Regan's Reach 2: Orbital Envy

by Mark G Brewer

  Marin stopped pacing, the implication hitting home. "How fast can this thing really go Ham?"

  "Not sure, we halved the trip time coming here, what are you thinking?"

  "We've got to go back, we go hard and fast and we do it now."

  "What about Sindali?"

  "She's safe in Tihan, you said it yourself."

  "Just checking, we are already at Warp by the way, I knew we'd get to this point eventually. And I've made an executive decision; we're taking two lines to get there, not three. It reduces the distance by a third."

  Marin shook his head. "That was the answer wasn't it?"

  "Answer about what?"

  "Which one of you is number one?"

  "Hmm, and the answer is?"

  "Number one is whichever one of you is with Regan."

  "Marin, there's something I've noticed, with every merge that happens the version that has been separated from her snorts the latest Regan data like an addict on coke. I'll tell you something else; right now, we've been away two months. Now that we're on the move I wouldn't deviate even one degree out of my way to run over your mother. That tells you everything. We're going straight home."

  * * *

  Rod felt himself gripping the armrest so tightly that it hurt. His other hand felt crushed by Minjees grip as the little ADF on screen zeroed in on their considerably larger model. Desperately he tried to disengage autopilot. Ham had said nothing for ten minutes, his last words being simply "Trust me." He hadn't prepared them in any way for this. The little ADF appeared to accelerate toward them in a final burst, expanding in their vision until with an embarrassing scream his bladder voided. Opening his eyes a moment later he could see the rear of an ADF shooting away from them.

  Drenched in perspiration he looked sideways and saw Minjee had fainted. He reached across and gently slapped at her cheek. "Minjee . . . Minjee!"

  She opened her eyes, sucking in a huge frightened breath.

  "Ham you bastard, what the fuck was that?"

  "That's how I deal with a mosquito Rod. It's a Regan idea, Arteis . . . return to sender. It means we don't need a weapon; we use the enemy's weapons against them. There are two options. First you can choose to displace a missile from one side of the ADF to the other and it will continue on its path. Second you can flip the missile and send it back where it came from. In here you have the option of letting the AI, or me apply it or alternatively, if we're otherwise engaged you can do it manually from the joystick. The three buttons have been there the whole time, feel for them."

  Rod gripped the joystick and sure enough the three raised ridges were there. "This is a bit embarrassing but I just assumed those ridges were for comfort."

  "They are designed that way and most of the time that will be their most useful function. But if you need it simply squeeze the top ridge hard for three seconds and it will engage Arteis. Then middle ridge is for straight through, bottom ridge is for flip, easy. The only proviso is you need to leave it until the last moment."

  "What if they're firing multiple bullets?"

  "Bullets have a much smaller more manageable mass; just hold the respective button down and Arteis will handle them as a continual process."

  "What if my finger slips?"

  "Does that happen often? Look, you're the last resort. That's why it's better to let me do it or the AI."

  Minjee interrupted. "Now that we've got that sorted, and I'm never going to forgive you by the way; I need a shower, badly, get us home!"

  * * *

  "Jared." the boy paused in his construction, a larger version of the flinger in the compound garden. The twins were assisting each hoping to be the first to ride it. He hadn't decided yet.

  "Yes mom." As always happened when he did this the twins looked around in bewilderment. He didn't deliberately frustrate them, the process of communicating with Ham and his mother in this way was perfectly natural and unconscious to him. Nevertheless he enjoyed their consternation and encouraged them in thinking he had a special power.

  "I'm going to sleep on The STEIN tonight, do you want to join me here or stay there with Gran?"

  "I'll stay here, I'm building something with the twins and we hope to try it tonight. I'm fine and they'll be disappointed if I go."

  "Ok, stay there then, and give my love to Gran."

  Jared turned back to the wide eyed twins, hmmm . . .

  Ham displaced the two across to The STEIN and they headed straight for the mess. Regan couldn't help reflecting on how things had changed. No pastes or roughage. They enjoyed the best now from freezers or larder. Ham knew their tastes and there had been no shortage of whatever she desired since the return four years ago.

  Sitting in the mess, meal completed, Leah finally addressed the elephant in the room.

  "So, what do you think is going to happen?"

  Regan considered the question carefully before answering. "Leah, I'm trapped by my own actions. I killed both those brothers, and that soldier, not with joy, not out of any planned revenge, but anger . . . yes. You could call it righteous anger but I'm not sure there is any such thing. The situation . . . that just gave me the opportunity to do it, I know that, certainly in the case of Brun and Sarin. The scary thing is I don't regret it even now. I'm not above the law, I respect it. But I'm not going to let anyone manipulate the law like this either, not to get something that isn't theirs. What's going to happen? I honestly think Sokolov has chosen to dance with the devil. He might have a case against me, and may have even succeeded if this was just an earth trial, but the involvement of the Coran's will mean he'll lose, either to them or to me. It remains to be seen which."

  In tune, they both sculled back the last of their wine. Regan reached for the old coin on the table and tossed it into the air, "Your call."

  "Heads."

  The coin landed near the edge then spun inwards, turning on its end before dropping to the surface . . . Heads.

  She looked at Regan, "Me first," and smiled.

  Leaving things as they were they headed for Regan's shower.

  * * *

  Pod One cruised in over the Ural Mountains, Moscow now only a few hours away at the speed limit requested by Russian Main Air Traffic Management.

  Steve Ryman watched Marcus rifling through his papers with some admiration. Marcus seemed very relaxed travelling in what seemed to him nothing more than a comfortable box, with no pilot. To do this total trust was required in an invisible Ham.

  "You've clearly done this a lot." He looked at Marcus questioningly.

  "What, the Pod? Yeah, I have been lucky enough to enjoy Regan's first class service over the last few years, and Ham's good company. His skills seem a bit redundant today though, we're crawling along. You know if they would only let us we could be there in minutes."

  "Marcus, we haven't had much time to talk, let's use the time well. Sure this is just discovery for us but I have a feeling something more important will be decided here."

  "What are you thinking?"

  "They've taken this straight to the Supreme Court of Russia. It's not unheard of; the Supreme Court does sit occasionally as a court of first instance but usually only when it's deemed there are important interests of state at issue. Clearly the Prosecutor General or someone else has made just such a claim. Frankly the only interests of the Russian Federation that could be of interest here are their ambitions for Hillary Station. That issue shouldn't even be connected to the case so they're drawing a really long bow here. Let's assume we're right, that this is all about Hillary. In that case, that they have chosen this particular course indicates to me they'll push for Judges to try the case, not a Jury. They won't want Regan's popularity to come into play. They'll probably suggest there are complex technical issues that only a Judge could follow."

  Marcus pushed his papers aside and turned to his friend. "Steve, I wonder if we should be rolling over at all. I've been thinking about something you said up at Hillary, that they are just using this case for leverage. You said eve
n if Regan doesn't appear they'll claim a moral win and use it to discredit Regan. If she does appear it will be a jack up anyway. You're probably right. So I'm wondering whether we should take a different approach altogether. Front foot this thing, admit the killings openly, don't deny anything and simply give the events context. We could say Regan's not embarrassed or sorry. We deny nothing and instead make our focus Jurisdiction. Without offending the Court we make a case that neither Earth nor Coran courts have jurisdiction over what is essentially a Dahlian issue. At the time these events occurred it was under Dahlian jurisdiction, not Coran and the Premier, Sindali recognized Regan and Marin as Heroes."

  Steve sat thinking, clearly nervous. "So let me get this right, your saying we go in all guns blazing. Deny nothing and simply point out there is no case to answer, that neither of the complainants have any jurisdiction over the issue."

  Marcus looked excited. "More than deny Steve admit it. Let's tell it like it is. Did she kill those rapists? Shit yeah! Plus those thugs were threatening the lives of the legitimate premier and her children. Regan saved the day and she'd do it again in a heartbeat. That's the kind of righteous warrior she is, you know, really play it up. Sindali was so happy she gave Regan the keys to the City type of thing. So there! You Coran bastards what are you going to do about it?"

  Steve looked alarmed. "Well they could always destroy the earth with death rays or something."

  The air seemed to go out of Marcus sails and he slumped into his chair. "Hmm, there is that."

  "They don't have death rays." Ham spoke for the first time.

  Steve looked up as if searching for the source of the voice, "Great, so what about the . . . or something?"

  "Look, it's a big vessel and they call it a warship but the whole system back there isn't big on military, it probably only carries around 12 nuclear missiles." Ham was dismissive.

  "Probably . . . and only twelve?" Steve wasn't convinced.

  "Almost certainly . . ."

  "Steve," Marcus intervened, "I'd quit while you're still sane mate. Listen, I hear your concerns but let's look at it another way. If we give in here just because they've got the biggest warship that's not right either."

  "Shouldn't we run this past your client?"

  Ham answered without hesitation. "Guy's she's happy; this is much more like it, right up her alley."

  "How do you know that?" They both asked together.

  Ham ignored the question. "All will become clear. She's sending through a few statements now and suggests you use them as you see fit. Also, I've contacted a number of news organizations, Russian TV, CNN, Al Jazeera, and the BBC and invited them to meet with us on arrival. It may pay to make a statement on the steps as we won't be able to broadcast anything once inside. Not officially anyway. Lastly please access the panels above your head. You will find there headsets and earpieces which will enable you to communicate freely in Russian while there. There is a box on the floor in front of you. Take that in and if asked tell them it is the translation device."

  "Is it?" Marcus asked as he rapidly made notes from the screen.

  "No, it's just an empty box. I'll do the translation working through their network from the Pod."

  Having covered the Admin Ham accelerated smoothly to a sedate three thousand kilometers per hour. Bugger Main Air traffic management.

  Marcus glanced down at his notes. Standing on the steps of the magnificent Supreme Court building he couldn't help be a little intimidated by the huge crowd gathered, the presence of armed police plus the multitude of cameras, microphones and reporters arrayed in front, all jostling for space.

  "Thank you all for coming." At the Russian he could hear booming from the Pod Marcus had to stop momentarily however he gathered himself quickly and continued. "It has been widely reported that the Russian Courts are considering laying murder charges against my client Reagan Stein, for the killing of three individuals four years ago in the Gliese 667 system. The very thought of such a charge only a few years ago, considering the interstellar distances involved, would have been considered frankly, ridiculous. However it is acknowledged by my client that our systems are now relatively close.

  She wishes it to be known that she does not deny she was responsible for the deaths of these rapists, murderers, and supporters of an illegitimate regime on the Dahlian Orbital. Her actions, while extreme, were in defense of the legitimate leadership of Dahlia and in protection of the people's premier and her children. She does not regret her actions and was in fact rewarded by the legitimate leadership on their reinstatement to power.

  She further points out that the Coran people represented by the vessel currently in orbit have no legitimate jurisdiction over Dahlia and neither do the Russian Courts, with respect. Once again, thank you, we have no further comment at this time."

  Ignoring a barrage of questions he turned and followed Steve up the steps into the imposing pillared building. Behind them some in the crowd began to chant. "Regan, Regan, Regan . . ." It quickly grew in crescendo.

  Nearing the top of the Court steps a huge roar from the crowd caused them to stop and turn back to the square. All were looking up and pointing. Silently the relatively large STEIN Interceptor was drifting in from over the buildings opposite. Then Russian Migs screamed overhead in several waves, the sound suddenly deafening and definitely threatening.

  "I must be able to read the future," Marcus glanced at Steve.

  "Sorry?" Steve looked at him.

  "Our new strategy Steve, it just became essential."

  They waited with the best vantage in the area as the Interceptor rear doors irised open.

  Leah stepped out first followed closely by Regan, both in matching 'uniforms'.

  "Jesus," Steve muttered, "do you ever get used to that?"

  The two women looked stunning as they strode across the open space to the base of the steps. Surprisingly the crowd parted before them with civilians taking it upon themselves to act as crowd control. It was extraordinary.

  "No . . . you don't get used to it, but would you want to? I guess it's not to everyone's taste in fashion but if you like an athletic look . . ."

  "Does it for me . . ." Steve interrupted his musing, his eyes glued on the pair.

  "And," Marcus added with the sound of a man resigned to frustration, "now there are two."

  Though shorter than Regan, Leah was still taller than most in the crowd, and equally stunning. In their tight body suits they looked magnificent and not surprisingly the enormous crowd became eerily silent as they made the climb up the steps toward the huge pillars of the building. Nearing the final step applause broke out, building back to the chant they had heard earlier.

  Marcus stepped forward to greet them with a handshake but Regan immediately embraced him then Steve. "Well," Marcus said to her, "You sure know how to make an entrance."

  Regan looked back at the crowd, then smiled and waved drawing another roar of approval.

  "I couldn't stay away Marcus; it's just not me to hide. Come on," she grabbed his arm, "let's get in there; we both know this reception is way over the top. It's a myth they're cheering for, not me, shit if they only knew me."

  "If they really knew you they'd still be cheering." Marcus said it as he turned with her, one arm proprietarily behind her back and they began the walk into the building. Steve and Leah followed. The American was reflecting on the good fortune of connection with one Marcus Jackson.

  The preliminary hearing was held in the main chamber, three Supreme Court judges presiding to determine whether the charges should proceed to full trial.

  Opening statements were completed quickly. The Russian Prosecutor General Gagarin declaring the intention to charge, referring to the clear evidence he would present and the fact the killings were not denied by the accused. That a conviction was likely he stated was 'self evident'.

  Marcus replied by repeating his statement from the Court steps. The killings were not denied but they were in defense of life and the legitimate lea
dership of Dahlia. This was not murder. Further, the Coran people have no legitimate jurisdiction or interest over Dahlia and neither, with respect, does any court of Earth.

  They then proceeded to outline their respective cases.

  The Prosecutor General first presented the case for charges to be laid against Regan. Marcus did not object to the visual evidence and endured for the seventh time the shocking visuals of Regan dispatching the three men. The visuals were clear and unequivocal. He wasn't bothered. When called to make his case in reply things took an interesting turn. He called on the Coran Commander to testify.

  "Objection your honor," the prosecutor interjected. "The Coran leader is merely the bearer of the evidence. He was not present at the time of the offenses and has no relation to the charge. Further he is not a citizen of Earth."

  "With respect your honor," Marcus replied calmly, "the only evidence presented against my client is that offered visually. In order to establish the veracity of the visuals, we need to question the only senior representative of the Coran Government present. He is a sworn military officer and I am sure has integrity beyond question. We will accept his words however need to receive his testimony."

  The prosecutor looked across to the benches where Vasily Popov sat, dwarfed by the giant Coran. They were in close discussion. Popov looked up and nodded. The Prosecutor turned back to the bench. "With respect your honor, we withdraw our objection. We have no problem with the Commander testifying." He sat down, a little troubled.

  All eyes were on the Commander as he was guided forward to the dock. For most in the courtroom this was their first real view of an alien. It was both a shock and a disappointment. The disappointment, that like Marin, the 'Alien' looked human. The shock was the alien's build. That he was tall was expected but he appeared more spectre like than Marin, thinner and more menacing, like an angel of death. Quiet muttering broke out around the chamber as Merryl was guided to the dock. There followed a moment of confusion as it was considered how he might give the oath. The presiding Judge intervened.