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MOM SAT next to me in the Commissioner’s Hearing Chamber. She made a clicking sound with her tongue and exhaled through her nose. The front seating area for the offenders, the “accused,” grew fuller and stuffier by the minute. As she’d said, I wasn’t the only charged traveler waiting for the commissioner to arrive.
Two rows in front of me sat another teen, a male, with sandy blond hair and dark blue eyes. I didn’t notice him at first. My eyes had been darting back and forth between the crowd of spectators occupying the mezzanine level behind us, and the door where the Commissioner would walk through to begin the hearings. But then a glint of ruby caught my eye, a red sparkle coming from the blond’s earring.
There was something about the calm, cool way he scanned the room with his eyes: slowly, as if he were absorbing every detail. He winked when he caught me staring at him, and then he resumed with his scanning. He didn’t look nervous at all. I wondered what his infraction was.
I sat there gawking until the door to the raised platform behind the Commissioner’s desk flew open, accompanied by the crackle of a speaker.
“All rise for the Honorable Commissioner Reese, presiding. When your name is called, please approach the podium at the end of the hallway before His Honor. Bring with you whatever evidence is in your possession, including all writings, unofficial travel equipment—small objects only, please—and any witnesses in attendance.”
After a shuffle of feet, everyone stood at attention. I met Mom’s eyes and peeked back over my shoulder toward the mezzanine. I still didn’t see Valcas up there with all the “innocent” people. Good. His presence would only make this worse.
We remained standing until Commissioner Reese sat down on his cushioned desk chair. The light of an overhead lamp reflected off his round forehead, made shiny by either sweat or oil—I really couldn’t tell. Wisps of gray hair were combed straight to the side, forming a T with the sharp line of his narrow nose that abruptly ended in a black moustache. The Commissioner looked over his glasses at us as he spoke into a small microphone.
“At ease,” he said. “Each of you knows why you have been called here today. Your hearings are meant for us to discern why you have done what you’ve done. After listening to your explanation and considering your evidence, I will decide how you will pay for your infraction.”
I gave Mom a sideward glance. “He’s presuming that we’re all guilty?”
“This isn’t the United States,” she whispered. “The TSTA is an Inter-world agency. Commissioner Reece knows that you’re guilty.” She sighed. “No one has ever stood before a TSTA commissioner by mistake.”
Commissioner Reese sat back in his chair. He looked troubled, as if the task of punishing people for their wrongdoings was burdensome, as if they were wasting their time in his Hearing Chamber, or worse yet, wasting his time.
The speaker crackled again. “Miss Ivory...”
No one answered.
I looked around the room. No one in the front seating area rose from a single chair. Where was Miss Ivory?
“Miss Ivory...”
The double doors in the back of the room creaked as they opened. A well-bronzed woman with short, tousled locks of pure white hair rolled her eyes as she strutted down the hallway.
“It’s Ivory. Just Ivory,” she said. “My world has no use for last names. I know why I’m here. I’m here. Let’s do this.”
Ivory appeared strong, lithe and fearless, from her stubborn jawline to her lean muscled limbs that swelled out of a black tank top and through camouflage black and green cargo pants. Despite her frosty white hair, her coppery skin was radiant and smooth. She couldn’t have been any older than someone in her mid-twenties.
I got a better look at her anger-lined face as she approached the podium and crossed her arms. White lashes framed somber hematite eyes. She looked ready to devour the Commissioner whole.
“As you know,” she said, “I am what the glorious TSTA calls a Chauffeur.” She bowed more to the crowd than to Commissioner Reese, who sat there, rigid. His dark eyebrows squeezed hard enough together to form a deep crease between his forehead and the bridge of his nose.
“What does she mean by Chauffeur?” I asked Mom.
“She’s a certified travel craft operator, a contractor, one of the TSTA’s very best.”
“Oh.”
Ivory tapped her fingernails across the podium in front of her, waiting for the Commissioner to say something. They were locked in a staring contest. I held my breath until the Commissioner looked away first.
Evidently irritated that he’d lost the staring match, he began again, “Miss Ivory—”
“Ivory.”
He sighed. “Ivory. Thank you for the introduction. I’ve reviewed the infraction against you and I must say that I’m alarmed. Your record up until now has been perfect, remarkably spotless.”
Ivory narrowed her eyes. “I am not proud to have this mark on my record. I broke your rule. I have no evidence. I changed the past, and now I’m here for my punishment.” She shrugged. “I’m sure everyone else here has better things to do.”
Commissioner Reese nodded gravely. “But why did you do it?”
Ivory stood there tight-lipped, silent.
“Do you have any words in your defense?”
She lifted her chin. “I do not.”
“Very well, then. Your punishment will be a fine of three million dollars.”
Muffled gasps from the mezzanine level reached down to the main floor. I squeezed the armrests of my chair. That was a lot of money.
Unblinkingly, Ivory growled through gritted teeth. “I can’t pay your fine.”
“Then you must serve by seeking the lost. You will receive your assignment before the end of the day. Service begins tomorrow morning.”
Ivory nodded and spun around on her heels.
“Oh, and Ivory,” the Commissioner said. “Whomever it is that you’re protecting is not off the hook. Contributory infractions will be penalized. It is only a matter of time before the report passes my desk.”
Ivory squeezed her hands into fists and walked away, slamming the door to the Hearing Chamber.