“I believe the accusation is that she tricked a wealthy businessman into marrying her and convinced him to form the Resistance, all along intending to weaken Corizen politically.” Bret actually laughed out loud as he said it. Casey simply shook his head.
“Obviously these people never knew Laeren Bruche,” Bret continued in a tone of wry amusement. “I only met him once, but I can tell you, he lived and breathed the idea of a revolution. He certainly wasn’t brainwashed into it by his wife.”
“So what is the point of all this exactly?” Casey remarked skeptically. “I actually was part of a mission to help overthrow the King of Corizen, even if these reports apparently have all the facts backward. Why in the world would I be helping the Brotherhood now?”
Bret hesitated. “I’m not sure. But that’s the real problem for Congress, you see. They won’t allow extradition because though our government is skeptical about the fabrications about you guys forming the Resistance, they still think that you are the traitor helping the Brotherhood.”
Casey considered that thoughtfully. “So why not allow the extradition then?”
“They think the Union won’t bother to have a real trial.” His voice grew intense. “Let me tell you, Casey, most of the other Congress Representatives truly believe that the Union set all this up so they could take over.” Silently, Casey digested this information. It wasn’t a surprise, but he couldn’t think of a way to convince the Corizen Congress without proof of the real traitor.
“Have they detained anyone besides Steven?” Casey asked, raising his eyebrow meaningfully to Bret. He needed to know if Andie had been arrested also.
“They questioned your secretary Martin but didn’t arrest him. That was all the information that Steven was able to get to me before he was confined,” Bret answered.
Casey sighed in relief. Most likely they had questioned Andie and let her go also. He opened his mouth, trying to figure out how he could obliquely get some more details, but Bret cut him off.
“They won’t let me see Steven now. I think the only reason they let me see you is because they are hoping to record some top secret confessions between the two of us,” Bret added drily.
Both men smiled at each other. Casey understood the real message. Bret knew that Casey wanted to ask about Andie, and he was letting them know their conversation was being recorded. It was frustrating. Bret might even know where Andie was, and Casey couldn’t even ask.
“I did learn one thing from my own interrogators though,” Bret continued. “I think our Congress is going to charge you with the embassy bombing.” Casey shook his head in disbelief. It just kept getting wilder. The only small consolation was that he wouldn’t be dragged off-planet again just yet. Trials on Corizen were very different from Union trials though. He wondered if he would be granted an advocate or not. The right to an advocate to defend you depended on the crime you were charged with and which council you appeared before.
“Strangely enough, I also think they have agreed to let Citizen witnesses testify at the trial,” Bret continued. “Never heard of that happening before, but Corizen has never had a situation quite like this one.”
“Representative, your time is up,” the guard stated as he moved back to the gate.
Casey pressed Bret’s hand fervently. “Take care,” he whispered. “Stay out of trouble.”
“May Veshti preserve you, my friend,” Bret returned softly. Then with a nod, he turned and left the cell with the guard. Casey watched him go and then slumped back down on his cot. He let his head drop back against the wall. Nothing made sense anymore. Maybe when he got through this trial the nightmare would finally end, but after so much, he couldn’t quite believe it.
♦
To his relief, the next day Casey met his assigned Denicorizen advocate. He was taken into a windowless interrogation room and seated in a hard wooden chair in front of a plain metal table. After waiting only a few minutes a man entered the room and introduced himself as Manel Filpot. Casey took in the man with a practiced eye. His formal law robes were shabby but neatly pressed. He carried a battered vinyl case, presumably carrying any trial related paperwork. His dark brown hair was combed primly back from his forehead and his eyes were hooded but alert.
Overall, Casey figured it could have been worse. He couldn’t judge the skill of the advocate standing before him, but he was reasonably sure Counsel Filpot was not a complete novice. Though judging by the state of his belongings he wasn’t a terribly successful one either. Serving as an appointed advocate in Roma must not pay very well.
“I have been assigned to represent you at your trial,” Filpot began briskly, striding to Casey’s desk and opening his case. He pulled a sheaf of paper out and a couple of memory disks. “You have been accused of conspiracy and terrorism against the Republic of Corizen, as well as a couple of lesser charges.” He cleared his throat and then continued, “I should tell you right off that you are being charged at the planet level, which means your judging council will be Congress. That is pretty straightforward given the nature of the crime. It also means that you will only have the right of appeal directly to the President since that is our highest court.”
Casey nodded. It could be worse. If he lost, he could appeal to President Gulann. Gulann would probably be at least fair to him.
“Everything you tell me will be held strictly confidential, and I suggest that you are as open with me as possible. It helps me plan a more effective defense,” Filpot suggested in a businesslike tone. He gave no hint of what he thought of the accusations against Casey. Casey was impressed. He had wondered earlier if his appointed advocate would be willing to defend a Citizen accused of killing hundreds of Denicorizens. So he freely began to tell Filpot what he knew.
“Well, I guess I should start by telling you that I am not guilty of any of this. I think I’m being framed, actually.” Casey went on to explain how so many of the accusations didn’t make sense, either with timing or motive. Trying to be helpful, he shared his theory that the Premier was using him as a scapegoat to repair her relations with Corizen. Filpot listened to him patiently.
“Well,” said Filpot, after Casey finished explaining his side, “if the Union Premier is trying to cover her own mistakes, it is not working very well.”
“The Council is willing to reduce all charges against you,” he continued, tapping his folder, “if you will name your contact with the Brotherhood and provide all the information you can to help find the Oman. Also, they would like a formal statement against the Union Premier.”
A statement against the Premier? That was interesting. So obviously the Corizen Congress wanted to lay this debacle right at the feet of the most powerful person in the Union.
“In exchange for your testimony you will serve no prison time,” Filpot explained. “Instead you will be exiled from the planet.”
“A plea bargain,” Casey observed sardonically. “Of course.”
“It’s an excellent plea bargain,” clarified Filpot. “Considering the evidence against you.”
Casey ran his fingers through his hair. “What exactly is the evidence against me? Apparently no one thought I needed to know yet.”
For the next hour, Filpot showed him the copies of all the electronic communications that had been pulled from his embassy terminal record. There were detailed instructions from the Premier’s office regarding providing additional help to the Brotherhood. Casey recognized almost none of it, except that his personnel ID was indeed stamped on all the copies. The only thing that was familiar was his memo asking to return to Corizen, and the speedy return from the Premier’s office authorizing him to go in spite of the orders from his superior, Madge. Following the other apparent comms from his terminal, it really did seem pretty incriminating.
“It does look bad,” Casey admitted finally to Filpot. “Yet haven’t you noticed that all of these are electronic communiqués? They
are easily faked and should be considered strictly circumstantial. I never received any of these except the last one sending me back to Corizen.”
Filpot frowned, tapping his fingers against the desk. “The Council has listed several witnesses who I expect to testify that you knew of these orders and were acting on them.”
“Then they will be lying. Who exactly are these witnesses?”
“Some Union Minister named Zvokallon tops the list. A couple of Armada guys, including the Admiral from the Corizen base.”
“Madge Zvokallon and Admiral Hernandez?” Casey repeated in shock.
“Some aide who worked with you at the embassy. Her deposition included the specific testimony that you arranged the bombing of the embassy.”
Casey’s face drained of all color. “I would have never . . . not for any reason . . .”
“All said, a formidable list,” concluded Filpot calmly.
“Wait,” Casey frowned. “None of these people are Denicorizen. Do you mean to say that I am going to have a trial here on Corizen and all of the witnesses against me are from the Union? Madge Zvokallon has never even set foot on Corizen!”
“Well, it does set a new precedent . . .” admitted Filpot. “Congress passed a new law allowing off-planet witnesses to be brought in when the charges are grave enough.”
Casey shook his head wearily. Something was just wrong about this whole way of running a trial. If Congress was going to be the council that judged his guilt or innocence, should they also be the ones able to make laws changing what kind of evidence could be introduced? That was anything but fair!
Filpot ran his finger down the list of witnesses. “Wait, there is one Denicorizen witness. Captain Jirac from the Palace Guard.”
The name sounded vaguely familiar but Casey couldn’t place it at all. “I don’t know him,” he groaned in frustration. “I can’t even begin to guess what he’ll be testifying about.”
“Well, don’t worry. I’ll see if I can get copies of his deposition.” Filpot stood and began packing the papers back into his briefcase. “Normally trials take months to begin, but Congress has decided to start this one quickly due to the . . . um, precarious political position right now, so I’ll return this evening,” Filpot explained. Casey’s heart started to race. Would they even have time to plan a defense?
“The last of the Citizen witnesses is arriving this morning. I’ll get to work on interviewing the witnesses myself.”
Casey rose politely as Filpot started for the door. He hesitated for a moment and then turned. “Ambassador? I just wanted you to know that I believe you,” he said softly. Then he knocked on the door and the guards escorted him out. Casey stared blankly after him. Time was shorter than ever but at least he had an advocate that would work hard to defend him. It wasn’t hopeless; surely in interviewing all those witnesses something of the truth was bound to come out.
26. Witnesses
Later in the afternoon, Casey’s guards returned him to the interrogation room. He sat patiently at his table, a bit surprised that Filpot had managed to get all his interviews already. He was impressed and impatiently eager to hear what his advocate had learned. However, when the door slid open he reeled in shock. Filpot had not returned early after all.
It was Councilor Meecham. His face was weary and drawn but he seemed to be very calm, considering he was visiting Casey in prison.
“Meecham!” exclaimed Casey, astonished. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on Tyre!”
“The Security Council had me accompany the witnesses for your trial,” Meecham related tiredly. “I pulled in a couple of favors so I could visit with an old friend,” he explained, his tone sorrowful. “Do you mind?”
“Please, sit down! I’m so glad to see you,” Casey welcomed warmly. Meecham slid into the battered chair with a quick glance around at the bare concrete walls.
“I appreciate you coming to see me,” Casey said. “Under the circumstances.”
Meecham laughed without any sign of mirth.
“Under the circumstances,” he repeated morosely. “I don’t know why I came. Except that I sincerely hoped that an old friend of mine could justify why he would do something so atrocious.”
Casey opened his mouth to explain, but Meecham cut him off.
“How could you, Morten? All those people, didn’t their lives mean anything to you at all?”
“I didn’t do anything! Meecham, somebody is out to get me! I am being framed!” Casey defended hotly. Meecham stared at him skeptically. “I hope you are planning a better defense than that. This Denicorizen Congress will eat you alive. You are guilty until proven innocent here.”
“It’s the truth!” Casey insisted heatedly. “I was never part of any plot to take over Corizen. I definitely never colluded with terrorists, and I absolutely never helped bomb my own embassy!”
Meecham still watched Casey’s face, his eyes sad. Obviously he didn’t believe him. Casey tried to think of some way to convince him.
“Meecham, you’re on the Security Council. You have been for years! You know that the Armada only got involved on Corizen at all to help the Resistance because they asked us to help. I didn’t come over here with my future wife and start a Revolution on the orders of the Premier! Rhodam wasn’t even the Premier back then! Doesn’t it sound just a little bit far-fetched?”
“She was the Defense Minister then. She could have done whatever she wanted. We were told that the Armada should help the Resistance because it would ultimately make Corizen less of a terrorist threat. That doesn’t mean that she didn’t create the Resistance in the first place,” Meecham said.
Casey sighed. “But I’m your friend, and I’m telling you it wasn’t that way at all.”
“I thought you were my friend,” lamented Meecham miserably. “I thought I knew you.” Then he pulled a pocket terminal from his coat and placed it on the table.
“But I’m telling the truth!”
“Explain this then,” Meecham muttered icily.
The Oman’s face appeared on the screen. Casey listened with horror as he gloated over the capture of Sirra Bruche, and then sat frozen in fear and disbelief as Andie appeared and confessed to overthrowing the Corizen government on the orders of the Premier. Then what little sanity was left in his life fled as his own wife stated that he had provided weapons to the terrorists. He stared uncomprehending at the terminal screen. He couldn’t even think. He could hardly breathe.
Meecham removed the pocket terminal and rose, but Casey was still struck dumb. He couldn’t even turn and look at the Councilor.
“Like I said, you need to think of a better defense. I hope you rot in hell,” he finished flatly before rapping on Casey’s door. The door slid open and the guard escorted Meecham out. Casey finally opened his mouth to call Meecham back but he was gone.
At the table, Casey dropped his head into his hands.
♦
Back in his cell he paced fiercely for the next hour. He replayed Andie’s statement for the Oman over and over in his head trying to make sense of it. Somehow when the CPF had picked them up Andie had fallen into the hands of the Brotherhood. It was the last thing he had expected but it was undoubtedly true. It was definitely Andie in the message and not some kind of freak double. Obviously she was making this statement under some kind of threat too. Yet he had a hard time imagining what they could threaten her with that would convince her to publicly accuse him of murder—unless the Brotherhood had found Tiran also. Casey winced at the thought. Andie would say anything at all to protect Tiran. Was it possible? Had the Oman finally caught Tiran as well?
He stopped his pacing and closed his eyes, trying to calm his rapid breathing. He would willingly grow old in prison if it could save Andie and Tiran, but if they would just let him free for a little while to try and rescue them! Unfortunately, among the other unfair legal processes on
Corizen, bail was almost never allowed once you were charged with a crime.
When his guards finally came to lead him back to the interrogation room once again, he was so impatient to hear what Filpot had found that he struggled not to hurry ahead of his escort. With effort he managed to keep to the guard’s leisurely pace. When they entered the room at last, Filpot was already seated at the table. Casey rushed in and sat down across from him.
“I have terrible news,” Filpot began without preliminaries. “Apparently a woman claiming to be your wife has been captured by the Brotherhood. She is accusing you of supplying the Brotherhood with weapons.”
“I heard,” Casey responded hoarsely. “One of the Union Security Councilors visited me this afternoon and played the message.”
Filpot eyed him carefully. Casey waited for the inevitable questions about why his wife was still alive and what she was talking about, but Filpot didn’t ask.
“Fortunately for us, general broadcast streams like that cannot be admitted as evidence. It may prejudice some of the Congress Representatives against you though. I’m sure they’ve heard it by now.”
As well as turning the rest of the planet against Sirra Bruche, Casey thought ruefully. He had underestimated the Oman in so many ways. If there was one final thing that could make the Denicorizens regret the Revolution, this was it.
“Unfortunately, I was not allowed to interview the witnesses myself. Apparently you are to have a preliminary hearing tomorrow where they will give their official statements. Then you will have a week to plan your defense before your trial by Congress.”
Only a week. Casey pursed his lips. He had a week to figure out who was really behind everything. Suddenly he had an idea.
“Didn’t you say that all the written comms were pulled from my embassy terminal record?” he asked with a frown.
“Yes,” Filpot confirmed.
“Then how did comms I sent and received on Tyre end up as evidence? Remember the memo to the Premier—the one I said was the only one I actually recognized? I sent that comm on Tyre and received the reply there also.”
Corizen Rising Page 23
