Pursuit of the Guardian (Children of the Republic Book 2)

by Jason Hutt

  They arrived at a courthouse where another massive crowd, another gauntlet of reporters, and another barrage of questions awaited. He was ultimately shepherded into a small court room. A judge in black robes sat behind a raised podium. Max was seated at a small white table. A woman was seated at another table to his right.

  A robotic voice erupted from unseen speakers around the room.

  “Number five on the calendar, case 1927, Earth Republic verse Maxime Cabot for arraignment.”

  Max listened as the judge and prosecution exchanged greetings.

  The tall dark-skinned man turned his attention to Max.

  “You are Maxime Cabot?”

  “I am.”

  “Please listen as the clerk reads the charges.”

  The robotic voice returned. “Two thousand five hundred thirty-three counts of murder in the first degree stemming from the release of hostile organisms aboard Nexus Station.”

  Max tuned the voice out as it droned on and on detailing more than 280 counts of child smuggling, 1212 counts of felony destruction of property, 38 counts of trading of restricted substances, 15 counts of resisting arrest, and one count of treason.

  “Do you understand these charges, Mister Cabot?”

  “I do,” Max said.

  “May God have mercy on you.”

  The jail cell was mercifully quiet and Max was glad to have only his thoughts for company. He was inside a white box with no discernible entry or exit. The air was cool but still. Max sat on the floor, back to the wall, watching his hands tremble. He guessed it had been about three days since his last drink, maybe a little more. In the confusion of the trip and the unrelenting silence of his cell, the passage of time became difficult to estimate.

  At the point when Max’s stomach began to growl, one door of the cell slid away and Max’s usual coterie of guards awaited him. Two of them grabbed him by his arms, hauled him to his feet and marched him down to another small room. Max took a seat and greedily drank from the glass of water that was on the table.

  The door on the opposite end of the room slid away and in walked a heavyset man with reddish skin and graying hair.

  “Good afternoon, Max, I’m Stu Watershed. I’ll be your council for the upcoming trial.” He held out a hand to Max.

  Max ignored it. He stared blankly at the table.

  “Hello, Max, you there?” Watershed said in a mocking lilt. After getting nothing but silence from Max Watershed harrumphed. “If this is how you’re going to be, I’ll have to punch your ferocity up a bit for the book.”

  Max looked at him and furrowed his brow.

  “This is a trial for the ages,” he bellowed, “I’ve already got book publishers, movie studios, and a promotional tour lined up to tell this story.”

  “I don’t want this,” Max said.

  “What you want doesn’t matter anymore, Maxie. Law prohibits you from profiting from your actions, but people want to hear your story. They want to know why you did it, how you did it, and how did you pull off such daring escapes? I hear there are already half a dozen movie scripts in the works.”

  “Get out,” Max said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I said, get out. I don’t want any of this.”

  “Come on, Max,” he said with an uneasy chuckle. “Think about this for a moment. I’m the best there is and I’m doing this pro bono. You can’t do any better, Maxie.”

  “Shut up and get out. I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”

  “I don’t advise that you fight this on your own.”

  “I’m not fighting this,” Max said, “I’m guilty. I did those things.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Maxie. There are several different ways to frame this. The easiest to refute is the Nexus incident stuff. You didn’t engineer those creatures, so that shouldn’t be that hard a sell. The child trafficking is a little more challenging,” Watershed said.

  “Get out,” Max said.

  “Come on, Maxie.”

  “My name is Max. And I refuse your counsel. I’m allowed to do that, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, it’s within your rights, but-”

  “Get out, then.”

  Watershed arched an eyebrow and shook his head. “Guess that’s why you’re on that side of the table. Have it your way.”

  Watershed left and Max was returned to his cell.

  ***

  The waiting area for Admiral Kersey’s office was not that different from the waiting area for Admiral Dorn’s office. It contained the same Naval standard-issue dark blue couch, a small table, and a window that looked out across the base. On Ceres, all Akimbe could see was the desolate landscape, the spartan architecture of the base, and the shimmer of the environmental field. Here, well, there were at least some swaying trees beyond the spartan architecture and the shimmer of the environmental field.

  His attention was drawn to a small crowd gathered near the front gates of the base. Akimbe stood and walked closer to the window, squinting to see what they were here to support. He had seen the images of the spaceport and the throbbing crowd of gawkers who watched Max Cabot land and be escorted to his new home in prison. These people, though, did not look like they were gathered in celebration. There were maybe two hundred of them in all with some of them holding signs that moved up and down to the rhythm of a chant Akimbe couldn’t hear.

  A large banner unfurled, meant to be seen by personnel across the base. Akimbe frowned as he read the text. ‘FREE MAX’ was emblazoned in bold black letters across a white background. “Idiots,” Akimbe mumbled.

  The door to Kersey’s office slid open. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Commander,” the Admiral said as he walked over to stand beside Akimbe.

  Akimbe turned and saluted crisply; Kersey returned the gesture and then turned his attention to the crowd Akimbe had been eyeing. He shook his head. “Some people you just can’t reach,” he said.

  “It’s disgusting,” Akimbe said, “Rallying behind that man as if he weren’t a thief and murderer.”

  “If it were up to me, they would all be rounded up and locked away,” Kersey said, “But it’s not up to me…or you. It’s a shame about this whole business with Admiral Dorn. She’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s been a good officer.”

  “The Admiral and I do not see eye-to-eye on many matters.”

  Kersey laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. If it were up to her, you would’ve already been court-martialed and dishonorably discharged…or worse. You’re lucky it’s not up to her.”

  “Only because she’s been overseeing a corrupt and rotten force that sits back lazily while vultures steal goods from under our noses. All of my soldiers take their cues from me. The only way rot sets in is if it lives within you to begin with.”

  “Well, she’s was right about one thing in her report,” Kersey said, “You hate her with the fire of a thousand suns.”

  “I only know of two people that I hate more and they are both criminals,” Akimbe said.

  “Commander, I’m sorry you find yourself in this ugly little situation. Rest assured that this will all be resolved as quickly as it can be. When all is said and done, I expect you’ll be reassigned to my command and reinstated to your full rank.”

  “Thank you, Admiral.”

  “We’ll still have to go through the whole rigmarole though. No way around that, I’m afraid.”

  “I understand.”

  “I also think that everything is a little too raw for you. If you’re called in front of a tribunal now, you’re likely to say something that will vindicate the Admiral. I want you to take three weeks of leave.”

  “Three weeks?” Akimbe asked, stunned.

  Kersey hesitated. “Admiral Dorn’s crossed some of the wrong people and, frankly, her attitude towards some of our partners hasn’t won her any friends, but she is an Admiral and has had a long, successful career. Those on the tribunal will respect her words. If you don’t say the right thing on that stand, you co
uld find yourself having to take a much longer vacation.”

  Akimbe shook his head in frustration as his gaze drifted back toward the gathered protestors.

  “It won’t be that bad, Commander. We could all use a little downtime. When was the last time you had a break?”

  “I don’t remember,” Akimbe said.

  “Then you’re overdue,” Kersey said as he clapped Akimbe on the shoulder, “Three weeks, Commander. You’re not to set foot on this base let alone any ship during that time.”

  “May I contact friends in the fleet?”

  “What you do is up to you. We won’t restrict your comms, but watch yourself, everything you type and everything you say within earshot of a microphone could be used against you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Akimbe said. He saluted the Admiral and marched out, refusing to let his shoulders sag even a millimeter.

  ***

  “Hunter Graham already made the announcement,” Hiram Wingate said to Maria, “More inspections teams will be deployed by the end of the week, stepping up enforcement in all outer colonies. They’re drafting increased sanctions as we speak and are planning to bring it to the floor in a couple of days. The President is expected to support them.”

  Hiram stared at Maria, his young face twisted into a terrified mix of indecision and frustration. Maria usually found his soft good looks easy to linger on, but today his misgivings only ratcheted up her own anxiety. His concern was easy to dissect; the colony of Valhalla had been hiding something as well.

  “We’re finished,” Yesu Temujin said, the wrinkles on her elderly face seemed to be etched deeper than they had ever been.

  Maria looked around the table at the few disconsolate faces that had arrived for the outer colony caucus meeting. Only seven had bothered to show – Hiram Wingate of Valhalla, Yesu Temujin of Taraq, Marcel Reese of Shire, Joelle Franken of Koenigswald, Adda Aurya of Mukawa, John Cortes of Pasqua, and Rose Magahee of Hazel – with the rest of the representatives not wanting to risk being associated with this particular lot. Maria stared vacantly at the floor, little hope remained.

  “We could fight it,” Maria said, her voice weak even to her own ears.

  Rose laughed. “We couldn’t line up another colony to support us even if we gave them asteroids made of diamond. We’re toxic, diseased, ready to be excessed.”

  “Hunter’s going to clamp down on us, restrict our seats with sanctions that limit our voting rights, and he’ll do it with a smile on his face and a shake of his hand,” Marcel said as the others nodded in agreement.

  “No,” Maria said, “No, I can’t accept this. I won’t. What if we really fought it? What if we resisted?”

  “You’re joking, right?” Adda asked. “We can’t possibly resist. That would be unprecedented…it would be…”

  “An act of war,” Maria said. The words quieted the room. No one spoke, they being unsure whether to speak next and give the words support or to laugh at their absurdity. “What holds this Republic together? Fear? Tradition? Greed?

  “Why should we blindly follow those who would lead us into oblivion? No one in that chamber is looking out for the well-being of our people. There is no altruism in their motivations. They are in it to maintain their positions, their status. Why should we allow ourselves to be their fodder?”

  “Maria, you’re talking about treason,” Adda said, “I can’t be a part of this.”

  Adda stood, her face ready to burst into tears, and walked quickly out of the room. Maria looked around at the other faces as they turned from Adda to her.

  “Anyone else?” Maria asked. “Adda’s right. Leave now and you can claim ignorance.”

  No one moved.

  “Talk is one thing,” Hiram said, “But the Republic will respond with force.”

  “We have no way to physically resist them, they’ll send Naval forces, Army, special forces. We’ll be decimated,” John said.

  “I know someone who may be willing to help us,” Maria said, “Someone who would bring some force with her. There are also plenty of mercenary groups out there, we could recruit them.”

  “And pay them with what?” John said. “This is absurd.”

  “Is it?” Maria asked. “Don’t think about this within the constructs of our current laws. Why can’t we deploy nanomachines to create factories, to manufacture weapons, or create defenses? We could have them online in a week, building up our own forces. We wouldn’t live by the Republic’s laws anymore.”

  “Our people can’t do this,” Yesu said, “They’re hungry and tired. They’re not able to fight a war.”

  “So we build drones and we modify our crops as we see fit,” Hiram said, “We can find some interim solutions to get us by.”

  “Maybe you can,” Rose retorted, “We don’t all have your resources.”

  “So, I’ll help you,” Hiram said, “That’s what allies do. Valhalla isn’t rich in mineral resources, but we have water and food. We can pool our resources; we’re seven worlds, not seven cities.”

  “They’ll still crush us,” John said, “They’ll grind us into dust with the heel of their well-armored boot.”

  “Then leave, John” Maria said, “Walk away and wash your hands of this.”

  “So my choice is either commit treason or watch my colony dissolve under Republic sanctions?”

  Maria nodded and she looked around the room at each face. The shadow of uncertainty haunted several faces, but a few – Hiram, Yesu, and Marcel – raised their chins in defiance.

  “I need to think about this,” John said, “Rebellion is not something that starts on a whim. Besides, even if we do go down this insane path, we can’t stop the inspection teams that have already been deployed.”

  “That’s not true,” Maria said, “There’s one person in this Republic who has the means to get us in front of those inspection teams.”

  Maria could hardly believe the words as they escaped her lips. Everyone in the room knew who she was speaking of. Maria’s heart trembled at the admission. She felt pain in her chest as her heart revolted against what the mind suggested. She closed her eyes and took a calming breath.

  Rose shook her head. “Maria, you’ve wanted Max Cabot locked up for the better part of the last decade and now you’re going to ask him to join us? You really have lost your mind.”

  “He’s in prison!” John yelled. “Do you think he’s going to snap his fingers and his magical ship will appear? Hell, we don’t even know why he didn’t have it at Ceres. It’s possible the idiot got it destroyed.”

  “It’s still out there,” Maria said, “I’d bet on it.”

  “You still have to convince him to go along with this,” Yesu said, “Convince him to hand it over to us.”

  “Not to mention break him out of prison,” John said.

  “One step at a time, John,” Maria said, “Let’s get him to help us first.”

  “I’ll do it,” Hiram said, “I’ll talk to him. Maria, you shouldn’t have to do that.”

  “No,” Maria said, “I will. If this is going to happen, it’s going to be on my terms.”

  The room fell silent. The rest of the representatives stared at her. Maria narrowed her focus on John. “Are you with us, John?”

  He shook his head. “I need time.”

  “There is no time. Once those inspection teams touch down, it’s over. Once they strip away colony status, they strip away you’re seat. Once you lose that seat, you’ll have lost your moment. Some people will still follow you, others though, they will walk away and fall in line behind the ones with legitimate authority. We do this now or we won’t be able to do it at all.”

  “This is treason,” he said.

  “No, this is standing up for those that need our help the most. This is doing our job.”

  Chapter 18

  Hannah drew in a long, slow calming breath and felt her tongue jammed against the roof of her mouth. She moved the tip of her tongue down and released the breath, feeling the jitters pass out of
her body like the wasted energy it was.

  “Are you ready, Miss Cabot?” Reggie asked.

  Hannah nodded.

  “Very good. Starting countdown, we jump in sixty seconds.”

  “Reggie, if I don’t come back or if I get captured or killed, don’t hand over the ship to Ironheart. Destroy it. Jump into the sun or something.”

  “I will need a command override to give that command priority.”

  “Command protocol echo-echo-niner,” Hannah said.

  “Command protocol accepted,” Reggie said, “How long should I wait until I declare mission failure?”

  Hannah hesitated for just a second. “Give me a week. If I can’t figure out how to get in touch with you by then, well, that’ll be on me.”

  “Command accepted,” Reggie said.

  Hannah nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “I need no apology, madam,” Reggie responded.

  “Reggie, I have to believe that deep down you would prefer to be functional.”

  “I don’t have preferences. I don’t wish. Tell me to do and I will do it. My personality algorithms will project a semblance of human emotion, but in the end, I am a tool, a means to an end. I will do as ordered. I will not override your command unless that command is superseded by someone with higher command priority.”

  “Max,” Hannah whispered.

  “Correct,” Reggie said.

  Hannah nodded. No other command override would come. She was certain of that. Reggie would plunge the Guardian into the sun without hesitation if she didn’t contact him in seven days. That was plenty of time for the mission as planned, assuming there were no screw-ups.

  “There will always be things that don’t go according to plan,” Hannah heard Ironheart’s lesson in her head.

  As the countdown timer on the console reached zero, Hannah said, “Reggie, make it ten days.”

  “Command revision accepted. Thank you for the stay of execution.”