by David Liss
• • •
I saw my father waiting in the hall, looking worried. His protruding brow was wrinkled.
“What were they looking for on that planet?”
“Software,” he said. “A Former military application that added an additional skill tree, one that would allow soldiers to develop some pretty incredible powers. Telekinesis, mind control, supernormal strength.”
“Wow,” I said. “Those would be cool.”
“Unless someone evil is using them against you and your world.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Then it becomes uncool.”
“Extremely uncool,” my green father said. “If they’ve found a way to unlock that skill tree, we may be in serious trouble.”
“And they found it?” I asked.
“I wasn’t sure, which is why I wanted to talk to Ms. Price. I’m pretty sure they have it, but I’m also pretty sure they didn’t know that someone managed to escape with the bio codes.”
“Who?” I asked.
He grinned. “Me. I was able to make a copy before they removed the main artifact containing the software off-world about two months ago. That’s one of the reasons you were able to take the prison so easily. The things they were most interested in protecting were off-world by the time you showed up.”
“And they never caught you with it?” I asked.
“There was nothing to catch. I uploaded it to my HUD.”
“You mean you can . . .” I trailed off.
“No, I haven’t activated it. We don’t know what it can do yet. But at least I can get it back to the Confederation and they’ll be able to analyze the data and match anything the Phands can throw at them.”
One more reason for the Confederation to be grateful to my father, I thought. At least, I hoped they would be grateful. I hadn’t liked what Ms. Price had been implying. “What about the rest of what she was saying? She told me the Confederation isn’t what I think it is?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “You were able to find me because there are some good beings like Dr. Roop out there, but they had to act in secret because there are some less good beings as well. The bottom line is I don’t know what to expect when we return.”
• • •
As we docked at the station, all I could think was what it would be like for a Confederation citizen to look out one of the viewscreens and see a Phandic cruiser towing another Phandic cruiser. The news outputs would be covering nothing else by now. Zeke Reynolds the war criminal would become Zeke Reynolds the hero, the guy who helped save the Confederation. There would be a ceremony, like at the end of Star Wars, and we would all get medals like Han and Luke—there would be no Chewbacca sitting on the sidelines.
The biggest story, I had no doubt, would be the capture of two Phandic ships, but there were other stories too. J’onn J’onzz of the selection committee was really the father of the supposed war criminal. The human chaperone was a Phandic spy. The crew of the Dependable was still alive, and its destruction in battle had been merely Phandic trickery.
We took a shuttle to the docking bay, where we walked out into the commons, a large open space sort of like an airport terminal. Honestly, I expected to hear cheering. Here we were, the beings who had managed to turn everything around for the Confederation.
When we stepped out into the common area, however, I knew at once that something was wrong. The space had been cleared of civilians. There were peace officers everywhere, with pistols out, pointed at us. Facing us were Chief Justice Junup and the rest of the Xeno-Affairs Judicial Council. Other government officials, some of whom I recognized from the compound, were gathered around. This was no hero’s welcome.
I felt Tamret take hold of my hand, and I pulled her toward me, as if someone were about to separate us. I was not about to let that happen.
“Captain Qwlessl, you and your crew are most welcome in your return.” Chief Justice Junup strode toward us, his stupid cape billowing behind him. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid everyone else involved in this reckless adventure is in serious trouble.”
A hush fell upon the space. There were perhaps twenty officers, and almost as many government officials facing us. By my side was my father, and next to him Captain Qwlessl. Behind us stood Steve and the other humans, then the refugees from the Dependable and the members of the selection committee. We all remained still, and no one said a word. I think, on our side, we were too stunned.
Finally Captain Qwlessl stepped forward. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Chief Justice,” she said. “These beings are heroes of the Confederation.”
“These children stole a ship,” Junup responded, “which, as I don’t see it, I presume is lost or destroyed. They created an intercultural incident, worsening an already volatile situation. We are going to have to return those cruisers and pay for the damages. And that being,” he said, pointing to my father, “is guilty of impersonating a Confederation citizen and corrupting the process by which worlds and delegates are selected.”
“This is a load of rubbish,” Steve said, striding forward. “You’re worrying about the little details, you shelled git. We’ve just risked our lives to bring you the answer to all your problems, and you want to send it back? Are you daft?”
I tapped Steve with my free hand, doing my best to wordlessly convey the idea that Captain Qwlessl might be a better person to state our case.
The captain spread her hands wide, trying to look reasonable. “The Ish-hi may be a bit excitable, but he’s essentially correct,” she told Junup.
“You’re bloody well right I’m correct,” Steve said. “I’ve never been more correct in my life.”
I glared at him, and he half shrugged.
“Chief Justice,” the captain continued, “please consider what has been accomplished here. We have two Phandic cruisers, one of which is entirely undamaged. This is the war prize we’ve always dreamed of. These children, as you call them, not only rescued me and my crew, but they obtained these ships, which will teach us everything we need to know about Phandic weaponry. I don’t understand why you are taking such a hard line here.”
“The law is the law,” the chief justice said.
My head pounded with outrage. After all we had done, after all we had risked to save the Confederation, this absurd goat-turtle was willing to throw away the chance to make everyone safe. I was starting to think that maybe my old principal had been right about me. Maybe I was a troublemaker. I’d certainly made a lot of trouble since leaving Earth. I wasn’t proud of all of it, but I was plenty proud of those two Phandic ships and what they represented. This was not the time to quietly accept the decision of someone in authority. This was the time to speak up and to act.
“Even if you wanted to arrest us for intergalactic jaywalking or whatever,” I said, “you can’t return those ships. You’d have to be insane.”
“And when a Phandic armada shows up at the station, demanding their ships back, how insane will I look then?”
“He’ll still be a bloody [goat-turtle],” Steve said under his breath, “so fairly insane, yeah?”
“Then you get your own ships to defend the station,” I said. “If eliminating the Phandic threat isn’t worth fighting for, I don’t know what is.”
“Perhaps you don’t care about how many lives are lost in battle,” Junup said, “but I will not allow a crisis to escalate when I know it will result in the deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands, of beings.”
“How many have already died?” Captain Qwlessl asked. “How many will die in the future? How many formerly free worlds are now under Phandic dominion? Those captured ships represent an end to the violence, not an escalation.”
“That is your own shortsightedness,” Junup said. “I choose to preserve life where I can.” He waved at the peace officers. “Take them to detention.”
Captain Qwlessl stepped out in front of us, as if to shield us from ar
rest. “Chief Justice!” she cried. “Do you really think the public will be happy with this treatment? Do you think the public wants you to surrender the greatest tactical advantage we’ve had in centuries?”
“I’ve already managed a stationwide closure of viewing screens and quarantined the dock zone,” Junup said. “This entire incident has been classified. No one knows about the Phandic ships, and they aren’t going to find out.”
I held up my data bracelet, feeling myself smile with grim triumph. “Except they do know. I’ve already sent details of our rescue mission to my data collector contact, and I’ve been recording this whole exchange. The fact that we secured those ships, and that you plan to send them back, is already public knowledge.”
Junup turned toward me. “How dare you?” he snapped, jabbing a hairy finger at me. “You insolent little child. Do you know what you’ve done?”
“Not let you get away with being a coward?” I proposed. “Not let you undo everything we just risked our lives to accomplish? If you want to return those ships, then you are a total weenie, and it’s my duty to stop you.”
He appeared puzzled. I supposed he must have gotten some brackets with the weenie comment.
“Sir,” Captain Qwlessl said, “I think the citizenry will have some very serious questions about why these beings are being treated as criminals, and why the judicial council would give up a chance to understand Phandic weaponry.”
At the far end of the chamber I saw a series of data collectors—led by Hluh, in a lemon-yellow jumpsuit—trying to force their way past a security blockade and into the terminal. Peace officers were keeping them back, but the data collectors were holding up recording devices, taking in as much as they could from a distance.
“We may be creating scandal at this point,” the clownish Darth Maul told the chief justice.
Junup nodded and spoke into his data bracelet. The peace officers parted, and Hluh, along with her data collector cronies, came into the room. Following them, Dr. Roop strode in and crossed the space to stand near us.
The chief justice’s goaty face was twisted with anger, but he managed to pull himself together and turn toward the data collectors. “Perhaps I was hasty in my initial outburst, but we must not act outside the law. Mr. J’onzz is under arrest. And these children are in violation of their agreements as well. They are all to be detained at once.”
I looked at the peace officers, and I looked at Tamret. She looked back at me, and I knew what she was thinking. I was thinking the same thing. They could not stop us if we ran.
Why shouldn’t we run? Everything I wanted and cared for and hoped for was being sucked into a vortex. In the blink of an eye, all we had accomplished had vanished. My father was going back to prison. The delegation was on the verge of being kicked out, the cure for my mother was gone, and they were going to separate me from Tamret. Going along with their wishes would get me nothing. If I were free, however, I would be able to fix things. I’d rescued my father once before; I could do it again. Maybe I could figure out how to get a cure for my mom. I could steal a ship and bring it to her. If I had to choose between being a prisoner or a space pirate, it was an easy decision.
Tamret and I were strong and fast and agile. If we made a break for it, they would never be able to stop us. We could hide on the station until we could get a ship, and then we would figure out where to go. It wouldn’t matter, because we would be together, and we could do anything.
The plan, if it could be called that, was completely insane, but I’d done crazier things already, and it beat letting them lock us up. No one, I decided, was going to put Tamret behind bars.
“Are you ready?” I asked her, my voice very low, but I knew with her Former enhancements she would be able to hear me.
“I’m ready,” she said.
When I glanced up at Tamret, I felt my entire body tense. My heart, which had been pounding with excitement, now fluttered with misery. Her face was covered with yellow dots—laser sights. I glanced up and saw peace officers leveling PPB rifles at us. If we moved, we would be shot.
It was all the hesitation they needed. I felt my arms jerked behind me and secured. Peace officers grabbed Tamret’s arms and roughly secured her. There was not going to be any escape.
• • •
We were all separated, and I was sent to some kind of holding cell within the terminal facility. It was the whitest room I’d ever seen: white walls, white floor, a white table with several white chairs. Nothing else. A peace officer brought me in, told me to wait, and released my wrist restraints before he locked the door behind him.
I tried contacting Tamret on my data bracelet, but I was barred from sending or receiving data. With nothing to do, I sat there and watched the minutes tick by. Finally, after more than three hours, the door opened and Junup entered the room, flanked by Captain Qwlessl and Dr. Roop.
Junup sat across from me, Captain Qwlessl and Dr. Roop to either side of me.
“Your friends,” the chief justice said, “insisted on being present when I speak to you.”
“Where’s Tamret?” I said. “Where are Steve and the others? Where’s my father?”
“I’ve just spoken with your father,” Dr. Roop assured me. “He’s fine.”
“No one has been harmed,” Junup said. “You will get a chance to see them before you leave.”
“Leave for where?” I demanded.
“Zeke, you’re going home,” Captain Qwlessl said softly. “It was the best we could do for you.”
“This situation has spiraled out of control,” Dr. Roop said. “Beings are worried about protecting their reputations. No one is looking at the larger picture. There are those who wanted to put you on trial.”
I had no doubt that some of those included the goat-turtle sitting across from me.
“What about the other delegations?” I asked. “Steve and Tamret?”
“Like your delegation,” Junup said, “they are to return to their home worlds at once, and their species may not be considered for membership for a period not less than sixty standard years.”
“No!” I stood up. Dr. Roop tried to get me to sit, but I shook him off. “You can’t send Tamret back. She’ll be treated like a criminal. The rest of the delegation hates her, and they’ll make sure she gets blamed. You must have”—I waved my hand as I tried to think of the term—“political asylum here, right?”
“We are under no obligation to grant asylum to nonaligned species,” Junup said. He remained seated, his hairy hands folded, completely undisturbed by my seething rage. “Such decisions fall to me as head of my committee, and I will not accept an application from an unrepentant criminal. I’m afraid your Rarel friend set out on this path when she chose to violate our laws. Now she must pay the price.”
“I want to see her,” I said. “Now.”
“Zeke,” Dr. Roop cautioned.
“You are in no position to make demands,” Junup said. “In a few minutes a technician will neutralize your nanites, and your skills will be returned to their baseline settings at the time of your arrival.”
“I thought you didn’t alter the skill system,” I said. “I thought that was against your principles.”
“You put yourself outside that code when you became a criminal,” Junup said. “Soon your translator will cease to function, so I need to explain our decisions now. You and your friends are through here. I’ve already arranged for your possessions to be packed and brought to your transports. You and the other initiates shall be cast from this station, and your father will go to prison, where he belongs.”
“Send him back with us!” I demanded.
“He is to be regarded as a war criminal, and exile is no longer an option.”
I slowly returned to my seat, but I leveled my gaze at the chief justice. The cure of my mother, which I had considered as good as in my hands, had now vanish
ed. I thought I had saved her, but by saving my father, I’d condemned my mother to death.
I considered more extreme options. I could, I knew, knock Junup down before the peace officers by the door could stop me, but that would get me nothing. “Before you touch me, I want to see my father, I want to see Steve, and I want to see Tamret.” My voice was slow and, I hoped, a little dangerous.
Junup rewarded my efforts by looking a little uneasy, but in the end that counted for little. “No,” he said.
Captain Qwlessl jabbed her trunk at him. “You are being cruel and vindictive,” she said. “Let him speak to his father and his friends.”
“I don’t have to,” Junup said, “and I don’t want to, so I won’t. This being has caused me nothing but trouble since he left his world, and I don’t see that I owe him any favors.”
Dr. Roop leaned forward and whispered something to Junup. The chief justice’s goaty eyes widened, and he scowled at Dr. Roop. Then he rose to his feet.
“Very well,” Junup said. “I’ll arrange it.”
I watched the chief justice leave the room.
“What did you say to him?” Captain Qwlessl asked.
Dr. Roop’s eyes widened. “I simply reminded him that all politicians have secrets they would prefer not to be revealed.”
I looked up at him. “You made an enemy of him for my sake.”
“It was no great sacrifice,” Dr. Roop said. “He’d already made an enemy of me. I just made things mutual.”
• • •
A little while later, a peace officer opened the door and led me out. He would, he explained, take me to see my father. Then I would go back to the main terminal, where I could say good-bye to my other friends. Then I would have my nanites neutralized, and I would board a shuttle.
As I walked down the hall, a voice inside my head kept saying that this was real, it was actually happening. I was going back to Earth without anything to help my mother. Tamret was going back to her world. My father was going to prison. I tried to silence the voice. I had beaten the odds so many times before; I would do so again. I would get us all out of this. I just needed an opportunity. I would know it when I saw it. I kept saying that, but the other voice, the one that said it was all over, would not be shouted down.
