The Phoenix Project (36 page)

    
“Haven’t you ever had a moment of regret?”
she asked.

    
“Yes.”

    
“When?”

    
“I was about twenty years old,” he
recalled. “There was a robbery at a grocery I was in. I felt his insane anger
and apathy at killing someone.”

    
“I’ve seen that in minds.”

    
“I felt his apathy when he shot the store
clerk.”

    
“Oh.”

    
“And I could feel both of their emotions as
one of them died and the other stood at the counter looking at his body.”

    
“How could that possibly feel to someone?”

    
“Like I never wanted to have known those
feelings in the first place,” he replied and looked at his glass of champagne.

    
“Would you have refused training?”

    
“No, I can’t be less than I am.”

    
“Neither can I,” she said and raised her
glass of bubbling champagne. “What should we toast to?”

    
“Hope?”

    
“I have no problem with that, but why?”

    
“I haven’t felt it in years, but you
changed my mind.”

    
“Hope,” she said and clinked her glass with
his. Both sipped at the champagne and set the glasses down feeling pangs of
hunger in their stomachs.

    
“Where’s dinner?” Nadine asked.

    
“It’s being kept warm.”

    
“And what is dinner?”
  

    
“Turkey,” he said, purposely
omitting the rest of the meal.

    
“And?” she asked expectantly.

    
“Mashed potatoes.”

    
“Gravy?” she asked.

    
“Enough to sink a ship.”

    
“Well, let’s start! I’m hungry!”

    
“Hey,” Elliot said while he retrieved the
prepared meal from the food dispenser, “do you want to give the Ferine a fair
shot?”

    
“What did you have in mind?”

    
Maria entered into a familiar court in Honolulu after three weeks
of endless testimony. Her lawyer was at her side as they approached their
customary table. She saw a large carafe of coffee on the table and thanked God
it was there. She had barely four hours of sleep the previous night, broken by
fits of consciousness.

    
She sat down with her lawyer in the bright
oak—fitted room. The bright sunlight of a warm morning flowed through large,
tall windows on the wall past the prosecutor’s desk. She grasped the handle of
the carafe and poured a full cup of coffee. She dumped packets of sugar into it
while her lawyer watched her trembling hands.

    
“I have an excellent closing argument.”

    
“I’m sure you do. So does he,” Maria said,
looking at the prosecutor who had followed them in.

    
“He doesn’t have anything,” Dixon said in a lowered
voice. “All of the officers have supported you, every last one of them. Not one
bit of testimony has shown you in a bad light.”

    
“What about Flanders?”
she asked, pouring a generous amount of cream into her cup to counteract the
acid that had begun to irritate her stomach.

    
“The engineer?”

    
“All of that about hull stress analysis,”
she replied and grabbed her mug. Morning light glowed on her metal—shod face.

    
“He said the results were inconclusive.”

    
“So is my future!” Maria exclaimed in a harsh
whisper.

    
Myers finished his preparation for closing
arguments at his desk while giving a glance to her tortured face. They all
stood a moment later when the presiding judge entered from an oak door of rich
engravings and sat at his large, elevated desk.

    
“You may be seated.”

    
They took their chairs and the judge
continued.

    
“Closing arguments,” he said. “For this
trial, I have decided the defense will go first.”

    
“Shit!” Maria exclaimed under her breath. Dixon got up from his
seat and walked to the center of the floor.

    
“Your Honor, there is no conclusive
evidence against Admiral Maria Peterson. Every witness has corroborated her
testimony. Admiral Peterson has a long standing record of excellent service
with our fleet and no one has been able to call that fact into question. She
had no reason to compromise that outstanding record in the Battle at Outpost Fourteen. The loss of her
ship was necessary, given the circumstances, and her concern for her crew was
exemplary.

    
“The prosecution’s case rests on primitive
instincts below anyone’s comprehension and speculation on evidence that has not
been established. Reasonable doubt is not only here it is residing at my desk
and at yours, Your Honor. Thank—you,” Dixon
said and resumed his seat next to Maria.

    
Commander Myers rose from his chair and
took the place his counterpart had just vacated.

    
“No conclusive evidence? I say motive,” he
said raising a finger. “Every witness corroborates the Admiral’s testimony?
Wrong. Several witnesses could not confirm her testimony. Some have even shown
her recounting of events to be in considerable doubt.

    
“She does have a long service with our
fleet, but excellent?” he turned and looked to the Admiral. “She has a penchant
for juvenile remarks with her superiors, never showing them due respect. By
extension, neither has she shown proper respect for her superior’s orders. She
had every reason to compromise that record because it doesn’t exist.

    
“She may have spared her crew, but the loss
of her ship was necessary? There I will agree with the defense. It was
absolutely necessary for her reckless ambition.

    
“Primitive instincts? We all have them, and
so does the Admiral. I doubt her ability to get away with the selfish sacrifice
of a multi—billion dollar vessel. Thank—you, Your Honor,” Myers said and sat
back at his desk.

    
“We will adjourn,” the Judge declared. “You
will be notified when I have reached a decision.” He stood followed by the rest
of the people in the room, and left through the same door that he had entered.

    
“I feel so much better now,” Maria said,
slamming her coffee down on the table. Little waves of its creamy filling
lapped onto the table as she fled from the courtroom.

    
The panel allowed a flock of reporters and
members of high society to attend the last testimony in the large courtroom. A
near hysteria pervaded the room as Ranik was asked to the podium to issue his
closing televised testimony.

    
“I am aware of many rumors as to our
purpose here,” Ranik began. “I would like to assure you that these rumors are
false, but I can’t.”

    
A hum of derision came from behind him.

    
“I can’t because I have no hard proof that
we are telling you the truth. I have only my word.”

    
Another derisive murmur answered Lathiel.

    
“What I can show you is this,” he said, pointing
an index finger to the wall behind the panel members. The room grew dark as the
overhead lights dimmed and the windows changed tint to prevent outside light
from coming in.

    
An image of a blasted, huge planet sprung
to life on the wall as the panel members swiveled their chairs to view the
slideshow.

    
“This is the planet our home world of
Cartise orbits. The weapon that hit your world is there on Helas,” he said,
indicating a blackened crater on the dead planet.

    
“It caused so many secondary explosions
upon discharge that it killed over three hundred of the volunteers at the base.”
Another picture flashed onto the wall showing a shot of the interior of the
base. Fallen supports and charred walls littered a hallway without power.

    
“It can never fire again.” Another picture
flashed across the wall. The exterior of the base was shown. It was a charcoal
colored vista of destroyed buildings, walls, and land.

    
“This is the enemy fleet we fought.” The
image changed to one of starlit space. Tens of thousands of warships littered
the photograph. A collective inhalation of breath was heard across the room.

    
Dark grey warships of vicious natures
crowded the projected image. The smaller ships in the fleet looked like grey
stingrays, missing their tails. Instead of a mouth, their was a pincer like
indentation at the front of the hull. The heavier warships shared the same
appendage, but were several times larger and had great battle modules on their
wings. Each module was barbed with torpedo batteries and other weapons
emplacements.

    
“And this is a Nevargh. This is why we
chose to repair and activate the weapon.” The image changed again to a humanoid
being with dark olive scales and eyes sporting unusual red irises.

    
“This is our home world,” The projection
changed to show a green world with a violet hue.

    
“This is why we used the weapon our
Ancestors had left behind. I will now turn this over to my associate and
cousin, Lathiel,” Ranik said and sat down.

    
Lathiel left his seat and replaced his
relative at the stand. Light returned to the courtroom.

    
“We are not your enemies. We have come to
make amends for committing a grievous error on behalf of our race,” Lathiel
began. “In spite of our mistake that has caused this misunderstanding, we are a
peaceful people.”

    
Lathiel turned from the board of inquiry
and faced the audience.

    
“We ask your forgiveness for our
transgressions against you. We can supply you with whatever technology we have
to enhance your culture and we will gladly lend any aid we are capable of to
assist you in disaster relief. Our ways of the past have been violent, but we
chose to learn from our history and become a peaceful race. Though our recent
actions have suggested otherwise, I assure you that they were made under the
most extreme circumstances and under the greatest threat we have ever faced.”

    
“We have learned from our past and I humbly
ask you, all of you, to trust our sincerity. Thank—you.”

    
A long murmur of conversation lingered
throughout the room while Lathiel left the podium and returned to his seat. The
Alliance speaker
for the panel leaned towards his microphone.

    
“I now will allow for closing summaries
from our Coalition Representative, Lieutenant General Nadine Hanover.”

    
Nadine got up from her seat, a link in hand,
and walked to the podium. Billions of Coalition watchers across the known
worlds watched her and waited for the personal reflection of their comrade. She
placed a link on the podium and occasionally looked to it for reference during
her speech.

    
“Upon first seeing the Ferine ships outside
our solar system, I was suspicious. I was unsure of the validity of such an
alien vessel. To be honest, I believed it to be an Alliance deception of some kind.

    
“Until I met these two creatures,” she said
and gestured with her right hand to the Ferine seated nearby. “My suspicions
only graduated to concern, even fear, of these new beings that threatened our
race.

    
“And to me, they were a threat. From these
people came terror, violence, destruction, and death. Why shouldn’t I hate and
fear them?” Nadine asked and paused to look at her link. “Those were my
thoughts on the first day of contact.

    
“When I met them I was more disquieted.
They were alien beings of a malicious nature as far as I was concerned, but I
had a job to do. They seemed cowardly and rude to me, but I continued my role
of diplomat and recommended to our Council that we cease our military
aggressions against the Alliance.
I suffered a further setback when I was told that I would be the sole Coalition
representative on a ship populated by Alliance
officers with my only company being a couple of extraterrestrials.

    
“As I stand here today, I can tell you I
will never regret the decision to stay there and obey my orders.