"If she needs me to reassure her, then why'd she push me away?" Paul felt his anger rising again at the memory. "I wanted to help and she practically kicked me out the door."
"Jen isn't the sort to ask for help, even when being subjected to the kind of test she's now enduring."
Paul shook his head, looking down at the patterns in the floor. "So she treats me like hell and I'm supposed to ignore it? How can I retain my own self-respect if I let her rip me up? Okay, she's being tested, but if she reacts to it by attacking me, what am I supposed to think?"
"Perhaps, Mr. Sinclair, you should think about the possibility that Jen's not the only one being tested."
Paul stared at the swirls in a small patch of the floor. Is it also about me? Isn't that self-centered to even think? No. It's the opposite. It's about whether I'm good enough for her, whether I really believe in Jen, whether I'll really stick with her for better or worse. Even when she's being a psycho-bitch from hell for reasons beyond her control. His anger faded and he looked up, meeting Commander Sykes' eyes. "You're right. If I don't stick with Jen, I'll be fulfilling her worst fears. I can't let that happen." If I did . . . I'd never deserve anything good in my life again. What'd my dad say? 'Not if you were worth a damn.' He was right, too.
Sykes waited until he knew Paul was listening again. "I think it's safe to say that right now Jen is believing she doesn't deserve you because of her own faults. Real and imagined. If you go away, it proves she's right about that, doesn't it?"
"Then for once I'm going to prove her wrong and refuse to let her say otherwise."
Sykes smiled. "Good lad. Mind you, if you end up marrying her this may be the last time you get to do that."
"If only I could answer her question, Suppo. Why? Why is this happening to Jen?"
"If we knew the answer to that, I suspect we'd also know how and why the deaths on the Maury actually occurred."
"You think the people trying Jen know the real truth?"
Sykes pursed his lips, then took another drink. "Do you believe the people trying Jen would be doing so if they knew she wasn't guilty?"
"No." He thought of Captain Carney. "Oh, some of them. But not all of them. Not even close."
"I'm afraid that may rule out a grand conspiracy. And I confess to having no other ideas, myself."
Paul nodded. "I can't fault you for that. No one's been able to come with other ideas, even Jen and her lawyer. Small wonder she's feeling despair. I just didn't . . . what am I going to do when you're gone, Suppo? I'm going to miss you."
"Nonsense. Once free of my critical oversight you young officers shall doubtless frolic in wild abandon."
"After the outstanding example you've provided us of minimizing movement during the day? I don't think so."
"Hmmm." Sykes gave Paul an arch look. "I'm not sure that's a compliment. But I'll nonetheless offer you some bonus advice. If you want Jen to feel supported, then support from someone she respects as a professional but thinks personally dislikes her would mean much, I think."
Paul frowned. "Who do you mean?"
Sykes took another drink and smiled. "She Who Must Be Obeyed."
"Commander Herdez?"
"Exactly."
"Does she know you call her that?" Paul asked, laughing despite everything.
"Let's say she tolerates the occasional use of the phrase. From me. I wouldn't recommend it for use by, say, lieutenants junior grade."
"Suppo, I'm not an ensign, anymore. I wouldn't do something that stupid."
Sykes smiled again. "Young Mr. Sinclair, I have seen admirals do things which could be characterized as 'that stupid.' Go see Commander Herdez, first thing in the morning."
"Tomorrow's Saturday. They're going ahead with the court-martial but it's not a normal working day."
"Not for most, but as you're aware Commander Herdez is not normal. You know she'll be in her office, and she'll be there early. Tell her of your worries and see how she responds."
"Yes, sir." Paul paused. "How much does she already know about all this, Suppo?"
"Already know? About what everyone else knows, I suppose."
"She's not getting any inside information?"
Sykes managed to look puzzled. "Inside information? From whom?"
"I can't imagine."
* * *
Colleen Kilgary intercepted Paul on his way to his stateroom. "Sorry I hadn't got back to you on that SEERS documentation, Paul."
Paul took in Colleen's haggard appearance and tried to smile reassuringly. "That's okay. It's not like you don't have a lot of other things to do."
"Yeah, but I know how important this is." She made a frustrated gesture. "I've been over it. A lot of it, anyway. I can't find anything concrete in all that garbage about significant problems with SEERS." Colleen stopped to yawn mightily. "Sorry. Anyhow, I did get this vague feeling something's missing."
Paul felt a surge of interest. "Really?"
"It's just vague. There's nothing solid there. Everything looks good. It's just this feeling that there ought to've been more problems with the thing. But it looks like SEERS hit its developmental time line in all the right ways. That's unusual, but not impossible."
Paul nodded to cover up his disappointment. "Nothing's really missing then, that you can tell."
Another extended yawn. "Nope. It's just a feeling that there ought to be some more problems documented on such a big project. You know, engineers have got to be skeptical. But Jen herself said they hadn't run into major problems with SEERS on the Maury, right?"
"But, missing . . ." Paul knew he was grasping at straws. "Could there be something that's being kept from Jen's defense?"
"By who?" Colleen frowned. "Or is it whom? I can never get that straight. Look at the people bringing the case against Jen. I've met Admiral Hidalgo a number of times. He's a bit pompous and certain that he knows everything there is to know, but why would he cover up problems with SEERS? Leaving out any human or professional considerations, it wouldn't help Hidalgo's career any if the engineering plants he was responsible for started blowing up right and left. Or Admiral Silver. Maybe he doesn't like you, and maybe his leadership style makes Stalin look like Santa Clause, but deliberately letting something into the fleet that'll tear apart ships?"
Paul nodded again, his head sagging. "I wish I could argue that point, but as far as I know you're right. They wouldn't do this if they had any indications SEERS was dangerous."
"And what you had sure seemed like everything on SEERS."
"The prosecution swears it is, and I honestly don't believe the trial counsel would lie about that."
Colleen spread her hands helplessly. "Then it couldn't have been an accident. That's my professional judgment."
"Damn."
"Paul, I'd lie if I thought it would help Jen. But even a lie has to have credibility. It has to match what people expect. I'm really, really sorry."
"Thanks, Colleen. You've done an awful lot, and I really appreciate it, and I'm sure Jen does, too." Even though if she saw you right now she'd probably try to tear your head off like she did with me.
Colleen's small answering smile looked as forced as it certainly was. She staggered off to her own stateroom. Paul reached his, grateful his roommates were either absent or already asleep, and pulled himself up into his bunk. His dreams were full of mazes, all ending in blank walls.
Chapter Twelve
"Ma'am, I need your help." Paul glanced at the time. Zero Seven Hundred. Three hours left before the court-martial resumed. As Sykes had predicted, Paul had found Herdez in her office.
Commander Herdez kept her own expression noncommittal. "What about, Mr. Sinclair?"
Paul licked his lips, aware he looked as nervous as he felt. Commander Herdez' office ashore looked much as her stateroom on the Michaelson had. A few personal mementoes, reminders of her earlier duty assignments, but otherwise sparse and professional. "Ms. Shen, ma'am."
Herdez let regret show. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sinclair."
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"You know she couldn't have done it."
"Yes. I was, in fact, approached as a possible member of the court because of my experience on a ship similar to the Maury, but informed my superiors I could not render impartial judgment in the matter."
That alone would surprise Jen. She's sure Herdez has been gunning for her from the first minute they met.
"But," Herdez continued, "I'm afraid I know of no concrete information which would exonerate Ms. Shen. I cannot help with that."
"That's not what I'm asking for, ma'am. Lieutenant Shen is . . ." Paul struggled for the right words. "She's feeling abandoned." And she'd scream bloody murder if she knew I'd told you that.
"Not by you, surely."
"No, ma'am. I'm there as much as I possibly can be. But that doesn't seem to help her enough."
"That's understandable, Mr. Sinclair." Commander Herdez seemed slightly amused by Paul's reaction to her words, then sobered. "Your support is a given. It's assumed. Thus it means less to Ms. Shen than it probably should." She fell silent for a moment. "Just as sometimes my own support to Navy is assumed."
Paul eyed her with amazement. It was the only time he'd heard anything approaching criticism of the Navy from Herdez. "Jen— I mean, Lieutenant Shen, needs more than I can give, ma'am. But she knows how professional you are. She really respects your judgment, even though . . . uh . . ."
"Even though Ms. Shen believes I hold her in low regard as an officer and as an individual?" Herdez asked dryly. "Yes. I'm aware of that. You want me to express support for her?"
"Yes, ma'am. Just a message would mean so much, I think."
"It will be more than a message, Mr. Sinclair. Whatever the cause of the Maury's incident, my professional and personal judgment tells me Ms. Shen could not have been responsible. For whatever it is worth, I will ensure she knows that."
"Thank you, ma'am. Thank you." Paul made to rise, but Herdez waved him back to his seat.
"How are you doing on the Michaelson, Mr. Sinclair?"
As if you didn't know. I bet Commander Sykes sends you daily updates. "Pretty good, ma'am. There's still a great deal to learn, but I'm getting there."
"No Open Space Warfare Officer pin as of yet, though."
Paul hoped he wasn't flushing with embarrassment. "Not yet, ma'am. Within the next few months though, I think."
"Good. It still appears I will receive my own command when I leave this assignment. New construction perhaps. Would you be interested in serving on her?"
Oh, wow. New construction. A bright, shiny new ship with all the latest stuff on it. But— "When would that be, ma'am?"
"About a year and a half."
"I should be on shore duty, then, ma'am. In the middle of my tour of duty."
"It could be truncated, Mr. Sinclair."
Yeah. It could be. Instead of having some nice shore job for a couple of years I could go back to spaceship duty early. No way. But Herdez is asking me. What a compliment. Especially from an officer like her. What would Jen say? She'd be real unhappy. Wouldn't she? We don't know where we'll be serving next. Maybe it wouldn't matter, if one of us was stationed on Persephone and the other had duty on one of the submerged coastal platforms. Then we'd be separated a lot worse than if I was on ship duty again. I don't know. How can I know now?
Herdez nodded as if Paul had said something out loud. "I understand, Mr. Sinclair. It's hard to make a commitment at this point in time. Please keep it in mind, however. When does the court-martial convene?"
"Ten hundred, ma'am."
"Ten hundred?" Herdez let some exasperation show. By ten hundred, Paul knew, she expected anyone to have put in half a day's work already. Even if it was a Saturday. "Pleasant working hours, indeed. I'm sure I can arrange something for Ms. Shen prior to that late hour of the day."
Paul rose again at the implied dismissal. "Thank you, ma'am."
From Herdez's office in the fleet staff complex, Paul moved as fast as he reasonably could to reach the courtroom. He was very early, of course, but preferred that to sitting somewhere else alone with his worries and fears.
Lieutenant Bashir arrived well after Paul but still fairly early. "Can't chat, Mr. Sinclair. I've got some preps."
"I understand. A lot of witnesses, I hope."
Bashir glanced at Paul. "Not exactly." Then he bent to his work, leaving Paul to ponder what Bashir's words might mean.
The room gradually filled. The ranks of high-level spectators seemed much thinner this morning. Paul looked around, not seeing nearly the same number of admirals and captains. They've already seen what they wanted to see, the evidence against Jen. They're not interested in whatever she says in her defense. No. That's not entirely fair. The one's who're here are obviously interested, and I don't know how many yesterday were drawn by the chance to see and hear Captain Halis.
A pause in sound told Paul that Jen had arrived. Once again she came up the aisle, her master-at-arms escorts moving in tandem. As she reached the front of the court-room she saw Paul and he actually saw her stumble slightly in reaction. Then she had moved on to stand at the defense table.
Jen and Bashir conferred quietly for several minutes. Then she turned so she could just see Paul out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't think you'd be here," she murmured so softly he barely heard it.
He tried to answer at the same volume but still give his reply force. "I'll always be here, Jen."
Jen's jaw quivered, but she just nodded. Then someone came to stand at the seat next to Paul's and Jen's face went rigid again. He looked over, seeing Commander Herdez, who was gazing steadily at Jen. Herdez inclined her head slightly toward Jen in greeting, then sat with calm deliberation in the seat next to Paul, publicly and unmistakably placing herself in support of Lieutenant Shen.
"Ms. Shen," she murmured. "Do your best today. Your best is exceptional."
Jen's fixed expression altered a bit as she stared back at Herdez. Paul could see disbelief there. He spoke just loudly enough for Commander Herdez to hear. "Thank you, ma'am."
Herdez acknowledged his words with a small gesture.
Then the bailiff was at the front of the courtroom again, eyeing the spectators. She repeated her instructions for the benefit of those who might not have heard them the day before, then went to notify the judge. "All rise."
McMasters took a moment to look at the defense table, his expression impossible for Paul to read, then he gestured to Lieutenant Bashir. "Proceed."
"The defense calls as its first witness Lieutenant Harold Falco, United States Navy."
Paul watched Falco stride to the witness stand. Despite his relatively junior rank, he carried enough age on him to make it obvious he must have had extensive enlisted service before being commissioned. Falco sat and stared out across the court-room, his manner almost defiant.
Lieutenant Bashir approached the witness. "Lieutenant Falco. What is your current duty assignment?"
Falco shifted his seat as he answered. "Assistant Plans Supervisor, Franklin Naval Shipyard."
"What does that job entail?"
Lieutenant Falco shrugged. "A lot of things. But they all have to do with making sure jobs in the shipyard are well-planned and well-executed."
"Jobs on U.S. Navy ships, you mean?"
"Usually, yes."
"Are you familiar with the contents of the investigation into the damage suffered by the USS Maury on 21 February of this year?"
"Yeah." Falco nodded brusquely. "That's required reading, in my line of work."
Bashir turned to face toward the members of the court-martial. "Before I go any further, Lieutenant Falco, would you describe your experience in the field of engineering?"
"Certainly. I enlisted as a space systems machinist mate. Served on one research platform and on the Carpenter. When I reached petty officer second class the Navy wanted fewer machinist mates and more space system electricians, so I passed all the tests and switched rates. Worked on system upgrades for the Glenn, the Carpenter, the Grissom
and a lot of other old ships. Then Admiral Genghis Conner Michaelson asked for me to help set up Franklin. I was a chief petty officer by then. A couple years later I applied for a commission. Since then I've served on the Mahan and in the shipyard. Two back-to-back tours in the shipyard, actually, because they asked me to stay."
Paul tried not to look impressed. The resume Falco had recited covered much of the actual engineering involved in the history of the U.S. naval space effort. He couldn't tell if the members of the court were also impressed, as all maintained poker faces.
Lieutenant Bashir nodded to acknowledge Falco's words. "Thank you. Now, as an extremely experienced engineer, do you agree with the conclusions of the investigation into the damage suffered by the USS Maury on 21 February?"
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