The Stars Came Back (57 page)

The others look at Libra and Helton in surprise.

Lib
ra: You are looking well! How is life treating you?

Helton: You would not
believe all that’s happened since we met. What brings you here? Oh, excuse me. Brother Libra, this is Col Lag. LT Kat. And Quinn, one of many long stories.

With each name, they exchange handshakes, even with Quinn, who regards the monk gravely.
The monk squats and looks Quinn in the eye with equal seriousness.

Quinn: Are you here for Ship? Said you might be coming.

Libra’s expression is friendly, he nods.

Libra: Are you taking good care of it?

Quinn nods back.

Libra: Good, good. Glad to hear that.

The monk stands up and addresses Helton.

Libra: I received an interesting message from someone named
Tajemnica
. Seemed like a good time to go back into the world for a bit, and here was as good a place to go as any. So, you found the mysterious flying abbey?

Helton: And
so much more.

Libra: (
Bemused) So the old stories
were
true. I only remember bits and pieces, now. I will have to reread my notes when I return. At the time I thought they were outlandish… Mysterious ways, indeed.

Helton:
What old stories?

Libra: Ones passed down by word
of mouth between senior members about the early days of the order. Factions within the church, the war, mission work. Time for that later. So, tell me all that’s happened. I recognize the Plataean uniforms, but didn’t know they were working here.

Lag: Anywhere there is a threat of war, at least a few of us show up.
Just wrapping up this one.

Behind them
Allonia and Kaminski come down the stairs together. He is in uniform and light armor with a rifle slung across his chest and a bag of gear in his hand. She is in her ship “uniform” with a shotgun slung across her chest, also with a bag of shooting gear. They head for the group gathered on the ramp.

Kaminski: Headed for the range. Back in a while.

Helton: Hey, I’d like you two to meet an acquaintance of mine, Brother Libra.

They walk over, and exchange handshakes.

Helton: Sergeant Kaminski. Allonia.

Kaminski: Howdy! Didn’t expect Helton to know a priest.

Libra: Monk, not priest. Common mistake.

Allonia: Hello, Brother.

Ship AI: (OC, male voice, urgently) We have a problem.

Helton:
What?!

Ship AI: (OC) Four grav tanks headed t
his way. Seymore not far behind with the police. He has an arrest warrant for Allonia.

Allonia: O
h no! They must have found out!

Kaminski: Found out
wha- Oh, SHIT!

Helton: WHAT?

Allonia: (Talking fast)
Taj
told me a while back. I’m genetically engineered. A prohibited person.

The others look at her in surprise.

Allonia: If they arrest me and do a genetic test I can be executed immediately, and anyone helping me is a criminal, too! Sorry! I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble!

Kaminski: Don’t be silly! Stupid law, you haven’t
done anything wrong!

Kat: If they arrest you, testing is almost automatic. Only way to avoid that is to avoid arrest.

Helton: We can’t fly, drives are down!

Kaminski: No vehicles around here can outrun the grav
-tanks!

Lag: And they can eventually burn
through even
this
armor if we can’t move.

Libra: Am I here at a bad time, Helton?

Helton: No such thing as a
normal
time around here. Ideas?

Allonia: (
To Libra) Can
you
do anything? Give me sanctuary, or something?

Libra: We do not
normally interfere in civil matters. What have you done that is such a crime?

Allonia: I haven’t
done anything, I didn’t pick my parents! My mere
existence
is against the law!

Helton: Sort of lik
e the Massacre of the Innocents; just
being born
was enough to condemn her.

Kat: Only way to not be arrested and tested is to have some sort of legal immunity. Can’t do that, though, unless you are a pol or a dip-

The Plataeans all look at Helton.

Kat:
Taj
, what’s required for a legal marriage here?

Ship AI: (OC) A simple ceremony, presided by a judge, justice of the peace, or recognized religious figure, and registration with the local government for legal status. If anything other than the standard legal contract is desired th
e contract must be registered in advance of the ceremony and legal recognition.

Kaminski: (
To Kat) Are you really proposing that?

Helton: (
To Kaminski) OK with it?

Allonia: Any
other
ideas?

Kat:
Taj
, can you register it before they get here?

Ship AI:
(OC) If you hurry.

Libra: You are asking me to
perform a
sham
marriage.

Helton: I’m asking you to save the life of a good woman, who has
committed
no crime. I’m not stupid enough to try and take advantage of her.

Ship AI:
(OC, quietly) Your predecessors saved me once, when
my
mere existence was in violation of the law. You would be using one questionable law of men to thwart a bad law being used by an evil man to extract revenge on those who foiled his nefarious plans. To save an innocent life. That surely cannot be a sin, can it?

Libra looks intently at them all.

Libra: Not exactly what I had planned for the day, and I definitely want to know all about what’s happening when this is over.

He nods, and waves them closer.

Helton: (To Kaminski) Want to be best man?

Kaminski: (
Muttering wryly under his breath) Never thought I’d be the best man at my own lady-friend’s shotgun wedding. And
smile
about it.

Lag: Lieutenant, ever been a maid of honor?

Kat: First time for everything. Quiritis might be a bit annoyed, though.

Helton: She’ll understand, all con
sidered.
TAJ
! Put out the word: folks have ten seconds if they want to attend! Fine day for gettin’ hitched! Got an illegal ship, may as well have an illegal wife!

Kaminski: Can’t wait for your encore.

Helton extends his left elbow to Allonia, waving with his other toward Brother Libra.

DISSOLVE TO

View of ramp, minutes later

The members of the wedding party now includes Sar and Kwon, Stenson, and a couple of his guys, no weapons visible. They are still at the top of the ramp, with Kat at the bottom as the four grav tanks glide up and surround it. Sitting on top of one of them, cigar sticking out of his mouth, legs in the hatch, is LT Saber, wearing light full-body armor with helmet visor up. He nods recognition to Lag.

Saber: What are
you
doing here, Sir?

Lag: Saving lives, Lieutenant.
You
have been put in a bind.

Saber: (
Sounding uneasy) Got orders to help enforce an arrest warrant on a military target, Sir. Just got word, all hush-rush, no details. Know anything about it?

Lag: The warrant is for someone that is allegedly a genetically engineered person.

Saber: Holy shit, Sir! Sorta’ makes sense, now, but how’s that get my ass in a sling?

Lag: The warrant is political. The person named is a
civilian
, the wife of a diplomat. She has immunity, not a military target. Someone is trying to create an incident and is using you to help make it as complicated as possible.

Saber. Ah, well… uh, crap, Sir.

Lag: In fact, the diplomat in question happens to be the same man that owns this ship, saved three battalions of friendlies, and flew you into the breach enforcement action. You can imagine how… awkward… being involved in the arrest or death of a diplomat’s civilian wife might be. The political, legal, and career implications could be messy.

Saber chews his cigar stub slowly, thoughtfully, not looking happy. He nods slightly, maneuvers the cigar over into one corner of his mouth.

Saber: So, who’s the supposed badass?

Allonia waves to him, a small, slightly embarrassed wave.
He shakes his head, snorts softly.

Saber: Thought this stunk. Got a bad vibe from the whole thing… Mind if we hang around, Sir? I’d sure hate to miss a party.

Lag: Not at all, Lieutenant! Not at all. Be happy to have you join the festivities. You’re even in time for the reception.

The Lieu
tenant grins around his stogie and slides down into his tank, pulling the hatch closed as he disappears inside. A moment later the tanks lift up and glides sideways so they are more alongside the ramp than facing into it, leaving more room straight down in front of it. The barrels rise up to 45 degrees, and looked at correctly, they look more like an honor guard at a wedding than warrant enforcers.

Kaminski: Think this’ll work?

Lag: Seymore’s not an idiot. I don’t care how many cops he brings, he’s not going to try to face down four grav tanks, no matter
how
mad he is. Only question is how trigger-stupid the rest of them are.

They watch silently as a convoy of lightly armored police vehicles roll down the road toward them. They halt forming a line in front of the ramp between the tanks, surrounding the ramp. Cops pile out, wearing body armor, guns drawn. Seymore
slowly gets out of one of the vehicles, impeccably dressed, a malicious smile on his face. He swaggers toward the foot of the ramp calmly with no obvious weapons, hands visible. He is followed by a police captain, a large, older police officer with bars on his shoulders, Sam Browne belt, reflective sunglasses, and carrying a folded piece of paper.

Seymore: (
Sneering) Hand her over and we won’t have to kill you all where you stand. Yet.

Kat holds out her hand to the officer. He hands her the paper. She glances at it briefly.

Kat: (Calmly) Your warrant is defective.

Seymore face falls for a second, then goes back to its normal smarmy display. The older cop with him shoots him a dark look.

Seymore: It’s fine. And even if it wasn’t,
we
have the tanks. She’ll be dead before you can get it before a judge to say otherwise.

Kat: None here by that name. Allonia’s last name is “S
trom.”

Seymore looks surprised, and his eyes dart away from the people at the top of the ramp back to Kat, to Helton, and back to Kat, then Allonia. The older cop’s face twists into an ugly gl
are as he looks at Seymore. He knows he’s being used.

Kat: Helton has been hired to act as a courier for us. His legal status is C2
diplomat
. As his wife, under your laws she has diplomatic immunity. You can’t do anything until you get a council decree that says she’s
persona non grata
, and give her a chance to leave in a timely manner.

Seymore’s eyes bug out
and his face flushes red, veins bulge on his neck. He sounds like he’s about to hyperventilate and blow a gasket.

Seymore: You… She… No… He… I’ll… D’OH!

Kat: (Raising her voice, to make sure the cops can hear) Military tanks are not going to help you enforce your defective warrant against a diplomat’s civilian wife! In fact, if you try to take
anyone
here by force, they will have no choice but to actively defend the ship, the military personnel, and the diplomat on board.

As she talks, the tanks move slowly around, slewing so they are more
clearly beside the ship facing the line of police vehicles than facing into its cargo hold. Simultaneously the gun barrels lower, training down to just over the police officer’s heads, implications obvious.

Kat: (
Flatly) Anyone fires a shot, the remaining bits get wiped up with a sponge.

The cops start to look back and forth among themselves. This was
not what they were expecting. A few of them stand up from their firing positions, slowly, and make a show of flicking safeties on and slinging their weapons, keeping their hands visible.

Kat: (
Cool and polite) When you have a valid warrant, for a person you have jurisdiction over, we can talk. Until then…