From last time:
“Did you take possession of the tapes?”
“Aye, ma’am,” he replied. “With an order of the jurists’ review board, I obtained the tapes, and reviewed them. They are recordings of the communications and flight data of all of the ships of the Expeditionary Forces sent to rescue the First Minister’s downed ship.”
He watched as Enza chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Are all of the ships accounted for in these recordings?”
Lok Sim nodded curtly. “Aye, ma’am.”
He felt the flutter of nervousness abate. A thrill rushed through his body, they were going to succeed. They were going to win. “Did any of them stray from their stated flight paths?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Did any of them go anywhere near the village of Breksin?”
“No, ma’am,” he replied with a smile.
He watched as the slightest twitch of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Nothing further,” Enza said.
New stuff:
********
“Lieutenant Zof Min, were you with Lieutenant Commander Ching for the entirety of the mission into the Belaar Valley?” Enza asked. She placed her hands on the counselor’s table and looked down at the stack of papers in front of her. Frowning slightly, she looked up at her witness, a thinly built, tidy, efficient looking officer. He had his hands folded in his lap, his back ramrod straight.
“No, ma’am,” he said with a slight smile. “There was a brief period in which the commander was separated from his unit.”
“Why is that?”
Zof Min smiled as he looked down, his expression conveying his belief that the question was rather silly and its answer obvious. “Well, ma’am, he was engaging the enemy.”
“Is it possible that while he was away he was coordinating an assault on Breksin?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. We monitored communication channels during the separation.”
“And did you monitor the Lieutenant Commander’s communications?”
“Yes ma’am, within a few minutes of Lieutenant Commander Ching’s departure, he was calling for assistance. He had engaged a superior force to draw fire away from the First Minister and her crew.”
“Nothing further at the moment,” Enza said as she took her seat.
Pelmon inclined his head toward opposing counsel. “The prosecution?”
The prosecutor stood up. “And in the interim? Did you receive any communications from the Lieutenant Commander before the request for assistance?”
“Well sir, we were monitoring the Lieutenant Commander’s communications, but he did not report anything of importance.”
“How can you be certain? Was it possible he was giving instruction in code?”
Zof Min appeared to bite back a laugh. “Well, sir, he cursed the enemy a few times, but was otherwise largely silent, I imagine that maintaining the element of surprise kept him both quiet and completely occupied.”
The prosecutor frowned. “And the remainder of the forces, where were they during the exchange?”
“They had been dispatched in the search for the First Minister and were being rerouted to assist the Lieutenant Commander.”
“Is it not possible that some were sent to Breksin?”
“No, sir. All forces were accounted for.”
The prosecutor sat down, still frowning. “Nothing further.”
Pelmon turned toward Enza. “Your next witness, Captain?”
“The defense calls Sergeant Garo,” Enza declared as she stood up. From the witness’s chambers, the graying supply sergeant was brought into the courtroom and led toward the stand. He took his seat, crossing his arms defensively across his barrel chest.
“Sergeant, please describe your responsibilities,” Enza began.
“I track the supply orders and shipments for the Expeditionary Forces.”
“And the inventory?”
“The inventory, too,” he confirmed blandly.
“Can you tell me what this is?” she asked as she crossed the floor to hand the sergeant a sheaf of papers.
“It’s the inventory,” he replied with barely a glance at the papers.
“Do you see the two numbers I’ve circled on the inventory?” she asked.
“Yes ma’am,” he replied.
“What do these correspond to?”
“Uniform supplies.”
“Should the numbers be the same?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a curt nod.
“Are they?”
“No ma’am.”
“Why not?” She asked. Garo paused and said nothing. “Why not?” she repeated.
Garo looked downward. “I don’t know,” he mumbled.
“And what does it mean that the number in the right column is smaller than the number in the left?”
“That some of the uniforms are missing.”
“How many?”
“Seventy seven.”
“Do you always misplace Expeditionary Forces uniforms?”
“Objection!” the prosecutor declared. “This is groundless.”
“Allow me to restate the question?” Enza asked. Pelmon nodded, a distinct look of boredom on his face.
Enza turned and walked back toward counsel’s table. “Do you control the inventory?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Is it your responsibility to ensure that the inventories are taken correctly?” She neatly arranged the papers in front of her, not bothering to look up.
“Yes ma’am.”
“If supplies were missing, was it your duty to report them?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Did you?”
“No ma’am.”
“Why not?” she asked. Garo remained quiet. “Sergeant, you have been asked a question,” she said sternly. “Why did you not report the missing uniforms?”
“Objection, this is irrelevant!” the prosecutor cried out.
“Counselor, could you please explain to the court the relevance of an inventory error to a war crimes trial?” Pelmon demanded.
“Sir, the perpetrators of the crime were dressed as members of the Expeditionary Forces, this does not mean they necessarily were members of the Expeditionary Forces. The missing uniforms support the defense’s theory that the attackers disguised themselves in order to frame Lieutenant Commander Ching and his forces.”
Pelmon turned toward the witness. “Answer the question, please.”
“I did nothing wrong!” Sergeant Garo declared, his brow furrowed, his eyes flashing with anger.
“Answer the question, Sergeant. Why did you not report the missing uniforms?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, his eyes turned downward.
“If you are lying to protect someone else, sergeant, this is your only opportunity to make things right.”
“I am not lying,” Garo growled.
“So you simply failed to perform your responsibilities then?”
“I did nothing wrong.”
“Did you make a mistake then, or are you lying now?” Enza pressed without relenting.
“I did nothing wrong!” Garo yelled as he stood from his seat.
Enza remained nonplussed. She regarded him coolly. “I have no further questions for this witness.”
“I did nothing wrong!” The anger and anxiety in his voice grew more noticeable.
“That’s enough, sergeant,” Pelmon said sternly.
Garo’s eyes darted frantically back and forth between Enza and Pelmon. With labored breaths, he took his seat again, the expression on his face a perfect imitation of a hunted animal’s.
********
“You seem to have lost control over your courtroom, Pelmon.” The ice seemed to drip from Rae Et’s words.
Pelmon resisted a growing urge to roll his eyes. He allowed himself to sink into his chair. The disembodied voice intruding upon the sanctuary of his private office was beginning to wear upon his nerves. “If I overstep the bounds of procedure I will be instantly overturned and risk losing the case to another judge. Perhaps even one not aligned with you, if such a thing still exists.”
“You overestimate my reach,” Rae Et replied. He could almost hear the menacing smile in her voice. “But it matters little. If Ching is acquitted, we have perfect cause for a violent response. If he is convicted, he dies and we are rid of a rather quarrelsome enemy.”
Pelmon, in grudging silence, could do no less than give the woman her due. She managed to turn every situation into a win-win one. No matter the outcome, everything came up in Rae Et’s favor.
“And what of Trey? Has he been convinced?”
“It can only be a matter of time. He has realized the futility of his current position. If he were not seriously considering your proposition, he would have alerted the First Ministers to your plans. And once a man like Trey begins to seriously doubt the very things he has believed in his entire life, his descent is a forgone conclusion.”
“I hope for both of our sakes that you are correct.”
Pelmon frowned. “He has vacillated too long. If he were to approach the First Ministers now with what he knows, they would question his motives and the reason for the delay. He will lose their confidence and his access to power. He is not that stupid.”
“We will see in time. That is all, Pelmon.”
“You have not yet told me whether I should persist with finding Ching guilty.”
“Honestly, I do not care. Find whatever way you want,” Rae Et said dismissively. Pelmon heard the line go dead and let out an exasperated sigh. He was loath to acquit Ching, but the idea of being overturned by the Chief Jurist was even more unsavory. Pelmon detested the other man, the one who held the title that was rightfully Pelmon’s. The Chief Jurist wore a mantle he was unfit to bear, and the man knew it.
Pelmon was well aware of the fact that his own motives were poorly understood. He had been denied the position and the power he desired by an untrusting First Minister. Shir Om had looked upon Pelmon with suspicion – the same suspicion with which he regarded every man and woman who sought power. In truth, Pelmon likely would not have been satisfied as Shir Om’s Chief Jurist. His entire career, he had tried to position himself to ascend to the highest levels of power and even if the late First Minister had granted Pelmon the title he desired, he would have desperately tried to circumscribe his power nonetheless. It was not, however, as though Pelmon bore any affection for Rae Et or her addle brained thug of a son. It merely behooved him to make allies with the current opposition in the event that they succeeded in seizing power. Pelmon had no faith in either the current administration or the one poised to overthrow it. As a result, he was indifferent between them. He didn’t care which side succeeded in this mortal struggle, he merely contented himself with having allies on both sides.
Pelmon leaned back in his plush chair, apparently unaware of the precarious position in which he’d settled himself. He seemed far too comfortable and complacent for a man who walked a razor’s edge between camps of bitter adversaries, poised to turn on him the moment he leaned too far in the wrong direction. His friends were more dangerous than enemies, but he’d lived his entire life in this position. While it was hardly apparent from looking at him, Pelmon was a man who was used to living in treacherous situations. He may have been physically weak and soft, but he had not managed to achieve his current station without a great deal of cunning. He had many enemies, but he knew how to play them to his advantage, like a skillful conductor, marrying disparate sounds in a grandly orchestrated performance. A lesser man would have been exhausted by the task, but Pelmon thrived upon it.
********
“Well, then, everything seems to be healing nicely,” Tao Scion declared.
Zara felt a sigh of relief escape her. “Thank you, Tao Scion,” she said with a half smile as she pulled the sides of her robe together.
Tao Scion’s smile faded into a slight frown. “But your blood pressure is too high and the stress is taking its toll on you. You have not followed my advice in limiting your duties, have you?”
Zara shook her head slightly in a reluctant admission. “I have not. But you know that I do not have that luxury.”
“I know,” he replied. “You have not told anyone yet, have you?”
Zara looked downward, unprepared to reopen that wound, which she’d been studiously ignoring. Unlike the physical ones, time hadn’t actually healed it. “No,” she whispered.
“Do you plan to?” he pushed. She knew he wasn’t oblivious, he knew that she did not want to discuss the subject, but he did not relent. The problem with doctors, she mused, was that they were always so certain they knew the best medicine for any occasion.
“It would only upset them. There is more than enough to trouble them, I do not need to add to that.”
The old doctor sighed. “Burdens, my dear, are more easily borne when they are shared.”
Zara nodded but said nothing.
********
Pelmon frowned as he watched the legal bloodbath unfold. The prosecutor had found himself backed in a corner and clearly could not find his way out. The pudgy jurist patted at the beads of perspiration forming on his brow and squinted at the frustrated counselor who was flailing in his attempts to make his case.
“But Corporal Eng, you have previously told us that the Lieutenant Commander’s soldiers are completely loyal to him, how are we to believe you when you say that none of you would lie for him?”
“The Lieutenant Commander’s soldiers wouldn’t hesitate to follow him into the most perilous of circumstances precisely because we trust him. He has earned that trust, in no small part because of his honesty and his expectation of honesty.”
“Nothing further for this witness,” the prosecutor surrendered.
Enza stood up. “Sir, I would like to renew my request for summary dismissal of the claims against the Lieutenant Commander on the grounds of a lack of evidence.”
“I will take the motion under advisement,” Pelmon stated blandly. “I will issue my ruling in four days’ time. Until then, the proceedings are adjourned.”
********
“It seems your case is falling apart,” Trey muttered.
“Perhaps it is,” Pelmon replied diffidently, leaning forward in his chair. “But nothing changes. If the people of the Belaar think justice has not been done, there will be a revolt.”
The First Ministers’ chief of staff paced anxiously in Pelmon’s office. “There must be another way,” Trey seethed.
“Then I suggest you find it quickly,” Pelmon replied. “I announce my decision in four days.”
********
“Sir, we must consider contingency plans,” Trey entreated the First Minister as they walked down the corridors of the First Ministers’ residence. “Perhaps a retrial, if we stall for time…”
“Another trial in front of Pelmon? What would be the point?”
“Do you doubt his impartiality, sir?”
“Impartiality? He’s unscrupulous. I don’t know what motivates him, but I certainly don’t trust him.”
“Perhaps…” Trey began.
“Trey, Ching is innocent, I don’t know what else I have to do to convince you. You’ve seen the evidence, or the total lack of it, what more do you need?” Kal El snapped irritably.
“I understand that, sir,” Trey replied. “But what if that is not the most important thing? What if justice for one man leads to suffering and pain for many?” Trey couldn’t believe the words that were escaping his lips. It could not truly have been him, saying these things that were so foreign to everything he’d ever believed, everything he’d thought he was working to defend.
Kal El stopped and turned toward Trey, the look of determination on his face unmistakable. “Trey, I’ve said it before, we’re not having this conversation. Zara and I will be there when Pelmon makes his ruling. If he denies the motion, we will support Enza in appealing his decision. If he grants it, we will be there to stand with Ching as he’s freed. The evidence is clear and we will not be party to a miscarriage of justice.”
********`
“This is well out of hand,” Trey declared, rubbing at his temples as he leaned against a corner of the conference room.
“Well that is a rather bleak and hyperbolic comment, Trey,” Pelmon replied drolly.
Trey squinted slightly, his eyes tired and bleary from a lack of sleep. He dragged a hand through his short, neatly cut hair. He glanced across room toward the table where Pelmon was seated, looking irritatingly unperturbed.
“I will not even try to maintain this charade any longer!” Trey shouted as he walked toward the table.
“So what will you do? Admit to those you serve that you have been disloyal? That you have conspired with the enemy? My friend, things are in motion. Things much greater than you or I. Don’t be so arrogant as to assume you have the power to stop them.”
Trey placed his hands on the table and leaned toward the other man, his jaw clenched in anger. “Will you be so comfortable spouting your opinions when you must do it in front of the First Ministers?” He demanded. “Will you calmly lie and prevaricate and hide the truth then?”
Trey’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Pelmon. The other man, however, raised a brow and gave him a slight, enigmatic smile. “We shall see,” he replied opaquely, not the least bit discomfited despite Trey’s clear agitation.
********
“No…no, it’s staying the way it is,” Lois explained tersely as she spoke into the phone. “I know what a split infinitive is and I meant to split it…I can break the rule for emphasis…Haven’t you ever heard of poetic license?” She gestured agitatedly as she paced through the kitchen despite the fact that the wet-behind-the-ears copy editor on the other end obviously couldn’t see her. “Well come on, did Star Trek open with ‘To go boldly where no man has gone before?’ Yes, I’m putting my foot down…I’m glad you see it my way.”
She hung up the phone and made her way to the living room. She flopped down on the couch, scattered proof pages covered the coffee table. Lois closed her eyes, having lost all patience to consider working at that moment. The sound of a motor shutting down and the closing of car doors from outside caused her to turn toward the door.
A quick scan confirmed that Martha and Jonathan were back from their trip into town. The spring planting season was just starting up. Over the last few weeks, the ground began to thaw out and the farm shook off its blanket of snow and woke from its winter slumber. The cold weather had lasted straight through March this year, but the light at the end of winter’s dark tunnel was becoming clearer and brighter.
The door opened and her in laws entered. “Hi Lois,” Martha said cheerfully as she shed her jacket. “How’s the editing going?”
Lois favored her mother-in-law with a slight smile as she stood up to help them with the few shopping bags they were carrying. “Never ending battle,” she replied. “Do you think my editor would be more deferential if she knew I was the most powerful being in the world?”
The comment elicited a chuckle from Jonathan. “That good, huh? Bet it makes you miss working for Perry.” He and Martha headed toward the kitchen and Lois followed.
“You have no idea,” Lois concurred.
“If you’ve got some time, I could use help repairing the tractor’s fuel line,” Jonathan asked as they unpacked the groceries.
“Sure, well assuming all you need is someone to do the heavy lifting.”
“That’ll do,” Jonathan replied with a smile.
Lois frowned slightly as she caught the first sounds of the baby waking up. “Is it Jon?” Martha asked off Lois’s expression.
“Yeah, he’s fine, just waking up from his nap.”
“I’ll get him,” Martha volunteered.
The phone began to ring just as Lois was putting away the last of the groceries. “It’s probably my editor; I don’t think she was happy with me hanging up on her.”
“I’ll get it,” Jonathan replied with a soft chuckle. He picked up the cordless handset. “Hello? Oh, hi Perry! It’s good to hear from you. Yes, she’s here…just a second.”
He handed the phone to Lois. “Hey, Chief, what’s up?” she asked as she cradled the phone against her shoulder.
“Hi, Darlin.’ How’s the little guy?” Perry asked. Lois smiled as she realized how much she missed hearing Perry’s southern drawl.
“He’s just fine,” Lois replied.
“Glad to hear it. Now, I’m going to have to ask you to forgive me for opening your mail…” Perry began cryptically.
“My mail?”
“Normally, I just send everything right along to you without looking at it, but there was a letter from the Pulitzer Committee and well…I really couldn’t help myself…”
“The Pulitzer Committee? A letter? To me?” Lois asked incoherently. Butterflies began to swirl in her stomach and she was very nearly certain that the room had started to spin. She sat down at the kitchen table. Was this it? Was this the phone call she’d been waiting for her entire professional life? Was it even possible? She’d dreamt of this moment a thousand times – far more often when she was just beginning her career, when it seemed like this moment was going to be the single greatest moment of her life, when nothing else could have even compared. For the first time since she’d begun considering a career in journalism, the Pulitzer had been light years from her mind. She hadn’t even thought about it since Clark had left.
“You’ve been nominated, darlin.’ For best editorial series.”
She nearly dropped the phone, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Lois? Lois, is everything all right?” She heard her father-in-law’s voice intrude into the fog of her mind.
“I’ve been nominated,” she murmured.
********
