by TM Toombs
“All rise,” the same bailiff said as the judge entered the room and took his seat at the raised bench.
Looking at Eshan standing alone at his table and then around the room, the judge turned to smirk at the bailiff, “Where is counsel?”
“I was told he’d be here in 20 minutes and that was 30 minutes ago, Your Honor.”
“Check the hall.” The judge shook his head. Eshan heard the door in the back of the room quietly open and then close.
“You may be seated while we wait,” the judge said. As they waited, the judge busied himself looking over the folder the bailiff had handed him.
The rear door opened again. Eshan turned at the sound and watched a harried older man in a rumpled suit rush in, followed by an angry-looking man in an Air Force officer's uniform. Eshan had never seen the man before. He squirmed, glancing back at the door, but no one else entered. The officer glared at him. Eshan averted his eyes and turned back around.
“On time, as usual, Mr. Harris,” the judge remarked as he looked up from his reading.
“I’d apologize, Your Honor, but you know it’s not my style,” Mr. Harris said as he took his seat next to Eshan. Eshan glanced over his shoulder at the officer. He had taken a seat in the back row and stared at Eshan with such intensity that he began to sweat all over again.
“Mr. Wallace,” the judge began. Eshan turned to face the judge. “I understand that you assaulted one Mr. Brett Howes last night in the parking lot of Chilkoot Charlie’s. Is that correct?”
“I don’t know the man’s name, Your Honor, but yes, I did assault a man,” Eshan quietly admitted, rising to answer the judge.
“Would you care to inform the court why you decided to pummel Mr. Howes into a coma?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Harris, please advise your client that this is his one and only chance to persuade the court to take leniency on him. I’ll give you a minute to talk to your client since you were unable to make it here on time and counsel him before the proceedings.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Harris stood, turned to Eshan and in a hushed voice, said, “He wants you to describe the events from last night. Bleed your story to him, so the court can take pity on you and give you a lessor bail amount. Then that will work in your favor when we go to trial. Got it?” Eshan nodded.
“Are you ready, Mr. Harris?” the judge asked.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Wallace, please describe the events of last night.”
“No, Your Honor.” Eshan locked his jaw and met the judge’s incredulous stare with a look of shaky determination.
“Did Mr. Harris advise you to explain your actions last night?”
“He did, Your Honor.”
“Are you refusing to defend or explain your actions, Mr. Wallace?”
“Yes, Your Honor. I am.”
“Would you care to explain your reasoning behind that decision?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“You do understand that should you be found guilty at your trial; you could be faced with 10 years of prison time. And, should Mr. Howes never recover from the coma you placed him in, you could be facing attempted manslaughter charges.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
The judge frowned, looked down, reading. After a long minute, he looked back up and studied Eshan before speaking. “Mr. Wallace, I see from your previous run-ins with the law, that include trespassing, destruction of private property, as well as street racing and excessive acceleration, that you aren’t a violent offender. All your past offenses occurred during your formative years and since then, you have been a law-abiding citizen. In fact, I see you even spent six years in the Alaska National Guard as a scout in the 207th Infantry Group.”
The judge paused and quietly stared at Eshan. Eshan broke eye contact, looking down at the floor and scratched his nose.
“So, I’m going to ask you one final time, Mr. Wallace. Please explain to the court, what circumstances pushed you to the point that you deemed it necessary to assault Mr. Howes?”
“I understand and accept whatever decisions the court decides, Your Honor. Mr. Howes took away everything in my life and I wanted to take away his life.”
The judge pondered that for a moment before opening his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the Air Force officer sitting in the back of the room.
“Your Honor, I may have another option.”
“I’m sure you do, General Koonis. I was just waiting for you to jump in.”
“I’m here on behalf of Project Moon Base.”
The judge nodded, “I assumed so."
Eshan's head swung between the judge, the officer and back to the judge.
The judge looked at Eshan. "General Koonis and I wrote a joint proposal for the agreement between the Justice Department and the Pentagon." Then he turned to the General. "For Mr. Wallace’s benefit, please explain so he can make an informed decision.”
General Koonis slowly walked towards the judge’s bench while explaining, “Ever since we were dragged into that little scuffle between the Greys and Proximians from Proxima Centauri three years ago, we have been building radar and listening stations on the outermost dwarf planets of our solar system. But because it’s considered beyond dangerous to drop a human off on some lonely, remote satellite with just a suitcase full of supplies and a half-hearted ‘good luck,’ our government deemed it cost effective to use a certain element of the population to man these bases.” Turning to look directly into Eshan’s eyes, the General continued, “That’s where you come in. I can offer you a one-year solitary option over a 10-year prison sentence. With an addendum to extend it another year if Mr. Howes should happen to expire during your assignment.”
Eshan sat quietly, weighing his choices. “When do you need an answer?”
General Koonis looked at his watch, “You have less than 15 minutes to decide, otherwise you’re going to miss your transport.”
“You have a deal on two conditions.”
Koonis scowled. “And that would be?”
“I need to make a call to my parents.”
“Given the secrecy of the project, I’m afraid that’s not going to be feasible. But I can allow you to write them a letter, which I’ll have to review. What’s the second condition?”
Eshan nodded. “Can I have the pictures out of my wallet?”
“I’ll make sure you get them before your ship leaves,” Koonis offered Eshan his hand. Eshan shook hands with the general. It was a strong, forceful handshake.
“Mr. Harris, if you’ll fill out the transfer paperwork and get it to me by Monday, I’d appreciate it,” the judge said. “Mr. Wallace, I wish you the best. Court is adjourned.”
General Koonis leaned across the table to shake hands with Mr. Harris then led Eshan out into the hallway where two military police officers stood waiting. As the General and Eshan passed by, they fell in behind them, following them all the way out of the building. Parked at the entrance of the building was a dark blue, unmarked cargo van and a four-door sedan. Koonis stopped at the van and turned to Eshan. “Wait here.”
Koonis walked briskly over to the waiting sedan, where his driver opened the rear passenger door for him. Instead of entering the vehicle, the general bent over and appeared to be rummaging around in the back seat. Shortly, he stood, spoke briefly to his driver then walked back to Eshan with a notebook in his hand.
He stopped in front of Eshan and handed him the notebook and a pen. Eshan took the writing supplies with a slow nod. He had to be dreaming. Is this really going to happen?
“These gentlemen will take you to the transport station. Your liaison, Robert Curran, will meet you there with your instructions.” The General offered him his right hand, “Thank you for volunteering your services, Mr. Wallace. The nation appreciates the sacrifices you are about to make.” Eshan accepted the firm handshake before he was swiftly guided into the back seat of the windowless van. The door closed with a solid clunk, shutting
out the General and the world. He fastened his seatbelt and waited for the military escort to take their seats in the front of the caged-off area. Within seconds, they pulled away from the courthouse and sped towards the spaceport.
A moment later, a small window in the panel that separated him from the van’s cab opened.
“I’ll turn the cargo light on so you can write your letter,” the officer said then quickly closed the window. A dim interior cargo light flashed on.
Eshan picked up the notebook and pen he’d set beside him when he’d gotten into the van. He flipped over the front cover and began to write
.
“Dear Mom and Dad,
I’m sorry I didn’t get to say this to you in person. I love you and I’m sorry for all the stupid things I’ve done in the past.
I can’t tell you where I’m going, but I’ll be OK. I’ll contact you when and if I can.
Make sure there are lots of red-tipped white roses for Anna. Those were her favorite.
Love, your son,
Eshan”
Chapter 3
Eshan fidgeted in the back seat on the short and quiet drive from the court house to the recently completed Sarah Palin Intergalactic Space Port. He’d never left Alaska, let alone the planet. He imagined how Anna's eyes would have sparkled at the idea of this adventure. She loved anything that scared the bejesus out of a normal person, most certainly out of him. That was one of a million things he loved about her. She grinned at danger and jumped into conversations with strangers. He watched from the sidelines and stepped back from anything more dangerous than a too-hot cup of coffee. She would have loved this little secret exploit. A bittersweet sadness enveloped him as he pictured her beaming face, daring him to do something completely out of character for him. Like their first summer together when she dragged him along on a rafting trip down the Kenai River. He had never been more terrified in his life.
Until now.
Eshan rubbed at an insistent itch at the back of his neck when the van suddenly shuddered to a stop, tossing him back in his seat. The two Military Police officers in the front exited the vehicle in unison. The one that had been sitting in the passenger seat swiftly opened the sliding door and motioned for him to get out while the other man came around the back of the vehicle and waited. As Eshan emerged from the van, he looked around the dimly lit area. The absence of windows suggested that they were in an underground parking garage, although oddly absent of other cars. A large “Sub Level B” was painted in orange on the nearest dull gray cement pillar. Dust and a moldy odor filled the cold air tickling his nose, making him sneeze twice. A few yards away, shoved up against a cinder block wall, a large metal trash can overflowing with fast food containers, crumpled papers and other rubbish. The body and dried fluids of a mangled raven stained the concrete a few inches away from a mud-crusted high-top tennis shoe. A long neglected and abandoned parking structure.
A dinging sound drew Eshan’s attention to an almost indistinguishable elevator. He hadn’t noticed it earlier because it had been painted to blend in with the surrounding wall. As soon as the doors began to open, a tall skeleton of a man with white, wispy hair stepped out and walked towards them with a lopsided gait. He reminded Eshan of the absent-minded professor in that old movie about a frazzled scientist and a teenager going back in time in something called a Delorean. Tucked under one arm, the old man held a frightened, orange-striped kitten. He held out his other hand to shake Eshan’s hand.
“Mr. Wallace? I’m your liaison, Robert Curran. You can call me Bobby. Please walk with me. We don’t have much time.” He thrust the kitten at Eshan and turned swiftly and headed back to the elevator. The kitten's legs flailed to escape, but Eshan snatched it before it could take off.
“Oh!” Bobby stopped abruptly, turned back and Eshan nearly plowed into him. “General Koonis said you were writing a letter to your parents?”
“Yes. It’s on the back seat of the van. Was he able to get the things I asked for?” Eshan asked, afraid to take his eyes off the wiggling kitten.
“He did. They are in with your supplies that are being loaded right now.” Bobby turned in a lopsided spin and hurried back towards the waiting elevator, his wild hair bobbing erratically with each jarring step.
Eshan held the tiny beast at arm's length, as it now clawed to get away. A shaking ball of fluff, it meowed plaintively, and stretched out its front paws, reaching for something--anything--to cling to. “What’s with this thing?” Eshan asked as he jogged to catch the elevator before the doors closed, his escort beside him every step. Once inside the elevator, he tucked the kitten under his arm as he’d seen Bobby do. The kitten quieted down and began to rhythmically vibrate. Never having any experience with cats before, Eshan guessed it was purring. Or recouping for its next escape attempt.
“It’s for your mental health. We wouldn’t want you spending a year all alone with no one to talk to. That would drive just about anyone insane. I took the liberty of naming her for you.” The elevator chimed. Before the doors slid completely open, Bobby was through and lumbering down the wide access way in his quick, jerking walk. Their destination could only be the large, white metal door at the end of the hall.
Eshan caught up to him once again, “But I don’t like cats. I don’t know anything about them.”
“You’ll be fine. There’s a manual for you on the supply ship. It explains everything,” Bobby spoke as rapidly as he walked. Eshan heard one of his guard’s chuckle.
They passed by multiple large viewing windows showing several terrestrial and non-terrestrial ships in various phases of preparation for departure. Eshan had never been to an airport or a spaceport. Anna would have gazed in awed wonder, but the familiar ball of anxiety churned Eshan's insides, his vision suddenly unable to settle on a single object, his heart pounded in his ears, his breathing rapid.
“I can't do this,” he panted, shoved the kitten at the nearest MP, then dashed back towards the elevator.
The thumps of running boots behind him propelled Eshan faster. He made it to the elevator and frantically searched for the buttons to open the doors. None! Only a key card slot. Strong hands grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around then pushed him against the closed elevator doors.
“There’s no escape, genius,” one of the MPs laughed. They took up positions on either side of him, grabbed him by the upper arms and lifted him up so that he tippy-toed. They swiftly walked him back towards Bobby, the door, and his destiny. The MPs deposited Eshan before Bobby.
“All out of your system, then?” Bobby asked as he handed Eshan back the kitten and fumbled with a key card to open the white door. The light above the door changed from an angry red to a passive green before the door hissed open.
Eshan was greeted with a short, expandable entryway leading to what he surmised was his transport ship. Standing in the hatch, a short, stocky Native Alaskan grinned at him like a Cheshire cat.
“Eshan Wallace, this is your supply ship captain, Jerry Reitz. Jerry, this is your cargo, Mr. Wallace.”
“Come on aboard, we have a little prep left for you before our fighter pilot gets here,” he gave Eshan a friendly ‘come here’ wave. The MPs nodded in unison to Bobby and headed back to the elevator. Eshan looked at Bobby, felt his lips tremble, hoping against hope that this strange mad scientist would return him to the van.
But Bobby slapped him on the back with an odd grin. “Have a safe flight, Mr. Wallace. Once you get settled in, contact me on the base’s communication equipment. I require a weekly check in and update. Failure to do so will earn you an extended stay.” Bobby turned to leave, scratched his head and then turned back to meet Eshan’s pitiful stare. “One last thing. There’s a diary packed in your bag. I want you to make a daily entry. It’s a little experiment I’m conducting to see how isolation affects our sentries.” With that, Bobby turned and lumbered off after the MPs waiting patiently by the elevator.
Eshan watched them disappear into the elevator. Once the
doors closed, he quietly stepped over the threshold onto the hatchway under Jerry’s watchful eyes. Jerry noticed the small, fluffy bundle Eshan was holding and smiled wider, “Well, hello there, beautiful! What’s your name?”
“Bobby said he named her, but he forgot to tell me what it was,” Eshan untucked the curious little kitten from under his arm and looked into her pale blue eyes. She meowed at him.
“You’ll have plenty of time to name her once we get you home. For now, there’s a kennel for her. It’ll keep her safe while I give you your orientation.” Jerry led him deeper into the transport ship and showed him a built-in storage space that had been converted into a holding cell for small animals.
“You get many animals on these trips?” Eshan asked as he gently placed the kitten in the hold and closed the door. She sat down and stared up at him, silently, her eyes pleading for escape as no doubt his had been as he'd watched Bobby leave.
“Yup. Doctor Bobby insists each sentry gets a pet. Come with me, we’ll start the grand tour with the cockpit.” Jerry chose a passageway to his right and started down it with Eshan in tow.
“Doctor Bobby?” Eshan asked.
“Yup. He’s a professor of psychiatry at the University of Alaska, Anchorage. He’s got some fancy-named grant from the space administration to study the effects of long-term isolation on convicts placed on the moon bases.” They entered a small, cramped pod filled with a large dashboard overflowing with lights, switches and computer screens. Above the busy dashboard was a clear canopy allowing the pilot and copilot a 180-degree view through the windshield in front of him. Eshan watched the ground crew scurrying between a large truck and the ship, carrying boxes and equipment of different sizes, then disappearing from his field of view as they passed below the cockpit. As quickly as they disappeared, they would reappear empty-handed walking back over to the truck parked off to the side. It reminded him of a line of ants he’d once seen in his backyard making quick work of a candy bar he’d dropped one hot, summer day when he was a small child. Long before overcrowding and strange aliens filled his world or death’s cold grasp touched his own life.
