Rule of Evidence

by John G. Hemry

  The Nelson's captain sounded as unruffled as ever. "I'm afraid that's quite impossible."

  "I notice you can receive my transmissions again."

  "What's that? Say again, please."

  Hayes closed his eyes briefly.

  "Three minutes remaining before collision between HMS Lord Nelson and SASAL warship Tamerlane becomes inevitable."

  Captain Hayes looked around the bridge. "I'd appreciate any suggestions anyone might have."

  The red collision point symbol on Paul's display had grown larger, now pulsing continuously, and the time markers had also become much bigger and impossible to miss or ignore as they spun down toward zero.

  "Two minutes remaining before collision between HMS Lord Nelson and SASAL warship Tamerlane becomes inevitable."

  Paul caught Lieutenant Sindh's eye. Sindh shook her head. Paul looked back at his display.

  "One minute re –"

  Paul had to double check, then spoke with exaggerated care, his voice sounding louder than usual on the silent bridge. "We have thruster firings and aspect change on the SASAL ship." No one answered, but all bent closer to their displays as if willing the other ship to move. "We have main drive firing on the SASAL ship." Paul glanced at the time marker. Ten seconds from the point at which collision would be inevitable. The projected path of the SASAL ship began curving upward with agonizing slowness. The Nelson, still unwilling to maneuver, held her course and speed even though she could've taken her own action to further lessen the chance of collision.

  The moment of closest point of approach came and went in a blur a tiny fraction of a second long. "How close were they?" Captain Hayes asked in a soft voice.

  Sindh studied her display before replying. "Our system estimates CPA at about 800 meters, Captain." Then, in an undertone only Paul could hear, she muttered, "There can't be a single pair of dry underwear on either one of those ships right now."

  Hayes shook his head. "Mad dogs and Englishmen." He punched his communications again. "HMS Lord Nelson, request the status of your maneuvering systems."

  "This is HMS Lord Nelson." Captain Vitali's reply sounded cheerful. "Our maneuvering systems are fully operational."

  Captain Hayes rubbed his forehead as he replied. "It appears your communications systems are fully functional again as well."

  "Why, yes, they are. Brilliant. HMS Lord Nelson is ready to proceed with the maneuvering exercise."

  "Do you anticipate any further system failures in the near future, Captain Vitali?"

  "Oh, no. Not at all. We're fully prepared for the next shed-yuled event."

  Paul glanced at Lieutenant Sindh. "'Shed-yuled'?"

  "Scheduled."

  Captain Hayes was watching the SASAL ship's track arching away from the combined formation. It would take it a long, long time to slow down, reverse course and cause them any more trouble even if the SASALs intended doing so. "Captain Vitali of HMS Lord Nelson, this is Captain Hayes of USS Michaelson. You owe me a drink."

  "You're a man after my own heart, captain. Your ship or mine? Oh, wait, I suppose it'll have to be my ship, won't it? You U.S. Navy types being dry and all."

  "I'm afraid so." Hayes laughed at Captain Vitali's reference to the US Navy not being allowed to serve alcohol onboard its ships except under exceptional circumstances. "All ships, this is the Exercise Movement Coordinator. We will restart the exercise time line as soon as all ships can resume relative starting positions. Request you advise me of estimated times until you can regain positions."

  Over the next few hours the five ships wrestled themselves back into starting positions. The SASAL ship didn't try returning, instead heading back toward the transit lane while the Michaelson filed a report that would be used to issue a diplomatic protest to the South Asian Alliance over reckless actions by its warship.

  By the time Paul's watch ended, the ships had managed to reform the huge pentagon and were preparing to form what the crew had begun referring to as the "flat football" formation. Over the next twenty-four hours they formed the "empty ball" as well as the "big O" and the "more or less line-ahead" formations. Paul was in Combat when the last formation was completed, and a ragged cheer went up from the watchstanders.

  The foreign ships took their separate departures, the Nelson's captain reminding Captain Hayes he had a drink waiting and inviting the rest of the Michaelson's officers as well, the Franco-German ship once again ignoring any messages sent in English, and the Russian ship demanding to know how well each of the ships had performed even though Hayes repeatedly assured them there'd been no evaluation or ranking process conducted.

  "Exercise completed," Captain Hayes announced to the Michaelson's crew. "Good job, everybody. You did yourselves and the U.S. Navy proud. Now, let's go home."

  That brought another cheer, even more enthusiastic.

  Chapter Three

  "Got a minute, Mr. Sinclair?"

  Paul looked up from his stateroom desk at Sheriff Sharpe. "What's up?"

  "One of your and my favorite sailors, sir." Sharpe extended a small medicinal sample package toward Paul.

  Paul took it and peered inside where a couple of objects resembling poppy seeds were floating in the container. "What is it?"

  "Joy-Buzz dots. Found inside the locker of one Seaman Fastow."

  "Joy-Buzz." Paul eyed the objects again with distaste. The drug wasn't physically dangerous to someone using it, but it seriously impaired judgment and was banned on ships as a result. "Just these two?"

  "Yes, sir. Request authorization to acquire Seaman Fastow's butt and run her down to sickbay for a drug test."

  "Permission granted. Let me know what the results are."

  Sharpe grinned. "Of course, sir."

  "There's a Captain's Mast scheduled for just before we get back to Franklin."

  "Yes, sir. I believe Ms. Fastow is going to participate in that little evolution."

  * * *

  Captain's Mast had its origins in ancient navies, where a ship's captain would render justice quite literally in front of the mast on the ship. Spaceships like the Michaelson had no actual masts, of course, but the non-judicial legal proceedings represented by Captain's Mast had been enshrined in the law governing military legal affairs known as the Uniform Code of Military Justice.

  Paul braced himself against one side of the compartment where Captain's Mast would be held. As the collateral duty legal officer, he was required to be present for every Captain's Mast. Floating next to him was Senior Chief Kowalski, the senior enlisted crewmember. Standing at the hatch was Master-at-Arms Sharpe. "Attention on deck!" Sharpe called out.

  Captain Hayes pulled himself into the compartment, nodded to Paul and the Senior Chief, then took up position near a podium fastened to the deck. He pulled out his data pad, placed it on the podium, called up the first case record, then gestured to Sharpe. "Let's go. First case."

  Sharpe leaned out into the passageway. "Seaman Fastow. Front and center."

  Fastow entered, her eyes darting about nervously. Sharpe pointed her to a position directly in front of the captain. Behind her came Chief Imari, who also nodded to Paul.

  Hayes read over the information on his data unit, then looked sharply at Fastow. "Seaman Fastow, you are charged with violating the Uniform Code of Military Justice Article 112a, Wrongful Possession of Controlled Substances." Hayes glanced at Sharpe. "What was it?"

  Sharpe cleared his throat. "Joy-Buzz dots, sir."

  The captain focused back on Fastow. "What do you have to say?"

  Fastow licked her lips before replying. "Captain, Sharpe there went rummaging through my locker—"

  "Seaman Fastow, Petty Officer Sharpe conducted a search of an area onboard this ship. Onboard my ship."

  "But, he didn't have any warrant—"

  "Mr. Sinclair?"

  Paul looked steadily at Fastow. "Lockers, desks and all other areas onboard the ship are government property, not personal areas. There's no right of privacy for them and no warrant is
required for them to be searched."

  Hayes narrowed his eyes at Fastow. "That's the law. Now, what about this stuff found in your locker?"

  Fastow's eyes looked to the side, then back at the captain. "Sir, I don't know how it got there."

  "You're claiming it's not yours?"

  "No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. It's not mine. I don't know how it got in my locker."

  Hayes glanced at Sharpe again. "Was a drug test run?"

  "Yes, sir." Sharpe couldn't hide a flash of disappointment. "Negative results."

  "Hmmm. How long does Joy-Buzz stay in the system?"

  "About seventy-two hours after use, sir."

  "I see." Hayes speared Fastow with a demanding look. "You claim those drugs weren't yours."

  "That's right, sir. They're just those little specks."

  "Where did they come from, then?"

  "I . . . I don't know, sir. Maybe when I was on liberty last somebody spilled some on my clothes."

  Hayes kept a hard look on Fastow but she didn't flinch. Finally, he looked over at Paul. "You're Seaman Fastow's division officer. What kind of sailor is she?"

  Paul kept his own face unyielding. "Marginal, Captain. Fastow requires a great deal of supervision."

  "Have you seen any signs of drug usage by her?"

  Paul thought, looking over at Chief Imari, who reluctantly shook her head. "Sir, I cannot say I have."

  Hayes nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on Fastow. "It seems I may have to give you the benefit of the doubt. But I don't want to, because your chief and your division officer both tell me you haven't been doing well. When things like this happen, Seaman Fastow, you want them to be telling me you're a good sailor. Otherwise, I'll be inclined to think you deserve to be hammered. Do you understand me?"

  "Uh, yes, sir."

  "Because of some doubt as to your guilt in this matter, I will go lightly this time. But if it happens again, and your performance remains bad, then I won't regard it as a coincidence, and I will nail you to that bulkhead. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Fifteen days restriction to the ship. Reduction in rate to seaman apprentice, suspended for six months." Hayes leveled a forefinger at Fastow. "Any more nonsense and you'll only be a seaman apprentice again for about two seconds, because I'll use that next Captain's Mast to bust you down to seaman recruit. Get your act together, Seaman Fastow."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Dismissed."

  Fastow saluted and left. Paul couldn't tell whether she was relieved or frightened, but he passed another nod to Chief Imari as she followed Fastow out of the compartment.

  Captain Hayes shook his head and then looked around the compartment. "I want a close eye kept on her."

  "Yes, sir," Paul and Sharpe answered together.

  "Who's next?"

  "Seaman Jacob, sir."

  Jacob pulled himself inside the compartment as his name was called. The lanky seaman had sweat droplets visible on his forehead as he stopped before the Captain and came to rigid attention. Lieutenant Kilgary and Chief Petty Officer Meyer came in as well, taking up positions along the bulkhead opposite Paul. Captain Hayes gave Jacob a long look before consulting his data pad. "Seaman Jacob, it says here you are charged with violations of the Uniform Code Article 86, Absent Without Official Leave, and Article 87, Missing Movement. What do you have to say?"

  Jacob licked his lips and took a deep breath before answering. "Sir, Captain, I, uh, yes, I didn't get back from leave on time. But it wasn't my fault, sir. No, sir. I never woulda done it on purpose."

  Hayes glanced at Lieutenant Kilgary and Chief Meyer, who were maintaining poker faces. "Then how did it happen, Seaman Jacob?"

  "Well, sir, it all started 'cause I took leave earthside to get married."

  "Then I guess congratulations are in order."

  "No, sir. No, I, uh, when I got back home, it turned out Justy was marryin' some other guy."

  "Justy?"

  "My girl, sir. Or at least she was my girl when I left for the Navy. I was pretty sure we had 'a understandin'."

  Hayes took another look around the compartment before focusing back on Jacob. "You knew she was getting married, but thought she was marrying you."

  "That's right, captain."

  "You got an invitation to this wedding?"

  "Yes, sir! But I guess since Justy and I had that understandin' I alluded to I just figured it must be our wedding and didn't read the thing too close."

  Paul managed to avoid smiling only by an heroic effort. Opposite him, Lieutenant Kilgary was clearly biting the inside of her cheek to avoid smiling herself.

  Captain Hayes looked down at his data pad for a moment, hiding his expression, then back up at Jacob. "You arrived at the wedding and found out it wasn't your wedding."

  "Yes, sir, Captain, and I got sorta ticked off, if you know what I mean. Justy and I had some words. But it wasn't nothin' violent. Not at first. No, sir. I didn't want to hurt anybody, just like I told the judge—"

  "The judge? What judge?"

  "The one what heard my case on the assault charges and he agreed with me that maybe me being in jail was a bit much—"

  "You were in jail?"

  "I said I'd been arrested, didn't I, Captain?" Hayes shook his head solemnly. "Oh. Well, yeah. I mean, yes, sir. And that Frank guy threw the first punch—"

  "Frank?"

  "He's the one what was marrying my girl, sir."

  "I see. I don't think she's 'your girl' anymore, Jacob."

  "Uh, I guess not, Captain."

  "So, you got into a fight."

  "Yes, sir. And I was winnin' 'til Justy kicked me in the ankle and that Frank swung some big punch bowl at my head and then I didn't know nothin' more 'til I woke up in the hospital—"

  "The hospital?"

  Paul couldn't prevent an involuntary spasm of his lips as he fought down a laugh. Lieutenant Kilgary and the two chiefs in the compartment faked brief coughing spells, while Captain Hayes somehow maintained a serious countenance.

  "Yes, sir. That's where the sheriff arrested me." Jacob jerked and glanced over toward Sharpe. "Not our sheriff, sir. The one back home."

  Hayes leaned forward, resting his arms on the podium even though the gesture was unnecessary in zero gravity. "So, after you went to someone else's wedding you thought was yours and got into a fight with the bride and groom and got sent to the hospital and got arrested and sent to jail, then you saw this judge."

  "Yes, sir." Jacob nodded quickly. "And the judge, he agreed that life had treated me pretty damn, uh, pardon me, sir, pretty darn unfair and that maybe I just oughta go back to my ship."

  "Well, Seaman Jacob, based on your story so far I have to admit I'd have been inclined to get you out of my town as soon as possible, too. So that's why you were late getting back from leave?"

  "No, sir."

  Paul clenched his teeth as hard as he could to stifle a laugh, even as he heard a strangled sound from Senior Chief Kowalski.

  Captain Hayes ducked his head again, then looked up sternly. "All of that didn't make you late getting back from leave?"

  "No, sir. Not directly, sir. You see, I'd taken enough leave for a little honeymoon, but now I didn't need that much time 'cause Justy and I wasn't goin' on a honeymoon." Jacob' face looked troubled. "Well, I guess Justy was."

  "But not with you."

  "No, sir. Not with me. Anyway, I cashed in my ticket back to base so I could pay my fine."

  "The judge fined you?"

  "Yes, Captain. I didn't mention that? He was gonna make it more money than that but when he found out that was all I had he was willing to settle for it as long as I left."

  Out of Jacob's sight, Sheriff Sharpe seemed to be fighting off convulsions. Captain Hayes nodded, his expression exaggeratedly intent. "How'd you get back to base, then, Jacob?"

  "That's what I been tryin' to explain, Captain! One o' Justy's cousins offered me a ride out of town, and damned, uh, darned if he didn't dump me in
the middle of nowhere. I started walkin', 'cause I didn't want to be late getting back, but this guy stopped to give me a ride. Then the cops started givin' me a hard time—"

  "Cops? What cops?"

  "The ones that stopped the guy givin' me the ride, sir. They found all this stuff in the back o' the car and started waving guns around and pushing me onto the ground and searching me all over and I gotta say, Captain, that Master-at-Arms Sharpe there he does searches just like that, too, sometimes and it ain't pleasant at all."