Children of Hope (14 page)

Captain Tolliver was not present. I was disappointed, but not surprised.

I looked about for Kevin, couldn’t find him. Had they already tried him? I’d forgotten to ask.

Mikhael and Anselm were present, seated separately from the others, along with Dr Romez, others I vaguely recognized.

Witnesses.

I stood before the table.

“Let us begin. This court sits by authority and direction of Edgar Tolliver, Captain of UNS
Olympiad.
We are convened to consider a capital charge of attempted murder against one Randolph Carr. You are Randolph Carr?”

“Yes.” I wouldn’t call her “ma’am.” She’d been nasty to Mik.

“Lieutenant Frand will act as prosecutor.” She indicated a bony, older woman at the table opposite. “Has the charge been—”

“May it please the Court…” A fleshy man, of middle years. He got to his feet. “I call to your attention that this … person, this defendant, is a citizen of Hope Nation, where he’s wanted for various misdeeds. In fact, Bishop Scanlen, on behalf of holy Reunification Church, has petitioned him—”

Ms Skor tapped her gavel. “Mr Pandeker, you have neither authority nor standing to interf—”

“I wish to see justice done. The Church has prior claim.”

“I suggest you take it up with the Captain.”

“I have, but he won’t—”

“Your statement is noted. Please be seated. Now, Mr Carr, the court takes note that you are a minor of fourteen years. While the law allows for special proceedings in the case of juveniles, I must advise you—”

“My act was that of an adult, and I ask that I be tried as an adult.” My voice was firm.

In the courtroom, a buzz of surprise.

“Very well, your request is granted.” Lieutenant Skor consulted her holovid. “Do you wish a reading of the charge?”

“No, I understand it.”

“Are you sure you wish to waive counsel?”

“Yes.” It was easier than I’d feared. My voice was strong, my knees steady. If only I wasn’t fighting a constant urge to whimper.

“How do you plead?”

A long moment’s silence. I forced myself to meet her gaze.

“I am guilty of the offense charged. I tried to kill Captain Nicholas Seafort.”

Anselm’s face tightened. He shook his head.

Ms Skor studied me. Then, “Very well, the court accepts your guilty plea.” Again, she consulted her holovid. “Have you anything to say in your own behalf?”

“I do not.”

She pursed her lips. “Whatever you may think, this is not a kangaroo court. I am not the Captain’s pawn, and will judge independently. If you have any mitigating facts or circumstances, you should present them now.”

Thank you, ma’am, for making it easier for me. “There are no mitigating facts or circumstances.”

“You understand this is a capital charge?”

“I’ve thought of little else for a week.”

“Is this a form of protest? Do you deny the authority of the court?

“Not at all. I’m on your ship, in your custody, subject to your law.”

In the courtroom, utter silence.

“Lieutenant Frand, does the prosecution wish to be heard regarding sentence?”

“Yes, I—” Her eyes fixed on mine, and held them a long while. “No, ma’am. The case speaks for itself. We leave it to the court.”

Ms Skor rapped the table. “Very well, the court will consider sentence. We are in recess.” She stood, strode out a far hatch.

I looked about, found an empty seat behind me, took it.

Jerence Branstead’s face seemed lined, older. He approached with diffidence, looked to Midshipman Ghent, glanced to me. Ghent nodded. Branstead drew up a chair.

“A brave show, boy. But why?”

My lip trembled.
Not now, Randy. Hold tight.
“I loved my father. You have no idea how much.”

“And?”

“I had a rough time in my cell last night. I decided the best way to show that love was to act as Dad would have. To make him proud of me.”

“He would have defended—”

“I shouldn’t have done it, Mr Branstead. Even if Mr Seafort was every bit as evil as I thought, I had no right to slaughter him before his crew, his family. Had Dad done something so horrible, he’d have submitted to justice. As I have.”

He waved it away. “It’s too heavy a price to pay for honor.”

“It’s better this way. I nearly destroyed Anthony, with the Bishop. I may have destroyed your Captain. I don’t want to do more harm.”

“The Bishop? What are you—”

“You’ll hear about it groundside, no doubt.”

The hatch slid open. Lieutenant Skor made her way to the table. “Randolph Carr, please stand.”

I did so.

“The court has considered your youth, your willingness to admit guilt and accept responsibility. These are laudable traits. Balanced against them are the stark facts. You split Captain’s Seafort’s skull without warning or mercy, before his four-year-old child, who to the court’s own knowledge is still dazed with shock and is utterly unnerved. Captain Seafort’s survival is not yet assured. The purpose of the law is to deter and punish.”

She tapped the desk. Her face was steel.

“Randolph Carr, I sentence you to be hanged by the neck until dead. The sentence shall be carried out by the master-at-arms unless commuted by the Captain within fifteen days.”

My legs gave way. Midshipman Ghent grabbed me from behind, helped me stand steady. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

“You shall remain in the brig until that time. You shall be provided with facilities to record any communications you wish to be forwarded after your death. May Lord God have mercy on your soul.”

Ghent’s firm hands supported me, under my arms. I began to lose my battle for composure.

“One more thing. Master-at-arms Janks, step forward.”

A figure threaded through the crowd. “Aye aye, ma’am. Master-at-arms Janks reporting.”

“It has come to the court’s attention that various petty cruelties have been routinely inflicted on the prisoner. He will be treated with courtesy and respect from this moment forward. He will be allowed to bathe, given fresh clothing and nutritious, tasty,
unadulterated
food. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. Very clear.”

“He will be allowed daily release from his cell for the purpose of exercise. You, or any officers so assigned, may take whatever security measures are required, but, Janks, don’t cross me! I’ll know, and you’ll regret it. The orders of the court supersede even those of the Captain, until he formally overrules them!”

“Aye aye, ma’am!”

“The prisoner will be removed.”

“Come, Mr Carr.” Ghent’s voice was soft. “Haskin, M’boia, help him. Easy, there.” Solicitously, they guided me to my cell.

I
T WAS THE THIRD
day.

Lieutenant Anselm came, with Mikhael Tamarov. I begged them not to make me leave the cell. All I wanted was to be left alone. Eventually, they complied.

I’d told them the same the day before, and the day before that.

I’d allowed Mr Branstead to sit with me, once. Whatever he said, I didn’t recall.

I ate listlessly, out of bodily need.

Every day they brought good food, fresh clothes, led me to a passenger cabin to shower. I did as they asked, crawled back into my bunk to sleep.

I’d committed the one act of my life I might truly be proud of. All that was left was to see it through.

Mikhael was back; had another day come?

News: Nick Seafort was healing. He was more alert; his double vision was clearing. I summoned a reserve, tried to share Mik’s joy.

He, at least, wouldn’t lose a father.

He nagged me to take a walk. “It does you no good to lie here.”

I snickered. “Is it bad for my health?”

“Don’t, sir.” A plea.

“I’m a convicted murderer. Don’t call me ‘sir.’”

“The Captain said—”

“We’re alone.” I took his silence for assent. “Where’s Tad?”

“Outside.”

“They trust you alone with me?”

“Mr Anselm does.” A blush. “And I’m off four and four.”

“Seafort’s recovery eased the Captain’s mind?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Yes.”

“I think it was the verdict and sentence.” He braced, as if for an explosion.

I shrugged. “That’s fair.”

“Is it?”

“Let him hate me. You did.”

“You were vile when you attacked Pa. You were noble in court. I wish I knew you.”

“So do I. I’m glitched, that’s for sure. I ought to be rebalanced.” Hormone rebalancing was still the therapy of choice for severe mental illness, though the shame attached …

“I wasn’t much better.” He blushed, at some private memory. “I gave Pa hell, when I was young. I don’t know how he put up with me.”

“I’ve been pretty rough on Anth.” I sighed, but my spirits weren’t as low as they’d been. “All right, take me for a walk.”

He knocked on the hatch. “Mr Anselm?”

Tad looked apologetic. He held the cuffs.

I offered my hands. He secured my wrists, in front, where it didn’t ache, and where I could scratch my nose.

In the corridor, he raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“I get to choose?”

“Within reason.”

I named the only place that held any appeal. “Sickbay.”

“Why?”

“I want to see Captain Seafort.”

“Lord in Heaven.” Anselm regarded me quizzically. “Is that a joke?”

“Else take me back to my cell.”

“Mr Tolliver would never allow it.”

“Did he forbid it?”

“Well, he—not in so many—I mean … I can’t just—damn it, Mik, don’t laugh at me.”

“Aye aye, sir. Sorry.” Mikhael’s mouth looked solemn, but not his eyes.

Anselm scratched his head. “I don’t know … A long sigh. “He could break me for this.” He pulled me toward the stairwell. “Move, before I change my mind.”

“Yes, sir.” I lengthened my pace.

At the stairwell he held me back. “Just a moment.” He undid my cuffs. “Put your hands behind your back.” A grunt. “There. I think I trust you, but …”

“Think?”

“I’m not sure. You’ve changed since we met you groundside, but are you completely done with your venom? I don’t know. I won’t risk the Captain’s life to find out. Besides, if I paraded you into sickbay with your hands usable, I’d face court-martial, and deserve to.”

It was no worse than I merited. Ears aflame, I let him guide me up the stairs.

“Hurry. This is officers’ country, and the fewer who see us, the—”

“Stand to!”

Immediately Anselm stiffened to attention, and Mikhael behind him.

Captain Tolliver stalked down the corridor, his face blotched. “What the devil are you up to? Why isn’t this felon in his cell?” He swept off his cap, seemed poised to hurl it at the bulkhead. “You bloody, incompetent toad! How dare you bring him here?” He stood nose to nose with Anselm. “Answer!”

“Aye aye, sir. We were taking the prisoner for exercise, as ordered by the court. According to the watch roster, it remains our duty—”

“I know my roster,
Lieutenant
Anselm. Did it say to cart him past the bridge?”

“With respect, sir, did it say not to?”

The Captain drew breath and grew redder.

“Sir, Ms Skor ordered that Mr Carr be treated with courtesy and respect, subject to ship’s security. I’m duty bound to obey!”

Tolliver stuck his nose practically inside Tad’s mouth. “And what are you specifically obeying, Mr Anselm?”

“Sir, he asked to see parts of Level 1. I could find no reason to refuse. I secured his hands behind his back and had a grip on his arm; under no conceivable circumstances is he a threat. Begging the Captain’s pardon, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Did you try using common sense?”

“Apparently not, sir.”

“Did you tell this—this
person
that I run the ship, not he?”

“No, sir. That was understood.”

“Did you consider the effect on ship’s morale of parading him past officers’ quarters and
the
bridge?”

“No, sir. It’s long-leave, and there’s hardly anyone aboard.”

Tolliver swung to Mikhael. “Are you part of this charade, Mr Tamarov?”

“Yes, sir. I urged Mr Carr to take advantage of the court’s provision for exercise.”

“Urged?”

“Yes, sir. He was lying in his cell in a funk.”

“Two demerits, for not letting nature take its course. Get him out of my sight!”

“Aye aye, sir.” Mikhael took a firm grip on my arm. We hurried along the corridor, toward the distant stairwell, past the bend. I risked a look over my shoulder. Captain Tolliver stood in the center of the corridor, arms folded, glaring.

When the bend hid us from view Anselm slowed. “Whew.”

“That makes nine,” Mikhael said glumly.

“Do you get caned for ten?” I’d always heard it was so.

“Not at my age. But he’ll cancel a week of leave.”

“I’m sorry I got you joeys in trouble. Hey, where are—” Anselm had swept me past the stairwell.

“To sickbay.”

I stopped short. “Are you serious? The Captain will be livid.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Tad’s tone was light, but his face was grim. “I didn’t hear him order us not to. Did you, Midshipman Tamarov?”

A moment’s reflection. “Not specifically, but—”

“You’re released from duty, Mr Tamarov. You may go to the wardroom if you wish.”

Mik hesitated less than a heartbeat. “I’d rather accompany you and the prisoner, sir.”

“Very well.”

“Tad … I mean, Mr Anselm.” I licked my lips. “Don’t wreck your career over—”

“Don’t concern yourself with my career, Mr Carr.” His tone was cool. Then, “Captain Tolliver’s displeasure with me is between us alone. I won’t let it stop me from doing what …”

I waited. “Yes?”

“What I think is right.”

Abruptly we reached a familiar hatchway. I grimaced. When last I’d seen this place I’d been writhing in pain, thanks to Mik.

Anselm peered in. “Ah, Burns. Is Dr Romez in?”

The med tech saluted, but didn’t come to attention. “No, sir. He’s in Mrs Veel’s cabin checking her—”

“Is Captain Seafort awake?”

“He’s going over the Log. Every day the Captain brings him—”

“I know. We’ll pay our respects. Come along, you two.”

At the sight of me, the tech’s eyes widened. “Sir, you can’t bring—”