Scaevola's Triumph (Gaius Claudius Scaevola trilogy Book 3) (56 page)

"A fair point," Gaius said. "Now, tell me. Why do you want to stay behind?"

"Who says I do?" Gerenthe asked, in a supercilious tone. "I was just −"

"I've already declared that I'm leaving, according to orders," Gaius said. "The discussion's about staying, there's two of us here, so you must be the one raising the option to stay. You would hardly want to alter direct orders unless you had a good reason."

"Your sister did try to kill me," Gerenthe said in a supercilious tone. "I want to see her get what she deserves."

"Why would she go about killing you by blowing up that building?" Gaius asked.

"Clearly she knew I'd be there," Gerenthe said.

"How?" Gaius asked. "I mean, particularly since you weren't."

"I often go there," Gerenthe replied, this time defensively, as if it suddenly occurred to him that he might have been better advised not to have tried this approach.

"So you'd know the management quite well?"

"Yes."

"As a matter of interest, exactly why do you go there?" Gaius asked curiously.

"It's a pleasure house of dubious legality," Marcellus offered. "Like a Terran brothel, except of course for anatomical reasons the pleasures have to be synthetic. The Ulsians of this class do have vestigial −"

"Get out of here!" Gerenthe said angrily, as if almost embarrassed. "You're only a −"

"He stays," Gaius commanded. "That's a direct order."

"Can't go now," Marcellus informed Gerenthe in very blunt Ulsian.

"The explanation presumably means that there will have been Ulsians specially involved with the Space Marshall?" Gaius asked Marcellus.

"There will be," Marcellus confirmed.

"Then, back to the main question," Gaius said with a bitter smile. "I assume it was you and not some image on board your ship, attending the staff meeting you called?"

"What are you accusing me of?" Gerenthe said angrily.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," Gaius said. "I am establishing that it was you on board your ship, and not an image covering for you while you were whoring or whatever down below."

"I'm most insulted!" Gerenthe said, as he stood up.

"You needn't be," Gaius said. "I shall believe you completely if you say you were on board your ship."

"Of course I was!"

"Then having established that," Gaius said firmly, "why would Lucilla think you were at that place when I'd already told her you were on board your ship?"

"You told her that? That's a breach of security! It's −"

"I told her that I'd be meeting you there," Gaius said flatly, "which was why I couldn't spend the evening on Ulse with her. I have the authority to do that. So, I repeat, what makes you so certain she thought you were there, when she knew you were not?"

"I . . . I guess I must have been wrong," Gerenthe said, his head slightly bowed. "You are correct. We must leave at once. We shall jointly issue the departure."

"I am relaying your order right now," Marcellus offered. "You should rejoin your ship, especially since your ship has the honour of leading the flight."

"Yes, of course," Gerenthe nodded. He seemed somewhat less confident as Marcellus led him away.

"I am initiating motor sequences," Marcellus said, when he returned. "You wish to give orders, or do you trust me to set off."

"Or do you not trust me not to turn around and go back, in case that evidence might help Lucilla?" Gaius smiled bitterly.

"Oh, it will," Marcellus smiled. "That was a brilliant move on your part, I might add."

"Except nobody at the trial will know about it," Gaius smiled wistfully.

"On the contrary, I am a machine so I can give evidence and I have relayed the entire conversation down to the court computers. It is now mandatory evidence, and it establishes, as long as Lucilla remains resorting to machine evidence only, that she knew Gerenthe would not be in that building. That makes the case that she tried to kill him ludicrous."

"You realize I didn't tell Lucilla that at all," Gaius said quietly.

"Of course," Marcellus said. "Nobody said you did. Nor will anyone say you did."

"But . . ."

"The machine evidence," Marcellus pointed out, "is that you said you told her. There is no machine to contradict that, so it is undisputed."

"But you knew that wasn't true?"

"I also know Lucilla did not blow up the building," Marcellus said. "Not think, suspect, or anything like that. I know. Accordingly, I am misleading nobody."

"A bit devious?" Gaius smiled.

"I am your companion," Marcellus pointed out, "so I have to be made like you." He paused, to let the effect of this sink in, and just as he sensed Gaius was about to respond, he added, "Oh, as a matter of information, we are now departing at a velocity of forty kilometers per second, and we are about to fire main motors. We shall reach a speed where the relativistic effects become pronounced in about eight hours, and I suggest you should have had a further meal by then, and go to bed. In the meantime, if there's anything I can do . . ?"

"Tell me how to avoid the disaster," Gaius muttered.

"And which disaster are you thinking about?"

"This immense fleet is heading off to fight what is presumably the key battle in this war," Gaius said. "We know the enemy has to commit virtually everything he has to more than match this fleet, and Ulse has few reserves. If Ulse loses this battle, it soon loses everything."

"We could win," Marcellus pointed out. "Surely you're not −"

"The problem is," Gaius said, "we have a dysfunctional command. We cannot fight amongst ourselves and defeat a united enemy. Tell me how to avoid that, without surrendering to Gerenthe?"

"I can do better than that," Marcellus said. "I shall also send the record of the last conversation to the representative of the Ulsian High Command."

Gaius stared quizzically at his companion.

"What we have," Marcellus smiled, "is evidence that Gerenthe had some personal reason for not proceeding immediately, and he was prepared to lose strategic advantage to pursue that. We have evidence that Gerenthe may also have put personal pleasure before duty, and we have evidence you are concerned about getting there quickly to gain the best strategic position. It will help resolve matters in your favour. Now, what I suggest you now do is familiarize yourself with the current Plotkyn orrery, and decide where you wish our fleet to try for initial positioning."

Chapter 39

Lucilla held back a tear as she watched the news. Naturally, the main news was watching the huge fleet depart. A news scout ship followed, and relayed images back to Ulse, and these images were interspersed with images from Ulse itself. The Ulsians were subdued, for most realized that their future existence depended on what happened. If this fleet were destroyed and the Ranhynn joined the M'starn, Ulse, now defenceless but for the ground forces, must fall.

But this was a mighty fleet, more powerful than any fleet ever sent by Ulse at the peak of its expansion, and two winning commanders led the fleet. Success must follow, surely. The thought crossed Lucilla's mind that by adding the 'surely' the commentator was not exactly convinced.

Her young lawyer had come to console her. As he said, he might not be close, but he wanted to assure her he was a friend, and if she wanted one, he would be there. Lucilla thanked him. Yes, she did need company that day.

Yet despite his seemingly inexhaustible cheerfulness, it was hard not to feel alone, an alien in an alien land.

* * *

Over the next few days, her lawyer would appear promptly at noon, and would cheerfully announce that all was well.

"What has happened?" she asked on the fourth day.

"Nothing!" came the cheerful reply.

"And why is nothing so good?" she asked.

"Because no further problems have arisen," her lawyer said, with a cheerful wave. "I have always been confident, but there was always the nagging doubt that something new would turn up that might cause us trouble."

"It could turn up at the trial," Lucilla said doubtfully.

"No problem."

Lucilla stared at her lawyer, almost in disbelief. "You think that would be no problem? Why?"

"Because you have adopted for machine evidence only," he beamed. "Ulsian protocols require all machines with evidence relevant to a prosecution to lodge it immediately, so that it can be verified, and in case a malfunction loses it."

"So?" a puzzled Lucilla asked. "Your machines could be manipulated, and . . ."

"Exactly so!" her lawyer beamed again. His enthusiasm bubbled as he continued, "I could make an immediate impression by lodging a formal protest!"

"Oh?"

"Indeed so, and so simply. That would be clear evidence of avoiding protocols, in which case it would clearly raise the possibility of tampering, and accordingly the admissibility of that machine evidence must be denied on the spot. I would have my first triumph by citing elementary law."

"Oh," Lucilla said, now no longer querying.

"Trust me," he said. "This is an easy case. All you have to do is be ready in three days."

"I suppose I don't have much choice," a depressed Lucilla said softly.

"I know this will be harder for you than for an Ulsian," the lawyer said, "but it is imperative that you accept procedure. You must be calm, you must be confident, and above all else you must trust me on matters of procedure. Let me explain what will happen.

"After the formal opening of procedure, the prosecution must formally present all its evidence. During this period, you must remain absolutely silent. I shall also say nothing."

"But . . ."

"If there is a flaw in their evidence," the lawyer said, "if you raise the issue at that time, they can correct the flaw, but if we leave raising such issues until the prosecution case is over, they cannot present further evidence without our permission."

"But the flawed evidence remains. If we simply point out the flaw . . ."

"Flawed machine evidence is struck out and cannot be considered."

"That's easy to say, but the fact is that Ulsians will remember, and −"

"Oh no! Machine evidence is analysed for logic by machines. If evidence is struck out, it is not available to the assessing machines. A court cannot over-rule the conclusion of a logic analysis."

"Suppose someone got at such machines and changed their rules?"

"If anyone could do that," the lawyer admitted, "you would be doomed, but nobody has even got close to success in nineteen million years, and it won't happen now. So, remember this, when the case starts, everything will go the prosecution's way. That is our strategy to let this happen, so you must bear with it. You must not start questioning procedures, but you must try to stay calm. You must also be in formal uniform, with your decorations during the entire trial."

"Is that important?"

"Oh yes. It is imperative that you must be seen as an Ulsian hero. You have, after all, taken a major part in the liberation of a planet. It will ensure that every step is taken to ensure that everything is done correctly. You might have imagined that Gerenthe's allies could somehow sneak something in and hope that nobody examined proceedings too closely. The machine assessors will ensure that cannot happen. However, you also wish to create a good impression, and ensure that all required procedures in your favour are followed to the letter. Your decorations will ensure that happens."

Lucilla remained somewhat unconvinced, but nevertheless she agreed to wear them. Dressing up had never been a problem for her, and she conceded that Roman attire would probably fail to make the required impression.

* * *

Lucilla finally finished brushing her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror, then placed her decorations on her uniform. She then signalled that she was ready. She stood bravely by the cell door. Whatever happened this day, she was determined that she would behave as a Roman should. If nothing else, her brother would have a good account to remember her by.

The journey to the courtroom was something of a blur. She was so tired. Despite all the best of assurances, she felt so frightened, and she had slept very poorly for several nights. As she was escorted to her chair, she saw, to her surprise, her young lawyer ferretting through a huge pile of what looked like scrolls.

"I thought everything was done by screens?" she mentioned.

"Tradition!" the young lawyer beamed. "Now, when the court starts, you will be asked to reconfirm you wish to rely on machine evidence. Rise to your feet, say 'Yes!' and sit down again. Do not say anything else to the court at all. Do you understand?"

"Suppose I see something's wrong?"

"You must not speak!" he insisted, "but of course you can write me notes." He paused, and gave Lucilla that strange expression which was an Ulsian smile. "You must be brave," he said, "and you must trust me, please."

"I don't think I've much choice now," Lucilla said with a fatalistic tone in her voice.

"Remember what I told you," the lawyer said, "The prosecution goes first, and during this time, things will seem very bleak for you. You must be brave."

"You mean they'll lie?" Lucilla asked.

"Machines do not lie in the sense you mean," the lawyer said, "but they may be programmed to be very sparing of the truth, and to give messages in which the truth is deeply concealed. They may also be programmed to say specific things under specific questions, which effectively are, as you put it, lies."

"That's not very comforting," Lucilla muttered.

"You must not be distressed by that during this period," the lawyer emphasized, "I shall say nothing. You must trust me on this. If a machine has been programmed to lie, it will be programmed to continue doing so under questioning, and it is very unproductive to pursue that line unless really desperate. Worse still, those that follow will be programmed to adjust to any questioning that has gone on previously."