The soldiers looked sheepishly at each other, or at the ground, or into the distance, anywhere but at Corporal Doyle. He'd made the impression he wanted to make. Now to see if he could live up to it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"Are you crazy?" Hank Tuit shouted. "Not only no, but hell no!" The vidscreen went dead.
Conorado turned to Aldo and shrugged. "I tried."
"It's late. Call him back in the morning. Give him the night to think it over," Heintges suggested.
The vidscreen beeped. It was Tuit calling back. "Lewis, are you serious?"
"Yes, Hank. I want you in the courtroom with Aldo. I want somebody with me I can trust to support me. This thing could get ugly. I need a friend with me."
"Lew, I've sat on court-martials before, but never in civil court with professional shysters. Hell, man, I just lost my ship! You want me to ‘stand by’ you? I can't even keep my command, much less help you out in a court of law!"
"Captain Tuit," Heintges broke in, "the trial starts tomorrow. I'm going to ask for a continuance until you can be cleared to go into court with us. I also want to subpoena other witnesses. All this will take a few days. Will you be available? Look, sir—"
"Call me Hank."
"Okay, Hank; call me Aldo. Hank, Lew's right. Come on with us. I'll do all the finagling, prepare the briefs, and plead the case, all the lawyerly stuff. But you can provide moral support that I can't. Besides, as we get going, you might be surprised. Lew's told me about you. I think you and Judge Epstein might hit it off. He's a man of few words but they're to the point, like yours."
"I'm a man of no words," Tuit answered. "But, well, Sewall's in an uproar just now so I suppose it'll be some time before they give me another assignment, if they give me another one. All right. What do I do now?"
"Just wait until we get back to you. As I said, it'll take a few days, but with your background, a clearance should be no problem. After court tomorrow I'll see the staff judge advocate and request you be assigned to the case as Lew's personal attorney. It's irregular, but so is this whole damned case. I'll ask first off that the case be dismissed. I've read the BHHEI charter and it seems to me it's clear that experimentation on sentient alien beings is prohibited. If that doesn't work, I'll ask for a continuance. The other side's had months to prepare its case. I only today met Lew, and haven't yet had a chance to interview his witnesses. I'm sure Judge Epstein will give us all the time we need.
"And Hank, remember, Lew is being charged with a very serious crime, a violation of Title 18 of the Confederation Code—of interfering with and disrupting a scientific investigation being conducted by an agency of the government. The maximum penalty is life in prison. If Lew is found guilty, Hoxey's lawyers will ask for the maximum. No matter what he gets, if Lew's found guilty, that's the end of his career. If he wants you on his team, he deserves you."
"Very good."
"Hank?" Conorado leaned into the screen. "Here's lookin' at you!" he raised a schooner of ale and toasted Tuit's image.
"Lew, you're living too damned good for a mere jarhead officer!"
Camp Darby was an army installation. Back when humanity was confined to one world, it had been used as a transmitter facility for communications from the Chief of Staff to army units worldwide. But with the advent of the Beam drive and the interstellar deployment of army units, the camp's role had greatly diminished and it came to be used as a housing area and a morale and welfare center for army personnel stationed in and around Fargo. The post commander, an army colonel, had no idea of the case brought against Conorado, but he'd been ordered to cooperate fully with the Ministry of Justice, so he spared no effort to accommodate his guests.
The communications facility, which had not been used in years and was scheduled for conversion to a commissary store, was temporarily converted into a courtroom. Since the hearings would be closed, military police were posted inside the main entrance and outside the door to the judge's chambers, but not outside the building, so as to draw as little attention to the proceedings as possible. Aldo Heintges advised Conorado to wear civilian clothes, not his uniform.
The witnesses would wait in a large anteroom until called by the lone bailiff who'd been cleared to officiate at the proceedings. He would also be the recorder and clerk of the court, sitting in a corner of the judge's chambers where he'd operate a vid unit, mark exhibits, and escort and swear witnesses as they were called.
Conorado, Heintges, General Cazombi, and Agent Nast sat on one side of the anteroom. The two officers were in their dress uniforms. Hoxey, her two lawyers, and several members of her shift—including the unctuous and cowering Dannul Graag, Hoxey's administration officer, and the supercilious Dr. B. Proteus Gurselfanks, her laryngopathologist—sat on the other side. Dr. Omer Abraham, C Shift's chief scientist, was there too. He nodded surreptitiously at Conorado and then quickly looked away in embarrassment. "There's our chief witness for the defense," Conorado whispered to Heintges.
But Conorado was shocked to see Hoxey again. She had aged. Still, she stared at him with burning eyes. Clearly, her attitude was that he had thwarted her and must suffer for it.
"Plaintiff, respondent, and respective counsel, please enter the judge's chambers," the bailiff announced, holding open the door to Judge Epstein's makeshift chambers.
"We won't be more than ten minutes," Heintges whispered to Cazombi and Nast. "Stay out of trouble while we're in there. We'll all have lunch together when the judge dismisses us for the day."
Judge Epstein sat behind a battered old desk. He was dressed in casual street clothes. A group of chairs was arranged on each side of the room for the respective parties to the case. "All right, this court is now in session," Epstein said. "Be seated." He gestured at the chairs. "Ladies and gentlemen, this case is most unusual, and as you all know, classified ultrasecret, although I don't understand for one goddamned minute why." He glared at the lawyers. "Now I don't want this thing to drag on and on, understand? Make your pleadings, present your evidence and witnesses, and conduct your examinations with dispatch. Nobody's watching, there are no reputations to be made here, and I've seen it all so don't try to impress me. All right, who's who here?"
The lawyers introduced themselves.
"Okay. How do you plead, Captain Conorado?" the judge asked.
Conorado stood. "Not guilty, Your Honor."
"Your Honor..." Heintges stood. "We ask that you dismiss this case. I introduce as Exhibit A the Bureau of Human Habitability Exploration and Investigation charter. Section 108-2 clearly states that vivisection of sentient alien beings is prohibited."
"Your Honor..." Hoc Vinces jumped to his feet. "Defense is referring to paragraph 22b of Section 108-2. It is our contention that it does not specifically and categorically prohibit medical and scientific examination of alien beings, sentient or otherwise. It does authorize examinations."
"Your Honor, the word used in the charter is ‘examination,’" Heintges said. "Examining a specimen of any kind is different from experimenting on one, especially one that is sentient."
Judge Epstein studied the charter for a while. He sighed and addressed Heintges. "Consul, I find the wording vague and open to interpretation. Motion denied."
"Then, Your Honor, I ask the court for a continuance."
Epstein looked annoyed. "Why?"
"I have not had a chance to prepare my witnesses, Your Honor. And I plan to subpoena more witnesses. I haven't had sufficient time to do that. Besides, Captain Conorado only arrived here yesterday. And he has asked for another person to join us as coconsul. It'll take some time to get him cleared."
The woman sitting with Hoxey—her coconsul Drellia Fortescue—whispered something to Hoc Vinces and stood up. "We object, Your Honor!" Hoxey's lawyers were extremely well-dressed. Fortescue was slightly overweight, blond but frumpy, yet her voice was deep and sexy; Vinces was thin and dark-haired, clean-shaven, but his beard, which would have been thick and black if he'd let it grow, gave his cheeks a
permanently bluish, four o'clock tinge.
"These other witnesses include the former director of our agency. Lieutenant Heintges is grasping at straws here," Fortescue continued, "trying every tactic he can to delay this court from getting down to its appointed duty."
"Well, counsel, seems to me defense's request is reasonable enough," Judge Epstein responded. "Balls of fire, Drellia, why wasn't Heintges given the time he needs to prepare his case anyway? Am I dealing with amateurs here?"
"Sir, plaintiff is not well. We feel the continuation of this case for any reason would be detrimental to her health. Besides, the facts in this case are very simple. The defense does not need extra time to prepare his witnesses. And frankly, Your Honor, the defense's request to add another person to his team just seems to us a ploy to further delay the proceedings."
"What's wrong with your client?"
Fortescue looked sympathetically at Hoxey, who slumped in her chair, glowering at Conorado. "Dr. Hoxey is suffering from exhaustion, Your Honor. The preparation for this trial, not to mention the traumatic events that the respondent precipitated at Avionia Station, have severely undermined her health."
"Well, Dr. Hoxey, are you healthy enough to sit through this trial?" Epstein asked.
Hoxey rose to her feet. Conorado was surprised to see that she had to lean on the table for support. "Yes, Your Honor," she rasped.
"Lieutenant?"
"Your Honor, Captain Conorado is charged with a very serious crime," Heintges said. "His entire life is at stake here. I must point out that he has spent his entire adult life defending the citizens of this Confederation and—"
"Captain Conorado," Judge Epstein interrupted, "I've read your file. I wouldn't object if my own son were to serve under an officer like you. But," he addressed Heintges, "come to the point."
"He deserves every chance to defend himself. My respected colleagues," Heintges nodded at Vinces and Fortescue, "have had plenty of time to prepare, while I have not. And I would respectfully add, sir, that the facts in this case are not as simple as Ms. Fortescue implies they are."
"Who's your cocounsel going to be, Lieutenant? Anybody I know?"
"A retired navy commander, sir, named Henry Tuit."
Judge Epstein's eyebrows arched in surprise and Vinces laughed outright. Vinces stood up. "Your Honor, this is a farce! Tuit is the man who just lost a valuable cargo ship. Only a crazy man would ask a fool like that to—"
"Enough of that! Is this Tuit the same man who's been in the news recently?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"And your client wishes this man to join him as counsel?"
"Yes, Your Honor, as is his right."
"I know, I know. How long will it take to get him cleared?"
"Your Honor, he's a former navy officer who had the highest clearances. I will ask the staff judge advocate to hurry up the clearance process. I would ask the court for five days, no more. I also ask the court to grant a travel dispensation for my client. I want him to accompany me to the staff judge advocate's office this morning."
Judge Epstein drummed his fingers on his desk. "Okay. Bailiff, call in the witnesses." The little room was severely crowded by the time everyone had crowded in. "I am going to adjourn this court to give the defense more time to prepare. I am not going to sequester you, although I understand, Captain Conorado, that your military superiors have in effect restricted you to the confines of Camp Darby for the duration of this trial. But I remind you all about the rules of secrecy that cover these proceedings. You all know what they entail, so I don't have to enjoin you to discuss these hearings with no one but your counsel." He slammed his fist down on the desktop. "This court is now adjourned until 0700 hours next Thursday."
Filing out of the judge's chambers, Hoxey stumbled and would have fallen had Abraham not caught her. "Old girl really looks on her last legs," Nast whispered.
"Understand Abraham married her back a little while ago," General Cazombi commented.
"No accounting for affairs of the heart," Nast responded.
"Well, I really must've stepped on her teat," Conorado said. "I'll go to my grave believing I had no choice, but still, I feel sorry for her."
Heintges took his party aside. "Lew and I are going to the SJA's office right now. Can we all meet back at my office at say 1300 hours, have lunch together there? The place has been screened, so we can talk about the case without fear of compromising security. We've got a lot of work to do before next Thursday."
Nast nodded his assent. "We aren't going very far," he remarked, "since they've put us all up here at Darby until the trial's over." He looked at Cazombi. "How's your quarters, General?"
"Adequate," Cazombi replied. "Lew, keep a stiff upper. We'll get you out of this. See you all at lunch."
The staff judge advocate was a red-faced army colonel. "Request denied!" he thundered, his face growing even redder. "I have never heard of anything so stupid! Are you crazy, Captain, to make a demand on the legal system like this?"
Heintges was about to say something but Conorado laid a hand on his arm. "Colonel, I am sick and goddamned tired of people calling me crazy. Now, either you get Tuit cleared to sit as my coconsul or I fire Lieutenant Heintges here, and when a new lawyer is appointed for me, I fire him too, and so on until either Hoxey or I die of old age."
"Well—Well," the colonel blustered, "I didn't mean to say you're mentally unbalanced, Captain, excuse me. It's just that this request is a bit, uh, unusual, you might say."
"He's perfectly within his rights," Heintges added.
"Yes. Well, I'll have him here as soon as possible."
Lunch for the quartet consisted of sandwiches ordered from the Camp Darby post exchange. They took their time eating, although Aldo kept reminding them of all the work that lay ahead. At 1700 hours General Cazombi broke out a bottle of bourbon and they drank it in paper cups.
General Cazombi told the first story, an adventure he'd had when he'd been a lieutenant many years before. Conorado reciprocated. Nast and then Heintges contributed their own tales. By 1800 they were well into the bottle.
"How's Claypoole?" Nast asked Conorado.
"Huh? You know Claypoole?" Conorado asked, astonished.
"Well, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but to hell with it. Yeah. Remember when he and Dean were sent off on special TAD, as ‘Marine security detail’ on a survey ship?" He told Conorado about what had happened on Havanagas. The captain sat openmouthed as Nast related the story.
"Well, I'll be a shithouse mouse!" he exclaimed when Nast was done. "And Claypoole broke your nose?" Conorado laughed.
Nast laughed and fingered his nose. "Yep. Not that I didn't deserve it."
"Well, Thom, let me tell you something about Claypoole. He just saved my ass." Then, remembering the injunction about discussing what had happened on the Cambria, he changed the subject. Apparently, Nast and the others had had enough to drink at that point that nobody noticed.
At 1900 hours, much to everybody's surprise, there was a knock on the door.
"Well, gentlemen," Hank Tuit said as he entered the room and took in what was going on, "I lose my ship, get set up to put my best friend in jail, and now I'm in with a bunch of drunks. Anything left in that bottle for a guest?"
Conorado introduced Tuit.
"That was fast!" Heintges said. "Close the door, we've got a lot of work to do."
Tuit glanced around the room, taking in the mess, pretending to be offended by what he saw. "Yeah," he commented sourly, "looks like you been at it all afternoon too."
"You ain't seen nothing yet, Hank," General Cazombi said, a slight twitch to the right side of his face indicating he was enormously pleased with his surroundings. He pulled another bottle of bourbon out of his briefcase. "Never go anywhere without my medicinal medicaments."
"We really should get down to work, now that Hank's here," Aldo said.
"Eh, take it easy, Aldo, the night's young and we've got until next goddamned week," Conorado said
. "You gotta get to know Hank better before we start talking business."
"‘Get to work’ my ass!" Nast said. "Who the hell can do any work after all the bourbon we've had to drink? May as well get plastered. Hell, it may be the last time old Lew here'll have a chance to lift one with friends. They don't have bourbon on Darkside, Lew!"
Everyone laughed except Conorado.
"Hey, Lew, they don't have seegars up there either!" Tuit said. "But we do here!" He pulled a box out of his pocket and produced five Anniversarios No. 2, which he passed out.
"Gawdamn," General Cazombi said, "that's nearly a month's pay for a general!"
"Two months' pay for a mere captain," Conorado said, taking one and biting off the end.
"General, I am a civilian now," Tuit said, "so I get my pay as a ship's master and a retirement stipend from old Mother Navy."
"Don't call me ‘General,’ Hank. It's Al, short for Alistair. Tell us what happened to your ship."
Tuit became serious. "Bad accident, Al. Lew was with me. Hadn't been for him, neither of us would be here now."
"Hadn't been for Claypoole and Dean, neither of us would be here now," Conorado added. Then he realized he'd said too much. He exchanged a guilty look with Tuit, which General Cazombi caught.
"Okay, boys, what really happened? We heard the news about your propulsion unit going critical and all that crap. Never believed a word of it. Give us the scoop, this office is secure." Cazombi blew out a large cloud of smoke and sipped from his cup.
Tuit and Conorado exchanged glances again. Tuit shrugged. "What the hell," he said. "If anybody's listening, get fucked." He told them what had happened.
"So that's what you meant when you said Dean and Claypoole had saved your life," Nast said.
"Lew," Heintges said, "if we could only make that story public, nobody in his right mind would find you guilty of breaking the law on Avionia Station." He sighed. "But we can't make it public."
Kingdom's Swords Page 29
