by John Bowers
She stared at him for long seconds. Behind him, the security guards were picking themselves up and groaning as they brushed themselves off. Defendant Rowan still sat on the courtroom floor, bleeding from the nose. The judge took it all in, then spoke again.
“The security officers will take the defendant back to Farrington lockup. Make sure he gets medical attention. Everyone else…my chambers. Now.”
She turned and strode through a door behind the bench. Nick frowned as the meaner of the two Farrington guards brushed him aside to get to the prisoner. Tarpington and the defense attorney headed for the judge’s door, and Nick followed at a slower pace. He stopped as one of the guards hauled Rowan to his feet and pushed him roughly toward another door behind the witness chair.
“If I catch you mistreating that prisoner again,” Nick said, “I will arrest you.” He glared at the man to make sure he understood the threat was not a joke.
The guard sneered. “You and whose army? Fuck you, tinhorn.”
The prisoner and two guards left the courtroom before Nick could reply.
The judge’s chambers were tight, barely big enough for a desk and two chairs. The Federation flag dangled from one wall, the Federation Seal was displayed on another. A name plate on the desk identified the owner as The HON. MONICA MAYNARD.
As Nick and the two lawyers crowded in, the judge removed her dark robe and hung it on a wall peg. She turned to face her visitors, giving Nick a good look at her for the first time. She was much better looking than he’d first realized—although ten or twelve years his senior, she had a figure teenage girls would kill for. But her gaze was stern and direct, and she pinned him to the spot with her glare.
“Marshal Walker, I don’t appreciate scuffles in my courtroom. Not even from a Federation officer. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Nick was startled. He blinked once or twice before he replied.
“With respect, your Honor, maybe you had your back turned and didn’t see that those guards were abusing the prisoner—”
“They weren’t abusing him!” Tarpington interjected. “He was out of order and they were merely gaining control of the situation.”
“By breaking his nose?” Nick met Tarpington’s eyes and stared him down.
The defense attorney jumped in. “Your Honor, you did have your back turned and you didn’t see what they did. My client was trying to talk to me and the guards began pushing him around. Marshal Walker intervened to keep the situation from getting any worse!”
“Excuse me…” The judge scowled at the defense lawyer. “…I was talking to Marshal Walker. When I want to hear from the rest of you, I will invite you to speak.”
She turned her eyes back to Nick. He waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. He spread his hands in surrender.
“I apologize for the scuffle, but I believe it was necessary. In the same circumstances, I’d do it again.”
She stared at him for twenty seconds, and he stared back. He’d never come up against a judge before, but was confident of his position and his duty. He refused to be intimidated. Finally Judge Maynard sighed as if it were all too complicated to think about.
“Fine,” she said. “We won’t speak of it again.” She pulled out her desk chair and sat down; the rest of them remained standing. “Marshal Walker, to your left is Federation Attorney David Tarpington…”
The tall blond man dredged up a grin and reached for Nick’s hand. He shook it firmly and cracked half the bones in Nick’s hand with his grip.
“…and to your right is defense attorney Misery Allen.”
The young woman smiled as Nick nodded to her. She really was very young, he decided—she didn’t look a day over nineteen.
“My name is Monica Maynard,” the judge concluded, “but you can call me ‘your Honor’.”
For the first time, her iron exterior cracked and Nick detected a heartbeat. The corners of her lips curled in what was almost a smile.
“Welcome to Ceres,” she said. “Now tell us…what the hell did you do wrong to get yourself sent to this shithole?”
Chapter 4
“I could ask you the same question,” Nick said after the attorneys had left. Judge Maynard had dismissed them after introductions, stating that she wanted to get acquainted with the newest Federation officer on Ceres. She invited Nick to sit and poured him a drink…over his objections.
“My courtroom,” she told him as she placed a whiskey on the desk in front of him. “My chambers, my rules.”
Nick took a deep breath as he stared at the shot glass. “I really shouldn’t drink on duty,” he said.
Judge Maynard smiled at him. “My courtroom. Drink.”
Nick had “testified” in mock trials at the Academy, but had no experience with real judges. It felt like a power play, in his mind—the lady judge establishing her authority over him in a man’s world—but she was a real judge and therefore had real authority. There were boundaries, of course, but this hardly seemed the time to stand on principle. He lifted the glass and downed the shot, swallowing quickly and giving her an ironic grin to let her know he was up to the game. He’d half expected the whiskey to be local rot-gut, but it was surprisingly smooth.
“Good stuff,” he said conversationally. “Canadian?”
She raised her eyebrows and nodded, impressed.
“You know your bourbon.”
“And you have good taste.”
“Yes I do.” She smiled and lifted her own drink, a cocktail glass with three fingers of amber liquor. “I have very good taste indeed.” She held his eyes as she took a sip. She set the drink down.
“Tell me about yourself.”
Nick gave her the barest outline of his biography—born and raised in California, four years in the Star Marines, two in the U.F. Marshal Academy. Ceres was his first assignment. He recounted it all in thirty seconds.
“Back to my original question,” she said. “How badly did you have to screw up to get this assignment?”
“I volunteered for it.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope.”
“Did you have any idea what you were getting into?”
“Nope. Maybe I still don’t.”
She laughed, sincere and friendly.
“I really don’t think you do. This is the armpit of the Solar System. It really is.”
Nick was smiling. “And how did you end up here? You and those two attorneys look much too intelligent to get stuck in the armpit.”
Maynard’s smile faded somewhat and her eyes drifted back to her drink.
“I can’t speak for the other two, but I did screw up. Big time.”
“Yeah?” He wasn’t sure if he should ask the next question, but she seemed in a candid mood, so he did. “How’s that?”
“I came out here for love.” Her eyes rose to meet his, and for just a moment she looked as young and vulnerable as a schoolgirl. “Stupid, huh?”
Nick didn’t quite know what to say, but some response seemed indicated.
“You expected to find Mister Right on Ceres?”
She laughed and shook her head.
“Not quite that stupid. I was married to a good man. My husband got himself in some financial trouble…bad investments…and decided to run away from it all. He left me high and dry, but I was crazy in love with him, so I followed.” She shook her head in self deprecation. “Biggest mistake I ever made.”
Nick squirmed inwardly. This was getting awfully personal, and he’d first laid eyes on the woman barely thirty minutes ago. He sat silent.
“Long story short,” she said, “by the time I got out here he was already dead. Mining accident. I’d spent everything I had on transportation and I was stuck. I had a law degree and there was plenty of legal work here, so I was able to support myself. Before too long the judge retired and I was offered this position.”
She smiled.
“End of story.”
Nick made the correct facial expressio
n for the occasion, but he wasn’t buying it. If it was truly “end of story” she wouldn’t have told it to a complete stranger.
“With your courtroom experience,” he suggested, “you should be able to find a position back home. Space fare paid by whatever jurisdiction hired you.”
She shook her head slowly. “Not quite that simple, but I won’t bore you with the why. What we need to establish now is…what about you? Are you married?”
“Nope.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Nope.” Not anymore.
She studied him for a long moment. “Do you…find me attractive?”
Yes, definitely.
“Jesus Christ, your Honor! Are you propositioning me?”
She laughed, maybe a little uncomfortably.
“Marshal Walker…may I call you Nick?” He nodded. “Nick, it’s damn lonely out here on this rock, and I’m a little desperate. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt a man’s arms around me, so…yes, I guess I am. Propositioning you, I mean.”
Nick felt his heart trip a little faster.
“Your Honor—”
“Monica.”
“Monica, there must be five men on this asteroid for every woman—”
“Fifteen,” she corrected. “It’s fifteen to one.”
“That’s a pretty wide open playing field. Surely, with that many single men… I mean, why me?”
She leaned forward, her eyes earnest.
“You’re young and fresh and you look healthy. Nick, have you seen the men on this rock? I wouldn’t sleep with most of them even at gunpoint! They’re carrying microbes that haven’t even been discovered yet.”
“What about Tarpington? He doesn’t look that old, and he definitely looks healthy.”
Monica Maynard laughed, but not in a mean way.
“Dave Tarpington is every woman’s dream. Unfortunately, he does sleep with the men out here, microbes and all.”
“Oh.” Nick felt a flush creep up from his collar—nothing about Tarpington’s bearing had suggested his orientation.
“Listen, I’m not looking for love. No strings. Just two consenting adults occasionally coming together, that’s all I’m saying. You think about it, and I’ll leave it at that. Okay?”
He shrugged, then nodded.
“Okay. But doesn’t that constitute a conflict of interest?”
“No. If it were Tarpington, then it would be improper, because he argues cases in my courtroom. But you’re a law enforcement officer, not an officer of the court. Big difference.”
Nick smiled easily, but his blood was racing. Now he was looking at her differently, and liked what he saw. She might be a decade older, but she was all woman, and he hadn’t been laid in over a year.
“I’m glad we had this little talk,” he said.
She laughed again, suddenly more relaxed.
“Me, too. Sorry to hit you like a meteor at our first meeting, but I wanted to get to you before someone else did. With your looks and that badge, you’ll be a hot property among the women out here. Desperation makes us all a little forward.”
Artificial sunlight flooded the atrium that formed the central core of the courthouse. As Nick left the courtroom he took the stairs down to the second floor where he found the prosecutor’s office. Marshal Milligan had told him he should introduce himself to the “good guys” and get to know them, so…what the hell.
Somewhere in his imagination he expected to find an office bustling with sexy young women and harried prosecutors, but it was nothing like that. Like everything else he’d seen on Ceres, the office was cramped and overflowing, desks jammed together, paper stacked everywhere. One old man, probably a law clerk, manned the outer office, but glanced up at Nick and without a word returned to whatever he was doing.
“Excuse me.” Nick rapped his knuckles on a desk top. “Is Mr. Tarpington around?”
The old man looked up again. “Whatcha want him for?”
Nick smiled to hide his irritation. “I just saw him upstairs in the courtroom. Thought he looked lonely, wanted to offer my shoulder to cry on.”
The elderly gentleman glared for a moment, not sure if he was being mocked.
“Mr. Tarpington, if you don’t mind,” Nick repeated.
“Marshal Walker!”
The voice came from behind him and Nick turned. David Tarpington had stepped out of an office and extended his hand. This time Nick squeezed hard as they shook, to avoid injury.
“Come on inside.” Tarpington gestured toward his office. “I was hoping you’d drop by. We should get acquainted.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Nick took the chair Tarpington offered and glanced around. The office was small, but neat—neater than anything he’d seen yet on the asteroid.
Tarpington walked around his desk and sat down. He pushed a wooden box across the desk. “You smoke cigars?”
“No, I don’t. But thanks.”
Tarpington grinned. “Neither do I, but I keep them for visitors. Marshal Milligan, for instance.”
Nick nodded. “To prevent worms.”
David Tarpington laughed hard. “Did he lay that line on you, too? Funniest damn thing I ever heard.”
Nick smiled. His natural tendency, reinforced by Academy training, was never to take people at face value, but he was already starting to like this guy. Tarpington looked about twenty-eight, tall and fit and disgustingly handsome. Monica Maynard had described him as “every woman’s dream”, and Nick could see why. He stood about six feet four, obviously worked out, and had an engaging grin—with perfect teeth—that would captivate anyone, male or female. His wavy blond hair didn’t hurt, either, and that deep baritone voice was also an asset.
“Is there anything I can offer you? Coffee?”
“I’m good, thanks. Had breakfast just before heading over here.”
Tarpington nodded and sat back, relaxing in his chair.
“Well, it’s good to see some fresh blood once in a while. Ceres doesn’t offer much in the way of civilization, but for a young lawman itching to cut his teeth, it should be a golden opportunity. I hope you’ll find the experience rewarding.”
“I’m sure I will. I’ve already met some of the local wildlife.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Went into a bar last night and got into a fight before I even finished my beer. Hadn’t been off the starship an hour.”
Tarpington laughed. “You must have gone to the Open Airlock.”
“I think that’s what it was called.”
“It’s one of the seedier joints on Ceres. There are a few pubs that are more…upscale. You picked a miner’s bar.”
“Must have been. First one I saw, so I went in.”
They chatted for half an hour, measuring each other. Tarpington asked about Nick’s background and Nick told him. Nick’s opinion didn’t change—he still liked the man.
“Now that you know my life story,” Nick said, “what about you? You look well enough educated that you could find work in any major city on Terra. Why are you hanging around this place?”
Tarpington’s grin faded slightly, his eyes took on a guarded look.
“To be absolutely honest? I’m a narcissist. I like to be the biggest fish in the pond, and the pond here is pretty small.”
Nick nodded, slightly taken aback. He hadn’t expected quite that much honesty.
“I also get an ego boost from living on a frontier world. Terra has gotten too civilized for its own good…and I say ‘civilized’ in quotes.
“And before somebody beats me to it,” Tarpington concluded, “I’ll also tell you that I’m a gay man. I’m perfectly content to live in a society that is ninety percent male.” Tarpington watched him closely for several seconds, then his lips curled into a grin. “Too bad you’re not gay.”
Nick’s eyebrows arched. “How do you know that?”
“You’re a homophobe.”
“The hell I am! I don’t hate anybody because of—”
/> “I didn’t say anything about hate. The term ‘homophobe’ simply means fear of gay people, not necessarily hatred.”
Nick stared at him and felt his face flush.
“You probably have a tattoo on your tailbone that says DO NOT ENTER.”
Nick squirmed. “Actually, it says EXIT ONLY.”
Tarpington laughed. “All kidding aside, it’s in the body language. Relax, Nick, I’m not going to try to kiss you.”
Embarrassed, Nick nodded. “Fair enough. Not to get too personal, but is it safe to be gay in a place like this? You know…microbes?”
Tarpington laughed again, this time until the tears came.
“Judge Maynard,” he said. “Right? That’s her line. She’s terrified of catching something, has no love life at all. She probably ambushed you, didn’t she? She figures you haven’t been here long enough to get infected.”
Nick felt his face turn red again, but couldn’t help laughing.
“Like I said, I don’t want to get too personal.”
Tarpington wiped his eyes.
“Well, you could do a lot worse than Judge Maynard. She’s a very hot woman, even if she is thirty-six. If I wasn’t gay I’d be all over that.”
“So tell me, what kind of crime do we get here?”
“You name it. Anything you can think of. Most of the people in the ‘roids—probably two-thirds or better—are either on the run or hiding out from something, so they already have a criminal mentality…and the criminal imagination has no limit. Imagine it and they’ll do it, everything from extortion to murder, and lots of shit in between.”
“That guy upstairs in the courtroom…Rowan. What was his problem?”
“Drinking on the job and causing a man’s death. He operates an ice crusher, a really nasty piece of machinery with lots of lethal moving parts. Rowan was impaired and let it get away from him. Killed a man.”
“Allegedly?”
“Everything is ‘allegedly’ until the final verdict, but he’s guilty.”
“And what about Farrington Security?”
“What about them?”
“Are they always that rough with prisoners?”
