Haladras (7 page)

Skylar secretly hoped it was true; that those six were
merely senile old men—harmless as children.

Once seated, Skylar breathed a little easier. He took a
moment to glance around at the others in the audience. Rasbus sat on the other
side of the aisle from him and Kindor. Next to the harbor master sat Captain
Arturo.

Skylar moaned inaudibly. Of all the people he
didn’t
want to know about
the incident
, Captain Arturo was first on the list.

The court proceedings commenced shortly thereafter. One of
the six men stood and called for attendance. Each name called received a “Here,
my lord,” in reply from the corresponding member of the quorum. When Skylar’s
name was called he echoed the same phrase, but he was so nervous his voice
cracked.

Great start
, he thought bitterly.

Having confirmed the attendance of all requisite parties,
the gray-robbed figure sat down and another stood. He had one of the long gray
beards, the longest of the bunch, and sallow skin, which clung loosely to his
angular face. He appeared to be the senior of the six inquisitors—the head
inquisitor. With a voice weakened by age, he spoke:

“This court of investigation is hereby in session. We are
here to probe into the incidents of the eighth of the Orven moon. The claims
are thus: that an unauthorized personal aviation device was used in a no-fly
zone; that said device was used to perform an illegal release from the anchor point
of Captain Arturo’s ship, the Supernova; that the aforesaid infractions were
committed by one Skylar Lancewright, an apprentice dockhand; that said
apprentice was ill-advisably assigned to operate a winch station; that the
aforesaid conditions put many lives in jeopardy and ultimately caused severe
injuries to said apprentice.

“Captain Arturo, are these charges correct?”

“Yes, my lord,” replied Arturo.

Kindor leaned closer to Skylar and whispered, “Looks like
Arturo’s the reason for this investigation.”

This realization stunned Skylar. The captain apparently
already knew more than Skylar had believed and obviously took
the incident
seriously.

“Very good,” continued the long-bearded figure. “We shall
proceed with the investigation. We will first hear the testimony of Harbor
Master Rasbus.”

At this bidding, Rasbus stood and walked forward, coming to
halt a few feet in front of the platform of judges.

“You are the harbor master of Cloud Harbor, are you not?”
questioned the head inquisitor.

“Aye.”

“The boy apprentice, Skylar Lancewright, has been under your
supervision?”

“Aye.”

“You were aware that he was among your dock crew on the day
of the incident in question?”

“Aye.”

“You authorized it?”

“Aye.”

“Did you authorize the said apprentice to operate one of the
winches?”

“Nay, my lord. I had no intention of him doing so.”

The old inquisitor raised his eyebrows. “Then how came he to
be posted there? Do you deny that he operated the winch on that day?”

“I do not deny it. I placed him under the command of one of my
deck officers, Kindor Nightstar. He was responsible for assigning Skylar a task
fitting his experience.”

Hitherto, Rasbus had subdued his powerful voice. But it rose
slightly, revealing a hint of suppressed anger, when he mentioned this last
fact.

“I see,” replied the inquisitor. “In which case, we have no
further questions for you at this time. You may be seated.”

Rasbus proudly turned and walked back to his seat.

The head inquisitor called for Kindor next.

“Wish me luck,” whispered Kindor out of the corner of his
mouth.

The old inquisitor asked Kindor a series of questions
similar the ones they asked Rasbus. All of which only served to clarify the
events prior to the incident. After the head inquisitor had finished, the
figure next to him asked his own questions.

“You claim that you knew this boy was an apprentice,” he
stated matter-of-factly. “Why then, did you assign him to operate one of the
winches? Were there no other experienced dockhands available?”

“No, my lord, though we had no dockhands to spare that day,
there were others who could have manned that winch station.”

“Then why did you not assign one of them?”

“Simply because I believed Skylar every bit as qualified as
any other dockhand.”

Here one of the beardless inquisitors chimed in.

“And do you still hold this high opinion of the apprentice
now that this mishap has occurred?”

“I do.”

A murmur of voices followed this affirmation, and several of
the gray figures seemed to rouse, as if they were statues come to life, and
began scribbling notes on parchment. The beardless figure merely smiled
insidiously in reply.

The head inquisitor dismissed Kindor.

“They’ll call you next,” Kindor whispered as he sat down
again. “Don’t let them intimidate you—stand your ground.”

Though nervous, Skylar’s anger was already mounting. He had
begun to sense that the inquisitors had already chosen Kindor as primary
culprit in the matter. They would question Skylar, find him inadequate, and
thus prove Kindor’s judgment lacking. He felt determined to prove them wrong.

“Skylar Lancewright,” called the head inquisitor. Skylar
inhaled sharply and rose to his feet. As he approached the interrogation spot,
he found his legs wobbled as he walked.
Just stay calm
, he told himself.
Closer up, the six inquisitors looked even more menacing. They stared at him
with their cold eyes, their brows frozen in perpetual scowls.

“You are the apprentice that has been mentioned today, are
you not?” questioned the old inquisitor.

“I am, my lord,” replied Skylar.

“You concur with the events thus far presented?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I want you to provide us with a detailed account
of all that proceeded from the time the docking procedure commenced until the
accident occurred.”

Skylar swallowed, then began to recount the events, which
lived so vividly within his memory that he had no difficulty whatever
remembering even the minutest detail. The six inquisitors did not interrupt him
as he spoke, but studied him with their stone faces, one or more of them
occasionally jotting down a note. When he had finished his account, the head
inquisitor nodded and opened his mouth to speak.

“You claim, Skylar Lancewright,” he began, “that you did all
that you could do to activate your winch’s emergency release, but the release
failed. You also claim that a full-throttle reverse likewise failed. We have
therefore only to substantiate or nullify these claims. Will the chief engineer
please come forward?”

Skylar heard the steady sound of heavy footsteps on the hard
floor, then a figure appeared at Skylar’s side. He dared not turn to look for
fear of breaking protocol.

“Engineer,” continued the inquisitor, “after the incident in
question occurred, did you inspect this young apprentice’s winch for defect?
From the report, it appears that it was the winch station 47.”

“Yes I did. Standard procedure,” replied the engineer as
though he were offended by the question.

“And did you find anything amiss?”

“No.”

“You tested the emergency release?”

“Of course. It worked perfectly. The throttle functioned
perfectly, as well.”
“Very good. You may be seated.”

The chief engineer turned and walked back to his seat.
Skylar felt his face growing hotter with every step he heard. He knew the winch
had malfunctioned. He had tried everything. But how could he prove it?

The head investigator returned his gaze to Skylar, all the
while stroking his gray beard.

“It would appear,” he said after several moments, “that you
did not know how to properly operate the winch. Otherwise, as your chief
engineer has testified, it would have worked perfectly.”

“It wasn’t working perfectly!” Skylar blurted out angrily.
“I know how to operate that winch. It stopped working. There wasn’t anything
else to be done but what I did.”

The old inquisitor’s eyes narrowed.

“You speak boldly—or perhaps foolishly—for a young
apprentice. We shall forgive your insolence, for I see that you truly believe
what you say. But see that you learn to tame your tongue. As regarding your
claim that the winch malfunctioned, you can provide us no proof but your word
alone. You mistakenly believed the winch malfunctioned.”

“It
did
malfunction,” cried Skylar. “I know it did.
If you would just listen—”

“Silence!” shouted the old inquisitor, rising to his feet,
his gravelly voice echoing through the room. “You will hold your tongue, unless
we permit you to speak.”

Skylar glared back at the old man, his chest heaving from
emotion, his lips pressed firmly together. How he wanted to speak his mind. It
wouldn’t do any good. He knew that. There was nothing he could do to convince
them. It was over.

With trembling limbs, the head inquisitor slowly sank back
into his chair.

“Now,” he continued, “as I was saying, without further
evidence, we must conclude—”

“My lord?” came a voice from the audience. The head
inquisitor looked up sharply, visibly agitated that anyone would be so bold as
to interrupt him. His anger, however, quickly vanished from his face when he
saw who it was.

“Ah, yes, Captain Arturo. You wish to make a comment?”

“If it pleases the board, I propose that we test the
veracity of the apprentice’s claim.”

The old inquisitor raised a gray eyebrow. “A test you say?”
he said, skepticism apparent in his voice. “What sort of a test, Captain?”

“I believe we can recreate the right conditions that the
winch was under when it allegedly malfunctioned.”

“Recreate the conditions, Captain?” the head inquisitor
asked in astonishment. “I hardly think that it is worth our time or worth
putting more lives in danger by attempting to recreate these events solely for
the purpose of validating this very weak claim.”

“My lord,” he replied, “I do not believe it a waste of this
court’s time to come to a thorough verdict in this matter. A discrepancy exists
between the claims of the chief engineer and this apprentice. I desire to know
the reason. If the apprentice is mistaken, so be it. But I want to be certain
that winch is in proper working order. Lives depend on it functioning
correctly.”

“It is functioning correctly, I tell you!” shouted a voice
that Skylar recognized as the engineer’s. “It’s a waste of time. There’s
nothing wrong with that winch.”

“Calm yourself, Mr. Engineer,” said the head inquisitor. “No
one doubts your competency. But the captain has the right to demand further
investigation. I only wish to know how he intends to accomplish this test in a
safe manner.”

“Those details will only be important if they support the
apprentice’s claim. Without further waste of the court’s time, I respectfully
request the board grant me a few hours in which to execute my plan.”

The old inquisitor paused, frowning in thought. Then he
slowly turned and looked at the other gray figures beside him. In turn, each
nodded slowly. The head inquisitor turned back to Arturo.

“You have precisely two hours, Captain. I hope this test of
yours is worthy of our time. Harbor Master Rasbus, see that the captain has
whatever he needs to expedite his test. Until then, this court is adjourned.”

“Thank you, my lord,” replied Arturo.

Captain Arturo’s plan was ingenious in its simplicity. With
Rasbus’ permission, he had enlisted the aid of both Skylar and Kindor, in
addition to the chief engineer, who grudgingly complied, and two other
dockhands. His plan was to attach the cable of the winch Skylar had been using
to the cable of a winch on the opposite side of the deck. Gradually, two winch
operators would reel in their cables. Once the lines were taut, the operator of
Skylar’s winch would incrementally increase the tension on the cables from each
end. When the tension gauge neared the level at which Skylar had attempted to
activate the winch’s emergency release, the winch operator would try to do the
same on Skylar’s winch. Should it fail again the winchman on the opposite side
would merely activate his emergency release, and thus eliminate any danger.

The chief engineer manned the winch Skylar had been using on
the day of
the incident
. Within short order the group, under Captain
Arturo’s concise directions, had prepared everything to perform the test.
Skylar watched intently as the two sagging cables tightened, his own muscles
tightening with every passing second.

Gradually the needle of the gauge moved, the tension rising
higher. Every millimeter it moved brought him closer to his fate. What would
happen? He knew the winch had malfunctioned before. He couldn’t be sure it
would happen again. Perhaps it had been a fluke. Perhaps when he had detached
the cable from Arturo’s ship, the problem had somehow righted itself.

“We are nearing maximum load, Captain,” said the chief
engineer. “It could take more load, but I advise against it.”

Arturo acknowledged the engineer’s statement by turning to
Skylar. “What was the pressure reading on your cable when you first attempted
the emergency release?”

“15,000 terapascals, Sir.”

“Very good. What does our chief engineer read from the
gauge?”

“14,500.”

“Take it to 15,000.”

The chief engineer shook his head and spat on the ground. “I
don’t like it,” he grumbled, as he turned back to the controls and brought the
winch back to life. After a minute, he halted it again.

“15,000, Captain,” he said gruffly. “And no more. We’re in
dangerous territory.”

“Proceed, then, Mr. Chief Engineer. Activate the emergency
release.”

The chief engineer lifted the cover for the emergency
release button. Skylar squeezed his fists, his fingernails digging into his
palms. The engineer pressed the red button. Skylar clenched his teeth and
closed his eyes, willing the contraption to fail.