by Eric Flint
"Sorry I'm a bit late, sir." Tesco had arrived.
The judge looked sternly at him. "Not, I suspect, as sorry as you're going to be. Your conduct in this case has not been exemplary, Captain. You've done the JAG's reputation no kind of good with it. There are some very hard questions that are going to be asked at the inquiry that will follow. Now . . ."
* * *
Eventually, after some thirty-two minutes, Mike began to smell a rat. And it wasn't one of the ones guarding Virginia Shaw, either. Tesco was doing what he knew how to do best: arguing technical points, when he didn't have a toe to stand on, let alone a leg. And he was doing it at length, despite the fact that he was raising the judge's blood pressure. Something was wrong with this situation.
He cleared his throat. "Your Honor," he tapped his watch. "I don't want to interrupt but—"
Someone was pounding on the door. They didn't wait for it to be answered. The court sergeant at arms nearly fell into the room. "Your honor . . . The prisoner . . . he's gone," he gasped.
"What?!" exclaimed the judge. "But he was under guard. Manacled."
"The awaiting-trial room . . . Someone shot the guards. Close up, with silenced weapons. They botched the one. The sergeant is still alive."
The judge stood up and handed the phone to Capra. "Contact the MPs immediately. My orders. I want roadblocks. I want whatever force they can muster. I'm going to see the wounded man and then I'll want that line to talk to the Judge Advocate General."
"Sir," said Capra, dialing, grateful he knew the number.
"You'll accompany me, Tesco," snapped the judge, striding out, and leaving the TC to scurry after.
* * *
The judge was back, grim-faced, a few minutes later. "A good thing that one of those rats is a medic." He shook his head. "I get the feeling that humanity has underestimated, and grossly undervalued, what we've created there. Sorry. This is a bad business, Capra."
"Yes, sir. I just don't understand why he had to escape. He was basically off the hook. I was convinced that he was innocent."
"He hasn't escaped and I am also convinced he was innocent." The judge sat down heavily. "He's been kidnapped, Capra."
"By whom, sir?"
"By people claiming to be members of the Special Branch. There's a writ of habeas corpus that we found in the cell, which was dropped in the struggle. It was signed by the Special Branch Chief Director and High Court Judge Jurgen, who is known to have ties with Talbot Cartup. And a syringe. I think we can be fairly sure that Connolly didn't go voluntarily."
"What! But I told the MPs . . ."
"I'll correct the information. You'd better get out while I talk to the Judge Advocate General. We're neck-deep in filthy water. Politics. See if you can hold that young woman for five minutes, while I organize an MP escort to Special Branch headquarters. They're not going to get away with this."
So Mike went back to the courtroom. Something was niggling at him, besides the fear that he'd have to face Virginia and her chainsaw. On the way there he put his finger on it.
Tesco. The opportune call of nature and the delaying behavior in the judge's rooms. He'd bet the weasel had indeed been making a call and that it wasn't to nature, unless Talbot Cartup had changed his name.
He found Van Klomp doing a better job of calming Virginia than he could have done. Van Klomp was doing it by mobile telephone. The airborne were being told to be in their helicopters, with their bangsticks, within fifteen minutes. Van Klomp was giving very precise orders about Special Branch headquarters. When he got off the 'phone, Mike said: "You'd better talk to Judge McCairn, Bobby. He's heading the same way with a bunch of MPs."
"Bugger his Moeras Paddas. That boykie is one of ours, and they don't do this to us." Van Klomp was as angry as Mike had ever seen him.
"Calm down and listen to me. McCairn won't take this either, and neither will General Needford. Believe me. But they could use backup. You go in first and you'll be the next one I defend against a court-martial. Now. Give me two minutes and I'll see if we can make it legal." He walked back to the judge's chambers, and with a cautious knock entered.
Judge McCairn was bellowing on the telephone. "What do you mean you've got no manpower and it'll take you half an hour? You'll meet us at the Special Branch headquarters in twenty minutes."
He slammed the phone down. "Idiots! I asked them for sufficient men to take that building by force if need be. And that fool major tells me he's got barely twenty men immediately available. The earlier call of yours disrupted things, I'm afraid. I need manpower!"
"Ahem. Sir, how would Lieutenant Colonel Van Klomp's paratroopers do, sir? They can chopper in there inside twenty minutes."
Judge McCairn smiled savagely. "Yes. That'll do nicely. Tell him to organize. I'll get onto General Needford and tell him what I've instructed. And you'd better come along. I may need a defense attorney myself. They don't do this in my court!"
Capra left at a run. He found Van Klomp pushing his way like an icebreaker through the reporters, with Virginia in his wake. "Wait for the judge. You've got cover!" he yelled.
Judge McCairn wasn't far behind. All of them crammed into the jeep: Ginny—white-faced and clutching her chainsaw—rats, bats, Fluff, three large paratroopers, Judge McCairn and Mike Capra.
A pack of reporters followed.
"General Needford will be there, in person," said the judge grimly to Van Klomp. "We want our prisoner back, Colonel. We want those who attacked and murdered our court staff. You're hereby instructed to place them under arrest. You are authorized to use whatever force is necessary to do so."
They arrived at Special Branch headquarters, to find three of the paratroopers' choppers already circling. Van Klomp got out and began waving his arms at them. One set down on the roof. A truck with some fifteen MPs screeched up. The MPs looked warily upward, and clutched at their whitebanded hats. The down-blast from the choppers was ferocious. Almost as ferocious as the camouflage-painted men rappelling out.
"Back up!" bellowed the judge to the MP captain.
A staff-car drew up, and a tall, very black and impassive-faced general got out with a set of papers in his hand. "Search warrant," he said to the saluting judge and parachute lieutenant colonel and MP captain.
He didn't say it to Virginia Shaw, as she was already stalking her way up the stairs to the door of the Special Branch headquarters, gunning her chainsaw. The rats and bats were running cover around her. On her shoulder, Fluff beat his chest and brandished his brass knuckles. Fortunately, in sequence, not simultaneously.
"Sergeant Major!" bellowed Van Klomp. "Get in there before she does. Assist and accompany the MPs. Apprehend and take into custody anyone who offers resistance."
The camouflage-painted men stormed the doorway in a solid phalanx. Van Klomp chuckled. "I'd forgotten that we had that drill on today. I hope they frighten the shit out of the Specials. Do them good for a change. Come on, Your Honors." He pointed to the search warrant. "The job isn't finished until the paperwork is done."
They went through the door most Vats described as the one way road. You might go in there, but you never came out.
* * *
"Just what is the meaning of this?" the bulky and aggressive plain-suited man demanded. "Is this a coup d'etat or something?"
"Who are you, sir?" asked the MP captain.
"I'm Chief Director Asmal. Who the hell are you? And what are you doing here?"
The MP captain handed him the search warrant. The man looked at it, tore it in half and tossed it to the floor. "Get yourself and your men out of here this instant, Captain. You have no authority to be here! This is a civilian police unit."
John Needford had come in behind the MPs, without the man noticing him. "Pick up that document, Asmal," he said, in the kind of quiet, powerful voice that always gets listened to. "I am Judge Advocate General Needford. I signed that document. It is cosigned by Supreme Court Judge Stephens. It's a legal document. Are you presuming to argue the law with me
?"
Chief Director Asmal's bombast took a dent. "But the military can't do this. The police—"
"Your ignorance of the law—if that's what it is—is appalling for someone in a position of authority," said Needford icily. "In terms of Special gazette proclamation 734 of 16 June 029, while Harmony and Reason is at war, the Military Police may act in a civilian capacity if and when the need arises, and must act in any case where there is a conflict between civilian and military personnel. Now, we have come here to fetch one Lance Corporal Charles Connolly, who was illegally removed from military custody by your personnel. In addition, military personnel have been killed by your people in our military court. On the basis of reasonable evidence against personnel from this department, I requested a search warrant."
Judge McCairn stepped forward. "We have several witnesses, and we have a document—which would have no legal standing, but does have your signature on it—which was found at the scene of the crime."
Chief Director Asmal shrugged. "You've got nothing legitimate to complain of, that cannot be addressed through normal channels. We're authorized to take whatever steps we see necessary to preserve the security and integrity of this colony. I'm going to call Lieutenant General Cartup-Kreutzler now, and you lot will be out of here before I count to ten."
Suddenly, he leapt about two feet—into McCairn's arms, squealing in terror.
He had a slight excuse. A sudden loud chainsaw shriek at your back will do that to you.
The judge shoved him away, into the wall. Chief Director Asmal suddenly found himself facing a very angry young woman with a chainsaw. "You'll tell me, right now, where Chip is." She twitched the trigger. It chewed a piece of his expensive suit.
All the bombast evaporated. "He . . . he's not here. Talbot said he had to be taken straight to the ship."
"What ship?" she snapped.
"The Korozhet ship. They wanted him. We . . . we've got the extradition papers. It's duly authorized by Council."
Van Klomp pulled her back. Or Asmal would have been half the man he'd been.
Even the huge Van Klomp couldn't hold her for long, though, Ginny was so utterly furious. The mob of news reporters outside were thus treated to the spectacle—faithfully captured on many cameras and camcorders—of Special Branch's Chief Director racing out of his own headquarters with a young woman in hot pursuit with a chainsaw. Unfortunately, the chainsaw finally spluttered and ran out of fuel before she caught up with him, or the news ratings that night would have been even more spectacular than they were.
As it was, in Vat households, viewership was estimated at ninety-seven percent. Even out of fuel, and wielded by a slender woman, a chainsaw makes an amazingly effective bludgeon—and Chief Director Asmal may well have been the single most hated man on Harmony and Reason.
It was also noted by statisticians, a year or so later, that an astonishing number of girls were coming into the universe with the name of "Virginia." Odd really, since that had never been a popular name on the planet before. Certainly not among Vats.
Chapter 41
"That's it, then," Devi said softly. Her eyes moved to the door opening onto the balcony. Through the glass, she could see the city and the two great ships that loomed over the skyline. "It's over."
"I'd hardly say it's 'over,' Sanjay," came Liepsich's voice over the telephone.
Devi shook her head, even though the physicist couldn't see the gesture. "To be sure. But our part in it is over. We were never the solution, you know. Only the ones who could create a soluble problem. Which we did. Isolated the poison into an organ that could be surgically removed, if you will. The surgery itself will be done by others."
There was a barking laugh in the receiver. "Van Klomp bears a lot more resemblance to a battle axe than a scalpel."
"All the better."
"Don't forget that Talbot's still on the loose."
"I'll handle Talbot."
As much as she'd tried, she hadn't been able to keep the steely purpose out of her voice. She could hear Liepsich's sudden intake of breath on the other end.
"What difference does it make, Len?" she asked gently. "I feel quite well, I assure you."
"If you'd stayed back on Earth . . ."
"I wouldn't have been able to help create a new world. Three of them, in fact—don't forget my other children." The last clause was a command, not a reminder. "You can't live forever, anyway."
Silence, for a moment. Then, even more gently than she'd spoken: "I care for you deeply, Sanjay."
"I know. Give my love to John, would you? Add an insult if you can think of a suitable one. And now, good-bye. Killing swine requires a sharp blade."
She hung up the phone, slowly but firmly.
Chapter 42
An office at HARIT animal-holding facility.
In the hours that followed the raid on the Special Branch, Mike Capra learned just what command competency meant. It meant someone like Van Klomp. Van Klomp arranged to send a detachment of soldiers and police to Shaw House. The result of that was the capture of Dr. Thom and a large amount of incriminating evidence—not to mention jackhammer damage to some of the tiles of Shaw House. Van Klomp also got his factotum-and-woman-of-all-trades Meilin in to comfort Virginia.
And, by the looks of it, to plot with her. A snatch of conversation which Mike overheard and rather wished he hadn't mentioned the Vat Liberation Organization. The VLO was a banned group. It had been described some months back on television by Talbot Cartup, wearing his Security portfolio hat on behalf of the Shareholders Council, as a dangerous and subversive organization.
Van Klomp had also gotten Ginny Shaw to lean on her father's family connection with General Blutin, getting him to authorize a paratrooper guard for Virginia.
Then Van Klomp had organized a meeting of all those involved . . . or as he'd said, all those that he could get to admit to it.
* * *
Mike cleared his throat and began to address what he was privately calling the convocation of conspirators.
"Right. To bring you all up to speed: As far as we have been able to work out, the fat was never really in the fire until Virginia got loose. We've checked on his call record, and Tesco did phone Talbot Cartup to tell him that Virginia Shaw had showed up at the court and blown the case out of the water. He also told Cartup that she had repudiated the engagement and announced her intent to marry Connolly. Up to that point, we think, sending Connolly to the Korozhet was something Cartup had intended to do when convenient. By using Ginny's proxies the matter had been voted on some two days ago, but Cartup wanted to do it quietly, with minimum publicity. But at the point that Ginny acquired bodyguards he didn't control and was talking loudly to all and sundry as well as the media . . . well, the only coin around was Connolly."
Capra cleared his throat. "Connolly was supposed to have escaped from custody, murdering people in the process."
There was a little uproar in the room. "Yes, that's right," said Mike harshly. "The killing of the guards was planned and premeditated, not just something that happened because Special Branch screwed up the operation."
Van Klomp murmured something to one of his paratrooper sub-officers. Capra decided to ignore the part of it he overheard. If he wasn't mistaken, the colonel in command of HAR's elite paratrooper unit had just planned and premeditated the destruction of Special Branch. If true, that was in shocking violation of a multitude of laws, but . . .
Good riddance, thought Mike to himself, and plowed on.
"It all makes sense, if you look at it from Cartup's point of view. Virginia had just painted Connolly as a hero. Having him 'escape' and commit murder in the process would make a lot of the rest of her story less believable. They'd also have a valuable hostage to ensure your good behavior, Ms. Shaw. According to Asmal, who has been singing like a bird, Tesco was supposed to take you aside and tell you to shut up or get Connolly back in pieces. Unfortunately for them, the snatch didn't go according to plan. When Tesco saw that one of the MPs
was still alive and that the document that the Special Branch police had used to talk their way in had been found, he did a runner."
"There is a warrant out for his arrest," said the Judge Advocate General, grimly. "And for the arrest of Lieutenant Depardue. I take exception to this kind of corruption in our ranks. I'm going to stamp it out. I'm fairly sure that Major Tana Gainor was at the bottom of all this, but until they are arrested I can't proceed against her. But we'll find them."
"Only, like Talbot Cartup, they haven't yet been found," said Van Klomp.
"I don't really care much about these things," said Ginny curtly. "I just want to know what's being done to get Chip back."
Mike pulled a face. "We're pursuing all the channels, Ms. Shaw. The extradition to the K . . . Crotchets was definitely extra-legal. But the Crotchets are not being cooperative. They're sitting behind their force shield and not talking to us. As you know, there have been massive protests about this on the streets. Survey data shows that some fifty-seven percent of all Shareholders and ninety-three percent of all Vats disapprove of the Korozhet conduct. They're losing public trust."
"Which was something we weren't sure how to turn around," said Lynne Stark. "And Corporal Connolly wanted that side of his story told. I held it back."
"It is still worrying me to see opposition to them so 'in their face' just yet," said Liepsich, with a scowl. "Yes, we're a long way into the soft-cyber programming code. We've got the hang of their electronic self-destruct booby traps. And we've devised an effective way of switching the slowshields on and off at will. We think we've understood, finally, just how the force field is made. But we are no wiser when it comes to cracking it. So: we have a problem. Armed enemies sitting in the middle of our city. There are two potential enemy armies out there—the rats and the bats."
"Nay. Never!" said Fal righteously
"Well, hardly ever," amended Doll, scratching where no lady should in public.
* * *
Ginny had been listening to everything with increasing agitation. Now, she got up and started pacing around. "I've been talking to a lot of people. I've made some arrangements. I have pushed very hard for a Shareholder's meeting. I want to put it to the vote: Either the Crotchets give Chip back, or we declare war on them. Destroy their ship if need be, and take him by force. If I can't get the backing from the Council of Shareholders, I'll go it alone."
