Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

“Would it surprise you to learn,” Harriet asked, rotating the image to better display Jakus’s face, “that he’s here on Faber Eridani?”

“Here?” Legroeder was stunned.

“Right here in Elmira, in fact. He’s been here for two years. I talked to him not long after he returned.”

“But—” Legroeder stammered “—they said at the inquest that no one else from the L.A . had returned. How could they—don’t they know he’s here?”

“They not only know,” said Harriet, “but it was his testimony, in large part, that led to their decision against you.”

Legroeder stared at her in bewilderment. “But that’s not—I didn’t hear anything about any testimony—”

“No. You didn’t,” said Harriet. “And isn’t that interesting—especially given the damaging nature of his testimony?”

Legroeder opened his mouth again. “ What damaging testimony?”

“I can show it to you later, if you like. The fact that they hid it from you is something we can use in your defense. I assume the testimony will be brought into an actual trial. But in this preliminary inquest, they didn’t need it; all they wanted was to deny you the support of the RiggerGuild. But someone pretty high up must be scared about something. Or at the very least, dismayed by your sudden arrival here. Dismayed enough to use hidden testimony against you, apparently in hopes of shutting you away forever. Why do you suppose they would do that?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

Harriet sighed, frowning. “That’s what we have to find out. I think there’s a lot more to this than meets the eye. But right now, all I have is suspicions.” She studied Legroeder for a moment. “It wasn’t easy to get you freed on bail, you know. I think the only reason they set bail for you was that they weren’t expecting someone like me to come along and help you.” She pressed her fingertips together in concentration. “You know, if you’re convicted of setting up the L.A . for capture, you could be mindwiped, or locked away for life.”

Legroeder tightened his lips, but said nothing.

“I’m sorry—you didn’t need to hear that.” Harriet attempted a smile. “So, Rigger Legroeder… would you like me to represent you?”

“Well, I don’t have any m—”

“There’s no fee up front, just a percentage if we ever go for damages and collect anything. We probably won’t. I’m not in this for the money.”

Legroeder was having trouble focusing; his head was filled with questions. “Did Kalm-Lieu bring you in on this? Are you a good lawyer?”

Harriet grinned. “Does it matter? I’m the only one you’ve got. But yes, I think I’m a pretty good lawyer. And no, Kalm-Lieu didn’t bring me in—though I think he was relieved that I stepped in.” Her grin vanished, and she looked deadly serious. “When I spoke with Kalm-Lieu, he seemed— scared , is the only word I can think of. Though he tried to hide it, I’m sure he’s glad to be off the case.”

Scared? Frustrated, Legroeder would have thought. Angry. But why scared? “Why are you doing this? If it scared Kalm-Lieu?”

Harriet steepled her fingers. “I’ve been following your case with great interest—along with everything else I can find that’s related to the Ciudad de los Angeles . As I said—there’s a lot going on here beyond procedural irregularities—but I’m just beginning to put together what it is. I’m hoping we can help each other find out, and get you exonerated.”

“But why? Why are you helping me ?”

“Because somehow there’s a connection between what’s happened to you and what happened to Bobby,” she said softly. “And one way or another, I am going to find out what it is.”

Impossible. Bobby’s in Golen Space. He’s gone, Legroeder thought, shutting his eyes. He took a deep breath. “What chance is there of learning anything about your grandson? Realistically.”

“Maybe no chance. Maybe it’s hopeless. Maybe I’m just a crazy old lady, and I wouldn’t blame you if you thought so. But I want to know if Bobby is alive or dead. I want to know what happened .” For a moment, she seemed surprised by her own vehemence. Then she poured some tea from the insulated pot into her cup. “And I want to make sure everyone else knows, too. Would you like some more coffee?”

Legroeder’s head was spinning. He felt as if a real sun were beating down on his head, here in this holodesert in the midst of the cafe; he could feel the heat like the blast of an oven. “Yes, sure,” he muttered. “More coffee would be wonderful…”

The recording of the testimony was a bit muddy from imperfect decryption. Access to it had been restricted by the RiggerGuild office, and two years ago Harriet had paid a private investigator to snag an illicit copy off the datagrid. According to the PI, the copy he’d intercepted was being transmitted to a location known to be a datastop for an extremist political group called Centrist Strength. What Centrist Strength had to do with a RiggerGuild inquest on a five-year-old lost ship, the PI had been unable to say. Centrist Strength was new to Legroeder. According to Harriet, it was a group headquartered here on Faber Eridani, but active on a few other worlds as well, which was known for an almost fanatical advocacy of new human expansion into the galaxy. Their philosophy was laden with heavy overtones of what they called “Destiny Manifest”—a belief that the stars, all of them, were destined for human conquest and habitation. Though lip service was paid in their pronouncements to cooperation with other species, the overall tenor of their activities seemed to be one of a human supremacist movement.

Harriet remained silent as Legroeder watched the initial part of Jakus’s testimony. It was a fairly straightforward account of the raider attack, with one critical omission: any mention of the sighting of the lost starship Impris . Legroeder stared, tight-lipped, waiting to see how his old shipmate would explain the L.A .’s entrapment by the pirate ship. The Jakus on the recording looked like a different person from the one Legroeder had served with on the L.A . For one thing, he seemed far more tentative and cautious, and—Legroeder thought— old . Or perhaps not so much old, as worn . His time in servitude with the pirates had taken a heavy toll. A datachip implant flickered on his left temple—a gift of the pirates, no doubt. Legroeder wondered how he’d been received here on Faber Eridani with that implant; there was a lot of prejudice about that sort of thing on many of the Centrist Worlds—or at least there had been seven years ago. Not for the first time, Legroeder uttered a prayer of gratitude that he had been spared that particular indignity.

Eventually someone on the inquest panel had asked Jakus why the Ciudad de los Angeles had slowed enough to make it vulnerable to attack in the first place.

“Watch Jakus’s face here,” Harriet murmured.

The haggard-faced man on the screen hesitated before answering. Jakus looked as though he were running two or three possible scenarios through his mind. Twice, he seemed about to speak, before biting back words. He scratched at the implant on his temple, cocking his head slightly. Finally he answered in a gravelly voice, “It was because of a bum image from our stern-rigger. He had some kind of crazy idea he’d seen a vessel in distress.” Jakus seemed to be trying to laugh at the idea; but the laugh couldn’t quite get out. “The rest of us and the skip—we saw right through that. It was just a clumsy deception thrown up by the pirates to confuse us.”