That sparked Filpot’s interest. He dug through his paperwork trying to find the copies of the comms. Finally he laid them on the table next to his evidence submittal sheet. His eyes narrowed as he made out the tiny writing.
“These were submitted by Madge Zvokallon as part of her statement against you,” Filpot read.
“Madge,” Casey repeated pensively. Was it possible? Was Madge the one who had set him up? He had never investigated Madge’s links to Corizen. She was his boss after all; the one who had been overseeing this investigation from the beginning. But that could have been the perfect way to make sure she was never suspected. What could be her motive though? She had argued vehemently in every meeting Casey had been to against taking over Corizen. Unless . . . all of this was just a plot to get Premier Rhodam ousted from her position? Someone had taken great pains to show that Casey had been directed in terrorism by the Premier. It would surely create uproar in the Union when these documents became public. Citizens everywhere would demand Rhodam’s resignation and maybe even her arrest. The Minister of Interplanetary Relations would be perfectly placed to be named the new Premier.
The next day he sat in the accused’s chair in the large Congress hall studying Madge’s face very carefully while she testified against him. Filpot sat at his side intently scribbling notes while Madge explained Casey’s investigation of the terrorism. Madge was seated in a chair in the middle of the raised quadruple row of Congressional seats. The senior member of Congress, Representative Choran, was serving as Arbiter, or the moderator of the trial, and he stood to the left side of the witness chair, patiently listening to her recital. On her right, a soberly clad interpreter translated her statements into Denicorizen for the benefit of the Representatives that did not speak Basic.
Nearly every Representative’s chair was filled. They easily had more than the seventy-five members needed to hold a trial. Fortunately Casey’s trial was closed to the public. It was hot enough from all the closely seated bodies as it was. In the center of the room, Madge was fanning herself as she gave her testimony.
Madge’s face was smooth, with no tension at all. Her obsidian eyes sparked during her careful explanation of Casey’s repeated failures to find the traitor. Her tone insinuated her own disbelief in Casey’s lack of progress.
“When did you begin to suspect Ambassador Morten of conspiring with the terrorists?” asked an older Representative.
“Frankly, I had wondered for the last year if Mr. Morten was competent enough to do the job. However, every time I requested his removal from the post of Ambassador, I was overruled by the Premier.” Casey listened to this in disbelieving chagrin. Madge had given him no sign that she had disapproved of him so much as to want him fired. She had never even hinted at any dissatisfaction with his work.
“After the bombing of the embassy I was horrified and wondered if he might be the one who had allowed the Brotherhood to penetrate the International Complex. Yet I had no proof so I could not accuse him. Instead, to protect further innocent people from being harmed, I recalled him to Tyre where I refused to give him permission to leave. This, I felt, would sever his contact with the terrorists until I could obtain some proof of his actions. At my request, his terminal archives from the embassy were salvaged and examined.” And modified to be incriminating, thought Casey.
“These terminal records are the evidence submission that you have made yourself?” questioned a woman leaning forward intently in her Representative’s chair.
“Yes. I also included the Ambassador’s request to return to Corizen and the Premier’s assent that also placed him directly under her supervision instead of mine.”
The Representatives questioned her a few more times about various details, and Casey watched Madge carefully, hoping to make eye contact, but she never glanced in his direction at all. It was if she knew she was lying about him and couldn’t bear to look at him. Though to be fair, maybe she refused to acknowledge him because she really did believe him to be a murdering traitor. Hard to say. Her tone of voice was even and matter-of-fact, the same voice she used when speaking to the Security Council. He frowned. He had heard her both recount bald facts and convincingly mislead the Council in this same tone. She was skilled in that area.
The next couple of witnesses were Armada officers Casey did not recognize. They testified that they had received written orders from Casey asking for Armada explosives for the use of the CPF, which had been delivered to a warehouse on the International Complex per his instructions. Later investigation had confirmed that these explosives were the kind that had destroyed the embassy. Casey listened to this with horror. He could sense immediately that these officers were telling the truth. Yet he had never asked for any explosives. It made him sick to think that the Armada’s own weapons had been used to kill all those people.
The next witness was Admiral Hernandez. Casey sat up straight and wondered what the Admiral would testify. Casey simply couldn’t believe the Admiral was part of the conspiracy. Yet his own wife had accused him. Who knew what pressure was being applied to the Admiral?
In the end, his testimony wasn’t so bad. He merely explained that the officers had requested verification before releasing the explosives, and he had confirmed that the Ambassador was indeed working with the CPF and had permission from the Security Council to request any needed resources.
In frustration, Casey ground his teeth. Why hadn’t the Admiral actually checked with Casey first? They would have figured out that something was wrong in time to save hundreds of lives. Unfortunately, it had probably been dismissed from the Admiral’s mind by a million other things. After all, once or twice Casey had passed along CPF requests for additional supplies.
When the Admiral left the witness chair, he did not meet Casey’s eyes. Somehow Casey felt he wasn’t the only one feeling that the embassy explosion could have been prevented.
The witness after the Admiral was Kerry Laine, the aide who had helped in the search for Tiran. She testified that she had seen Casey and Steven go into the basement the morning of the embassy bombing, where the explosives had later detonated. Casey racked his memory—had he gone into the basement the day of the bombing? He couldn’t remember. Laine then explained how Steven had sent everyone out of the underground conference room while he remained alone with Casey only minutes before the bomb was detonated. Casey remembered this part clearly; Steven had asked everyone to take a break so Casey could regain his composure. Unfortunately, he could now see why Steven was under arrest as well. With this testimony they would certainly see Steven as Casey’s accomplice. When Laine was dismissed from the witness chair she was the first to glance Casey’s way. Her facial expression surprised him. If anything, he would have guessed she pitied him for some reason.
Finally, Casey watched the last witness and the sole Denicorizen approach the witness chair. He was a short man for a Denicorizen, probably a good half a foot shorter than Casey. He wore a Palace Guard uniform and strode to the chair with precise, clipped movements. In a flash, Casey placed Captain Jirac. He had been the officer of the Guard who had told him of the attack on Andie the night of the Inaugural Ball. His curiosity deepened. What could this man possibly have to say against Casey?
“Please state your name for the court record,” requested the Arbiter.
“I am Captain Evan Jirac of the Palace Guard,” the Captain stated tersely.
“I understand you have direct evidence that the accused was working with the Brotherhood.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please explain the nature of your evidence.”
“A couple of years ago, the Ambassador came to see me at the palace. I was just a lieutenant then. He requested a private interview, during which he tried to recruit me into the Brotherhood.”
The entire room went deadly silent. Casey stiffened in shock, glancing at his advocate. Filpot’s pen had stopped; he was staring at the Captain with wi
de eyes.
The Arbiter recovered his voice first. “How did you respond to that?” he demanded.
“I am a loyal patriot, Arbiter. Naturally I refused,” answered Jirac. “The Ambassador then demanded that I help him get access to the Palace Grounds for a few of his friends. Of course I refused him again, and at that time he left me alone.”
“Why did you never report this to your commander, Captain?” demanded a Representative from the benches.
“I was frightened,” confessed Jirac. “The Ambassador had threatened retaliation against my family by the Brotherhood if I did not keep our conversation secret. I have two young children,” he explained, faltering slightly. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He seemed terribly nervous, and for good reason, Casey thought. He was obviously lying about meeting Casey, but still, Congress might decide that he was complicit in the embassy bombing for keeping quiet for two years. At the least he would probably lose his position as Captain. Who was he lying for though? Somebody in the Union or somebody on Corizen?
“What did the Ambassador want access to the Palace Grounds for?” asked another Representative.
“He didn’t say,” admitted Captain Jirac. Casey had immediately put it together though. They were trying to tie him to the assassination of Morek-Li Damato, not just the embassy bombing. The Representatives continued to grill the Captain for another quarter of an hour but he could tell them nothing more. Casey listened to his testimony with satisfaction. Every other witness had told things that they might actually believe, even if they had been misled, but Casey knew Jirac was lying. Finally, a tangible lead to the real traitor. Now if only he could find some way to prove it.
27. Redeeming Shelle
Packing her bag took Tiran only a few minutes. She had very little to put in there. She packed her one change of clothing and remembered how generous Sister Marna had been. It made her a little sad. Those women had taken her straight in and been her family for half a year, and now she didn’t even know if she would ever be able to see them again.
A hand squeezed her shoulder and she turned to face Zaq. His sorrowful eyes sought hers and she wondered once again if this would all be worth it in the end. It would take a miracle for them to succeed; still, she couldn’t give up on her parents. She might be the only hope either of them had.
“Are you set to go already?” she asked, trying to make her tone cheerful.
“I don’t have much to take with me. Burke packed the tools that he thinks we’ll need.”
Tiran picked up her bag. “Well, then I guess I’m ready if you are.” Zaq took her bag from her and followed her out of the room. They paused in the front room to wait for Burke.
“Ready to travel, my dear?” he chatted breezily, picking up his own bags. Just then, Erron walked in from the kitchen.
“Good luck, Burke,” he said, his eyes unusually serious. The two men shook hands. Burke didn’t say anything, and Tiran wondered if perhaps Burke was more afraid than he admitted. “Good luck to you as well, Zaq,” Erron continued warmly. “I have enjoyed sharing my room with you.” Zaq smiled faintly in return. Then Erron turned, speaking directly to Tiran for the first time since the day she had arrived in Davuune.
“I shall be waiting to relay the information to whomever you contact,” he said mildly. “I wish you good fortune on your journey.” Tiran nodded, her eyes averted. His voice still ripped at her composure, and she couldn’t manage to reply. Fortunately, he seemed to take that as an answer and retreated quietly from the room.
With no further conversation, Zaq escorted Tiran from the room and Burke followed behind them. The old transport that Zaq’s friend had given them was parked in front of the house. It had felt so safe here in Davuune. Now she would have to venture back into Roma, and Roma had the largest concentration of members of the Brotherhood. Zaq had been against it, but in the end it was the only way. The only people Tiran could go to for help were in Roma. Fortunately, Burke’s part of the plan required him to enlist the help of a friend there, so at least she didn’t have to travel alone. It felt safer somehow to be traveling with Zaq. He had kept her safely away from the Brotherhood so far anyway.
The journey to Roma was uneventful. They traveled first to Croask where they arranged to take a shuttle to Roma. Tiran had stayed hidden inside the transport with Zaq while Burke had gone out to buy the tickets. While the Brotherhood was certainly looking for Zaq, and possibly even Burke, they were not the focus of a planet-wide media campaign. Burke planned to scout the area before Tiran entered the shuttleport.
Inside the transport, Zaq fiddled nervously with a pocket torch, while Tiran stared anxiously out the window. “I’ve never been on my own in Roma before,” Tiran finally observed, a bit restlessly. “I hope I don’t get lost.”
Zaq turned his concerned eyes to hers. “Don’t worry,” he reassured. “We’ll drop you close enough to the house. You should be just fine.”
“But what if Jerrapo isn’t there?” fretted Tiran, voicing this concern for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Then I’m going to have to find my way back to the city center to find Bret Ka.”
“You have the map of Roma, right? I’m sure you’ll make it just fine.” Tiran could hear the lie in his voice. Zaq was just as worried as she was. So she didn’t voice her next concern. What if Bret Ka was not staying in Roma? She thought Congress should be in session but maybe it wasn’t. Bret Ka could be thousands of miles away back in Freeport. Would she be able to travel to Freeport by herself?
She shifted in her seat trying to think of something that would distract her from her impending task in Roma. Finally she decided to ask Zaq something that had been bothering her ever since they had made their plans to go back to the capital.
“Zaq, why is Burke going to face all this danger on the slim hope that you might be able to get the names of the members of the Brotherhood? I don’t think the benefit is worth the risk.”
“We’re not just going to get the names. We intend to destroy the receiver that allows the Oman to track all the members. That way anyone that chooses to desert will not be tracked down and killed immediately,” Zaq explained patiently.
“Even still,” Tiran voiced skeptically, “I can’t see why Burke would get involved now. He doesn’t like the Oman, true, but he was perfectly safe in Davuune. He’s so . . . well, I can’t think of the word exactly . . .”
“So pleasant that he seems frivolous?” suggested Zaq wryly.
“You said it, not me.” Tiran flashed him a grin. He rolled his eyes at her.
“I think that is just a show, Tiran. During these last few weeks, I’ve had a chance here and there to get a glimpse of something deeper in his personality. It’s almost as if he wraps himself in some kind of jovial shell to protect himself where he’s vulnerable. That’s the best way I can explain it,” Zaq described thoughtfully. The two sat in silence for a minute, and Tiran absently pulled at the threads from the fraying cuff of her sleeve.
“I think the Oman has hurt him deeply somehow and now he has decided that he will do something about it,” Zaq murmured. Tiran wondered about that. They hardly knew anything about Burke’s past. Something had convinced him to leave the Brotherhood and expend a lot of energy creating a device that could sever compulsory participation. Did he lose a family to the Oman’s cruel policies? Had he been asked to do something that repelled him utterly? Hard to think of what that would be for a man who had thought nothing of kidnapping a woman and selling her into slavery.
Finally, Burke returned to the transport with tickets purchased under false names. They had enough time to eat unhurriedly before returning to board the shuttle. In a way, Tiran felt a strange sense of regret when they left the transport. It had served them so well, and they had no way to return it to Zaq’s friend. All they could do was leave it at the shuttleport in Croask, not knowing if anyone would be returning for it or not.
Once they wer
e seated on the shuttle and no one seemed to give them a second glance, she relaxed enough to let her thoughts wander. Inevitably, the memories of her last shuttle trip, from Roma to Kruundin City, flooded back. She had been so excited and a little bit apprehensive as well. It was a pity she had ignored those warning twinges. Then she realized she never would have met Zaq that way. Would she really go back and undo the past? She wasn’t sure.
She awoke with a start to find that she had dozed off, her head drooping against Zaq’s shoulder. On her other side, Burke was snoring softly, his mouth wide open. Yawning, she lifted her head to see Zaq staring out the window at the swiftly passing ocean below.
“Strange, isn’t it?” she observed softly. “To be moving so fast?” Zaq turned to her, his rare warm smile lighting his face.
“I’ve never left Urok before. It’s exciting in a way. I never expected to ever see Roma.”
“That’s funny. I felt that same way about going to Kruundin City,” she replied. He smiled at her again.
The shuttle landed only slightly behind schedule and they found themselves leaving the shuttleport in the early morning. Tiran stretched and yawned some more. She really hadn’t gotten enough rest on the shuttle but there was no help for it now. A quick breakfast taken out from the shuttleport café revived her a bit and she looked around in interest. A few minutes later she spied another reward poster with her face on it, plastered on a wall. This picture was slightly better, and she wondered where they had gotten it from. It was several years old—it looked like it might even be from the class picture her last year in the campus primary school. Still, she was more nervous than ever, and she quickly pointed it out to Zaq and Burke.
“Best get you under cover quickly,” Burke observed after gazing at the poster. “You are going to be harder to keep hidden than I thought.” Zaq stiffened briefly then turned and smiled reassuringly at Tiran.
Corizen Rising Page 24
