela was over. A severe-looking broadcaster appeared on screen, wearing a blue suit. He read the afternoon news in a somber tone.
"Good evening, Earth. President Hale today vowed to intensify his bombing campaign against North Bahay, determined to wipe out the Red Cardinal's forces. Despite some troubling leaks about supposed war crimes from Earth forces, the president's approval ratings have been soaring. Earth's victory in the Battle of Basilica has no doubt boosted those ratings, as has news of devastating Bahayan losses. Polls predict President Hale winning the upcoming election by a landslide. A further boon came to the president today in the Santa Rosa trial, where the Lions platoon was exonerated of all charges. Questions have arisen during the trial, however, about the conduct of the platoon sergeant, Lizzy Pascal, who—"
Earthling's War (Soldiers of Earthrise Book 3) Page 13
