by John Bowers
“No, your Honor. Marshal Walker is physically unable to appear today. In any case, Judge Moore ruled that his presence was not required at any of the sessions.”
“I know very well what Judge Moore said, but he isn’t here, is he? Never mind, you can tell Marshal Walker about the ruling when you see him.”
“Your Honor, before you do this, let me warn you that—”
“Warn me! You are going to warn me?”
Victoria bent over her table, facing the judge.
“Fair warning, your Honor! If you do what I think you’re about to do, I will appeal you all the way to the Attorney General and the Federation Supreme Court; I will have you disbarred.”
Van Wert grabbed her gavel and banged it.
“You are in contempt of Court! One thousand terros or thirty days in jail, your choice. Do you have anything else to say?”
“Yes, your Honor. But make your ruling first.”
Van Wert smirked and picked up a sheet of paper she had obviously already prepared. She adjusted her glasses.
“This Court, Alpha Centauri District 3 of the United Solar Federation, finds cause sufficient to indict Nick Walker, United Federation Marshal, on one count of the excessive use of force, to wit, the torture and brutalization of one Fred Ferguson, a prisoner under his charge. The Court also finds cause to order further investigation into the death of Steve Baker, United Federation Marshal, who died at the hands of Nick Walker.
“Pursuant to this finding, it is further ordered that Nick Walker, United Federation Marshal, be suspended without pay from his duties as a Federation Marshal for not less than one year, his reinstatement pending the outcome of said investigation and indictment. Marshal Walker is further ordered to surrender his badge, his weapons (including personal weapons), and any and all other materials, tools, or paraphernalia related to his duties as a U.F. Marshal.”
Van Wert banged the gavel and stood up.
“This case is closed.”
“YOU’RE OUT OF YOUR MIND!!!”
Van Wert’s eyes flew wide as Victoria, no longer even pretending to be civil, advanced on the bench.
“What did you say to me?” Van Wert slammed the gavel again, snapping the handle—the hammerhead ricocheted halfway across the room, narrowly missing Godney’s face.
“I said you’re out of your mind! You—”
“What was it you said about disbarment, Miss Cross? You’re skating awfully close to that yourself. I suggest you go back over there and sit down, maybe take an estrogen pill.”
Victoria stopped, but didn’t back off.
“Your Honor, nothing in your ruling comes even close to justice! Don’t you watch the holo-news? Didn’t you hear what happened on Saturday?”
Van Wert’s smirk returned.
“We aren’t here to talk about the weekend news, Miss Cross. The evidence before this Court clearly indicates that Marshal Walker’s history is at best questionable, and at worst criminal. That is the only thing we are here to discuss, and I made my ruling based on that evidence.
“As for Saturday, I anticipate new charges may arise out of that.
“You go ahead and file your little appeals, Miss Cross. Knock yourself out. That will take three or four years at minimum. In the meantime, Marshal Walker is grounded. And the worlds will be safer for it.
“Bailiff, take Miss Cross into custody until she pays her fine.”
Van Wert turned down the steps to the exit door and swept out of the courtroom.
Thursday, June 1, 0445 (CC)
75th Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
Gary Fraites glared across his desk at Brian Godney, who for once looked abashed.
“The hearing is over, Brian. Do you know what that means?”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“What I’m referring to is your future. When this whole thing started, I told you you were fired, but the court order in your hand at the time precluded me following through on that. Now that the hearing is done, I am no longer precluded. Do you follow me?”
Godney nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“You have embarrassed this office with your antics. The entire goddamn planet, never mind the rest of the Federation, thinks we’re a bunch of ignorant, incompetent fools, thanks to you!”
Godney swallowed, but didn’t say anything.
“Before we go any further, I need an explanation.”
“An explanation for what?”
“Yesterday in court, you tried to withdraw from the hearing. Why?”
Godney’s face slowly turned red. He shook his head in helpless confusion.
“I just—it didn’t seem worthwhile anymore.”
“It didn’t seem worthwhile? You don’t believe in your case anymore?”
“I did. I mean, when it started, I did, but…”
“What happened?”
“It was ARMO. They’ve been terrorizing the Federation for years, and Walker gutted their operation on Saturday.”
Fraites raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised you aren’t filing murder charges against him for killing twelve terrorists.”
“No, no, you don’t understand! ARMO has to be destroyed! They are terrible people. When Walker got on that train, the first thing he did was separate out the legitimate passengers and put them in the last train car, then he disconnected it to protect them from danger.”
Fraites nodded. “Okay.”
“Then—the fucking terrorists blew that car up anyway, just because they could. People like that don’t deserve to live. I’m glad Walker and Green killed them.”
Fraites stared at him for a long, surprised moment.
“I’m impressed, Brian. I didn’t think you had enough common sense left to recognize that.”
“Oh, come on, Gary! You know how much I hate violence! People like that have to be stopped.”
“Even if it takes violence to stop them?”
Godney’s face flushed even more. He lowered his eyes and nodded.
“Walker did us all a favor, even if he didn’t get the man at the top.”
Fraites felt a squirm of discomfort. Kenneth Saracen had gotten off the planet within hours of the gunfight on the Alpha Express. He was still at large, but at least his ARMO organization was fragmented; it might take him years to rebuild it.
“I suppose it didn’t help that Marshal Green was killed?”
“No.” Godney looked pained. “What’s even worse is that ARMO murdered Walker’s fiancée. That was completely uncalled for. I’m sorry Walker didn’t get to kill the man behind it.”
Gary Fraites sat silent for a moment; he had called Godney into the office to give him the joyful news—he was fired. Now…he wasn’t so sure.
“What are you going to do now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Judge van Wert cleared you to file charges against Walker for excessive force. What about that?”
Godney shrugged. “That incident took place on Ceres. I would prefer that someone from Ceres file those charges, if he thinks they are indicated.”
“You’re not going to do it?”
“No. Even if it had happened here, I think this office has bigger things to worry about than Fred Ferguson’s ear.”
Fraites leaned back in his chair and stretched, then gazed out the window for a moment. He turned back to Godney.
“Brian, would you like to keep your job?”
“Yes, sir, I would. If that’s possible.”
“Are you willing to accept one year’s probation?”
“Yes, sir. What are the terms?”
“No more end runs around me. No more courtroom antics based on your bleeding-heart sensibilities. No more charges of any kind against anyone at all without my authorization. Think you can handle that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And a ten percent cut in pay. It would take years to make up the cost of the court resources you wasted, but in a small way you can make up for
part of it. Agreed?”
Godney bit his lip as if in pain, but nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay. Now, go see if you can entice Victoria Cross to come back. If you succeed, I’ll cut your probation to six months.”
Chapter 31
Friday, June 2, 0445 (CC)
Trimmer Springs – Alpha Centauri 2
Suzanne Norgaard was buried with her engagement ring.
Nearly four thousand people attended the funeral. In the short year she had lived in Trimmer Springs, Suzanne had earned the love and admiration of nearly the entire community. Nathan Green had only been there a few weeks, in transit to a new assignment once he got his official badge, but had also made a favorable impression.
It was a gorgeous summer day, both suns high, but with a mountain breeze to temper the heat. Bishop Freda Speers, pastor of the large church in the town center, conducted the service. She said all the right words, said them sincerely, and had to stop a couple of times to control her own emotions.
Nick, his left cheek sporting nineteen sutures, stood with Kristina and held her hand while she gripped his arm. They both trembled with emotion, but managed to avoid a breakdown until it was over. As the caskets were lowered into the ground, twenty officers of the law, including United Federation Marshals and Trimmer Springs city police, fired a salute. It was a beautiful sendoff, respectful and appropriate, but it seemed much too little. Both Nathan and Suzanne should have lived many more decades, and nothing could make up for that.
Still, Nick was grateful.
He escorted Kristina back home. They would talk about the future in a few days, and make plans. But today was for Suzanne and Nathan—discussion of anything else just didn’t seem right.
Saturday, June 3, 0445 (CC)
Trimmer Springs – Alpha Centauri 2
Nick cleaned out his desk at the U.F. Marshal office and packed everything into his hovercar. By court order he was forced to surrender his badge and weapons to the U.F. Marshal, and he gave them to Marshal Robert Bridge, who came to Trimmer Springs to handle the matter in person.
Bridge accompanied him out to the car.
“It isn’t over, Nick. I talked to the U.F. Attorney, and he isn’t going to file the excessive force charge. As for the Steve Baker investigation, give me a month and I’ll declare the matter closed based on the depositions you took from those girls. At that point, your reinstatement will just be a matter of time.”
Nick stared across the street and down the block at the church, with its six-story bell tower, the tallest point in Trimmer Springs. He shook his head slowly.
“Thanks, Marshal, but I don’t think so. I’m done.”
“Done! Hell, you have five years left on your commitment. You can’t just walk away.”
“I’m not ‘just’ walking away. The court fired me. I think that constitutes a severance of my commitment.”
“Nick—”
“I can’t do it anymore, Marshal. I just can’t. I need to get away from it.”
“Where will you go?”
“I have no idea. I have to take care of Kristina, first and foremost. I’m responsible for her mother and Nathan. I owe her.”
“How are you responsible?”
Nick shook his head. “Complicated.”
He took a deep breath and offered Bridge his hand.
“Thank you for your support. I’m not ungrateful.”
Bridge took his hand and held it, then laid his other hand on his shoulder.
“Okay, Walker. Nobody has earned it more. But I hope you’ll come back someday.”
“Thanks. But don’t hold your breath.”
***
Victoria Cross was waiting when Nick got home. She had been at the funeral and spent the night in a hotel, giving Nick and Kristina time alone. They stood at the cliff edge and gazed across the Trimmer Plain. The breeze sweeping up from below washed over them.
“I’m sorry, Nick. I thought I could win it, but when Judge Moore died…”
“It doesn’t matter. Gabbard couldn’t have done a better job than you did. I appreciate you sticking up for me.”
“I wish the ruling had gone differently.”
“It’s okay. I hear the U.F. Attorney isn’t going to file charges. I’m off the hook.”
“I’m still going to appeal the decision. This is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t bother.”
“I already have the appeal written. All I have to do is file—”
“Just drop it, okay?”
“But you lost your job!”
He turned to look into her lovely blue eyes.
“Do you think I care about that right now?”
Her eyes misted.
“No, of course not. Even so—”
“I’m guilty. I tortured Fred Ferguson. Case closed. Just let it go.”
“Nick—”
“Vic, you and I are square now. You don’t owe me anything. I enjoyed watching you work in court, but it’s over now and best forgotten.”
She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.
“I am so sorry about Suzanne. And Nathan, too.”
“I know.”
“Do you have any plans yet?”
“No. Kristina and I will figure that out. But I doubt we’ll stay on Alpha 2.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“What about you? Any chance you can go back to the U.F. Attorney job?”
She let loose a short laugh.
“Believe it or not, Gary Fraites sent Godney to entice me to come back.”
“Yeah? How did that go?”
“I told Brian to go to hell. Even at twice the pay, I never want to work with him again.”
Nick grinned. Victoria Cross, the Star Marine, hadn’t forgotten her training.
“Well, good luck in your new career.”
She was silent a moment, gazing at the patchwork below.
“I think I’m done being an attorney,” she said.
He turned to her with a frown. “Why?”
“It isn’t fun anymore. It isn’t fulfilling.”
“Don’t tell me you’re quitting because of me. I don’t need that kind of guilt.”
“Yeah, it does have something to do with you, but the guilt isn’t on you. It would have happened sooner or later anyway.”
“So what will you do?”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Find yourself a rich old man and get married. You’ll never have to work again.”
She laughed. “Fuck you, Walker.”
She glanced at her watch.
“I should go. I need to get back to Lucaston; the train leaves in an hour.”
“Well…thanks for coming. I appreciate it.”
They turned back toward the house. Just as they reached it, Victoria turned to him.
“There’s something you need to know. I should have told you years ago, but never had the opportunity.”
“What’s that?”
“You remember Trevor? The guy you met at my apartment that night at Pepperdine?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll probably never forget him.”
“Well…Nick, it really did only happen that one time. It never happened again, and it has never happened since. Not with anyone.”
Nick stared at her in shock.
“What? You mean you’ve never—”
“Not once, not ever. For eleven years.”
“Jesus, Vic! You didn’t have to do that! Are you punishing yourself, or what?”
“No.” Her eyes brimmed, but she smiled. “I just never wanted to. Not with anyone else.”
He stared at her in dismay, feeling a tingle across his scalp.
“I know this isn’t the time, Nick, but I may never see you again, and I wanted you to know. I still love you. And I always will.”
She touched him on the cheek with her left hand, then with a sad smile, walked away.
END
&nbs
p; Coming soon!
Don’t miss Nick Walker’s sixth adventure as a United Federation Marshal, coming this fall. Check out this sample:
Manhunt on Tau Ceti 4
Victoria Cross tapped the tabletop with her rifle barrel, rattling the shot glass. The man didn’t bother to look up.
“What’s your name?”
He didn’t reply, but picked up the glass and took another swallow.
She tapped the table again, harder.
“Your name, asshole! What’s your name?”
He raised his head an inch, but his face remained in shadow.
“Jones,” he said quietly. “Nick Jones.”
Victoria’s heart fluttered; for a second she almost misted up. She pulled off her goggles, glanced back over her shoulder to make sure no one else was paying attention, and settled into the chair opposite Nick Jones. She laid her rifle sideways across the table.
She lowered her voice.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking for you for over a year!”
Nick Jones lifted his chin and gazed at her, no expression on his face. She reached across and pulled off his hat, dropping it onto the table. What she saw was shocking—the lines in his face had deepened; he looked faded, washed-out, and the light was gone from his eyes. The bullet wound in his cheek had left a hideous white scar through his beard, like an air-crash site in a forest.
He was only thirty-one, but he looked fifty. He looked old.
She reached across the table and laid her hand over his.
“Nick, for the love of God! Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Where’ve you been?”
“Around.”
“Why didn’t you ever contact me?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because I—” Her mouth snapped shut. “You know why.”
He shrugged and poured himself another drink. He downed it in a single gulp.
“Go home, Victoria. There’s nothing for you here.”
“Oh, really? What’s here for you?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing here for anybody. This place is the asshole of the Solar System.”
She glanced around in disgust.
“Yeah, I can believe that.” She squeezed his hand. “Nick, come back with me. We can talk this out.”
