Mutiny (19 page)

Baker entered Cole's cell.

"How are they treating you?" he asked.

"You didn't come here just to ask me that."

"No, I came to tell you that I was able to get the charges against Commander Forrice dropped." A satisfied smile crossed his face. "I knew they couldn't make it stick. Whatever you said to him, he never responded."

"How about Sharon?"

"Colonel Blacksmith? She'll still stand trial with you. There's no getting away from the fact that she was the first one to acknowledge that you were in charge of the
Theodore Roosevelt."
He paused. "Still, her fate depends entirely upon yours. After all, she can't be guilty of abetting a mutiny if you're not a mutineer."

"So how do things look?"

"There's a lot of extraneous crap, such as you making a deal with the enemy, or what the Teroni fleet did after they got the fuel, but if I can keep the focus on the justification for your actions—the saving of five million lives—I think we can pull out a victory."

"You sounded more confident a couple of days ago."

"A couple of days ago they hadn't announced the prosecuting attorney," answered Baker. "It's Colonel Miguel Hernandez."

"Never heard of him."

"No reason why you should," said Baker. "You've never been court-martialed before. He's the best the Navy's got." He frowned. "I can't figure out why he's here."

"He can't try it long distance."

Baker shook his head. "That's not what I mean. The Navy should
want
you to beat the charge. You did a good thing. You saved a lot of lives. You didn't make your captain walk the plank, or whatever they do these days. You behaved honorably—and you're the most decorated officer in the service. So why the hell did they send a man who hasn't lost a case in, God, it must be fifteen years, to prosecute you?"

"Let's hope it's to make it look good to the press," said Cole.

"Maybe," said Baker. "Still, I find it very disturbing. If I ever saw a case where they should toss in a prosecutor who's still wet behind the ears, this is it."

"There's no sense worrying about it," said Cole. "When do they start taking depositions?"

"They've already deposed Captain Podok, Lieutenant Mboya, and Lieutenant Briggs, and I believe they'd deposing Colonel Blacksmith right now."

"Shouldn't you be there to advise her?" said Cole sharply.

"A member of my staff is with her," answered Baker. "This isn't a civil proceeding, Commander. There's a limit to what we can do when a defendant is being deposed. Anyway, they tell me they'll get to you tomorrow. I'll try to be here for it."

"Don't bother," said Cole. "I've got nothing to hide and nothing to be ashamed of. I plan to answer every question truthfully."

"That's usually the best policy."

"When is Podok's hearing?"

"Three days from now, but the result is a foregone conclusion: a demotion of one rank and a return to active service."

"Not aboard the
Teddy R,
I hope?"

"Probably not."

"And she's really going to get off with just a slap on the wrist ?"

"It looks like it, which isn't to say she isn't one bitter ex-captain. She's been having a field day, telling the press that you took over the ship because you refused to take orders from a Polonoi."

"You're kidding!" exclaimed Cole. "She actually said that?"

"She's still saying it. I guess you don't get news holos in here."

"I assume the press is pointing out that it's bullshit."

"Not really. For one thing, the press isn't allowed to get a rebuttal from a prisoner."

"Even so," said Cole, "there have to be dozens of crew members who—"

"You're a mutineer," interrupted Baker. "She's giving them a reason for what you did, one that puts her in a favorable light by putting you in a bad one. Every time a crew member tries to explain that you aren't a bigot, some journalist points out that you're behind bars for deposing a Polonoi."

"Yeah, the press would love that kind of story, wouldn't it?" said Cole. "They love anything that confirms their belief that everyone in the military is a homicidal maniac, a rapist, or a bigot."

"It'll blow over as soon as the trial's done," said Baker. "Who knows? Maybe you'll even get another medal for what you did and you'll be the media's fair-haired boy again." Suddenly he smiled. "As your attorney, I've studied your career pretty thoroughly. I'd say you've used the media for your purposes just about as much as they've used you for theirs."

"My purpose was never personal advancement."

"Do you think they care?"

"No," admitted Cole. "If they did, they wouldn't be so malleable."

"Well," said Baker, "I just wanted to tell you about Commander Forrice. I'd better be getting back to work. I've still got two defenses to prepare."

"Thanks for stopping by," said Cole.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Commander?"

"Can you arrange for me to have visitors?"

"Anyone in particular?"

Cole shook his head. "No, just anyone from the
Teddy R
who might want to stop by. I'd like to see Forrice and congratulate him on the charges being dropped, but I have a feeling that if I expressly ask to see someone, they'll be denied entrance."

"Very likely," agreed Baker. "I'll see what I can arrange."

"Thanks," said Cole. "And if they're not going to allow me any holos, see if you can get me a couple of old-fashioned paper books."

"I'll do what I can," said Baker. He stood before the force field until a guard hit a control panel and created a momentary opening through which he could leave.

Cole spent the next two hours trying to remember stray incidents from his brief time on the
Teddy R
that might help his case, but he finally gave it up. He simply couldn't believe that his actions weren't justified, and he was certain that any reasonable military court would not only agree with him but commend him.

He was just about to lay down on his bare cot and try to take a nap when the force field briefly flickered and Forrice was allowed in.

"I heard the good news," said Cole. "Congratulations."

"It's ridiculous," said the Molarian. "I was too busy to respond, or I'd have told you that you should have taken over the damned ship the day Fujiama died."

"I won't tell them if you won't," said Cole with a grin.

"Have you heard what our beloved ex-captain has been saying about you?"

"Yeah."

"You don't look especially bothered by it."

"What do you expect her to say—that I had excellent reasons for relieving her and that I should be commended for my good judgment?"

"She can get away with what she's doing for a little while," said Forrice, "but sooner or later the press is going to get hold of what really happened on Benidos II, and then they're going to crucify her."

"You're a Molarian," said Cole. "What the hell do you know about crucifixion?"

"I know that all your greatest painters seemed fascinated with it."

"I think they were a little more fascinated with the guy who was
being
crucified in all those pictures."

"Whatever."

"Anyway, I'm glad you're off the hook."

"You'll beat the charges," Forrice said confidently. "I just wish Podok would stop spreading lies to the press."

"The media gets a lot more mileage out of lies and innuendos then it ever does from the truth," said Cole. "Later, after everyone has lost interest, they'll run a correction. Then they can't understand why the person they slandered is still pissed at them."

"You make them sound even more corrupt than the Molarian press."

"It's just the nature of things. Every lawyer starts out seeking justice and winds up seeking victories. Every doctor want to save his patients and ends up wanting to save his investments. And every journalist starts out caring about the truth and ends up caring about circulation."

"I'm sure glad you haven't become cynical and jaded," said Forrice, hooting a laugh.

"I'll leave that to all the inferior races I'm prejudiced against, starting with the Molarians."

Forrice hooted again. "You don't mind if I quote you to the press, do you? They found out where you're being held, and they're holding a vigil outside the building."

"I can use all the goodwill I can get," said Cole. "Buy them a drink, on me."

"I can't afford it," said the Molarian. "There must be a hundred of them."

"A hundred? There's a war going on. Haven't they got something better to do?"

"They smell a story," replied Forrice. "Their hero's suddenly a mutineer and a bigot. Who wants to read about war? This is a juicier story, and if they can just prove you raped Sharon Blacksmith or Rachel Marcos, or better still, a Polonoi, you'll make their year."

"I hate to disappoint them," said Cole, "but I'm going to walk before that tribunal one day next week at noon, and walk out a free man two hours later."

"Maybe instead of a drink I'll give them something to write about. Why should they have to wait for the trial to find out what their new hero was going to do to New Argentina before you stopped her?"

"Why bother?" said Cole. "It won't influence the trial. They already know why I took over."

"It'll make
me
feel better," answered Forrice. "By the way, have you given any thought to whether you'll return to the service?"

"I haven't left it," replied Cole. "Who's in command of the
Teddy R
now?"

"No one," answered the Molarian. "The ship's in port here. They're obviously not going to give it back to Podok, and I hardly think they'll make you captain as a reward for taking it over. I imagine they'll import a new captain."

"How about you?"

"They wouldn't even promote me to First or Second Officer
before
the mutiny, remember?"

"If I were you, I'd be damned bitter about that."

"When I'm through being outraged about you and Sharon, I'll be outraged about me."

"I haven't seen Sharon since our first meeting with Major Baker," said Cole. "Do me a favor and go see her after you leave here. She's bound to be feeling pretty isolated."

"I'll be happy to. And when I get back to the ship, I'll tell some of the others that you could both use some visitors."

"Will any of them be at the trial?"

"From what I hear, just Christine Mboya, Malcolm Briggs, and our pilot of the unpronounceable name. There are no other direct witnesses."

"They've got a holographic recording of the whole damned thing in their possession. I wonder why they need witnesses at all?"

"I have no idea," answered Forrice. "Which is my answer to almost anything the brass does."

"Ah, well, we'll get the trial over with in a few days and then everything will go back to normal."

He should have known better.

The guard entered his cell.

"Commander Cole, come with me please."

"What for?" asked Cole. "The trial doesn't start for two more days?"

"I just know I've been ordered to bring you to the conference room."

Cole got up and walked to the door. "Lead the way," he said.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not permitted to turn my back on a prisoner. You'll have to go first."

"Whatever you say."

"I
do
have something to say, sir."

Cole stopped and turned to him. "What is it?"

"I'm aware of your record, sir, and I know what happened aboard the
Theodore Roosevelt.
I swore an oath to carry out my orders, but I want you to know that I'm ashamed to be carrying out this one. We should be making you an admiral, not trying you for mutiny."

"I thank you for the sentiment, Sergeant . . . ?" said Cole.

"Sergeant Luthor Chadwick, sir. I just wanted to tell you that."

"I appreciate it."

Cole began walking. When he came to a fork in the corridor he stopped. "I've only been to the conference room once, Sergeant. I don't remember which way to go."

"To your left, sir."

"Thanks."

Cole walked a bit farther, finally recognized his surroundings, and speeded up his pace to the conference room, where he found Jordan Baker and Sharon Blacksmith waiting for him. Sharon's guard was stationed outside the room, on one side of the doorway, and Sergeant Chadwick took up a position on the other side. The door snapped shut after he stepped through.

"What's up?" asked Cole. "Have they thrown the case out of court already?"

"Sit down, Commander," said Baker, a troubled look on his face.

Cole took a seat next to Sharon. "Do you know what this is about?" he whispered.

She shook her head.

"Commander, we have a serious problem. What seemed a simple, open-and-shut case that would almost certainly be decided in your favor has somehow metamorphosed into a simple open-and-shut case that is almost certainly going to go against you."

"Nothing's changed," said Cole. "If they've faked some evidence, everyone who was on the bridge that day can testify to what happened."

"Nobody's faking any evidence," said Baker. "This has nothing to do with evidence."

"Then it can't be as serious as you make it sound."

"Would you like to know how serious it is?" said Baker. "I have just received an offer from Miguel Hernandez. If you will agree to plead guilty, he'll request a life sentence rather than the death penalty, and he'll drop all charges against Colonel Blacksmith."

Cole relaxed visibly. "You're interpreting this all wrong, Major. We've got 'em on the run. If he thought he could convict me, he'd never offer a deal."

"He's being generous, Commander. The Navy cannot afford to let you walk out of court a free man."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Cole. "Nothing's changed. You just said as much yourself."

Baker shook his head. "No, Commander. What I said was that the evidence hasn't changed."

"Okay, it's your show," said Cole. "Tell me what the hell's going on."

"It's your friends in the media."

"What do they have to do with anything?"

"Eventually the details of what happened during the mutiny were going to come out," said Baker. "But they came out at the very worst time."

"You
are
going to get to the point sooner or later, aren't you?"

"You recall that Captain Podok had been making headlines for a few days, accusing you of bigotry?" said Baker. "Well, the media latched on to that story, and now they're trumpeting the fact that you didn't mutiny when three million Benidottes were being killed, but that you only took over the ship when it was on the verge of killing five million Men on New Argentina."

"I didn't know what the hell Podok was going to do on Benidos!" snapped Cole. "I tried to countermand her order, but it was too late!"

"You know it, I know it, and anyone who's seen the holo log knows it," said Baker. "But according to the media, the story is not that you saved five million Men on New Argentina, but that the bigoted mutineer who hated his Polonoi captain sat idly by and didn't lift a finger to save three million Benidottes."

"They're actually reporting that garbage as truth?" demanded Sharon.

"They've got half the Republic believing it—and the other half hasn't heard about it yet," replied Baker. "If they still had lynch mobs, there'd be one forming outside this building right now." He paused. "The Navy's under too much pressure to let you walk. It doesn't matter what the evidence says and it doesn't matter what the circumstances were—they
have
to find you guilty. If they don't . . . well, surely you've read about what happens when the public stops supporting a war while the enemy is still shooting."

"Why can't I just tell them the facts of the matter?" asked Cole. "It's still a good story, probably a better one since it's true."

"It might have worked if you'd gone to them before Podok did, before they got hold of what happened to Benidos II and put their own sensationalistic spin on it—but anything you say now would sound like an excuse or a cover-up. Besides, they're way out on a limb on this story. If the truth comes out, that limb will come crashing down and they're going to sound like fools and dupes."

"That's because they
are
fools and dupes!" snapped Sharon.

"As long as their audience doesn't know it, they don't care what you think, Colonel," said Baker.

"I can't believe it!" said Sharon. "I know Wilson Cole's record. He has served with nonhumans his whole career. He has risked his life time and again on their behalf. Hell, you already met his best friend— a Molarian."

"You want a perfect galaxy," said Baker wearily, "and I'm trying to deal with the real one." He turned to Cole. "The Navy knows you did the right thing, Commander. That's why they offered you the deal. Colonel Blacksmith goes free, and at least you don't die."

"What if I say no?" asked Cole.

"Then they'll hold the trial, and they won't be able to resist the media pressure to find you guilty and execute you. It's as simple as that."

"And nobody—-not Fleet Admiral Garcia, not General Chiwenka, not the Secretary of the Republic—will say a word in my defense?"

"Not if they still want to be a Fleet Admiral, a General, and a Secretary of the Republic tomorrow morning," answered Baker.

"It makes me wonder why the hell I've been risking life and limb for them," said Cole. "I can't prove it, but I've got a gut feeling that a Teroni commander named Jacovic is more honorable than the whole fucking hierarchy of the Republic."

"I'd put money on it," said Sharon, making no attempt to hide her outrage.

"Do you want some time to think and discuss the prosecution's offer with Colonel Blacksmith?" asked Baker. "I can leave you two here and come back in an hour."

"No," said Cole. "Tell him I accept."

"Wilson!" shouted Sharon. "You can't do that!"

"If I turn it down, they'll kill me and jail you. If I accept, they'll jail me and turn you loose. It's an easy call."

"Fight it!" she said. "Force them to let the press in. Force the goddamned media to report the
truth!"

"The media will never be allowed into this court-martial," said Baker. "I guarantee they're not going to be allowed to make the Navy look bad."

"It's not fair!" she insisted.

"Save your breath, Sharon," said Cole. "I've agreed to their terms. You're a free woman. Go back to the ship."

"And you're a disgraced prisoner whose only sin was saving five million lives!" she shot back. "Where's the justice in that?"

"This court-martial isn't about justice anymore," said Cole. "It's about survival. If I survive, then a lot of people at the top won't. If they survive, I won't. And since they're holding all the cards ..."

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped. "Where's your sense of outrage?"

"You're going to see it pretty soon," he said ominously. "I just accepted a deal that set you free. Now get the hell out of here before they decide they were being too generous. If they lined both of us up before a firing squad, four out of five people would cheer, and the fifth would think we hadn't suffered enough."

She glared at him, but didn't reply.

"Well, actually, Colonel Blacksmith can't return to the
Theodore Roosevelt
immediately," said Baker. "I have to take your answer to Hernandez, have him print up the documents, and bring them to you to sign.
Then
she can leave."

"That's fine, Major. You might as well get the ball rolling right now."

"All right," said Baker, getting to his feet. "I'll tell your guards to take you back to your cells."

"I'd like two favors, Major," said Cole.

"Yes?"

"This is probably the last time I'll ever see Colonel Blacksmith, and I'd like to spend a few minutes with her. Can you tell the guards we're considering the offer? When you return, tell them you brought the papers in case I decided to sign them."

Baker nodded. "Sure, I can do that much for you, Commander. I'm just sorry I wasn't given a chance to win this case. It wouldn't have been hard," he added sadly. "What was the other favor?"

"I'm sure you must have a pen and some paper in your briefcase. Could you leave it with me until you get back? I'd like to write a note to the crew, thanking them for their support, and have Colonel Blacksmith take it to them."

"Happy to," said Baker, handing a pen to Cole. He pulled some paper out of his briefcase and layed it on the table. Then he walked on the door, stepped through to the corridor when it irised to let him out, and spoke in low tones to the two guards. Then the door snapped shut.

"You're a fool," said Sharon.

"I've been called worse," said Cole, pulling a sheet of paper in front of him and beginning to write.

"Who do I deliver this to?" asked Sharon.

"Just post it where the whole crew can see it," he said. "Probably the mess hall."

He spent the next few minutes writing, and when he was done he handed it to her.

"Read it to make sure I wrote legibly enough," he said. "If there's anything you don't understand, just point it out and I'll do my best to make it clear."

Sharon picked up the note and read:

I realized today that I owe the Republic no more loyalty than I owe the Teroni Federation. As such, I feel no obligation to keep any agreement I make with them. I have no intention of meekly accepting a lifetime of incarceration. It'll probably take me two or three years to find a weak spot, but I plan to break out of whatever prison they send me to. Once free I will get out of the Republic as quickly as possible and head to the Inner Frontier. The Republic's going to be too busy fighting a war to waste much time and manpower looking for one escaped prisoner, especially since by then my story might not sound like a series of denials. If anyone hears that I've escaped and has a hankering to do the same, my first port of call will be Binder X. I'll spend twenty days there; anyone who wants to join me is welcome to.

When you get to the ship, go to my cabin and take anything you want from it. Then tell Four Eyes that he can have anything that's left except the medals, which I keep in a small drawer. I want them jettisoned into space once the
Teddy R
takes off again.

I'm sorry I got you into this, but even knowing the results I'd do the same thing again under the same circumstances.

Sharon folded the note and tucked it in her uniform. "I'll make sure the crew sees this," she said.

"Thanks. I'd like them to know how much I appreciate everything they did for me aboard the
Teddy R."

"Do you have any messages for Podok?"

"Yeah," said Cole. "Tell her I only hate one Polonoi."

Baker returned a few minutes later, laid the printed agreement in front of Cole, waited for him to sign it, and then picked it up and put it in his briefcase.

"Colonel Blacksmith," he said, "you are now free to return to your ship. There is no mark against your record, no demotion in rank, and the suspension of pay while you were incarcerated has been waived."

She got to her feet, saluted, and left without even a glance at Cole.

"Have they decided where I'm to spend the rest of my life?" he asked when he was alone with Baker.

"Not yet," answered Baker. "Someplace remote, I'm sure. They don't want any outraged citizens taking it upon themselves to kill a discredited hero."

"How thoughtful of them," said Cole dryly.

"I'll probably see you once more before you leave," said Baker. "I just want to say again that I'm sorry things turned out this way."

"I'm probably even sorrier," said Cole.

"Guard!" Baker called out. "We're ready to leave."

Sergeant Chadwick entered the room. "Are you ready, sir?" he said.

"Yes, that's why I summoned you," said Baker.

"I wasn't referring to you, sir. Commander Cole is my responsibility."

"He gave up his commission five minutes ago, Sergeant," said Baker. "Now he's just Mr. Cole."