Rule of Evidence (22 page)

"The
Glenn
and the
Carpenter
." She smiled ruefully. "It was rough duty. They made me chief engineer on the
Carpenter
. I was always afraid I'd mess something up . . ." The smile vanished. "Oh, I'm . . . sorry."

Jen's polite smile froze. Silence fell, increasingly uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. "I'm innocent of these charges. Totally innocent."

Paul nodded. "I already told them that."

"Too bad you won't be allowed to serve on the court-martial."

Paul tried to think what to say next.
Say anything. What would I say if we were just together like usual? Some joke, I guess
. "I tried to pack it with members of the
Michaelson'
s wardroom, but I think they caught on to me."

Jen gave him a blank look, then smiled sardonically. "The lawyers? Of course they did. They all know you. I expect you're on a first-name basis with every lawyer on Franklin."

"Hardly."

Paul's father coughed. "Whistling past the graveyard, folks? It's a time-honored tradition in cases like this, but given the severity of the charges—"

Jen grimaced. "I'm sorry, sir. You're right. I'm under a lot of stress and I—"

"Have nothing to apologize for," Paul interjected.

"I can finish my own sentences, Paul Sinclair."

Paul looked at Jen, letting his surprise at her anger show, then nodded in agreement.
It's not like she doesn't have every right to be tense
. "Yes, you can."

Jen shook her head, her own gaze dropping. "I'm sorry, Paul. I . . . just started another sentence like that. But this is so hard. Commander Sinclair and, uh, Commander Sinclair, I've looked forward to this meeting, but like everything else in my life lately it hasn't gone as I expected. I'm very grateful for Paul's support. Oh, hell, I'm very grateful for Paul. No matter what happens."

Mrs. Sinclair eyed Jen. "What do you expect to happen?"

"Expect? I don't know what to expect, anymore. They've charged me with killing my shipmates! I couldn't ever do that, but the Navy's trying to prove I did do it. Now, I don't know what else to expect. Nothing makes sense."

"Surely you have witnesses—"

"My witnesses are
dead
, ma'am."

Mrs. Sinclair paused. "Paul says you've a great reputation."

Jen's smile seemed half-born of pain. "Oh, yes. A great reputation. That doesn't seem to have helped much."

Paul shook his head. "Jen's still in confinement because the government's arguing that she could sabotage Franklin like they say she did the
Maury
."

Paul's mother leaned close, looking directly into Jen's eyes. "But you're innocent."

Jen locked eyes with Paul's mother. "Yes, ma'am. I couldn't do what I've been charged with."

They held each other's gazes for a moment, then Paul's mother reached out and squeezed Jen's hand. "Yes. But I'm Julia, not 'ma'am.'"

A knock on the door and a master-at-arms appeared. "I'm afraid that's all the time you're permitted."

He wasn't supposed to touch her, but Paul leaned as close to Jen as he could without doing so. "I'm here. Always."

"Thanks," she whispered back. "God, why now?"

But the master-at-arms was coming forward, frowning, and Paul had to pull back without answering. Jen gave the petty officer a stern look, came to attention, pivoted on her heel, and marched out the door back toward her cell.

Paul and his parents walked back toward the temporary lodging area. His mother smiled brightly in a deliberately overdone display of cheeriness. "How about dinner?"

"Thanks, Mom, but I'm not all that hungry."

"You need something to eat."

"Mom—"

"That's an order, Lieutenant." She grinned. "I love being able to say that to you."

Paul led them to one of the private restaurants, having no desire to take his parents to Fogarty's where he had so many memories of him and Jen together. He picked at the food his mother insisted he order, trying to answer questions with replies longer than a word or two, while everyone avoided talking about Jen.

His mother finally sighed and leaned back in her seat. "Well, she seems like a fine enough person. Under the circumstances."

"You didn't exactly meet her at her best." Paul thought again of Jen, putting up a brave front even while she wore a uniform stripped of insignia and decoration.
Would I have been able to carry myself as well she did under those circumstances? I bet she's imagined meeting my parents a thousand times, and the difference between those dreams and the reality must've been heartbreaking. But she didn't show it.

His mother gazed at Paul intently, as if reading his thoughts. "Your Jen is a very strong woman, isn't she?"

"Yes. That's just one of the things I love about her."

"And you're absolutely certain these charges are false?"

"Yes!"

Paul's father frowned. "They must have had good reasons for charging her. Those sort of charges aren't brought lightly."

His mother shook her head. "We don't know what motivated the charges."

"The Navy wouldn't—"

"Don't lecture me about the Navy, George! I spent just as many years in it as you did. As an institution, it's far from perfect. It can do some terrible things. And I know that's true even though I know there's a lot of good people in the Navy. I'm married to one and the mother of another."

"And the future mother-in-law of a third," Paul muttered. He looked up at the sudden silence. "I guess I said that out-loud."

His mother leaned forward with an exaggerated questioning expression. "You're engaged?"

"Not yet."

"I'm glad you haven't forgotten to mention that. Have you already asked her?"

"Yes."

"Then I assume she hasn't given you an answer?"

Paul felt as if he were being cross-examined by Commander Carr. "No. She wanted more time for us to get to know each other."

"That's nice. Otherwise you'd probably have gotten married and not brought it up until now."

"Mom—"

"I wanted to let you know we were coming. But not your father. Let's surprise Paul, he said."

Paul's father shrugged. "How was I supposed to know his girl would be in the brig? We weren't even sure what her last name was."

"That's true." His mother focused back on Paul. "Here you are getting ready to marry the girl and we hardly know a thing about her."

"I told you lots of things about Jen."

"Oh, yes. Let's see. She's a great officer. She's really nice looking. And she's a great officer."

"I've told you more than that. Haven't I?"

"Not really. You never mentioned that she's tough enough to put up a good front for us even though she's going through personal hell at the moment."

Paul let his sense of helplessness show. "She didn't do it. If I know anything at all, I know Jen couldn't have done what they're accusing her of."

"That's what the court-martial will decide, won't it?" his father remarked.

"I don't care what the court-martial decides! I already know!"

"Surely if she's as innocent as you say, she doesn't have to fear conviction."

Paul sighed and shook his head. "I wish I could be sure of that. But all the witnesses to what really happened on the
Maury
are dead. All the records and logs that might've explained the accident were destroyed. It may come down to Jen's word that she did nothing against the fact that something apparently inexplicable happened."

"Something she survived." Paul's father raised one palm to forestall another outburst from Paul. "I know. But that looks damming, right?" He glanced at Paul's mother. "Maybe David can help."

Paul frowned.
David. My big brother the hot-shot civilian lawyer. Who somehow always manages to shove that fact in my face. But I shouldn't let my feelings about his attitude rule out David's helping Jen. Can he really help, though
? "Does David know military law?"

His mother frowned in turn. "Not as far as I know. That could be a problem, couldn't it?"

"It could be. There's different rules, different procedures. Jen has a right to have David as her attorney if she wants him, but . . ."

"But it might not be all that smart." Paul's mother glanced at his father. "What do you think, Frank?"

"Oh, my opinion matters? Then, for what it's worth, I think Paul brought up a good point. Even though I suggested David, he'd be on unfamiliar ground. Plus he's one hundred percent civilian. You remember how you and I would've thought about a civilian lawyer back when we were on active duty."

"Yes, indeed. What about Jen's father? You told us he's a captain?"

"That's right. Commanding officer of the
Mahan
."

"The
Mahan
? She's not in port."

"No. Deep patrol. She won't be back for months."

"That's not good. What about her mother?"

"Dead. Years ago." Paul inhaled deeply. "I'm all she's got."

"Not quite. No son of mine is going to stand alone in a matter like this. Frank?"

His father sighed. "What if she's convicted, Paul? You seem to think that's a real possibility. Those charges will put her in confinement for a very long time."

"I can wait."

"So you say now. Look, I know how it feels to be in love. You can't imagine your love object has any flaws—"

Mrs. Sinclair smiled briefly. "I broke that illusion of your father's pretty quick."

"You certainly did. And I'm not saying your girl did what she's accused of doing. But, she could be convicted. Think of ten years down the line, her in Fort Leavenworth and you outside, waiting for another thirty or forty years to pass, if not more."

"You don't think I should stand by her."

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying maybe you do your best, but she's convicted and the appeals are rejected . . ."

Paul snorted a brief laugh, looking away for a moment. "Dad, I'm not under the slightest illusion that Jen is perfect. She's pushy, temperamental, stubborn, willful and rough-edged. She's also the best thing by far that's ever happened to me."

His father smiled for a moment. "Sounds a lot like your mother."

His mother gave his father a sharp look. "I beg your pardon?"

Paul couldn't help smiling briefly himself at the byplay. "After the
Maury
's engineering spaces blew to hell I had to face what seemed to be the certainty that she'd died. I couldn't imagine what I'd do, how I'd ever find someone else who could fill the hole Jen'd left in me. Then I found out she'd survived. I know how it'd feel to lose her, because I thought I had. Do you think I'd ever let her go, now?"

"Not if you were worth a damn," his father replied.

"Yes," his mother agreed. "There may not be much we can do to help, but what we can do, we will."

* * *

Lieutenant Bashir offered Paul his data pad. "Here's the convening order for the court-martial. Do you know any of the members of the court?"

Paul took the device and read through it slowly. A general court-martial had been convened, the most serious. It made him wince internally even though he'd known Jen would be charged with offenses too serious for either of the less severe forms of court-martial, special or summary. Unlike the special or summary courts-martial, which had limitations on the punishments they could order, a general court-martial could assign any legal punishment, no matter how severe. It was reserved for only the worst offenses.

He read the list of personnel identified in the convening order.
Military Judge. Captain David V. McMasters. I'll have to ask Bashir about McMasters. President of the court-martial is Captain William Carney. Carney? That doesn't ring any bells. No, wait. Isakov mentioned that name. He was the commanding officer of the
Isherwood
at one point. I wish I knew more than that, but I'm really leery of asking Val Isakov anything. Then there's Commander Francesca Bolivar. Commander of the Fleet Intelligence Support Activity on Franklin. Doesn't look like she's ever served on ships. Lieutenant Commander Gavin Cloud. Just came up from Earth duty, awaiting assignment. It says he's open space warfare officer qualified, so he must have some experience, but it must predate my own arrival up here. He's been on earth since before I got to the
Michaelson.

Lieutenant Daniela Kalin. Off the
Dahlgren
. And Lieutenant Karl Ishiki. Fleet staff. I don't know any of these people
.

Paul repeated his last thought out loud. Bashir nodded. "Not too surprising. You and Lieutenant Shen moved in the same crowd, right? They couldn't choose any members for the court who knew her well, so it follows you wouldn't know them. And they had to rule out people who'd served with Shen's father on the
Mahan
or elsewhere, too. But it was worth a try to see if you could tell me anything about any of them."

Paul indicated a couple of names. "Carney, Cloud and Kalin are all Open Space Warfare Officers."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Well . . ." Paul hesitated before replying. "It's a tough community. OSWOs can be really supportive, or they can eat you alive. You never know."

"I'll say that's likely to be bad, then."

"What about the judge? What's McMasters like?"

Bashir looked noncommittal. "He runs a tight court-room. No nonsense. No games. He doesn't tend to favor either the prosecution or the defense. He leaves that part of things to the trial counsel and the defense counsel."

"That sounds good."

"Oh, yeah. It can be a lot worse. Now . . ." Bashir held up his data unit again. "Here's the list of evidence I've been provided by the prosecution."

Paul paged through the lists of documents. "This is almost all engineering stuff."

"Yeah." Bashir squinted at his display. "And I'm a lawyer. I don't know a blasted thing about any of it."

"Jen can explain it."

"Yeah." Bashir settled back, rubbing his eyes. "But that's part of the problem. Lieutenant Shen really knows this stuff."

"Why's that a problem?"

"I can only guess at the prosecution strategy, but based on this stuff and the very limited evidence available, I'd say they're going to argue that this couldn't have been an accident. If they rule out an accident, that points it right at Lieutenant Shen."