CHAPTER 9
M’Kenna Copper concentrated on the small tablet that was all the technology she or her family was allowed in their dim prison suite. Who knew they had family cells on Partwe?
She never thought in a million years she would have been arrested for any reason, let alone smuggling. They had always had good relationships with the merchants in the Autocracy. She and Rafe were law-abiding to a fault. They would never, never, never have risked their children’s lives, let alone their own, on contraband.
Yet, a prison suite was their current home, and had been since their arrest. Two rooms were all they had. Temperature and lighting were out of their control. To her it always felt a little too warm and dry. The glare of the lights from the corridor drew attention to the fact that the lighting in the cells was dimmer than she liked. She felt as though she was hiding in a cupboard away from a threat. That was true enough.
The bunks the Uctu constabulary provided were comfortable enough. Their padding was made so it couldn’t be pried away from the platform. It was raised at one end to make a pillow. The blanket fabric was too air-permeable to allow one to suffocate oneself, and too stiff to use as a noose. The walls were metal with a thick resinous coating on them that not only dampened the sounds from the corridor, but prevented the occupants from bashing their skulls in hopes of escape—or death. M’Kenna could see why suicide might be an alternative some might choose instead of official execution. She had looked up the methods the Uctu used. One glance was enough to make sure she code-locked the sites so the kids couldn’t open them.
The children slept in one room, she and Rafe in the other. Sanitary facilities were behind an unmovable privacy barrier that prevented others from seeing what was going on behind it, although anyone could hear. They wore bright green prison coveralls day and night. They were taken from their cell for showers once every couple of days, at the same time their coveralls were replaced with clean ones, although some leeway was possible for small children not yet toilet trained. Being able to leave the confines of the cage-fronted cell with Dorna a few times a day helped M’Kenna cope, but it wasn’t enough. There was no privacy at all.
Small as the living quarters in their ship were in comparison to a space station or the surface of a planet, at least they were able to stake out parts of that space for themselves, no-go areas that allowed them a morsel of alone-time. That was what kept M’Kenna in particular from committing mariticide or filicide. It was the little things, like the kids bumping into them or each other while playing, or her husband reaching out to touch her when she was thinking. Or M’Kenna stretching out her legs and kicking Rafe by accident. All of them were driving each other crazy. She needed time alone to work back through her memory of where the disaster might have happened. She had a gift for concentration, but it worked only in peace and quiet. There was little of either in the ward. She had to think. She had to!
The truth was, she was baffled. How in the explosive core of Alpha Centauri Five had that war skimmer gotten into their ship? It was impossible! The family had never been away from the ship long enough for anyone to unbolt all those hull plates, penetrate the insulation and protective bladders around that usually stinky tank, drain it, stick the flyer inside, refasten all of the layers around it and rebolt the hull, all without making a sound or setting off any of their alarms. It certainly couldn’t have been done with them aboard. Anywhere they had docked ought to have detected interference on that scale.
“It could’ve been when we went to the circus on Vijay 9,” Rafe said, breaking into her reverie. “We were gone all afternoon and half the evening.”
“You are not helping,” M’Kenna snapped. “In fact, you are unhelping.” Her fierce look told him to back off. He did. So did all the kids. They knew when they heard ‘Mommy’s thinking voice,’ there was no appeal. They retreated into their chamber and played together quietly. For a while.
“Let me out of here or I will tear you apart!” bellowed Nuro. He and the rest of the Wichu crew from Sword Snacks IV were just up the corridor. So were about half the ships that had left Way Station 46 with the Entertainer. They were all in the same boat, so to speak. A death ship.
At least they had been transferred planetside. The air was fresher on Partwe 3, although the chlorine-heavy atmosphere friendly to Uctus was getting to all the outworlders. M’Kenna had complained repeatedly until the warden had increased filtration in the cells. The trouble was, every time an Uctu warder or guard opened a door to the outside, they got another lungful of chlorine. It wasn’t enough to kill anyone, but it made the prison smell like a swimming pool. Lerin had developed a worrisome sounding cough from it.
M’Kenna’s inner noises were getting the better of her, too. Very few offenses in any nation called for the death penalty. Their court-appointed attorney, a Wichu named Allisjonil Derinket, assured them that most of the laws recited over the in-system relay were overturned on appeal. The trouble was that the crime of which she and the others stood accused was of carrying weapons of war over the borders without government license or permission. They had been caught red-handed. They had no way to prove their innocence. How long before the courts decided if they deserved an appeal? They were waiting to hear that and whether the children could be detached from the responsibility for the crime, leaving only their parents under indictment. M’Kenna would let herself be tortured to death slowly and agonizingly before a live audience if it would save her babies.
The thought of never seeing her children again made her sob out loud. She stifled the noise in the horrid green fabric of her sleeve, but Dorna, always sensitive to M’Kenna’s moods, came toddling out of the other room and threw herself into her mother’s arms. M’Kenna cuddled the toddler, kissing her wealth of dark curls over and over again. Something had to be done to get the Coppers out of there. Somebody knew what had happened. She needed evidence. She needed a witness. Somebody had seen something that wasn’t right. A file somewhere had the data that proved that skimmer had gone into her ship when she wasn’t looking.
Rafe kept the maintenance records. They showed nothing out of the ordinary. He swore up and down that every detail was correct. M’Kenna trusted him. He was the best husband and partner she could have imagined, not to mention efficient, hard-working, shrewd and patient. When he talked her out of her job as a saleswoman for modular domiciles fifteen years before, it had sounded so outrageous to her to spend her life as an interstellar merchant, but his family had done it for centuries, millennia, even. She had been right to trust in him, to tie her life to his among the stars. At his fingertips, he had the experience to know when a ship part was starting to go. Every little wobble in the ship meant something to him, even if they all sounded alike to M’Kenna. If Rafe said there was nothing out of place on his scopes or database, he meant it. That brought her back to an exterior threat. Somebody had targeted her and some of the others.
M’Kenna kept going over the reports over and over again. When could that flitter have been placed in the waste tank? She still found it impossible. But it must have happened at some point, because there were other unexplained problems with the ship. Lerin had complained about the taste of the water. It turned out that their filtration system had gone almost completely on the fritz. If they had not been close to Nacer, they all might have died in transit of salmonella poisoning or another waterborne illness from lack of sanitation. They were all feeling pretty sick, though. It wasn’t only the strain of their situation, although that was bad enough. She could not stop smelling the chlorine in the atmosphere. It was almost as if they had not had their habilitation therapy, but all of them had had it years ago. Maybe the sanitation problem had undone all the injections and things, knocked out their enhanced immune systems.
She ran the files up and back on the tablet again and again. When could someone have gotten close enough to open their tank without them detecting it? She went through Rafe’s pristine logs again.
Before arriving at Way Station 46, the Entertainer had called in to see a few of their best customers and three suppliers, all in systems outside the Core Worlds on the way to the frontier. Normally M’Kenna would have said she could trust those people as far as she could throw them—but she could still trust them. She would also find it pretty outrageous that any of those vendors had an interest in military vehicles. Over the years she and Rafe had shed connections with people who cheated them one way or another, putting warnings on the Infogrid to protect fellow merchants, as they all did. Rising tides lifted all boats, and a hole in the tub made them all sink.
So where was the weak link? It seemed crazy to suspect any of their long-time customers or suppliers, but it was just as outrageous to suspect an ordinary space merchant family. Still, she was in jail and they weren’t. She needed to find out who was to blame.
She added names and dates of last contact to the file of enquiries that needed to be made, to hand over to their attorney. M’Kenna was desperate to ask those contacts herself, to ask what she hoped were the right questions, and ask to see security videos of the docking facilities on the stations that circled those worlds. But she couldn’t. She was stuck on Partwe 3. For maybe the rest of her life.
But what about the other merchants? That gave her something new to chew on. Those ships were not likely to have been anywhere together until they were all stuck on Way Station 46. Had they all stopped at one particular station during the last few months? She would have to see if she could compare the Entertainer’s logs with Space Snacks or the others. Or if the attorney could do so. It was such a pain in the afterthrusters not to be able to go and ask questions herself!
A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Lerin stood a couple of paces away, bobbing up and down impatiently. She forced herself to smile at him.
“What is it, baby?” she asked.
“Mama, I want to play Dozer Ships,” he begged. “Please? I’m booooored!”
M’Kenna looked at the time in the corner of the tablet screen.
“Not now, honey. Hey! It’s time for lessons.”
He wrinkled his nose.
“Lessons! Why do we need lessons if we’re all going to die?”
M’Kenna grabbed him and crushed him to her, bruising his nine-year-old dignity. He fought loose, but not before she saw the fear in his eyes.
“Nobody is going to die, sweetheart,” she said firmly. “So you still need spatial geometry and calculus, so you can become a pilot like your daddy and your auntie Siff.” She opened the lesson plan folder and locked all the others, especially the game folder. Long time since she studied the basics of calculus and navigation. Math was ideal for learning how to think logically. “Here. You get started. There’s two screens of homework problems. When you’re done with them, I’ll quiz you. Then you can quiz me.”
He went along with her effort to keep the mood light.
“Bet I get more right than you!”
“We’ll see about that.” But she surrendered the tablet. Lerin grabbed it and raced into the children’s room.
Rafe sat on the bench that doubled as his bunk with his long legs outstretched and ankles crossed. His arms were folded tight against his chest.
“Are you awake?” she whispered.
He opened his eyes.
“Yes. Daydreaming of being anywhere but here,” he said. “Are you all right?”
She stopped herself just in time from snapping. He had the long-haul spacer’s gift of being able to accept long delays without reacting. Her shorter fuse marked her as a born groundling. But she was learning.
“I’m okay. I’m worried about the kids. I don’t care what happens to me, but I want them safe and out of here! I haven’t heard from your family yet if they can come and get them.”
“Dad or Aunt Libby will get back to us. They’ll probably hit the same snag when they try to cross the frontier. Better make some long-term arrangements here for the kids if . . .” Rafe didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. They talked the grim possibilities over and over after the children had gone to sleep.
The front of the cell lit up red. That was a signal to anyone near the barred wall to move away, or be burned by the glowing metal. It meant they had a visitor. The door slid open about a meter, no farther.
The bulky figure covered in thick white fur who marched into the cell was both a welcome and an intrusive presence. Allisjonil Derinket had arrived. Like most Wichus, he had a no-nonsense personality. He had no time or patience for pleading, begging, complaints or explosions. He was capable of exploding pretty loudly himself. He and M’Kenna had gotten into fierce arguments over the last few weeks that needed to be broken up by Rafe. She tried to keep her temper with him, since he was their court-appointed attorney. The Uctus understood that foreign defendants would find it easier to trust a lawyer who came from the other side of the border. M’Kenna would have preferred a human, maybe even a Croctoid, to the brusque Wichu. But by the remarks on the Infogrid, he was a good and savvy advocate. The two slender Uctu guards who accompanied him checked the visitor’s badge on his chest, and stood sentry until the bars closed behind him.
He took a tablet, same model as their prison-issued gear, from the cross-body harness he wore over his furry shoulders.
“Got some news for you,” he said.
“When will the hearing be?”
“I don’t know yet,” Allisjonil said, turning an annoyed glance to her. “I obtained a stay until we can investigate all your connections. You have that ready?”
M’Kenna sprang up and strode into the children’s room. All four of her kids sat on the floor around the glowing rectangle, playing a game of Pin the Part on the Ship Engine. She leaned into their midst and picked up the tablet. Her four-year-old son wailed a protest and tried to grab it back.
“Sorry, kids. I need this now.”
“We understand, Mama,” Nona said. She gathered the two small children to her. Lerin sat like a statue.
M’Kenna brought up the file from the locked folder and transferred it to Allisjonil’s computer. He opened it and scanned the text.
“Right. I’ll look into these.” He turned his big, round eyes to the Coppers. “Meantime, you’re getting out of here.”
Rafe grabbed her hand and squeezed it.
“Really? Yay!” M’Kenna cheered. “Allie, you’re the best!”
“They’re releasing us? They’re letting us post bail?” Rafe demanded. The children appeared in the doorway, their eyes wide at the outburst. Allisjonil waved a dismissive hand.
“Go away, kids,” he said sternly.
“But . . .” Lerin protested.
“Shut up,” Allisjonil said. “Go away. We’re still talking. If your parents wanted you to listen, they would have told you.”
One by one, the children backed into their room. Lerin was the last to go, his eyes full of reproach. The Wichu waited until he was gone, then turned back to the Coppers.
“Are you stupid? You’re not being released. Have you had a trial yet? You’re being transferred to Dilawe. No one stands trial for a capital offense on Partwe. They don’t do executions here. It raises too many questions about impartial witnesses.”
“That doesn’t help us!” M’Kenna protested. Allisjonil snorted impatiently.
“I can’t do anything about that! You’re the ones who committed the crime.”
“Some attorney!” Rafe snarled. He flung himself away from them and paced the three steps to the end of the cell.
“We did not commit a crime,” M’Kenna said, controlling herself with difficulty. “We are being framed. Set up.”
“By who?” Allisjonil asked.
“I don’t know who! When I can figure out how they did it, you can find out who. That’s your job!”
“My job is to defend you, not investigate anything. For that, you pay extra.” Allisjonil checked another file on his tablet. “You got the schedule of fees, right?”
“Yes!”
“Good. That includes how much you have to pay for me to accompany you to Dilawe. You’re splitting the fare with three other groups of defendants, so it won’t be too bad.”
The Coppers were not satisfied with that, but there was nothing more that they could do about it, either.
“What about our kids?” M’Kenna asked.
“No judgment about that yet. I’ll let you know if the appeal goes through. Meantime, they stay with you.”
“What about our ship?” Rafe asked. Allisjonil shrugged.
“It’s being transported, too. It’ll be put into secure dock until after the trial.”
“And then?”
The Wichu shrugged, making his shoulder fur flip up and settle down again. “If you win, you get it back. If not, it’ll be auctioned off to cover court costs. That’s the way they do things here.”
M’Kenna, aghast at the feelings inside her, couldn’t say a word. She sat down heavily on the berth, clutching the tablet to her chest.
“That’s all you have for us?” Rafe asked, his voice hoarse.
“That’s it. I’ll be back when you get transferred.” Allisjonil tapped the badge on his chest. The door at the end of the corridor slid open noisily, accompanied by a blast of chlorine-scented air. The two guards marched to the door. One activated a handheld control to open the bars while the other covered the Coppers with his wide-range stunner. Allisjonil squeezed out. Without a backward glance, he strode away. They heard his voice further down the hall, as he greeted yet another of his unhappy clients.
Nona appeared in the opening between the rooms. M’Kenna met her eyes. Nona had tears running down her face. She did her best not to listen when the attorney visited. Why would she? She had never heard anything good. She extended a trembling hand to her mother.
M’Kenna rose and rushed to her. Nona threw herself into her arms. M’Kenna held her close, murmuring soft words into her daughter’s hair. How could anybody think that they could wrench something so precious away from her? Her eldest child, almost a woman herself but never getting a chance to have a life of her own, not yet? Nona pressed herself close, her eyes squeezed shut. The half-moons of long black lashes gleamed with tears. M’Kenna kissed each eyelid. At a small sound from the children’s room, they broke apart. The younger three sat huge-eyed on the floor.
“You all right?” Akila asked, looking from one to the other.
“We’re fine, honey,” M’Kenna assured him, wishing it was true.
“How about a story?” Nona asked, her voice bright. She never let herself betray her fears to Dorna or Akila. Lerin had obviously heard everything. His face had gone as hard as a stone. M’Kenna went to embrace him, too, but he ducked out of reach. He retreated to the far corner and sat on the floor with his knees up. In a way, M’Kenna was glad. She wanted them to understand, even if it wasn’t just or fair. But he needed to know. She wished she could reassure him, but she couldn’t. She could not even promise him they would be able to stay together, because she didn’t know. Better if they created their own defenses. They might need to protect themselves one day, if M’Kenna and Rafe couldn’t.
She stuffed the idea down deep in her mind, underneath deliberately hopeful thoughts. They would get out of there! Soon!
“A story sounds like a great idea, darling,” M’Kenna said. She offered the tablet to Nona.
“No, mama, you pick,” Akila said.
M’Kenna hesitated, then decided they all needed some cuddle time. She squeezed in among them on the floor, then requested access to their ship’s personal files via the tablet’s one available circuit. It took a long time for the computer system to grant permission, but allowed her to open the kids’ library.
“Pick a long one,” Akila said, with one elbow on her thighs.
“Why not?” M’Kenna said. Scrolling along the book covers gave her a small measure of comfort. For a little while, she could pretend they were all together in the mess room aboard the Entertainer, sailing in between ports of call. She fought down the feelings of resentment that they weren’t out there.
Their government ought to have their back! When she could get the unit to herself again, M’Kenna planned to send another message to every single official she could think of, trying to get an investigation going, but mainly to get them out of there!
Dorna didn’t care what she read, as long as she could sit against her mother’s side with her thumb in her mouth. M’Kenna chose a chapter book from among the other three’s favorites.
“Voice or text,” the tablet inquired.
“Text,” M’Kenna said.
The age-old two-dee images began to scroll across the screen, with text in a very readable typeface at the bottom nearest her. She put the tablet out on her lap as far as she could and still see the print, so the bright pictures were visible to all of them, including Lerin.
“Once upon a time, seven bears lived in a cottage on a broad, green hill,” M’Kenna read. “A royal palace was up the hill from them, at the very top, and the river was down the hill. People of all kinds came and went between them. The bears kept ten thousand bees in ten hives behind their cottage . . . .”
Before she got to the next illustration, the one that showed the bears wearing veiled hats and carrying square boxes with steam coming out of them, she felt pressure against her other side. She glanced down. Lerin had come to cuddle up next to her. She put her other arm around him.
“Tablet, voice instruction activate.”
“Acknowledged,” the device said, pleasantly.
“Turn the page.”