by Scott Rhine
She smiled. “My parents were.”
“You aren’t prejudiced against me because of my English heritage?” Stu asked.
“No.”
“Hmm … I didn’t hear a ‘sir.’ There must be another reason you don’t respect me,” Stu mused. “Did you apply to become a space pilot?”
“Yes, but they only take five applicants a year.”
Stu frowned. “Oh, that old rivalry. You weren’t good enough, so star pilots are all assholes.”
“Not all, sir. Just the ones I’ve met.” She won the jury over.
“So my job wouldn’t be grounds for you to refuse a drink with me later?”
“I don’t drink with murderers.”
“Ouch. Perjury already.”
“What?” the young woman objected.
“Tell me who I murdered, and I’ll withdraw the charge.”
“Nobody yet, because we stopped you.”
“Another confused psychic,” Stu said. “We should make her wear a wizard’s hat instead of a uniform. Captain Enright, on what grounds did you testify that I carried an Icarus device?”
“You blew up the cloud.”
“Did you see a field?”
Enright raised a finger, ready for the question. “No, but the explosion caused a flameout in my jet, and I had to eject. The cloud was there before you entered and gone after. Ergo, you blew it up.”
Stu smiled. “I’ve always wanted a date with a woman who can use the word ‘ergo’ in conversation.”
“Screw you.”
“Hostile witness,” Stu announced.
The prosecutor raised his eyebrows. “Stay relevant.”
“Wasn’t ejecting terribly irresponsible of you? LA is one of the largest, most densely populated regions on the planet, and you launched your plane at them like a missile.”
She paled. “Any pilot would have done the same.”
“I didn’t.” Stu let that statement steep for a moment in the room. “When you shot out my thrusters and most of my fuel in an illegal attempt to murder me, I could have bailed. Because of the obvious danger to civilians, I kept fighting to land the craft.”
“You needed to get your bomb closer,” she insisted.
“If you keep testifying to things you have no knowledge of, I will have you jailed.”
Parrish interrupted. “Ambassador, I’m the only one who can threaten here.”
“An interesting job description.” When the prosecutor opened his mouth to object further, Stu raised his hands. “I’ll cut to the chase. Captain Enright, for a craft going my speed, could I have survived impact.”
“Probably not.”
“So by any reasonable standard, I had to do what?”
“Slow down,” she replied. “But endangering the coast with an Icarus field was not the answer.”
“How big was this alleged Icarus field?”
Unsure, the woman said, “I’m not an expert.”
“I am. A fully established field is at least ten meters across. A field capable of destroying LA would be over a hundred across. Just substitute the word yards for meters. Does that sound right?”
“I suppose. Mr. Parrish?” she said, glancing at the prosecutor.
The prosecutor flipped through several screens of information before decreeing. “Close enough. So stipulated.”
“How big was my craft?”
“I don’t know.”
“Guess from your radar image.”
“A small car.”
Definitely prepped. They read all my testimony to her. “So my ass would have been how many meters from the field?”
“Four to eight feet.”
“The cloud was made of what, Captain?”
“Water.”
“I’m mostly water, too. Why didn’t I explode one meter away?”
“I don’t know.”
“If I admitted that the fields were smaller, would that solve the problem?”
“Yes.”
“Then by your own testimony, I didn’t have an Icarus field,” he concluded.
“But you made the cloud explode.”
“That I will agree to, but FAA rules state that a pilot making an emergency crash landing is liable to the land owner. Who owns that cloud?”
“Screw. You.”
“Who did I hurt?”
“My plane!”
“Which a better pilot who wasn’t part of a conspiracy could have saved.”
Enright jumped out of her chair and shook a fist at Stu. “You and me, right now.”
Two bailiffs had to hold the woman back.
Stu taunted her again. “If you still had your sidearm, you’d use it, wouldn’t you?”
“Damn straight!”
Turning to the jury, Stu asked, “Which of us do you think behaves more like a murderer?”
After excusing the second witness, Stu sat on his table again. “How would you guys like to get home early for dinner? Because I can tell you how the final supposed witness is going to go. He’s going to say that the moiré patterns on my cracked windshield could only be caused by an Icarus field. I’m going to point out that no established Icarus field can shut down in less than thirty minutes. How could I have used an Icarus device on the cloud without it exploding in the ocean a minute later?” Stu let the jury ponder this for a few moments before answering. “Because the type of field I employed lasted less than a millisecond, like the spark plug in one of your gasoline engines. An Icarus field is the equivalent of an atomic weapon. If you jail me for igniting a spark plug, then every car driver in LA has to be arrested too. I apologize for using the emergency brakes, but I did so to save lives.”
Walking toward the door, Stu said, “I’m done with this farce. Torture me again if you’re going to, but be honest with yourselves about your motives. Admit who the real killers are.”
Before dinner, the jury found insufficient evidence to charge Stewart Llewellyn and dismissed the case.
Chapter 16 – Joining the Circus
Red-eyed from crying, Laura strode from her corporate jet toward the Dublin airport. About halfway to the terminal, she spotted the other Fortune jet with a staircase leading up to its open door. Because customs took so long, she decided to avoid passing through twice. Maybe the pilot can put me in contact with Hans. He’s not answering his link.
When she flashed her ID, the steward at the bottom of the steps escorted her inside. The entire crew of Ballbusters, except Artemis, was incognito. Laura laughed for the first time in days. “Let me guess: the customs agent recognized Artemis and said something that offended her.”
The huntress grunted an obscenity.
Laura said, “Didn’t you already do a show from this place? The chief of police claimed the women in that episode weren’t raped because they’d been drinking.”
“And he refused to be shamed by our airing of the tape,” Artemis complained. “It’s worse than that Italian judge who ruled that the woman couldn’t have been raped because her pants were too tight for the man to remove without help.”
Hans, disguised in glasses and a lab coat, said, “We could have talked our way through for the rape-kit show as a medical-equipment sales team. If you’d just worn the damn burka and let me interpret for you—”
Artemis flipped him off.
Grant Thisbe, the Devil’s Advocate, said, “The local officials are claiming that the DNA equipment we brought isn’t suitable for import for police use because it’s not properly labeled in both Celtic and English. The whole episode is ruined. We wasted a week of planning and background. It’s a cluster—” Glancing at Sif, he paused in his profanity.
With surprising timidity, Laura whispered, “Maybe we could help each other.”
“You want a favor?” Artemis guessed.
“It’ll boost your ratings,” Laura assured.
Several crew members made raspberries and heckled. Hans stopped them. “Ms. Zeiss has been a very generous sponsor. We should do her the honor of hearing out
her request.”
“Whore,” Artemis shouted. “Sellout!”
The insults struck Laura like a dagger. She began crying anew.
The nurse, Evangeline, elbowed Artemis on the way by to comfort Mori’s granddaughter. “Now see what you’ve done, you big bully.”
“I meant Hans, the big, corporate kiss-ass,” Artemis said.
Grant patted the director on the back. “Hey, at least she calls you a big prick.”
This made Laura giggle. “Stop it, you guys. I’m serious. I screwed something up badly, and I need your help.”
People threw wadded-up barf bags at Artemis until she said, “Fine. What did you do?”
“I offended a unicorn,” she replied, sitting on the edge of a seat. “This guy was home-schooled by his mom and a dozen astronauts for eighteen years. He’s the sweetest, most earnest freak you’ll ever meet, and he’d be perfect for your show.”
“Astronaut?” asked Grant. “The astronaut? Ambassador Llewellyn?”
Nodding, Laura said, “He wants to make a difference like you do … and see the world. His membership on your panel could boost ratings by 10 percent. Governments watch his offhand speeches, hoping to learn something about Sanctuary.
“The UN won’t have the hearing on Sanctuary’s request to be recognized as a nation for at least another three weeks. I need you all to help keep him alive until then.” She looked down. “For me.”
With an arm around Laura, Evangeline asked, “What did you do to him, hon’?”
Laura covered her face. “Mostly, I gave him mono or something … from another guy.”
“Ooo,” Artemis said with a wicked smile. “In bed, together?”
“No. He refuses to have sex with anyone but the woman he marries,” Laura said.
“You’re joking,” Artemis said.
This time, Grant elbowed the huntress. “We’d be glad to help. It’s a sound business decision.”
Several others, including the director, agreed.
“Where can we find him?” asked Artemis, resigned.
“Today he’s visiting the Grand Canyon and Hoover Dam. Tomorrow afternoon, he’ll be at the San Diego Zoo. He’s never seen animals in captivity before.” Laura blotted at her eyelids. “I wish I could be there to cushion the blow about the rhinos.”
Evangeline patted Laura’s back, glaring at her girlfriend for starting the waterworks again. “It’s okay, girl. We’ll protect him. Maybe we’ll even arrange for the two of you to run into each other again.”
“You think that would be possible?” Laura asked.
Grant gazed at Sif from across the plane. “You have to hold out hope.”
Artemis whispered into Hans’ ear. “Zeiss could be manipulating us all with Empathy. Even I want to freaking cry, and that never happens.”
Hans sighed. “I’ll call Ms. Hollis and ask permission.” He texted the LA number with the subject line Stewart Llewellyn Ride Along.
“It may take a few hours or even days before she replies. Mira’s a busy—” His cuff dinged, and he blinked at the reply. “Board-level authorization. The Golden Goose approved the idea. Because he is a significant stockholder and asset of Fortune Enterprises, this kid is our new priority.”
Laura wrinkled her brow at the stockholder comment and did a subtle search on the topic.
The CEO’s former bodyguard, Freya, spoke. “If that bitch thinks we’re going to drop everything and cater to some tourist, she is sadly—”
Hans interrupted, “She’s offered us carte blanche.”
“I’ve always wanted to meet a man from outer space,” Freya finished.
“Whore. Sellout,” Hans said with a chuckle.
Freya punched him in the shoulder. “I won’t be able to hear your jealous whining in the soundproof Mercedes I’ll be renting to drive to the zoo.”
Reading her wrist, Laura discovered something her grandfather had neglected to mention. The man he had ordered her to sleep with and offend possessed her birthright. Nobody had told her that Conrad Zeiss had willed his share of Fortune Enterprises to any child born after his departure. The company bylaws even had a name for the bundle used to break ties—the conscience vote. Damn the old man. He’s controlled billions in my name for years. When Laura had signed her employment contract, she had agreed to allow Tetsuo Mori to vote inherited shares in exchange for her free room and board, medical treatment, transportation, and bodyguards. I thought those shares were Mom’s measly stock options. This is 2 percent of the most profitable company on the planet.
According to the media, Stewart now held those shares instead. After her promiscuity had endangered his life, the crew of Sanctuary wouldn’t return those shares to her keeping. By sending her on this mission, Mori had prevented her from ever holding her rightful power and wealth. She tried to work out a way that she could regain control of her own legacy. According to the will, I inherited everything when Dad was declared dead. Even if he’s still alive, as a convicted criminal, he’s not allowed to profit from his crimes. Conrad Zeiss didn’t have the legal right to assign those shares to Stewart. I could have Stewart’s proxy invalidated before the next board meeting. A quick search of public court filings revealed that her grandfather had already filed the very same paperwork.
As an afterthought, Laura asked the Ballbusters crew, “Do you think I could get a job on the crew and a disguise so I could be near him?”
Evangeline said, “Oh, honey. You’ve got it bad.” She considered for a moment. “It has to look like he was sucked into a sting accidentally. You know, like when we run morality checks on politicians and off-duty cops. We’ll film a day of the same sting in other bars to shore up our alibi.”
“How do we accidentally meet him at the zoo?”
The nurse gave her best innocent look. “The Naval Medical Center and several tourist attractions are also in Balboa Park. The Tar Pit bar has a VIP party room where you can smoke cigars.”
Hans said, “Great. We’ll run the standard gag where some guy coerces an extremely drunk woman into leaving with him. She’ll say no several times, but the actor will insist. We’ll record Stewart’s reaction to the situation and see if he intervenes to prevent the rape. Laura, you can come along, but we’ll need to change your look.”
Plucking her brown contacts out, Laura revealed her natural blue eyes. “How’s this?”
“Wow,” Evangeline said. “Quite a start.”
“Why do you need contacts?” asked Hans.
“They’re designed to interface with an electron microscope when I check DNA splices.”
“Sounds like you’ll fit in fine with a techie disguise,” Evangeline said. “We’ll dye your hair blonde and trim it to make you look even yummier. Maybe we can get him to fall for you without knowing you have billions.”
Grant shook his head. “If he liked you enough to kiss you, he’ll still recognize you. The makeup team will need to work you over. We may even want to film the transformation.”
Laura grinned impishly. “This sounds like a Shakespeare play.” She stepped to the door. “I’ll bring my mom and the luggage over. Thank you so much!”
In a manner of minutes, she was clipping her seatbelt on the Ballbusters plane, waiting to return to the US.
****
The long flight gave the crew plenty of time to film Laura’s makeover. Jealous of the attention Evangeline was lavishing on the event, Artemis sulked in her bunk, refusing to participate. After the hair dresser gave Laura a clip and a new color, the special-effects man tucked subtle implants into her mouth to change the contour of her cheeks. “These are Freya’s spare shapers. Holy crap, you could pass for her daughter.”
Freya glared at the stylist. “I’m not that old.”
Ever the diplomat, Hans switched topics. “She needs a stage name.”
Seeing her bold, new look, Laura used her middle name. “Salome.”
Evangeline laughed. “What? You belly dance?”
“I’ve been professionally
trained,” she replied. Well enough to overcome any man’s resolve.
Kaguya provided the crown jewel of the disguise. As a former musician and inventor of voice sculpting, she gave her daughter a choker necklace, plus a module for her back molar implants. The electronic interference blurred the edges of Laura’s voice, giving her what the team called a “whiskey edge.”
“Very sexy,” Evangeline said, with a hint of lust.
Kaguya warned, “If you’re within a meter, someone who knows you might be able to detect the modification.”
Evangeline chuckled throatily. “Honey, if that boy gets within a meter, she’s not going to be talking. He’ll be hooked.”
Chapter 17 – Zoo
At the Grand Canyon, Stu revealed photos of the surface of Labyrinth to the press. He staged his press conference like a political campaign. The teaser data seemed to say, “Vote to recognize us as a country, and all this knowledge could be yours.” In addition to the Sanctuary photos, he posted pictures of himself posing with park rangers in front of the canyon. He also invited a Hopi Indian tracker to visit the biosphere. He ended that day’s blog entry with a plea for citizens to support and preserve Earth’s parks. High-end Nevada housing developments were already encroaching on the western edge of the vast landmark.
Sunday morning, Stu toured studios in Hollywood. There, he spoke with voice actors and artists from around the world. The fact that the famous Sojiro had tutored him in art made Stu more popular than being a star pilot. “I can show you some of his portfolio.” As in the previous two days, he pulled out a handful of interesting photos from the memory device. “I can’t show you the manga series. His old publisher is out of business, and I’m still sorting out the legal issues. These are shots I can share publicly. The first four came from the chapel he designed for our village. Here’s the action mural he drew for my bedroom wall—Gravity Boy.”
The art director made a large bid for the design on the spot.
Onesemo coughed to hide an involuntary, “Damn.”
“I don’t know,” Stu hedged. “The character was based on my adventures in the habitat. My favorite literary character as a child was Curious George. That got me into a lot of trouble.”
