Rath's Trial (The Janus Group Book 4)

by Piers Platt

  Silence settled over the room.

  * * *

  The team gathered in the resort’s expansive living room. They waited expectantly, and looked up as one, watching Paisen and Tepper as the pair walked in.

  “Well, congratulations,” she told them. “You’re all now unofficial Federacy employees. Welcome to Project Arclight.”

  “What does ‘Arclight’ mean?” Huawo asked.

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” Tepper said. “It’s just a codeword.”

  Paisen cleared her throat. “Arclight is a black project. They’re paying us from a funding pool outside of budgetary oversight, and the handful of senators that agreed to hire us will deny knowing a thing about us if we’re ever caught. All they do is cut us checks and read our reports.”

  “No pardons?” Vence asked.

  “No,” Paisen said. “I tried, but they’re not willing to go that far. Maybe when we’ve proven our value, we can make a better case.”

  “I’ll take a paycheck,” Rika observed, shrugging. “How much?”

  “It’s going to vary based on our expenses,” Paisen said. “But I think we’re looking at around two hundred grand a month, for each of you.”

  Rika smiled. “I’ll definitely take a paycheck.”

  “The Intel Committee has given us a list of Territorial planets with known increases in military spending. Arclight’s first objective will be to conduct a rapid assessment of those planets, to determine the threat level of each.”

  She tapped on the table’s control screen, and a hologram of a planet appeared, rotating slowly.

  “The first planet is Lecksher Station,” Paisen said. “Often used as a training location for private military outfits given it has a wide mix of terrains and climates. But rumor has it they’re building up a space fleet, which could be cause for concern.” She gestured at the hologram, and a new planet took the former’s place. “Next is Jokuan. You may have read about their civil war a few years ago. Rath was injured during an assignment there, in fact.”

  And I haven’t heard from him in a while, Paisen thought. She made a mental note to check in on him.

  “What are we assessing, exactly?” Vence asked, after Paisen had briefed the remaining four planets.

  Paisen nodded at Tepper, letting the younger man field the question.

  “Troop strength, ground- and space-based vehicle counts, quality of training, morale, skill level of enlisted and commissioned leadership … everything,” he said. “Think of this as a two-phase operation. Phase One we do a quick pulse check at each of the six planets, in and out in under a week. The goal is basically to assess the threat, and prioritize our resources for Phase Two. In Phase Two, we’ll concentrate on monitoring the highest threat planets.”

  “Like an early warning system,” Wick said.

  “Exactly,” Paisen said. “The Senate’s worried they’re going to get blindsided. Our job is to tell them if a strike’s coming. And if it’s coming, they need to know where it’s coming from and when. Then they can activate the Fleet Reaction Force in time to protect the intended target.”

  “When do we start?” Huawo asked.

  “As soon as we can,” Tepper said. “We’ll split up into teams of two and take civilian flights to our assigned planets. First wave heads out tonight. I’m sending your individual assignments and travel documents to your datascrolls – you’ll conduct mission planning en route.”

  “One last thing,” Paisen said, as the team began to disperse. “When you get on the ground, orders are to use your Forges to build surveillance equipment only … no weapons.” She held up her hand, anticipating the complaints. “I don’t like it either, but those are the rules we have to play by. And they will know if we break those rules – we’ll be sending them mission recordings to review, just like we did in the Guild. If anyone gets caught with a weapon, we’re on our asses. No funding, the project is over.”

  “What if we get caught by the planets we’re spying on?” Rika asked, nonplussed.

  “Don’t,” Tepper told her.

  20

  The cryopod’s raised lid was rimed with frost. Lonergan heard a click, and then the device’s warming circuits hummed to life, heating the white-sheeted mattress from within. He glanced at the pod’s vital sign readout, and then checked the ship’s clock. After a moment, the pod’s inhabitant took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “What year is it?”

  Lonergan hesitated. “2415,” he said.

  A groan, through vocal chords hoarse from long disuse. The young man opened his eyes. Squinting, he looked up at Lonergan. “My god.”

  “Yes. I’ve aged. We all have. We’ve spent a long time waiting,” Lonergan said.

  “Water,” the young man said.

  Lonergan passed him a disposable cup and the man drank deeply.

  “Where are we?”

  “Deep space,” Lonergan said. “In the Territories, for now.”

  The man sighed. “My friend, if I’d known how long it would take, the price you would all pay, I never ….”

  Lonergan waved him away. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to see you again. And you were right. It’s time.”

  “Are the others safe?”

  “Of course. They’re here. They’re eager to see you.”

  “Take me to them.”

  “Are you sure? The dehibernation process can be taxing, I know.”

  “You know it too well, eh, Lonergan? How many shifts?”

  “We’ve each spent four shifts on watch. Ten years per shift,” Lonergan said.

  The young man shook his head in chagrin. “Over two hundred years. Too long.”

  He pushed himself into a seated position, and swung his legs slowly over the lip of the suspension pod. Lonergan braced him under one arm, and helped him stand.

  “I’m fine – take me to them.”

  The other five council members were waiting in the conference room, but none of them sat at the large round table. They stood in silence near the entrance door, waiting.

  The door slid open, and the young man entered, still wearing his hibernation scrubs and life-sign monitoring gear. Egline gasped when she saw him, but quickly covered her mouth.

  “A sight for sore eyes, Egline?” the young man asked.

  She nodded, and a tear rolled down one cheek. “It’s just good to see you awake.”

  “And you,” he said. He looked at each of them in turn, a knowing smile on his lips. “It’s good to see all of you. My friends.”

  They came to him then, and he embraced them. After a time, they took their seats around the table, and the young man sat in the center.

  “I’ve missed much. But Lonergan tells me the galaxy is ready for another revolution,” he said.

  “It is,” Egline said. “It’s ready for you.”

  21

  The guard escorted Rath down the hall to the jailhouse’s meeting room, but when he unlocked the door, Rath was surprised to find that Mishel was not alone in the room this time.

  “Martin!”

  The detective gave him a sad smile. “Hello, Rath.”

  Rath made as if to give the detective a hug, but his manacles prevented it, so they shook hands instead, awkwardly. The three men sat.

  “It’s good to see you,” Rath said.

  Martin nodded. “And you.”

  “I’m sorry about … well, about how we last parted.”

  Beauceron adopted an angry expression. “That’s the second time you’ve knocked me out and run off, you know.”

  Rath winced. “I am sorry.”

  The detective shrugged, smiling. “You’re forgiven, considering how everything turned out. And it seems you kept your word: here you are, on trial for your crimes. Though I’m not sure I’m happy to see it, after all. And I’m not all that pleased about testifying against you.”

  “They’re calling you as a witness?”

  “Yes.” Beauceron nodded. “I’m sorry, my friend. You did tell me you were a
guildsman, and that you had murdered people.”

  “But he never told you he killed Delacourt, specifically,” Mishel pointed out.

  “Me? No, he did not, Mr. Warran. But he told Jaymy as much.”

  “Yeah,” Rath agreed, glancing at his lawyer. “That wasn’t the brightest thing I’ve done.”

  Mishel rolled his eyes.

  “I gather your reunion with her didn’t go as planned …?” Beauceron asked.

  “Not so much,” Rath said. “How have you been?”

  “Good,” Beauceron allowed. “I could do without all the publicity, though. The limelight doesn’t suit me. It was dying down, and then you got arrested.”

  “Sorry about that,” Rath said. “Wasn’t my intention.”

  The detective chuckled. “No, I suppose not.” He eyed Rath contemplatively. “I’m on a new assignment right now. Do you mind if I ask you some questions about our time together?”

  “What can you offer in return for my client’s cooperation?” Mishel asked, before Rath could answer.

  “Nothing,” Beauceron admitted. “I can talk to the D.A., but she’s not aware of my investigation, and I can’t promise she’ll offer anything if Rath can help me.”

  Mishel looked at Rath. “Your call. Just remember that Detective Beauceron goes on the stand this afternoon, and anything you say to him now is fair game for him to talk about in court.”

  “I understand,” Rath said. “Go ahead, Martin.”

  “You remember the high energy prototype weapon we built on the Hurasu? We have reason to believe it’s been used recently.”

  Rath pressed his lips together. “That’s not good.”

  “No, not at all. Do you know where the Hurasu is?”

  Rath shook his head. “No.” He glanced at Mishel, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t. I would guess the people who built that weapon were reluctant to build it in the first place, and they probably promised to destroy it as soon as they were done with it.”

  Beauceron smiled. “True.”

  Rath continued: “If I were to destroy a weapon like that, I would probably dump it out the back of a spaceship, leaving it in a rapidly decaying orbit around a star.”

  Beauceron sighed. “I hoped you would tell me something like that. But that leaves me with one other explanation: someone built another version.”

  “I don’t know anyone that would have reason to do that,” Rath told him. “Especially if they just destroyed their own working version.”

  The detective nodded. “And I’m guessing your colleague never gave you any hint as to who she sold the plans to?”

  Mishel cleared his throat, but Rath answered without hesitation. “I can’t help you there. Whoever stole those plans in the first place probably sold them through an anonymous broker.”

  Mishel frowned at Rath, but said nothing. Beauceron was lost in thought, and failed to notice. “Mm, I remember Paisen saying as much. Well, I suppose that means I’m back to square one.”

  “Martin,” Rath said. “I need your help with something, too.”

  The detective cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

  “I’ve been attacked twice now, both times by members of the NeoPuritan Church. Have you heard of them?”

  Beauceron frowned. “I’ve heard of them, but I don’t know much about them, to be frank. Was Delacourt a member of this church?”

  “No. I don’t think I’ve ever … interacted … with anyone from their church. I thought they might have wanted revenge, but if so, I’m not sure what they want revenge for.”

  Beauceron drummed his fingers on the table. “Motive can be tricky. Opportunity is easy to establish, but motive … it’s hard to know why people do anything, sometimes. And it could just be a coincidence that these two different groups included men affiliated with that religion.”

  “I don’t think so,” Rath said. “But I can’t figure out why they want me dead.”

  “I’ll think about it, but I’m not sure I can be much help.” Beauceron stood up. “Apologies, I have to make my way over to the courthouse now.”

  “Of course,” Rath said, standing and shaking the detective’s hand once more. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

  “Ask yourself this,” Beauceron suggested. “Who stands to gain? Who benefits from your death?”

  Rath snorted. “Aside from human society in general?” He turned serious. “I don’t know who gains from my death.”

  “Figure that out, and you’ll likely find your answer,” Beauceron counseled him. He walked to the interrogation room’s door. “I’ll see you in the courtroom.”

  “Mm,” Rath said. “Martin?”

  The detective paused in the door frame. “Yes?”

  “Don’t forget to lock the door this time.”

  Beauceron smiled. “I never do.”

  * * *

  District Attorney Anguile clasped her hands behind her back, facing the witness stand.

  “And what did the tests show, Doctor?”

  “The two samples were a match,” the doctor on the witness stand recounted. “DNA collected from the man who broke into the Suspensys facility matched DNA collected in the restaurant.”

  “And that man’s name was …?” the prosecutor asked.

  “According to Tarkis birth records, his name is Rath Kaldirim.”

  “The accused. Thank you, Doctor,” Anguile said. “That will be all.” She took her seat.

  “Mr. Warran?” the judge prompted.

  Mishel glanced up from his datascroll, distracted. “No questions from me, your honor.”

  “Ms. Anguile, your next witness, please.”

  The bailiff opened a side door, and showed Beauceron into the courtroom, directing him to the witness stand. He was sworn in, and then took a seat.

  “Please state your name and occupation, for the record,” Anguile said.

  “Martin Beauceron, Detective Sergeant, Alberon Interstellar Police.”

  “Detective, can you tell us the first time you encountered the defendant?”

  “It was on Alberon. He kidnapped me and another police officer, before taking on the physical aspect of that officer. He locked us in the back of an air truck and sent us into an air traffic holding pattern.”

  “But Rath Kaldirim can take on anyone’s appearance,” Anguile interrupted. “How do you know it was him, and not some other guildsman?”

  “We discussed the incident several months later. He admitted to having kidnapped me during those discussions. And he was familiar with aspects of the incident not released to the general public.”

  “I see. And what did he do immediately after capturing you?”

  “He murdered Senator Reid.”

  “Objection: speculation,” Mishel said, lazily. “How can Detective Beauceron possibly claim to know what my client did or did not do on the ground, when a second ago he stated that he was locked in the back of an air truck several thousand feet in the air?”

  “I’ll rephrase,” Anguile said. “Have you read the official investigation report on Senator Reid’s assassination?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “When was Senator Reid murdered, relative to your kidnapping?”

  “He was murdered several minutes later,” Beauceron said.

  “In that same vicinity? By someone resembling the officer with whom you were locked in the air car?” Anguile prodded.

  “Yes,” Beauceron admitted.

  “What is this line of questioning meant to establish?” Mishel asked. “I thought my client was on trial for the murder of Arthin Delacourt, not Senator Reid.”

  “I’m merely establishing that the witness is familiar with the accused, and that the accused has a history of being in close proximity to assassinations,” Anguile argued.

  “Let’s focus on the issue at hand,” Judge Aurmine told her.

  Anguile nodded. “Yes, your honor. Detective, when you spoke with Mr. Kaldirim several months later, what did he reveal to you?”

&nb
sp; “He confessed to being a ‘contractor’ in the Janus Group.”

  “He admitted he was a guildsman?” Anguile asked.

  “Yes,” Beauceron agreed.

  “Did he say he had killed people?”

  Beauceron looked at Rath apologetically. “He did. He said they weighed heavily on his conscience.”

  Anguile ignored him. “You’re an expert on the Guild, aren’t you, Detective?”

  “I’m not sure I would say that,” Beauceron hedged, shifting in his seat.

  “You’re being modest,” Anguile told him, sternly. “Let me put it this way: can you think of any other police officers with more direct experience investigating the Guild?”

  “No,” Beauceron admitted.

  “From your expert knowledge, then, did guildsmen generally work alone on contracts?”

  “I believe they did,” Beauceron said.

  “In your considered opinion, is it likely that a team of guildsmen masterminded the attack on Suspensys? Or was it likely just one man?”

  “It was likely just one individual,” Beauceron said.

  “But before Mr. Delacourt’s pod was stolen from the facility, Suspensys was subjected to a sophisticated cyber-attack. Did Mr. Kaldirim ever mention working with a hacker during your time together?”

  “He did. He told me he had collaborated with a hacker during one of his missions.”

  “Did Mr. Kaldirim ever show you a necklace he habitually carried on his person?”

  “He did,” Beauceron said.

  Anguile walked over to her table, and picked up a plastic bag containing the multi-colored crystal necklace Rath had bought for Jaymy. “Is this the necklace he showed you?”

  “That looks like it, yes,” Beauceron said.

  Anguile walked over to the jury, holding the evidence bag up. “This is a crystal necklace sold by a jewelry store in the Rainbow Desert, here on Scapa. Mr. Kaldirim was arrested with it in his pocket.”

  She let them study it for a minute, then set it back down on her table. “Detective Beauceron, did Mr. Kaldirim tell you anything else about the necklace?”