I don't know how he managed it, but Melchak arranged for a change of clothing for me. I saw the outfit and wondered if he'd lost his mind though I wasn't complaining as I changed into it.
It was green, a medium shade too familiar to me. It had a patch with a flaming bird on one shoulder. The other shoulder had an official Trade Union patch instead of the triangle of the Independent Traders Guild. I had two sets of pins for the collars, gold captain's bars and gold pilot comets. The only difference between it and the shipsuits I used to own was the Pai Importing logo stitched on the front. I don't know where he got the boots, but they were an old pair of mine. There was a hidden pocket in the bottom of the left one, empty now. It used to hold my very illegal set of lockpicks. I was sure Melchak knew about them, but since he didn't say anything, neither did I.
I was combing my hair when he came by my cell. The guard opened the door. Melchak leaned in the doorway and looked me over.
"Do I pass inspection?" I asked.
"You look perfect," he answered.
I tugged my collar straight, making sure the pins were lined up.
"One last touch," Melchak said. He handed me a tiny gold pin.
It was another bird, a delicate swan. I looked up at him, waiting for an explanation.
"It goes just above the company logo," he said. "Official affiliation with Shellfinder clan. Family status."
I'd never heard of any such thing but I trusted him. I pinned the tiny swan onto my shipsuit, just above the inverted triangle of Pai Importing. I began to understand what Melchak was up to. I wasn't just anyone standing trial. I was a ship captain, a pilot, an independent trader, a Gypsy by adoption, and owner of the shipping company that had kept millions of people alive and worlds connected.
"You sure you don't want to add the medal of the Thousand to this?" I asked. It was a tie into the Patrol. I wasn't sure how I'd been awarded the honor, but I had.
"It's a thought, but no. Relations with the Empire are strained enough already. It might seem pushy and your affiliation with the Patrol was unorthodox at best."
"They're waiting," the guard informed us.
I walked out of the cell. The guard held out the force cuffs. Melchak looked like he was going to protest, then he shrugged. I let the guard fasten them around my wrists.
"Sympathy card?" I asked.
Melchak just smiled.
We walked out of the cell and through the building. A crowd waited outside, in the plaza. The mood was not much different from before. They were mostly silent, watching me. Melchak paused on the steps out of the police building. I stood next to him. He wanted me to pose, he wanted everyone to see me. I held my chin up. I wasn't going to show nerves or fear. I was going to be strong.
We walked slowly across the plaza. Guards escorted us the whole way. People in front of us moved back, opening an aisle to the courthouse steps. I walked with my head up, my steps sure. I could hear an echo of a memory, Madame Yosefie giving me instructions on deportment.
Walk as a lady, not mincing, not marching. Oh, the pain, that is not right, not at all. Chin up, not that far. Do not stride like a soldier, walk like a lady. Walk like you own everyone and everything in the room, dammit! Oh, I did not say that, no, not such a coarse word. Madame Yosefie is no dock worker. And neither are you. Be a princess, in your heart. You are a princess, a queen. No one can take that from you, no one.
I walked up the steps and into the courthouse. It didn't matter that I was wearing force cuffs. It didn't matter I was on trial for my life. I was strong. I was Dace, and no one could take that from me. They'd tried, many of them. They weren't going to win, no matter what outcome the trial had. I wouldn't let them win.
We walked into the courtroom. I stopped near the table set up for the defense. It was bare, empty of everything. Melchak set a small handcomp on it then took his seat. I stayed standing.
The balcony above us was empty. The bottom gallery was full of government officials, some in uniforms but most not. I wondered what was happening.
The lawyers for the defense arrived, four of them, all pompous looking, smug in their assumption of victory. It didn't matter. If I lost and they won, it wouldn't matter. I'd done what was necessary. Civilization would continue, one way or another.
The judge entered with more pomp and ceremony and guards standing to either side. They were Patrol, silver uniforms pressed and creased to parade ground perfection. The judge stood behind his podium looking up at the balcony.
I almost expected trumpet fanfares. The balcony slowly filled. No one made announcements as people entered but it was obvious they were delegates from every government that could get there in time. I wondered idly if the balcony was going to be big enough. I knew they had all filed charges against me. I faced the judge again.
There was a commotion at the back of the balcony. The judge glared up at it. I turned back around. The delegates shuffled to the sides, as if afraid of being contaminated by the newly arrived spectators. I almost laughed when I saw them. Roland made a show of escorting Dariana Grace down to a seat in the front. The delegation seated there made a hasty retreat back a row. Will followed Roland down. The three of them sat on the front row. Roland winked at me.
I stood straighter, smiling as I faced the judge again.
"This court is now in session," he said, banging his gavel. The rustling on the balcony died. The room was silent, waiting. The judge focused his glare on me. "Read the charges," he snapped.
One of the Patrol officers stepped forward. He held a handcomp in front of him. He didn't look at me, not even once. I stayed standing. Melchak nodded in approval.
"Dace—" He hesitated, searching for more of a name. He cleared his throat and continued. "Charges have been filed. The person named is charged with treason against the Empire; espionage; consorting with an enemy state; desertion of duty—" His voice droned on, recounting pretty much every sin I'd ever committed against the Empire. "And finally," he said, pausing dramatically. "Murder of Iniuri Shiropi, Speaker to the Council of Worlds, and assassination of Maximillius the Thirteenth, Emperor of the Altairan Empire, and his son, Maximillius the Fourteenth, heir to the throne of the Altairan Empire."
The room was deathly still as the officer stepped back into line. The judge glared at me, like a sandcat finding a rat in its food. No, a sandcat would have been more sympathetic.
"How do you plead?" he asked.
"Without a full accounting of each charge," Melchak said, rising to his feet, "it is impossible to answer honestly. I motion that the charges be tried separately, that justice may be given full due." Melchak smiled blandly. "I also request that a complete and detailed list of all charges be made available to me. I assume the prosecution has already received one."
"If you are trying to buy yourself more time, it isn't going to work," the judge said, leveling a finger at Melchak.
"Are you questioning my qualifications and my expertise?" Melchak asked.
"Your standing as a lawyer is not in question."
"Then you accept that I am fully qualified to stand as defense counsel under the laws of the Empire?"
The judge shot a glance at Roland in the balcony. We were a long way from Imperial soil. Under the agreements that Melchak had told me about, for the duration of this trial, the courtroom was considered Imperial territory. It was better than having me disappear on my way to Linas-Drias to stand trial. Melchak put my chances of getting a fair trial there somewhere south of zero. Tebros was a compromise.
"You are." The judge looked as if he'd bitten something sour.
"Then I move that the charges be tried individually."
"We all know she's guilty," the judge snapped.
"My client is entitled to due process of law," Melchak said firmly. He wasn't going to budge.
"Give him a full listing," the judge said to the guard, conceding the point. "Which charge do you want to answer first?"
Melchak smiled. "There are really only three that anyone cares about. Let's start with those. I believe they were murder of the Speaker and assassination of the Emperor and his son."
I felt the tension in the room ratchet up. Everyone but Melchak seemed to be holding their collective breath.
There was another disturbance on the balcony. The judge glanced up and paled. Everyone turned to look. The Patrol snapped to attention.
The other half of the front row was hastily cleared. Will and Roland stayed where they were, stubbornly refusing to move. Dariana sat between them, a slight pinching of her forehead the only sign of her nervousness.
Patrol officers in blue and gold livery marched down the steps of the balcony. "Her Imperial Highness," one of them bellowed.
Seya Maharta came first, wearing a full uniform of the High Command. She walked slowly down the steps. Everyone looked behind her, waiting for the Empress.
She swept into the room, regal in a silvery dress. Her hair was elaborately braided around her head, pale blond strands woven with sparkling sprays of diamonds. Her blue eyes were like ice, pale and cold. She walked delicately down the steps then paused, looking down at me. Her face was blank, no emotion showed whatsoever.
I looked her full in the face and smiled. There was no humor in my smile. It was acceptance of the challenge she'd flung at me a long time ago in a hot courtyard under the sun of Linas-Drias.
She turned away, seating herself. Seya sat next to her. The others resumed their seats. I felt just a shiver of unease. Sonja Medallis should have shown some recognition of me. There should have been something in her eyes other than cold disinterest.
"How does your client plead to the charges?" the judge said, dragging attention back to the front of the room. "Three counts of assassination."
Melchak was about to protest something. I spoke before he could. I knew exactly what I was supposed to do.
"I didn't do it," I said. I pointed up at the Empress Sonja. "She did."
The room erupted in chaos.