by Scott Rhine
“Cricket crunchies? You won’t eat meat, but you’ll try these?”
“I had to eat bugs for my survival course,” Stu said. “Besides, our chickens love them.” He grabbed a handful of brown protein chips and leaned over to consume them. That was when his special senses picked up the flying insect. It had a higher density than a real insect—probably a spy drone. Whose? It had probably snuck in with the delivery man, so it wasn’t the US military. In an ideal world, the spy device would be from Fortune Enterprises. In the worst case scenario, it could be from the faction that had attacked Ascension.
“You raise chickens? In space?” Onesemo sounded doubtful.
“Yeah. You guys know we live inside a biosphere that’s two kilometers across. The Magi imported and modified several Earth species to make us feel at home.”
“Like a museum to put humans on display?” asked the guard, a little offended.
“More like an ark, in case Earth didn’t survive until we returned. A few of us were worried that the global economy would implode during that twenty years, or another stupid war would make the place uninhabitable.”
The guard nodded. “We had a few close calls. After the war, companies had to rebuild our communications infrastructure. Now, any nation has the right to inspect anything launched into orbit so we don’t all have weapons hanging over our heads. Technology is also a lot greener than when you guys left.”
“Nanofabricators in every home?”
“No, those are for the military,” Onesemo replied.
“Why so few companies in space?”
“The expense to rebuild was so high that we had to guarantee profits for a few years to the five companies who financed the new global net.” Onesemo changed topics abruptly. “So you’re saying the crew came back to save Earth?”
Stu snorted. “Yeah! Why else would we stick around after you murdered so many of us? Oops. Commander Zeiss didn’t want me sharing any of that information until we have an agreement that you won’t kill or imprison the rest of us.”
“Why would you think that?” Onesemo asked.
“Duh! You shot down both the shuttle and my escape pod,” Stu replied. Then he tasted flower petals and vowed not to give away any more information about Sanctuary. “This is all ancient history. Give me an example of a recent crisis.”
“The Durum Wheat Shortage. Without hard wheat, they couldn’t make semolina for pasta. Most of the world uses either rice or pasta as their cheapest staple. Without pasta as a food source, a lot of people went hungry worldwide.”
A man in military uniform burst through the door with a hypodermic stick in hand.
“Hold him still. Boss said we had to give him a little painkiller.”
“Whoa,” Stu said, blocking with his cuff. Because of the chains, he had to lift his feet off the floor to do so. “I have allergies to—”
“Maybe—” Onesemo began.
The newcomer held Stu’s cuff with one hand and shoved the stick against his bared bicep with the other. The injector emptied with a hiss.
“Poison!” Stu shouted.
Rayburn ducked into the now-crowded room to hiss, “Shut up! They can hear you.” The pale official pulled out the promised strip of duct tape and applied it. When Stu squealed at the top of his lungs, the man activated the shock feature of the cuffs to knock the wind out of him.
“A little extreme,” Onesemo said. “He was cooperating.”
His boss shook a finger at the guard, “As soon as we get through this preliminary hearing, we can take him back and shove him into another interrogation chair. He’ll talk this time.”
“Sir, with all due respect, he wants to tell his side, but they ordered him not to say certain things until we stop trying to kill him,” Onesemo whispered.
Rayburn glared at the guard. “Maintaining our custody of this asset gives the US exclusive access to Sanctuary intel.”
Stu coughed, an operation made difficult by the gag. He was sweaty and woozy.
Onesemo tried one last time. “He looks pale. If he throws up with that gag on, he could die.”
The head spook hissed, “So what? That’s better than letting foreign operatives like Mori’s techs get their hands on him. You’re relieved of duty. The corpsman and I will stand guard until the preliminary hearing is over.”
The empath saluted and marched out of the holding cell and toward the courtroom.
****
Minutes later, the bailiff and several US Marshals knocked on the door to the cell. “Sir, the judge is ready.”
Stu coughed more frequently, and his nose whistled as he breathed uncomfortably. White spots danced across his vision. He tried to point to the bump on his arm and grunt, but Rayburn shocked him into silence before ripping the tape off. Damn that hurt the lips.
They practically carried him in front of the bench.
The judge’s dark robes couldn’t hide the extra forty kilos of weight he carried on his wide frame. What little hair he had was heavily grayed. Worse, his stern face was set in a frown. “Young man, you admit to consorting with known thieves, the crew of Ascension. However, your defense team has argued that not only were you unborn during the crimes, but that the statute of limitations has expired on nearly every charge.”
When the judge pointed to the defense side of the aisle, Stu swiveled his gaze to look. A dozen men in suits sat in his corner, together with a trifold screen like the one Yuki used to dress behind.
The judge droned on, but Stu focused his blurry vision on the screen. “During your landing, you carelessly endangered the lives of millions of civilians, but the majority of the crimes took place outside the one-mile boundary in international waters where I have no jurisdiction. The charges of treason and crimes against humanity require a grand jury, which can take up to eighteen months.”
Stu’s forehead tingled as he closed his eyes and opened to the Collective Unconscious. Five members of the audience were active, showing up as little points of light. However, the lone woman behind the screen was a breathtaking aurora borealis of talent.
“Are you listening?” the judge snapped.
Bobbling his head in the bench’s direction, Stu had trouble forming words. “Sir, need … doctor.”
Waving his right hand, the judge said, “So I’ve heard. A specialist is on the way. Your twenty lesser charges are dismissed due to prosecutorial misconduct. Your guard, Mr. Onesemo came forward earlier—”
“Your honor,” Rayburn objected. “Onesemo is the subject of disciplinary action and is attempting to—”
The judge slammed his gavel down. “Don’t interrupt me to lie. Open your mouth again, and I’ll jail you for contempt. As I was saying, Mr. Onesemo came forward to plead for medical assistance for the accused. Against his wishes we pressed him into testimony to confirm video evidence presented by the Chinese government. They claim it was seized as part of a corporate espionage scandal and turned over to the defense because of the heinous nature of the content.”
The spy drone had been Chinese. They turned over the footage to get me released. Why? Are they going to try to kill me next? Stu stopped trying to hold back the churning in his stomach and threw up into the nearest trash can. As he knelt to hug the bin, his bloody leg bandage became visible.
The judge growled. “Because of imminent danger to his life, Mr. Llewellyn is being remanded into the custody of his legal team until the grand jury hearings commence. Fortune Enterprises has posted a bond of twenty million dollars, with the assurance that the accused will not leave the metroplex until his legal matters are resolved.”
Desperate, Rayburn approached the bench. “Your honor, without federal custody, the enemy combatant could still flee or be kidnapped at any time.”
The judge cocked his head. “With the armada of news bots outside, I have no doubt the media will keep him honest. To ease your mind, I will allow one of your soldiers to accompany the accused. Since Mr. Onesemo is the sole member of your team to express concern for the safe
ty of the suspect, he is the only soldier I will allow within fifty yards of him outside this courtroom. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
A paramedic with a gurney appeared at the door. The judge acknowledged her presence and tapped the gavel a final time. “Dismissed. Suspect may be treated for his injuries.”
While the paramedic worked on Stu and asked questions, the woman with the golden empath badge stepped from behind the privacy shield and rushed to Stu’s side. She was so perfect that he stopped breathing for a moment. “I’m Laura, the one in charge of your defense team. You’re going to be okay. We won’t let them torture you anymore.” Her captivating brown eyes were wide with concern. Soothing fingers stroked his forehead.
On impulse, he held up his cuffed hands to touch her. “Someone get these restraints off him!” she ordered.
Then, one of her soft, pale hands clasped his. At the contact, her concern washed over him, causing him to breathe faster. Gazing into her eyes this way was more arousing than a beach full of bikinis had been. I have to find out more about her and convince her to like me before this grand jury distraction is over. She belongs in Sanctuary.
Chapter 9 – First Blush
Laura stood at the young man’s side as a second paramedic arrived. Onesemo provided the empty painkiller syringe. She used her phone to scan him for weapons and discovered that as an interrogation specialist, his badge was an active recording device. That’s why the judge believed him. A little research informed her that while on duty, Onesemo couldn’t shut the recorder off. I can use this to lead the opposition wherever I want.
The paramedics read off symptoms and the dosage to a doctor on the courthouse wall screen. Together they counteracted the drug. The patient’s breathing eased, but he remained groggy. The doctor said, “This man should be admitted overnight to the hospital for observation.”
Laura said, “That’s a good idea. We can collect evidence.”
“Of what?” asked Onesemo. “That he was abused?”
“No, that he is who he claims,” she explained. Over the wall link, she said, “We’d like a consultation with Dr. Maurier.”
“I doubt the head of the Active medicine section wants to be disturbed on a weekend,” the doctor replied.
Laura waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, she’s worked with me before. She’ll do this as a favor.” She held up her Mori Biogenetics credentials and explained the situation. The doctor restricted her to the passenger seat of the ambulance but allowed her to ride along. From there, Laura could keep an eye on both the ambassador and his new bodyguard.
Four minutes later, as they sped toward the hospital, Lena Maurier phoned her. The doctor wore gardening gloves and a lab coat inside an immaculate greenhouse. Her short, sandy hair and melodic accent betrayed her Swedish origins. “Laura, what do you need?”
“To document the exact talents that this patient has. We could also use a bone-density scan and any other test you can think of to prove Ambassador Llewellyn has lived off-planet his entire life.”
The doctor mused for a moment. “We could test for Cesium 137. That’s how scientists validate wines bottled before the atomic bomb was dropped. While we examine him, he should be kept in quarantine. We don’t know what mutations he has or what might harm him.” She whispered to herself, “This is so exciting. I’ll be able to write several papers on him.”
The phone screen went dark except for the map to the hospital and the ETA counter.
Stu removed his oxygen mask. “They have my badge from my spacesuit—cryptographically signed from Ascension’s security computer.”
Laura shrugged. “Over the last twenty years, with advances in quantum computers, that could be forged. Maybe that’s why you waited until now to appear, because that’s how long the key took to crack.”
“The armor, too?”
“Fortune makes two of everything before a big mission,” Onesemo explained. “You could have stolen the original from the Ascension Museum in Wales before your splashdown.”
“Then why keep me in jail?”
Onesemo said, “Look, you obviously believe what you’re saying, but we can’t prove it yet. All I know for certain is that you had astronaut training and know a lot about the crew.”
“My DNA will show who my parents are.”
“However, that doesn’t mean you were conceived in space,” Laura said, facing Onesemo’s badge so it could hear every word. “Some of the astronauts had bio samples taken to a fertility clinic at a UN base in Antarctica in case an accident in space killed them or made them sterile. You could have been cooked up in a test tube at that lab.”
“I’m obligated to warn you that as a law enforcement officer appointed by the court, anything you say in my presence may be reported to the grand jury,” Onesemo said grimly.
I’m counting on it. “These are all theories that any prosecutor worth his salt would need to determine this man’s true identity.”
“You make it sound like I could be some huge hoax, twenty years in the making. Who could do that?”
“The head of Mori Electronics and Biogenetics for one,” Laura replied. She took fiendish glee in implicating the old bastard who had sent her.
Stu nodded. “I’ve heard of him. He and his daughter tried to fry Zeiss’ brain.” When Laura narrowed her eyes in puzzlement, he added, “The time they destroyed Sirius Academy.”
Onesemo nodded. “If anyone could pull it off, Mori could. That prosecutor should tag any Sanctuary-related files the old man has accessed since the astronauts landed.”
Receiving a call from Dr. Maurier, the paramedic tore off Stu’s shirt.
“Hey!” Stu complained. “What is this? Everywhere I go on this planet, people want my clothes.”
“Sorry, sir. Doc says we have to bag your garments as biohazard and prep you for a sterile environment.”
Laura tried to calm the patient. “Relax. They reek of vomit splatter. You’ll wear a fashionable gown for your tests, and I’ll buy you a nice suit so you’ll be presentable in court tomorrow.” Her gaze lingered on his muscles—strictly to gauge his measurements.
The moment the ambulance unloaded at the hospital, Onesemo stepped aside to call someone on his sleeve.
Laura tried to accompany the stretcher inside, but the paramedic stopped her. “Ma’am, since you’re not related, we can’t allow you past this point. You’ll have to wait until visiting hours.”
Stu said, “She’s my lawyer. I need her.”
She held up a hand. “It’s fine. I haven’t even unpacked my suitcases, and I have a lot of motions to file before tonight. Plus, I have to tuck my mother in.”
“You take care of your mother?” Stu said. “You’re such a good person. When this is all over, you’ll have to tell me how I can thank you.”
Laura had a few ideas on that topic. “Just get well. Farewell for now.” She kissed him on the forehead. The mingling of their auras tingled pleasantly. He likes me.
She could feel his eyes on her as she turned toward the curb to meet up with her security team.
****
At the corporate apartments, Laura dashed past her mother and into her bedroom, where she stripped off her skirt and shoes. “Workout clothes are in this closet, right?”
Her mother shut off the glasses that were reading a book aloud to her. “Why not rest, Tsukiko?” That was Laura’s pet name, what the moon goddess Kaguya of Japanese mythology had named her own daughter. “I know you didn’t sleep well on the flight in.”
Laura shook her head, selecting suitable martial-arts garb. Everything in this closet was her size, a duplicate of clothing that she wore often in Tokyo. “I’ll stay up until eleven local time. I need to adjust my internal clock. Could you find me a sparring partner?”
“Certainly.” Her mother handed her a sports bra. “What’s wrong?”
“Exercise helps me think,” Laura replied. “Besides, this case is a dangerous one. We may have to defend ourselves.”
“He’s so sweet. He believes the best of me,” Laura said, gazing wistfully out her balcony window as she changed. “He has no clue who I am.”
“He must be from another world. Play the innocent with him. Let him seduce you.”
Laura groaned. “He’ll take forever to make his move. You heard those tapes about waiting till he’s married.”
“Hmph. The harder they are, the sooner they fall. If he thinks it’s his idea, he’ll trust you unconditionally.”
Laura lowered her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she wanted victory on those terms. But if I don’t take a sample, someone else will make him bleed. At least he’ll have a smile on his face when I’m done.
Chapter 10 – Observation
Upstairs, after the legal team departed, a solidly-built man wandered into the hall to speak to the nurse at the desk. With the short hair, impeccable suit, and compulsive scanning of his surroundings, he could have passed for Secret Service. Onesemo stiffened. “Heads up. This guy has bone-conduction implants for comms, virtual-reality sunglasses, two smartgun holsters, and high-end body armor concealed under his suit.”
Stu checked, and the visitor’s aura wasn’t Active. “Chill. He’s not an Override. Why waste all that hardware on a normal?”
“Management. Grunts like me wear out fast. This guy had to be really good to compete, though, so don’t discount him.”
After donning a surgical mask and gloves, the armed man strode into the hospital room with the air of a party host greeting guests. “Luca Maurier. I’m the head of Fortune security. My wife, Lena, will be taking care of you this weekend. We’ve sealed off this ward tighter than a gnat’s ass.”
Stu shook his hand. “That means I can catch a nap before the trial.”
“The grand jury won’t convene until Monday, but take advantage of the down time. Nobody will be making another attempt on your life while I have anything to say about it.”
