by Lia Black
Evan met him at the witness stand, squeezing his hand as Sean held the railing to sit down. “Can you please state your full name for the record?” Evan said, stepping back a to professional distance.
“S-Sean Alan Argeneau.” Sean’s tongue wanted to stick to the roof of his mouth. He nodded his appreciation as a bailiff brought him a glass of water.
“And your occupation?”
“I’m…I was a squad sergeant with the Federation’s Civilian Security Department.” Saying it out loud made it feel final.
“Is it true that you were also in the military?”
“Yeah, before I joined the CSD. I was a pilot.”
“Can you please tell the court why you left your career in the military?”
“I was a short-distance flier; jump gates made me sick. I was only good as a fighter pilot.”
“So you fought in the war.”
“Yeah.”
“A decorated soldier, am I right?”
“Yes.”
Evan paused a moment to let that sink in before he continued. “Thank you for your service in protecting the Federation.”
Sean shrugged, uncertain of where this was going. “I was just doing my job.”
“Tell me about your job at the CSD. How long were you there?”
“Over sixteen years.”
“And in that time I understand you were highly regarded by your peers and the community you served.”
“I-I guess.” Sean glanced at the judges, wondering if they had any more idea of what Evan was up to than he did. Did Sean sound that crazy that Evan planned on putting up his shrink last, to drive home the point?
“Please tell the court what happened on the morning of April third when you arrived at the east tower flight pad on the LunaMax facility.”
“Well, I arrived a little early; takeoff time was supposed to be zero-five-hundred.” Sean closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the sickly color of the artificial sunrise.
“You said ‘supposed to be’.” Evan emphasized the point.
“Yeah,” Sean blinked his eyes. “He was late—the pilot, Rodney Reeves.”
“Do you remember why he was late?”
“Said he had to replace a ‘bulb’ on the landing gear.”
“A bulb?” Evan glanced over his shoulder at the jury. “Don’t all spacecraft use laser diodes?”
“That one certainly did,” Sean answered.
“Can you tell us the rest of the story please?”
Sean nodded. He proceeded to repeat the story he’d told Evan earlier, pausing when Evan stopped him at the point when Rodney pulled his gun.
“So Officer Reeves threatened you with a weapon.”
“Yes.”
“What happened next?”
Sean sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. He felt like he’d been pushed down a hill in a barrel. “He tried to get me near the bunks so he could shoot me. I refused but got him to keep talking, waiting for the auto-pilot to re-engage.”
“He’d turned off the auto pilot?”
“Yes.”
“Is that common during prisoner transport?”
“No. It’s not standard protocol.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Rodney did most of the talking. Said someone wanted Mercury Fie. Said that Lyttel paid him to deliver Mercury and that I’d been chosen as co-pilot because of my jump-sickness.”
“Then what happened?”
Sean described everything; how he’d hit Rodney, how they’d lost gravity control after Rodney shot out the panel, and how Rodney had been trying to get his gun instead of strapping in when they started to spin.
“Do you know what happened to Officer Reeves after you came into Terra Huygen’s atmosphere?”
“No,” Sean shook his head, looking down at his hands as he folded them between his knees and leaned forward. “I assume he was knocked unconscious when we went into the spin. Everything that wasn’t tied down was hitting the walls, the ceiling, the floor.”
“You were able to bring the ship in. Did you see Officer Reeves when you landed?”
“I wouldn’t call it landing so much as crashing intact. No. I lost consciousness after unbuckling my restraints. I never saw him after that.”
Evan went into his briefcase and produced a folder wrapped in plastic. “Before the trial, Mr. Reeves’s body was exhumed and autopsied. I would like to submit this report into evidence. The cause of death was ruled to be blunt-force trauma to the head and a broken spine. Reeves had energy-weapon discharge on his fingers, which substantiates my client’s claim of being threatened.” He set the item up on the bench in front of the judges, then returned his attention to Sean. “I understand that the first person you saw upon regaining consciousness was Mercury Fie.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about that.”
Sean closed his eyes; his deaf ear was buzzing, making his head ache. “We were in the forest. I was tied up. Mercury…Mr. Fie…was wearing Reeves’s hat. It was covered with blood.”
“Do you think it was Reeves blood?”
Sean shook his head. “Don’t know. I don’t think so. He was also wearing some kind of uniform—armor.”
“Describe the armor.”
“It was whitish, with a blue logo like a sun. Sol Labs.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“Any idea why Sol Labs would make armor like that?”
“Yeah. Later, Mercury told me that he’d escaped from there…he was a product, and they wanted him back.”
“And you believe that’s who Rodney was referring to when he said ‘they’ wanted Mercury Fie?”
“Yes. That’s what I think that big space station was— I think it was Sol Labs.”
One of the judges interrupted. “Mr. Seaton, I don’t understand where this is going.”
“I’d like to recall Warden Lyttel to the stand now please,” Evan said. He nodded at Sean who rose unsteadily to his feet and made his way back to his chair behind the defendant’s table.
Sean looked over his shoulder, watching the warden approach the witness stand. He moved with more hesitation than he’d shown during his prior appearance and this time he didn’t meet Sean’s eyes.
“Warden Lyttel, welcome back,” Evan said. He had that expression he sometimes wore when he knew he was about to slice someone to pieces with words; the little hint of a smile, one eyebrow raised. Sean had always been in awe of Evan’s ability to reduce grown men to sniveling babies with only his voice.
Lyttel grunted something unintelligible as he sat stiffly in the witness chair.
“You’ve heard the testimony from Captain Roth and my client, yes?”
Lyttel grunted again and Evan leaned forward, turning his head. “I beg your pardon, I didn’t catch that?”
“I said yes.”
“Fine. Thank you.” Evan moved closer to the defendant’s table, resting against it. “Why, Warden Lyttel, did you specifically request my client accompany your pilot, even after learning of his condition?”
Lyttel’s jaw worked, but no sound came out.
Evan folded his arms. “All right. Let me ask you another question. LunaMax; that’s a corporate prison, right?”
“Yes,” Lyttel answered through gritted teeth.
“And just like any other corporation, the prison depends on profits to continue operating at maximum efficiency, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Someone like Mercury Fie, who required so much supervision, would have started eating into those profits, right?”
“Yes…your point?”
Evan tapped his chin, looking up at the ceiling. “How were your profits over the last two fiscal years? Weren’t you operating in the red?”
“Yes.”
“And Mercury Fie would have pulled that line down even farther.”
Evan’s statement was met by silence.
“You were probably happy to get rid of him so quickly. In
fact, I see that you were recently listed as an investor for Sol Labs.” Evan reached into his pocket and pulled out a narrow datapad, showing whatever was on it to Lyttel, whose lips drew together so tightly, they became just a slash across his face.
“You must have come into some money then somehow?” Evan asked.
The prosecutor stood up, though it seemed almost reluctant. “Your honors, I fail to see the logic in questioning this witness. Warden Lyttel is not on trial here.”
“No. He isn’t. But he should be, and he’s not the only one.” Evan stood upright and addressed the gallery. “Your honors, my esteemed colleague, members of the jury. My client did not murder Rodney Reeves. The defendant, Sean Argeneau, was set up, framed for a murder that was supposed to be his own. Rodney Reeves was the only man who fired a gun that day in the transport shuttle, and it had been in an attempt to murder the defendant. Any injuries consistent with an assault were the result of self-defense by my client,” Evan pointed to Sean. “Lyttel paid Reeves to transport Mercury Fie to Sol Labs in exchange for a large share of investments and certain technologies, which I am not yet at liberty to discuss. Lyttel specifically asked to have Sergeant Sean Argeneau co-pilot the transport that contained Mercury Fie because he knew that Sergeant Argeneau would be incapacitated for a period of time. Had my client not discovered the plan, Officer Reeves would be alive, but both my client and Mercury Fie would have gone missing. Lyttel saw an opportunity when the transport crashed, to fabricate this murder.”
Lyttel popped up, his face nearly purple as he was beginning to panic. “Why aren’t you objecting to this?” He yelled at the prosecutor.
She leaned forward on her arms, her hands resting on the table. “Because I’m not your lawyer, Mr. Lyttel. Though I suggest you find yourself a good one right away.”
“Counsels,” one of the judges said over the rising din of voices murmuring in the courtroom. “Please approach the bench.”
Sean watched Evan and the prosecutor head to the bench to speak to the judges for a few moments before both attorneys returned to their respective seats.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury.” One of the judges stood, her voice ringing clearly through the gallery, ceasing the discussions. “I must remind you the purpose of this trial is a vote of guilty or not guilty against Sean Argeneau for the murder of Rodney Reeves. That is the only question facing this court at this time. Please exit the courtroom through the door to your left and begin deliberations. You are directed not to speak to anyone regarding the proceedings of this case. You have one hour to come up with a decision. Everyone else is instructed to remain within the courtroom.”
Evan slumped down in his seat behind the defendant’s table, rubbing his temples as the jurors filed out and the judges disappeared through a door, heading to their chambers.
“Evan…” Sean began, but Evan started talking, a stream of words spilling from his mouth.
“The data Sean. My god…”
Sean remained silent, waiting for Evan to go on.
“Sol…Dr. Sol…he…he filmed everything. It’s something I wish I’d never seen, because I can’t unsee it…” Even let out a shuddering sigh. His courtroom persona had crumbled into a man hanging off a dark ledge. “Mercury. I don’t know how…I don’t want to know…but he had access to financial records, names of investors…every guest at that party where he was arrested were on that list.”
“He told me,” Sean said, his voice low. “I didn’t believe him at first, but it was too plausible to be fabricated. What did you see?”
Evan shook his head. “It was made when Mercury was maybe three years old.”
“He was in it?” Sean’s throat went tight when Evan nodded his head. “So what happens now?” Sean asked, needing to change the subject.
“Now we wait for the jury to come back with their decision and I speak with the prosecutor, Ms. Feinsted about going after Lyttel and Sol Labs. She’ll likely offer his attorney a plea bargain in return for him telling them what he knows about Sol.”
“That sounds dangerous…”
“More dangerous for Lyttel’s defense attorney, who sure as hell isn’t going to be me. I’m handing everything over to the Federation.”
Sean was glad to hear it. Not because he didn’t want Evan defending a scumbag like Lyttel, though that played a part. It was more that he worried about Evan risking his life any more than he all ready had.”
“I have to hand it to you, Sean. You never do anything half-way. When you get wrapped up in a conspiracy, it’s a big one.”
Sean sat in the front seat of the CSD cruiser, on his way to temporary lodgings for the night. In his hand was the envelope that Evan had given him as he left the courtroom. It felt slightly rough between his fingers, reminding him that it was still there.
The hotel where he was staying was one regularly used by the court. Even if he had been worried about Sol Labs coming after him, they would be fools to come here. The building had guards stationed at the doors and patrolling the hallways 24-7. Sean shook off his coat, laying it over a chair, then sat on the bed, the letter still in his hand. It felt strange to be alone in a place with soft carpeting and linens on the bed. He never realized how much he’d missed just being able to turn on or off a light, or open the curtains in his own room until he’d gone so long without them. He’d gone directly from the Virgero Spaceport to a nine-by-nine prison cell. He knew that once he closed his eyes, he would likely sleep for a week.
With a deep breath, Sean finally opened the envelope, his hands shaking so badly that it made the paper rustle as he pulled out the letter folded inside.
By the time Sean got to the end of the letter, the tears were flowing freely and he wasn’t certain if he wanted to laugh or cry. It was so typically Mercury, and Christ if he didn’t miss his crazy. Sean raised his arm up over his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. He let out a small laugh that ended with a sob. First thing—as soon as he got a hot shower and some sleep he had to get some things together, find a place nearby, and go spend time with Mercury.
38
Sean was acquitted of all charges against him. Mercury’s trial was put on hold indefinitely. The victory was bittersweet; Mercury was still not a free man, and there was no assumption made that he would ever wake up. The prosecutor drew the attention of the news media with her announcement that the Federation was beginning the process of filing charges against Sol Labs—pulling any reporters away from the old news of Sean’s trial. Working with special council, under protection of the Federation Military to make the case, the prosecutor was well-protected. If Sol so much as thought about trying to silence her, they would have a literal war on their hands. As a result of the formulas that had been recovered from Dr. Sol’s data, many federation races whose genetic materials went into Sol’s experiments and Mercury himself, also began the process of filing criminal charges against the corporation. As for Lyttel, he had been relieved of his post, ousted by a partner in the LunaMax corporation, and sent to a Federation-run facility.
Despite invitations from his family to let him stay with them, Sean had found himself an efficiency not far from the secure medical facility where Mercury was being housed. Here, Sean could be left alone. The landlord never came by unless someone was late on rent. Staying with family would not only have put them out, but they would be monitoring him. He wasn’t broken, the only anxiety he had was his concern for Mercury’s well-being.
The first time he’d gone to see him, it was almost too much. Seeing Mercury in a hospital bed, run through with tubes and looking small and fragile was a shock. Sean had leaned close, his eyes burning from the antiseptic-soaked bandages on Mercury’s head, and whispered: “Your father is dead. Make a new destiny.” It was a pointless thing to say, and Sean had felt strange for saying it, but on the off chance that Mercury could hear him, Sean wanted him to know where things stood.
“Mr. Argeneau,” Sean was greeted by the usual day staff as he signed into the hospital registry. He�
��d been coming here every day for five weeks now. Some of the female staff and two of the male doctors had been fairly overt in trying to figure out his relationship status. He pretended he didn’t know what they were doing, ignoring their lack of subtlety, but was somewhat flattered that people were still finding him attractive. Unfortunately, the only one that mattered was the one who probably didn’t even know he was there. Despite everything, including Mercury’s coma, Sean felt himself falling deeper into a sense of responsibility. Bonding with him as he spent hours in silent vigil; looking for a sign that Mercury knew he was there, and wanted to come back. Every morning he arrived hopeful, and every night he left feeling a sense of crushing despair. It was like the beginning and end of his relationship with Evan compressed into ten hours, every single day.
“Flowers again,” the female officer assigned to Mercury’s room said with a smile as she examined the bouquet for contraband and handed it back. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
Maybe it was all part of Sean’s new level of crazy. Mercury’s room was always full of fresh flowers. Since the day he’d first come by and seen the sterile, white walls and bars on the frosted composite windows, he was determined to make it a place that Mercury wouldn’t mind waking up in. It had become some kind of a fairytale garden, with sleeping beauty at its center.
“Morning, Merc,” Sean said after the door had been locked behind him. He leaned over and pressed a dry kiss to Mercury’s cool temple, reminding himself that Mercury’s skin was always colder—that it wasn’t the temperature of death. He replaced one set of faded blossoms in the vase with the fresh flowers and set them on the nightstand before taking up his usual spot in the chair near Mercury’s bed. He scooted the chair closer, the sound of the metal legs scuffing across the tiled floor set his teeth on edge, Still, it was better than the rhythmic hiss of the respirator and the small ticks and beeps as the different machines keeping Mercury alive tallied their results.
Evan was sitting across from him, stirring cream and sugar into his coffee. He’d asked Sean to meet him here, at a little cafe that resembled one they used to frequent when dating. He wondered if Evan had done it purposefully.
