The brig allowed him some time to visit Jen. That surprised Paul at first, until he mentioned it to Sharpe and the master-at-arms nodded knowingly. "They want you to soften her up, sir. Not deliberately. But maybe get her to blurt out something to you, maybe get her thinking about cutting a deal."
While he was waiting for Jen, Paul read the warning posted on the wall of the visitor's room. "All conversations and movements within this compartment are subject to audio and video monitoring at any and all times. Use of this compartment indicates acceptance of these conditions." I hadn't really noticed that before. I wonder how many prisoners have said something here that they regretted?
A master-at-arms escorted Jen into the room, checked the door Paul had entered by to ensure it was securely locked, then left through the other door. Jen sat down heavily in the chair opposite Paul. Paul cleared his throat cautiously. "Hi, Jen."
"Hi."
"I, uh…" Want to cheer you up but hadn't really thought about how I'd do that beyond being here, which doesn't seem to be doing the trick. "How-" I'm going to ask how she's doing? What a stupid question.
Jen looked away from him. "I can't decide whether to be angry or despairing."
"We'll beat this, Jen."
" We aren't facing anything. I am. Thanks in no small part to your favorite lawyer."
"Commander Carr's doing her job, Jen. It's not fair-"
" Fair?" Jen finally looked at him, glaring with anger. "If you're going to bring up fair then what am I doing here?"
"I… I just wanted…"
"It's very convenient, isn't it?"
"What? Convenient?"
"You know what I mean. That hot-shot babe gets me convicted, leaving Paul Sinclair free to fill the role of her part-time boy-toy."
Paul held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Jen, are you serious? You can't really believe- "
"How am I know what to believe, Paul Sinclair?"
"I would never choose Commander Carr over you. Not for an instant."
"Then why are you defending her? Siding with her even while she drags my reputation through the mud?"
Paul looked down, unable to meet her gaze for a moment. Look at it from her perspective. She's right. "I'm sorry. I'm here, I'm at the trial, for you. Not for anyone else."
"Can you believe it? Bad enough I had to sit there while they recited all those names. Names of my friends and co-workers." Her face worked with emotion. "And what could I do? Cry? I couldn't do that. I'm an officer. I have to be strong."
"You're stronger than I believed possible, Jen. I mean that."
"I wish it helped. But I'm sure they're figuring out some way to use that against me. Just like they're using my professional skills against me. How can I defend myself against this? I'm supposed to be able to refute evidence. To strike back at hard facts. But there aren't any. There's just these ghosts, things I can't hit no matter how hard I swing. How do I prove I'm not guilty? Or am I crazy to even ask?"
"You're not guilty, Jen. And you're not insane, either."
Jen sank back into the chair, elbows on her knees and her head buried in her hands. "No hard targets to hit. That little son of a bitch Taber. I can't believe he made that stuff up."
"Lieutenant Bashir discredited him."
"No, he didn't! You saw the members!"
"Bashir proved Taber didn't know what he was talking about, that he'd distorted what he testified about, that he had ulterior motives. Jen, I'll tell Bashir that I'll go on the stand and testify for you. That I know you couldn't have had anything improper going on with Schmidt because you couldn't have done that. You're too honest."
Jen smiled sourly. "Honest. That's doubtless another crime on my part."
"Everyone knows Taber was wrong. Nobody'll believe him."
"That's wrong, Paul Sinclair. You know that's wrong. You know what everyone'll be thinking. Sailors. They leave their marriage vows and other commitments at the pier. They sail off and have affairs and patronize hookers, and it's always been that way and always will be that way. You know they'll think that. And even if you and Schmidt's guy go up there and swear teary-eyed that she and I were faithful to you two everyone'll just think 'those poor guys. Always the last to know. Don't they know what sailors are like?' You know that's what they'll think, Paul!"
Paul bit his lip as he met Jen's gaze. Do I deny that? Knowing she's right? I can't see where pretending that I'm oblivious is going to make her feel any better. "Yeah. I know that."
"How the hell do I prove I didn't have an affair with a dead woman? How do I prove that?"
"I don't know." Paul let his helpless feelings show. "This isn't how it's supposed to work."
"Oh, that makes me feel a lot better. Thanks for letting me know that."
"Jen, I'm doing everything I-"
" Then why am I still here?"
Paul stared at her, momentarily silent with shock at the way her anger had erupted. Anger obviously directed at him once again. How do I answer a question like that? I don't know. Maybe that's the only answer that fits now. "I don't know." Jen leaned forward so she could press her fingertips against her temples. Paul could see the flesh around her nails whitening from the force Jen was using. "I'm there every day, Jen."
She didn't look up. "For me or for her?"
"Her? Her who?"
"Commander Carr." Jen almost spat the name this time.
Paul felt his own anger flaring now. "Jen, for God's sake knock it off. I told you that's nonsense. You know full well-"
"I don't know anything anymore, Mr. Sinclair." She finally raised her head to look at him again, but Paul found his own eyes flinching away from the emotions mirrored in Jen's. "I'm fighting for my life. And I don't know why."
Paul's voice sounded rough to him. "I told you I don't know why either."
"Then you're not doing either of us much damn good, are you?"
He stared straight into her eyes, not believing what he'd heard. "What…? Jen, what're you doing?"
She looked down again, concealing her haunted eyes from Paul once more. "I don't know," she whispered. "Just go away."
"No!"
"Then shut up or something."
"Jen, this isn't like you."
"What do you know what I'm like? What do I know what I'm like? Maybe it's all a big illusion, maybe I've always been an awful screw-up, an accident waiting to happen. And I did something or didn't do something and a lot of people who trusted me died. How do I know that isn't true?"
"Because it's not!"
" Then why am I here?"
"I…"
"You're not helping me. You're not helping you. Give it up. Just go away and let me sail off to hell alone."
"I don't want to."
"And I don't care."
"Jen." Paul waited as minutes passed without Jen moving, then finally he stood up slowly. "Okay." Shouldn't I say something else? What? I understand? How the hell could I understand? I don't even know what the hell's going on. "I'll see you tomorrow." Jen didn't respond, so Paul left, feeling an emptiness inside only partially filled by his anger at her.
Franklin offered no refuges, no places to hole up alone with his anger. The rent-a-shacks were all tied up, used by people brought in to work on the Maury or assist in or provide press coverage of the court-martial. He didn't even dare wander about, knowing that he might run into some press crew looking for a chance to stick a camera in his face. He'd never wanted that, and certainly didn't want it while his anger with Jen was burning so bright. All I've done for her. All I've tried to do. And she shoves me away. Great. Thanks. You're welcome. And go to hell, too.
Fortunately, there was always the ship. The Michaelson sat securely at her berth, her quarterdeck quiet at this time of the evening. A startled Jack Abacha standing watch on the quarterdeck saluted Paul onboard.
Paul swung in the wardroom door in search of coffee, then tried to swing back out again immediately when he saw Commander Sykes seated at his usual place. Sykes, however, raised
a commanding hand and gestured to a seat near him. Paul scowled, but obeyed. "Yes, sir?"
"Ah. 'Yes, sir.' What's the occasion for the formality, young Sinclair?"
"Suppo, I'm sorry, but I'm really not in the mood for a discussion."
"In this case, that may mean you require one." Sykes lost his habitual smile and eyed Paul. "You've been to see Jen Shen."
"Yes, sir."
"It didn't go well."
"Commander Sykes, sir, with all due respect-"
Sykes raised his hand again, cutting off Paul. "Not well at all. Would you be surprised to know I expected this? No, don't turn that unflattering shade of red. It's not really about you and her. It's about what she's trapped in."
Paul took a long, deep breath, trying to calm himself. Sykes has given me a lot of good advice, and I know he really cares about Jen. I ought to listen to him. "Suppo, I know what she's trapped in. But why would that make her…"
"Lash out at you? I assume that's what happened?"
"Yes, sir." Paul stared at Sykes. "You do know what's going on? What?"
"I'm afraid it comes down to two things, Paul. One is what's happening to Jen, and the other is that you haven't fully appreciated the impact of those events upon her."
"Dammit, Suppo, I've been doing just about nothing but trying to appreciate what she must feel like!"
Sykes took a drink before replying. "Think about it from Jen's perspective, Paul."
"I've been doing that, Suppo. I understand how awful it must feel to be unjustly accused of such a crime."
"But you haven't fully grasped Jen's feelings." Sykes looked off into the distance for a moment before focusing back on Paul. "Jen's being accused of having done something horrible by people who, so far as she knows, have no reason to persecute her. The entire ponderous machinery of the Navy seems focused on proving she did this awful thing. Why? Why would they accuse her of such a thing? Why work so hard to prove her guilt? Jen wouldn't be human if she didn't fear deep inside that there might be a reason, that she might somehow in some way be guilty."
"Suppo-"
Sykes gestured for silence. "Wait. I'm not saying Jen's guilty. Not at all. I am saying she must in the dark hours of the night wonder why so many are convinced of her guilt. And she must wonder what about her causes them to be so convinced. Why did they charge her with these crimes? Why do they seek to convict her? Somewhere inside her, Jen surely fears there might be some basis for it all. Under such stress, under such accusations, even saints would question themselves. It's common after major traumas like what the Maury experienced. Feelings of inadequacy, of failure. Survivor guilt. You've heard of that? Wondering if you could've done something to change the outcome."
Paul stared silently at the supply officer for a long moment. "Like I felt after Chief Asher died."
Sykes nodded. "Exactly like that. Magnified sixty-one times. And magnified as well by the criminal charges against her."
"My God." Paul felt an icy knot inside. After Jen's father finished that investigation into Asher's death he didn't directly blame me, but he laid enough guilt on me for maybe not preventing the fire that I've carried it around ever since. And Jen isn't just being blamed by implication, but directly. "She's actually wondering if she's really, somehow, guilty. If she deserves what's happening to her."
"Either because of this crime or because of something else she's imagining she's done wrong and this is a cosmic way of balancing the scales. She'd never admit it, Paul. Not Jen. But I'm certain such fears haunt her. Only an insane person wouldn't question their innocence when so many seem intent on proving their guilt."
Paul closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall the emotions he'd seen in Jen. He's right. Sykes is saying some of the same things Jen did, but from a different perspective. Jen's scared. Not just scared of being convicted. She's scared of somehow being guilty. "She's not."
Sykes nodded as if Paul had spoken aloud his entire train of thought. "No. I certainly don't believe so." He sighed and took another drink of coffee. "All we have to do is convince the world of that. And all you have to do as well is ensure Jen knows you remain certain of that, regardless if what else may happen."
"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, b
ut 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?"
Rule of Evidence ps-3 Page 23
