corner of the observation room, trying to blend into the shadows and stay out of the way of the Badges watching through a two-way mirror as their colleague questioned a farmer. The two sat on either side of a table with the farmer’s advocate sitting near her client, who was sweating under the glare of his interrogator. The advocate reminded the Badges that the farmer held rights to privacy and from self-incrimination.
“Due process has been suspended during the Captain’s state of emergency,” the Badge across the table said, repeating a phrase he used several times already.
Bertie knew the Badge was technically correct, but of the seven people in the room, he was the only one who knew the truth, and it came directly from the Captain.
+++
They were sipping coffee in the Captain’s office. Bertie noted the walls were bare aside from the panels showing the ship’s status and the large wooden steering wheel. There was no evidence that Joshua Devereaux (or his predecessors) ever used the office.
“Bertie, the Engineer wants someone from my team to act as observer when her Badges question the farmers and organizers of the mutiny, and you are the perfect volunteer,” Charles said.
“Sir,” he said with a smirk, “we may not be in the Navy, but they were wise when they said, ‘Never Again Volunteer Yourself.’”
“N-A-V-Y,” Charles spelled out. He smiled. “Cute. Anyway, I accept you as a volunteer. Thank you for your service to Salvation.“ He laughed when Bertie flipped him off, then turned serious. “The Chief Badge will send you the schedule of interrogations. Try to tear yourself from your girlfriend in the Back and make as many as you can.”
Bertie hid his surprise. He thought he hid his relationship with Madam Chang from curious eyes, but realized he underestimated the “new” Charles. He was clearly more aware of his surroundings since getting sober. “They’re starting soon?”
“Very soon. There are three reasons I’m sending you—“
“I thought I was a volunteer.”
Charles mulled for a second. “I ordered you to volunteer. If I may continue, Mr. Mason?”
“You may, Captain Devereaux,” Bertie said magnanimously.
“Thank you. Your presence there will send messages, including that I am interested in the proceedings and outcome. I would be at any rate, but since these maniacs murdered my father and brother, I don’t want anyone to misunderstand that I’m keeping these proceedings at arm’s length. People know who you are and who you represent. Your presence will send a clear signal.”
“Understood.”
“The second reason I have already shared with the Engineer. I want the interrogations to be flawless and professional. Everything will be recorded. No one will feel threatened or forced into confessions. Everybody’s rights will be protected.”
“Okay, but…”
“Say it.”
“You haven’t ended your father’s state of emergency. Due process is suspended. You can blow those assholes out the nearest airlock, and no one will push back.”
Bertie watched a troubled look come over the Captain’s face.
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it,” Charles said. “God knows there’s been a dozen captains before me who would do it.” The Captain sighed. “But someone on this ship must be the better person. It must start somewhere. If I were to start spacing suspects without giving them time to defend themselves, where would it end? Eventually, I will kill an innocent person, someone who should have been given the chance to go home to their family at the end of the day, safe and sound.
“That’s your second mission, Bertie. Protect the innocent. The guilty should be punished, no doubt about that, but until the tribunal hands down its decisions, I want you to protect everyone’s rights and protect the innocent from us.”
Bertie couldn’t help but be impressed, and he doubted Charles’ father ever thought this deeply. “Fine. The third reason?”
Charles set his cup on his desk hard. “Somebody stood in front of the mutineers and talked them into the mutiny. He pushed them over the edge for his own reasons. No one knows who he is. Find him.”
Bertie almost physically recoiled at the hate in his captain’s eyes.
+++
Sitting in the interrogation center, Bertie admitted he was impressed with the change in Charles, not that his drying out was any kind of fun. Doc Max ordered Bertie to tie down Charles in soft restraints at one point because his spasms were so intense that he might injure himself.
When the Captain finally came up for air, he finally said the words that Bertie and Doc Max were waiting for—“Never again.”
Bertie knew from his own family history that alcoholics often regressed to their bad habits, but he was near certain that Charles would be fine. The man had a ship to lead, and the future of his race to protect, with almost no time to spare for himself, including the time to decorate his own office.
Not even time for a girlfriend. Too bad. He could use the support and distraction.
The thought led to musings of recent revelations in his relationship with Louisa Chang. They started as bed buddies without any sort of long-term commitment, something Bertie was used to. There were plenty of women across the ship who were willing to engage in consensual eroticism without promises, and at first, he thought Louisa was another in a long line.
He was recently sitting at the bar in the Bilgewater Café and was wondering if his thing with Louisa constituted more than two ships passing in the night. The sex was excellent, of course, but he found they shared the same cynical view of humanity, that people always acted in their own best interests before anything else, including the good of the ship. That wasn’t always true—the Captain was an exception to the rule, to Bertie’s mind—but humans were easier to figure out once you understood that concept.
As he nursed his drink, Bertie considered if he and Louisa should take the next logical step in their relationship and sign a monogamy contract. He never actively practiced monogamy himself, or signed any kind of relationship contract before, but he found himself smiling whenever he thought of Louisa. The way she dressed and carried herself, the way she spoke to her employees, and the way she wiggled in bed.
Yeah, maybe it’s time for me to grow up and be somebody’s partner.
A movement in the mirror behind the bar caught his attention and changed his life.
That is not Hosea Bello arguing with Louisa!
Hosea Bello was probably the most famous footballer in the Ring, not to mention a heartthrob to thousands across the ship. Teenagers of all kinds and flavors flocked to his every game, and more than a few older fans too. Like many on the ship, Bertie amassed a small fortune through betting on Hosea’s matches. That the footballer was in Madam Chang’s bar and seemed upset, possibly angry, led to possibilities in Bertie’s mind that he was not happy to think about.
What sealed the deal was when Louisa’s eyes met his in the mirror at that moment. It was only for a second, but it was long enough for him to see her narrow her eyes suspiciously at him before she snagged Hosea’s sleeve to drag him to her office, away from public view.
What in the hell was that all about?
Afterward, like it or not—and Bertie certainly did not like it—he decided to look into Louisa’s affairs when he had a spare minute. What he learned both amazed and worried him.
Football was the most popular sport on the ship, and the leagues organized teams with owners and general managers responsible for scheduling and drafting players. In a perfect world, all would operate aboveboard without any hint of corruption, but Bertie found the owners were mere puppets, and their strings were being controlled by Louisa Chang. She alone dictated the terms on all player contracts and trades, and the owners acted on those directions.
This information alone hadn’t bothered Bertie. Human vice existed for thousands of years and would exist for as long as humans survived. He didn’t even care much after he learned Madam Chang also controlled the “legal” gambling houses in Salvation through shadow owners.
Louisa is having her cake and eating it too. Good for her.
However, his attitude changed not long afterward when he heard the report that Hosea Bello had fallen down a flight of stairs and broken his neck. The body was too far gone when found to initiate cloning. Hosea Bello was dead, and he would remain dead.
Bertie was shaken and knew he would have to do something about Louisa. She’s murdering people. I don’t like it, but I don’t know what to do about it.
He shook himself out of his memories to see that the interrogation on the other side of the glass was proceeding to the next step. A second Badge entered the room with a large pad and asked the farmer to describe the unknown provocateur of the mutiny. The farmer looked to his advocate, who encouraged him to answer the second Badge’s questions.
Do what she’s telling you, buddy. You’re going home to your family like the Captain wants. Bertie had already decided the farmer in the interrogation room was innocent, their only mistake having been in attending three of the meetings before stopping long before any kind of mutiny was discussed.
He could see the surface of the Badge’s pad, and the outline of the mystery instigator echoed the previous sketches—young with full hair and an angular face with ears sticking out on the sides. The farmer couldn’t remember their eye color or other details, but Bertie saw enough on the pad to feel that he knew the person somewhere. He couldn’t remember where.
He kicked himself three days later when he realized the mystery person looked like a male version of Louisa Chang.