Eric Flint - The Rats, the Bats and the Ugly

Ginny had been listening to everything with increasing agitation. Now, she got up and started pacing around. "I've been talking to a lot of people. I've made some arrangements. I have pushed very hard for a Shareholder's meeting. I want to put it to the vote: Either the Crotchets give Chip back, or we declare war on them. Destroy their ship if need be, and take him by force. If I can't get the backing from the Council of Shareholders, I'll go it alone."

"You'll need more than votes to get inside that ship," said Liepsich dryly.

"Which is what I want from you," she said, pointing at the scientist.

"And what will you give me in return?" asked Liepsich.

Ginny had a feeling she was being tested. "What do you need?"

"You. Or rather cooperation from you and your soft-cyber," said Liepsich. "What you may not know is that the mop-up team Van Klomp and Judge McCairn organized for your house turned up a lot of interesting materiel. And some interesting people, too. Most of them ran, but some couldn't. Some are still attached to marble slabs. Remind me not to insult you too badly, Shaw. The MPs also brought me this." He held up the mangled remains of the badge that once elicited her cooperation. It was cut and battered.

"You broke the speaker-circuit. But the rest is in good shape. And to my code-cracker's delight, it's got what he thinks are command strings. And it is definitely a Crotchet-made device."

Ginny nodded. "You'll have my cooperation, if I have yours, sir. Although I will bring my Super-Glue along."

"Done," said Liepsich, "and my first act is going to be to fit you with a slowshield. Because someone is bound to want to shoot you soon, at this rate."

"Then I won't be able to use my chainsaw. And I prefer going on the offensive."

"No. You won't be able to use it-not unless I fit you with one of my switchable ones. Which is what I plan to do.

"Now, what about the rest of you?" demanded Liepsich. "What are you going to do?"

"Interviews with Ginny and you, indicating that Crotchet and Magh' hardware are one and the same," said Lynne Stark.

"I'll do it, but not yet," said Liepsich.

"Further moves with the officer 'reconstruction.' I know it sounds trivial," said the Judge Advocate General. "But it cuts right into the heart of the military system. Of course, JAG investigators will continue to look into Connolly's case. I know it is not of immediate importance to you, Ms. Shaw, but dropping all the charges against him before you go to face the board of Shareholders will be ammunition. And I also want those who corrupted justice in my unit. I want them badly. We'll also have to look at the other cases involving these people, notably that of Major Fitzhugh. The level of public anger at the army about all this is threatening to knock the Council off its pedestal. It also gives us the possible opportunity of reorganizing control of the army, which we may just need, soon. If we are to fight the Magh' and the Korozhet simultaneously, that is."

Capra nodded. "In the meanwhile, Fitz's retrial will go forward, sir?"

The JAG nodded.

Capra pointed to the military animals. "We'll want some of you rats and bats to testify. And perhaps, if you could lend me your services to investigate something. There are two witnesses, particularly this man, Mervyn Paype. His testimony in that first mock trial was damning. We need to deal with him…"

"Indade!" said O'Niel, with a fiendish flash of long white teeth in his black crinkled face. "To be sure. You can leave it to us. The traitorous rogue will be dealt with afore ye can say 'abracadaver.' "

Mike cringed, knowing his boss was listening. "I must ask you to be circumspect."

Fal clutched himself. "Surely that's not necessary. That would be the unkindest cut of all."

"Not that! I meant… careful. Do things correctly."

Fal clutched even tighter. "I should think so!" he said. " 'Tis not a place to be taking short cuts." He turned on the relaxed-looking Nym. " 'Tis most at ease you are, about such a threat. Or," he sneered, "is it only the private parts of that poxy golf cart that you care about?"

Nym shook his head disparagingly. "Alack, if only your wits were as wide as your waist, Fal. It's merely the official term for short-arm inspection."

Fal looked even more puzzled "Why? 'Tis not as if we're going slip the cozening coxcomb the muddy conger."

Melene snickered. "No, something a little harder, sharper and longer. Soon he'll be a greenery-yallery… foot-in-the-grave young man."

"Besides," said Doc, thoughtfully, "if we're going to kill him, it wouldn't make any difference if Pistol or Fal gave him the clap first."

Mike Capra put his head in his hands. He could almost sympathize with that son of a bitch of a prosecuting attorney. "Listen. You can't go and kill the witness."

The assembled bats and rats looked at him in some puzzlement. "Why not?" asked Melene, finally.

"Because…" The young attorney realized that he'd have to bring this down to their level. Morality, and the fairness of law, meant little to these creatures. They had no experience of either. "Because if the witness turns up dead, it's as good as an admission of guilt by Fitz. I've got to establish that the man is lying. All I want you to do is to try and find out some background for me. But he has to be able to get into the witness stand for us to establish that he's a liar."

Eamon crinkled his forehead further with the effort of thinking about that. "Well. I suppose we cannot be kneecapping him either, then. If he has to stand, that is. We could break his elbows, mind."

"Methinks we could circumspect him!" said Pistol cheerfully, rubbing his paws in anticipation.

"You can't intimidate or maim the witness either!" begged Mike.

Fal shook his head in disgust. "Methinks we'll have to resort to slipping him the conger, after all. No wonder you were insisting on us having a short-arm inspection."

General Needford held his head in hands. His shoulders were shaking slightly. "I foresee that the law," he said unsteadily, "is going to get a lot more complicated. I think I will withdraw as much as possible from this case and leave things to Lieutenant Capra and my friend Ogata."

Eric Flint

The Rats, the Bats amp; the Ugly

Eric Flint

The Rats, the Bats amp; the Ugly

Places of confinement: initially a clean, neat room with a couple of comfortable issue chairs. Part of the room is barred off.

Chip Connolly had been sipping a cup of tea that one of the MPs had made for him. He was beginning to relax completely for the first time since he'd been to Shaw House. Ginny was free, and had a chainsaw in her hands, and she had the rats and bats to guard her.

Then he looked up at the suits that had come into the back room, and realized that his troubles might only just be starting.

There were four MPs, and, as the case had gone on they'd become increasingly easygoing with their prisoner. By now it was apparent that they, at least, had acquitted him.

"Excuse me, but only military police personnel are allowed back here," said the sergeant firmly.

The leader of the suits reached into an inner pocket and took out his badge. "Special Branch," he said. "We've come to collect the prisoner."

The sergeant blinked. "He's a military prisoner. You can't do that."

The lead suit pulled out another piece of paper. "Here is my authorization. Signed by Chief Director Asmal and Judge Jurgens. You can't stop us."

The sergeant took the piece of paper and examined it. "I'd need to talk to Judge McCairn fir-"

"Sarge!" yelled Chip. "Guns!" He flung the tea, hitting the second suit in the eyes just as the man raised his weapon and fired. The gun had a silencer and made scarcely any noise. The sergeant crumpled, still clutching the piece of paper.