Kris Longknife: Furious

by Mike Shepherd

  “The bailiff will accept them,” the Chief Justice said.

  Tsusumu turned back to his witness. “Petty Officer Ishii, could you tell the court where you have been since returning to Musashi?”

  “I was terribly embarrassed when I returned. The Navy had no assignment for me, so I returned to my parents’ home. Being with child and not with a husband, I was ashamed and spent my days in my room.”

  Kris strongly suspected thoughts of suicide must have kept her company. Poor girl.

  “Then why have you now come forward?” Tsusumu asked.

  “Last night, my brother brought me his computer and showed me all of the horrible things that were being said about Admiral Kota and Princess Kristine. I watched her testimony this morning and knew that I had to act for the admiral’s and the princess’s good names.”

  “How could you act? You are just a junior petty officer.”

  “But I was on duty in Haruna’s communication center when the admirals met on net to discuss the situation. Our watch officer ran the conference on a large screen for all of us to see. He often did that. It was he who realized, I think just as quickly as Princess Kris, that the different reports from the returning scouts pointed all to the same thing. He called the admiral’s bridge to alert them. We all watched, as much as our duties allowed, as the battle plan was developed.”

  “So if you watched the recordings of the War Council that we have, you could verify if they are a true-and-accurate account of the meeting?”

  “I can do better than that, sir.”

  “How so?”

  “Before going on watch that evening, I had taken my future husband aside and told him I carried his child. He was overjoyed. A few days later, as the fleet prepared to sail for battle, Admiral Kota informed us that the princess had arranged for any Sailor who wanted a ride back to human space to go with the freighters. Of course, no one on Haruna would think of abandoning their post at such a moment. However, my future husband insisted that I and the baby must return home. He said that they would all very likely die in the coming battle and that he wanted his child to have a chance to grow up. He said it was my duty.”

  “So you chose to return.”

  Now the young woman studied her hands. “No, sir. I did not want to obey my future husband. I talked with my watch mates, the women who would have to do extra duty if I left. I told them I did not want to obey my future husband. They told me I was being selfish. That my child deserved a chance to be born. They insisted that they could do my work. ‘It is the Navy way always to have more hands than are needed to do the job,’ they said. Only then did I apply for release and was granted it. Admiral Kota himself signed my papers.”

  Mr. Kawaguchi frowned. “I am sorry, but I do not see where this is going.”

  “My watch officer insisted that I carry two files back with me. He said the admiral was sending a report through channels, but he feared that the report would not arrive where it was supposed to go. My watch officer entrusted me with two copies of the admiral’s report.” And the young woman produced an envelope, still sealed.

  “My watch officer told me that Admiral Kota’s report included a copy of the Council of War. He had copied it himself to the file.”

  “Your Honor,” from Mr. Kawaguchi was interrupted by “Objection,” from the prosecution. “We have no idea where these files have been or what might have been added to them.”

  “We have five copies from different perspectives on that War Council,” said Mr. Kawaguchi. “We have a sealed envelope to examine. If these two files are the same, it seems to me that we are developing a trend, Your Honor.”

  “Bailiff, accept the sealed envelope into evidence under objection.”

  “If it pleases the court,” came from the gallery. Kris turned to see Captain Miyoshi of Mutsu standing. “The honor of the Navy is very much carried by the content of those devices.”

  “The honor of the court is as well,” the Chief Justice said darkly.

  “I do not question all the honor those devices bear, Your Honor, I just wish to make sure that the Navy’s honor is respected. If it please the court, I would like to assign a Marine officer to escort those devices.”

  “I believe the court can allow that.”

  “Lieutenant Suganami.”

  “Hai,” said a first lieutenant who came from among the Marines guarding the door to stand beside his captain.

  “Is there a technician who can assure the proper treatment of those devices in your guard detail?”

  “Hai.”

  “You and he will accompany the bailiff and bear the responsibility for the Navy’s honor.” The technician turned out to be a she, but the two of them quickly moved to join the bailiff and move off with him smartly.

  “Are you out of surprises, Tsusumu-san?” the Chief Justice asked.

  “I believe so, Your Honor.”

  “Very good. Mr. Prosecutor, the witness is yours to cross-examine.”

  The prosecutor stood, studied his notes for a moment, then snapped. “Who is the father of your unborn child? Remember, you are under oath. The court can order a paternity test to see if you are truthful.”

  Kris had heard of attacking a witness, but this approach seemed not only unnecessary but brutal as well.

  The young woman surprised Kris with the strength of her reply.

  “My future husband was Lieutenant Fujioka Tomio, my watch officer.”

  The prosecutor was about to open his mouth, but from the back of the court there was a cry, whether of joy or sorrow or both, Kris could not tell, but an old woman rose to her feet.

  Living in Fujioka House, Kris had seen portraits of the dead owner and his wife. They did not do Mrs. Fujioka justice. The woman in the flesh was both soft and hard, like velvet-covered marble. She looked at the witness as the witness broke into tears. “My daughter,” was all she said, as those between her and the aisle made way for her.

  “Have you any further questions?” the Chief Justice asked the prosecutor.

  “No, Your Honor,” he wisely answered.

  The young mother-to-be was dismissed in time to meet the grandmother of her unborn child at the gate to the formal court area.

  “Now, do you have any more surprises, Tsusumu-san?” the Chief Justice asked.

  “That was not my surprise, Your Honor, but yes, the defense rests.”

  The gavel came down. “Court is recessed until nine o’clock tomorrow morning when we will hear final arguments.”

  And the courtroom became bedlam as people talked, and reporters hurried out, phones already being talked into, to make their deadlines. Tiny Mrs. Fujioka and her newfound daughter might have been trampled in the haste, but Captain Miyoshi personally led a Marine detachment in forming a wall around the two women and slowly walked them from the room.

  Kris was in no hurry, so she waited with her friends and her defense team as calm slowly returned to an emptying room.

  “Are all your trials so, ah, surprising?” Kris asked.

  “Each trial is unique, but I am always happy to pull a few rabbits out of my hat,” Tsusumu admitted with a smile.

  “Do you need any further help from me?” Kris asked.

  “No, I think I can compose my closing arguments without any further input from you and yours.”

  “Cara and I need an ice-cream sundae, and, no doubt, Jack would like a beer.”

  “I suggest you get them at Fujioka House. I strongly suspect every newsie on the planet can hardly wait to shove a mike in your mouth.”

  Kris’s Marine guard now arrived to surround her. They rode the elevator down to the subbasement, where her caravan awaited.

  Fortunately for Cara and Jack, the kitchen at Fujioka House was quite prepared to support their celebration.

  Better, Kris and Jack were left the privacy of the sitting room for themselves alone. They both knew their privacy was insecure, and there were limits beyond which they dare not go, but still, holding and being held, sharing and
being shared with, they made a moment that held the fears and terrors around them at a distance.

  At least for a few hours.

  55

  The prosecution led off the next morning. His statement seemed much shorter. Gone were the hints at Kris’s sexual seduction of the admirals. The list of things Kris had done wrong was also a lot shorter. No longer was there a plea for the poor Sailors and Marines who were dragged against their will into a battle of annihilation.

  The only leg the prosecution seemed left to stand on was that Kris had initiated hostile actions against the aliens without authorization and without making contact with them.

  Even Kris couldn’t argue with that.

  But then, she’d been more out of contact with her superiors than any ship’s captain had been since the invention of the wireless radio transmitter. Kris was left hoping at least a few of the judges would remember why ship captains had once been viewed as near gods in their independent commands.

  She could hope.

  Mr. Kawaguchi was magnificent in his closing argument. All the things Kris wanted highlighted were boldly stated for all to hear. Now he played for the court Admiral Kota’s “Banzai!” as he agreed to Kris’s battle plan. He even showed the court highlights of the admiral’s vanished report. Kota had made quite an impassioned plea to his Emperor for support for the course of action he was leading his ships into. There was hardly a dry eye in the court as the admiral himself posthumously made his case for placing his ships between the heavily populated planet and the space raiders bearing down on them.

  Tsusumu was wise enough to let the admiral’s final words make the case for Kris and silently bowed to the court as the recording ended.

  Even the Chief Judge seemed overcome by the silence. It took him a few moments to realize the ball was back in his court. He coughed, banged his gavel, and announced the court was adjourned until further notice.

  Kris rose and waited for the nine judges to file out of the court. Several of them were already in animated discussion. She turned to her lawyer.

  “Now what?”

  Tsusumu shrugged. “If they’re back here in fifteen minutes, you better order that white kimono. The fix was in, and we just didn’t know it. If it takes longer, your chances are better. Sit down. We can wait a while.”

  Thirty minutes later, Tsusumu stood up. “I think a couple of beers are in order, and some ice-cream sundaes for you and your young friend.”

  With that, they adjourned to Fujioka House. The cook insisted the celebration be in the formal dining room since all the defense team was there, along with Kris’s team, and even Gunny Brown. Kris learned more about the political and legal situation on Musashi than she ever wanted to know, and the legal staff learned more about combat on land and among the stars than any of them cared for.

  They ended up making quite a night of it. In the end, Kris found herself too tired to give Jack more than a warm hug and a lingering kiss before going off to the south wing and sending him on his way to the northern one.

  The next day taught Kris that there was something as bad as waiting out the final moments for a battle to start.

  Waiting for a verdict for a capital crime to be returned was just as nerve-racking, only with a whole lot of boredom thrown in.

  Kris would have preferred to spend the time in bed with Jack, but instead she resorted to playing one of Cara’s computer games. It did not go well. The game was one that required lightning eye-hand coordination and motor skills. Cara clobbered Kris time after time. The final game ended with Kris’s winning, but she had resorted to using Nelly and the direct connection to her brain.

  Cara considered that cheating and went off in a huff, despite Abby’s pointing out that the young girl had won on her own and forced Kris to use everything modern technology provided.

  Kris was left wondering how she’d gotten so old and slow so fast.

  Desperate for some distraction, she and Jack went for a walk, under the watchful eyes of the Marines. Jack pointed out a van located on the street with a high-power listening device on its roof and how the thing followed them.

  At first Kris kept their conversation inane, then the Billy Longknife in her took over and she treated the listeners to a long defense of her actions in the battle for which she was presently on trial.

  WE’LL SEE IF THAT SHOWS UP ON TONIGHT’S NEWS, she told Jack on Nelly net.

  The walk did. Her defense didn’t.

  They adjourned to lunch.

  Kris passed on the offer of another ice-cream sundae; she had nothing to celebrate and enough to worry about without adding a threat to her waistline.

  At the suggestion of the cook, Kris visited the zen rock garden in a hollow behind the house. Jack joined her, sitting silently on a stone bench. Kris let her eyes wander over the raked sand, following the furrows as they circled rocks or tiny shrubs. It seemed to calm her.

  Then she remembered how she and Eddy had walked the spiraling black-and-white tiles of Nuu House. She tasted again the loss of her little brother but found that years had finally turned the deep cut in her heart into a bearable scar.

  Or maybe she had too many new cuts. So many more deaths that she had survived to feel guilty for.

  “Maybe meeting the headsman would be a relief,” she thought, and only realized she’d said it out loud when Jack squeezed her hand.

  “It would be a pain beyond bearing for me,” he said.

  “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “I suspected as much, but you did, and I meant what I said.”

  Kris leaned against his strong shoulder. “I know you do.”

  “So many fought and died for you . . . and me,” Jack said. “We can’t pay them back with a cheap death. When we finally go into that light, we owe them to do it for something worth all they’ve given up for us.”

  Kris found herself considering that . . . and was at a loss. “You think there’s something big enough that we could die for?”

  “I’ve seen those bastards’ mother ships, just like you have. You know they’re in our future. You know it, and unlike some fools who must know it, too, you know that we’ll be facing them much sooner rather than later.”

  Jack turned to face her. “All this theater, this legal crap, is swallowing up our time, but it isn’t what we’re about. Not you and not me. Other people can fill the hours of their days with empty roaring and thunder, but you and I, we control the lightning. We burn what needs burning.”

  He paused for a moment before going on. “I don’t know what’s roiling your gut, but what I saw in the last few days was you demolishing a lot of tired old men who more than likely wished they’d been there. That they’d been given the chance to die with half as much riding on it as Admiral Kota’s death. You have to feel sorry for the likes of them. They spent their entire life training and preparing for something that never came. Then along comes a kid like you, and you get it all, in big helpings.”

  “I’d gladly have shared,” Kris said dryly.

  “You and me both,” Jack said with a chuckle.

  “But why are they attacking me? Why aren’t they shouting from the housetops that we need to get ready for what’s to come?”

  “Do you look forward to the next time you have one of those monsters in your crosshairs?”

  Kris shivered and took several breaths before she ventured an answer. “Nope, not at all. Never seeing one of those monsters again would be a nice rest of my life,” she admitted to Jack and the carefully raked sand, and maybe to a few of the rocks that stood up so proudly.

  “You and me both, kiddo. But we both know there’s no chance of that.”

  “Who says? I’m a commander without a ship. I’ve got everyone mad at me. I don’t have two pennies to rub together. Maybe . . .”

  “You’re a Longknife,” Jack said, more as a sigh. “Trouble finds you, and you, inevitably, bat it out of the park. You can’t do anything else. Trust me on that.”

  Kris nuzzled her head in
to the hollow of Jack’s neck. “I’d trust you on anything.”

  “You feeling better?”

  “I’m feeling less inclined to desire that headsman’s ax, and yes, I’m willing to say I did a very good job yesterday. Assuming the verdict wasn’t mailed in by the powers that be, I expect I’ll have to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.”

  “Good, cause this rock is cold, and my bottom has taken about all of it I can stand.”

  They headed back to the house.

  “Kris, Abby wants to see you,” Nelly announced.

  “About what?”

  “She told me not to tell you.”

  “Has the verdict come in?”

  “No, not that, but something else. Something nice.”

  “I could use some nice in my life,” Kris said.

  She and Jack started jogging back.

  56

  Kris found Abby in the library huddled over a secure console.

  “Mrs. Fujioka uses this station for her financial affairs. You can trust that what comes in here does not end up on the early news,” Abby said.

  “And I have financial affairs?”

  “It seems you do.”

  “Did Grampa Al relent and let me back at my trust?”

  “Sorry, baby ducks, blood ain’t nowhere close to as thick as gold. But, do you remember that bank you established on Texarkana? It might have escaped your attention, seeing how a bomb dropped in right after you closed the deal.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Kris said dimly. The bomb had kind of erased a lot of her memories of that day, but Nelly had reported the bank properly chartered and funded before all hell broke loose.

  “Well, they just declared their first dividend, Your Troublesomeness, and you ain’t broke no more.”

  “I don’t want a dividend. They need to reinvest their money. They need it more than I do.”

  “Somehow I doubt that,” Jack muttered at Kris’s elbow as he eyed the transfer. Kris was eyeing, too. There were a lot of zeros after that one. And two commas.