Rule of Evidence (21 page)

"They said I can't see anybody. How'd you manage this?"

"Commander Hughes. She's giving you counseling, remember?"

"I—"

"She's your doctor, Jen. They have to let you see your doctor."

The message got through. Jen nodded rapidly. "When?"

"She's going through search procedures right now. She'll see you in person in a few minutes."

"Okay." Jen swallowed and sat straighter. "It's ridiculous. They'll see that and I'll be out of here."

"Yes." A red light blinked in one corner of Paul's "window." "I've got the thirty-second warning before they cut this off. Should I send your father a message?" Not that he'd necessarily get it for a long time with the
Mahan
out on patrol.

"No! We'll fix this and then tell him."

The blinking light sped up, indicating only seconds remained. "I love you. I'm with you."

"Tha—"

The screen blanked. Paul stood up and left the small visiting room. Outside the door, a master-at-arms stood at parade rest awaiting him. Paul looked at the sailor.
Every other time I've seen a master-at-arms I've thought of them as being on my side. One of the good guys. And now they're holding Jen in the brig. Like Commander Carr, they're just doing their jobs
. "Do you know Petty Officer Sharpe?"

The master-at-arms nodded. "Ivan Sharpe? Yes, sir."

"He works for me."

"Yes, sir. That doesn't matter, sir."

Paul met the master-at-arms's eyes. "Professional courtesy. He believes she's innocent."

"Yes, sir." Totally noncommittal.

Frustrated and angry, Paul realized he'd been off the
Michaelson
for hours. He headed back for the ship, wondering what to do. Talk to Sharpe.
Find out if Jen's got a lawyer assigned yet. Why did Alex Carr have to be assigned to prosecute her
?

Approaching the
Michaelson
's quarterdeck, Paul rapidly saluted the national ensign aft, then Ensign Gabriel, the officer of the deck. "Request permission to come aboard." Gabriel watched after him, startled by his abruptness. Paul turned right off of the quarterdeck and ran straight into Commander Garcia, who glowered at him. "Where the hell have you been all afternoon, Sinclair?"

"Sir, I . . ." Paul told him.

Garcia's eyes narrowed, then he nodded. "You've got the rest of the day off. Put in for as much leave as you need." He turned away, then looked back with a glare. "Make sure Chief Imari knows everything she needs to know while you're wrapped up in this."

Stunned, Paul watched him go through a hatch and disappear. "Thank you, sir."
Life and death. Garcia's a pain the butt for lesser issues, but when it comes down to life and death he can be a decent human being
.

There was a message waiting for him in his stateroom. Paul didn't recognize the number and hurriedly dialed it, thinking it might be from Jen's newly appointed lawyer.

But when the screen cleared he immediately recognized the woman who answered, as well as the man who joined her. "Paul! Surprise!"

"Mom? Dad?" Paul couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yes. We got a contract job up here on Franklin and thought we'd surprise you."

"That's, that's great."

"I know you're probably not ready for us and you probably have a lot of work every day, but we should have some opportunities to get together. You father and I really want to tour your ship and see how it compares to the old relics we used to sail around in up here."

"Sure."

"And we're both really looking forward to finally meeting this girl of yours we've heard so much
and
so little about."

"Uh . . ."
Gee, Mom and Dad, my girlfriend's in pretrial confinement in the brig, awaiting court-martial on charges of killing over sixty of her fellow crewmembers and sabotaging her ship.

I know you want to see the woman I haven't yet told you I want to marry, but the brig probably won't allow all of us to visit her
.

I think I can safely wonder how things could possibly get any worse today
.

Lieutenant Ahmed Bashir, United States Navy, Judge Advocate General's Corps, was a few years older than Paul, but looked far too young to be Jen's lawyer in Paul's eyes. He wanted somebody who looked like he or she had argued and won cases in every court and venue. But the best lawyer he knew had been assigned not to defend Jen, but to prosecute her. He could only hope Bashir could go toe-to-toe with Alex Carr and not get steamrollered. "When can you get Jen out of the brig?"

Bashir sighed. "I doubt I'll be able to do it all."

"Why not? Do they think she's going to run away on a space station?"

"It's not about that. It's about the safety of the station."

"What?"

"Look." Bashir leaned back and spread his hands helplessly. "This is how the government's looking at it. Lieutenant Shen is charged with sabotaging the equipment on the
Maury
, causing it to blow up and kill scores of sailors. If she's free on Franklin, she could presumably do the same thing here."

"That's so completely ridiculous."

"Maybe. But the government's convinced the military magistrate, so Lieutenant Shen is in the brig and in the brig she will almost certainly remain."

Paul slumped back.
Great. This guy isn't even going to fight for her
. "Have you even talked to her yet?"

Bashir picked up on Paul's tone of voice and attitude, leaning forward and pointing both fore-fingers at him. "Yes. I have. And I'm going to do everything I morally and legally can to get her acquitted of these charges. Clear?"

"Clear. What can I do?"

The Navy lawyer relaxed again, shaking his head. "I don't like this. I don't mind telling you. Secret Article 32 Investigation. Secret findings. Secret hearings. I've demanded to see all the evidence they've compiled to justify those charges against Ms. Shen, but as far as I know right now it's all circumstantial."

"Won't that help us?"
When we tried Silver on circumstantial evidence, they didn't want to convict him of some charges because of the uncertainty of his guilt
.

"It should, but . . ." Bashir rubbed his face. "You try someone for one murder on circumstantial evidence, and everybody gives them the benefit of the doubt. Try them for six murders on circumstantial evidence and they assume they're guilty. Why? Because they've been charged with something extra bad."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Tell me about it. But that's the way it works. People figure if someone's charged with something so bad, there must be good reasons." Bashir slapped his desk. "Even if there aren't. Tell me about Jen Shen."

Paul spoke, at first hesitantly, then more quickly. Bashir listened closely, occasionally asking questions. "She sounds like a great officer."

"She is a great officer!"

"But they're trying her for some pretty horrendous crimes. Why?"

"I hoped you know."

Bashir thought, looking up at a corner of his office. "This is a big deal, of course. The
Maury
badly damaged. A lot of her crew dead. Lots of attention. A lot of people wanting to blame the South Asians even if that means we start shooting. The authorities have to find a cause, and I'm sure they don't want to find one involving the SASALs."

"Are you saying they're going to use Jen as a scapegoat?"

"Maybe. She seems like an odd choice, though. And they'll have to fill in some blanks if they hope to make that stick. I can't see Alex Carr playing along with that kind of thing, either." He looked closely at Paul. "You could be asked to testify against Lieutenant Shen, you know."

Paul's laughter sounded harsh even to him. "Let them. I'd back Jen one hundred percent."

Lieutenant Bashir rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and smiled halfheartedly. "I'm sure. Odds are the prosecution realizes that. Besides, they don't want to build sympathy for Lieutenant Shen, and putting her officer boyfriend up on the witness stand is likely to do just that. Still, those questions you said the agents were asking Lieutenant Shen. If they uncover any evidence which might make you look wronged, they might still do it."

"Evidence that I've been what?"

Bashir looked away for a moment, plainly uncomfortable. "Is there any of that?"

"Any of
what
?"

"Indications that since meeting you Lieutenant Shen has committed personal indiscretions, been involved in other relationships—"

"No!"

"Paul, I understand your emotions, but I need to be aware of anything which might impact on Lieutenant Shen's defense. I assure you nothing you tell me will ever—"

"There's nothing to tell you!"

"I won't be able to prepare to counter anything they find if I'm not already aware of it."

Paul fought to control his temper, feeling his face warming with anger. "Sir. There's nothing to be aware of."

Bashir looked down at his hands, speaking carefully. "Nobody's perfect. You know the Navy. Long separations. Close working relationships—"

"It hasn't happened. Jen would've told me. She's not perfect. But she's honest. She wouldn't lie to me."

"It wouldn't have to be an actual indiscretion, you realize, just something that looked like one. Anything which an outsider might interpret as, uh, infidelity towards you."

Relax. He's trying to help
. "I swear I don't know of anything like that."

"Nothing that anyone might twist around?"

"No. I've never heard of anything."

"What about you?"

"What?!"

"Anything that might imply fooling around on your part? Something that would've made her jealous."

I don't believe this. I do not believe it
. "No."

"Are you going to be available at any time during the trial?"

"I'll be there every day."

Bashir's eyebrows rose. "I thought you were assigned to a ship."

"I am. They just put her in restricted availability. She needs a lot of work inside and her hull took a lot of damage from debris from the
Maury
. Not structural stuff, but sensors and that kind of thing. The
Michaelson
won't be going anywhere for months, and my department head and commanding officer have both told me to take as much time off as I need."

"Well, good. I guess."

"I want to be able to see Jen. In person."

"I'm not sure—"

"Please."

Bashir rubbed his forehead. "Okay. I'll do everything I can. If you know anyone with any influence at the brig, it wouldn't hurt to ask them to help. And I'll have to make sure the government doesn't object."

"Commander Carr and I . . . have worked together before."

"Really?" Bashir's smile was rueful. "Then you know what a challenge defending Lieutenant Shen is going to be. I understand the government even tried to get a statement out of a chaplain who counseled Lieutenant Shen after she got back to Franklin."

"Commander Hughes?"

"Yeah. She told them to pound sand. My kind of chaplain."

"Mine, too."

"I'll let you know as soon as I've had a chance to look at the government's case. I want you to see everything as well, since you apparently know Lieutenant Shen better than anyone else." Bashir paused. "Except maybe her father. And his ship, I understand, won't be back from patrol until the court-martial's likely to be over. I wonder if he even knows what's happening?"

"I don't know. Jen asked me not to send him anything, but he might hear from someone else. If the
Mahan
gets any mail or news updates."

"Well, nothing we can do about that." Bashir rose and extended his hand. "I won't say anything stupid like 'don't worry.' But people like to say I'm smarter than I look."

Paul grinned, feeling a bit better, and shook Bashir's hand. "You'll win this case."

"Against Alex Carr? That'll be a feather in my cap. I'll call you, Paul. Try to get some rest until then. You look pretty beat up."

I bet Jen looks worse. How can I rest with her alone in the brig
? "Okay."

His parents took the news with outward calm. "Oh," was all Paul's mother said. His father said nothing at all and just tried not to let anything show in his expression.

Somehow, Lieutenant Bashir, Sheriff Sharpe and Chaplain Hughes were able to get the necessary strings pulled for a visit to the brig to actually see Jen in person. Jen had obviously done her best to look good, though given the limitations of her cell and her unadorned uniform that still left her appearing far from great, especially in the bare surroundings of the brig's secure visiting area. From the look in her eyes, Paul could tell Jen knew that she looked every inch a prisoner. But she stepped forward as if she were on the bridge of her own ship, managed a small smile and extended her hand to Paul's father. "Commander Sinclair. It's a pleasure to meet you."

To Paul's relief, his father took the offered hand. "Retired. I'm just plain Frank Sinclair, now." He gestured to Paul's mother. "And this is the other Commander Sinclair. Also retired."

Jen nodded and smiled again. "A pleasure, ma'am."

Paul's mother made a small smile as well. "I have to admit, Lieutenant Shen, I never imagined meeting you for the first time in this, uh, environment."

Jen's smile grew even more forced. "Believe me, it's not my idea. And please call me Jen."

"Alright . . . Jen. Please, let's sit down."

Jen sat in one the plain metal chairs, which was bolted securely in place like every other object in the visiting room. Jen's movements were stiff, and she shot Paul a quick glance before looking back at his parents. "Thank you. How'd you get up to Franklin?"

Frank Sinclair shrugged. "A couple of retired commanders ought to know enough people to get them a space-available slot on a shuttle. But actually we're up here working for Con-Dyn on some system upgrades for the station.;"

"Paul tells me you've both been in space before."

"That's right. I rode one of Genghis Conner's research platforms. That's where I met Mrs. Sinclair. She was a ship driver like you two."

"That's what Paul said. What ships, ma'am?"