Rule of Evidence

Chapter Eleven

The next two witnesses had less drama but posed less support for Jen.

The fleet surgeon from the military hospital on Franklin testified to the injuries suffered by the sailors Jen had been accused of maiming. The slide show on the display screen portrayed each injury, some the results of fragments striking bodies, some from blunter, massive objects hurled by the explosions and hitting soft humans in their path, one the result of a sailor whose hand stayed on a hatch rim too long when the Maury 's emergency mechanisms started sealing hatches. Bashir objected, futilely, to the parade of suffering.

Autopsy results and official findings were entered into the court record, establishing that as a result of the explosions sixty-one officers and enlisted personnel of the USS Maury had been declared dead in sufficient form and detail to satisfy all legal, medical and bureaucratic requirements. The names had to be read into the record at this point. Paul listened, trying to numb his emotions. Strange. I've heard a lot of lists of names read. Class rosters and unit members and just going through a phone directory. But listening to this list, knowing they all died on the Maury like that, is so painful. When he looked at Jen, she was clenching her hands together as tightly as she could and staring down blankly at the surface of the defense table.

Then came a supply corps officer, who provided mind-numbing detail on the property losses suffered by both the U.S. government and by individual sailors as a result of the explosions on the Maury. Paul thought a convention of accountants would've been thrilled by the presentation, but an almost audible sigh of relief went through the courtroom when that witness had finished testifying.

Lieutenant Bashir rubbed his eyes wearily and leaned toward Jen. "There should only be one more," Paul heard him tell her.

"The United States calls as its next witness Lieutenant Edwin Taber, United States Navy."

Lieutenant Taber walked briskly to the witness stand. He didn't look toward Jen even though Paul knew Taber was part of the Maury 's wardroom. Commander Carr stood a bit further back from Taber than she had even from Captain Halis, but in the case it didn't seem to be a matter of deference. "Lieutenant Taber, what is your current assignment?"

Taber kept his gaze locked on Carr as he answered. "I'm the Weapons Officer on the USS Maury."

"Do you know Lieutenant Junior Grade Shen?"

Taber still didn't look her way as he nodded. "Yes. We've served together for several months."

Commander Carr paused before speaking again, though Paul couldn't tell why. "What can you tell us of your personal observations regarding Lieutenant Junior Grade Shen's relations with her fellow officers?"

Taber's lips twitched in a spasmodic smile. "She was very friendly with Lieutenant Schmidt."

Paul saw Jen twitch involuntarily, then her eyes narrow as she stared at Taber.

"Lieutenant Schmidt?" Carr asked.

"Yes. Helen Schmidt. The, uh, former main propulsion assistant on the Maury."

"Lieutenant Schmidt died in the destruction of the engineering spaces?"

"Yes. Yes, ma'am."

"What do you mean by 'very friendly?'"

Taber's hands, held together in his lap, could be seen clenching and unclenching restlessly. "Uh, well, for example, one time I entered a compartment… I mean, I made to enter a compartment, and Lieutenant Schmidt and Lieutenant Shen told me to wait, and when I finally opened the hatch Lieutenant Shen was just finishing putting on her uniform and they both seemed to be, uh, breathing heavily."

Paul felt his face warming and knew he was flushing with anger. He could spot a similar reaction on Jen's face.

Commander Carr paused again. "You interpreted that as a sign of an intimate physical encounter between Lieutenant Schmidt and Lieutenant Junior Grade Shen?"

Lieutenant Bashir stood. "Objection, Your Honor. This is the crudest kind of character assassination."

Commander Carr didn't look toward Bashir as she answered. "Your Honor, it is unfortunately necessary to establish motive for the offenses which Lieutenant Junior Grade Shen is charged with committing. Improper physical relationships tell us about the emotional stability of those who engage in them, as well as a pattern of actions contrary to good order and discipline. They also indicate that working relationships had been poisoned with… unpredictable results."

Paul wanted to yell across the court-room at her, but he knew that wouldn't do Jen any good and would get him ejected for the remainder of the trial. I can tell you don't want to say this stuff, Commander Carr, but I wish to God you hadn't had to do this. Carr's eyes strayed toward Paul and he read a message there. And you wish to God you hadn't had to, either, don't you?

Lieutenant Bashir was also shaking his head. "Your Honor, this testimony isn't evidence of anything. It's pure innuendo and unworthy of the trial counsel."

McMasters looked unhappy, but he shook his head, too. "No, Lieutenant. It's too early to determine whether we're talking innuendo or meaningful observations. As long as trial counsel continues to base the witness's testimony on his actual observations and personal knowledge, I must allow this line of questioning to continue. Objection overruled."

Commander Carr didn't look back toward Taber as she repeated her last question. "Lieutenant Taber, did you then believe you had witnessed the end of an inappropriate physical encounter between Lieutenant Schmidt and Lieutenant Junior Grade Shen?"

Taber glanced rapidly around, his eyes settling nowhere before resting back on Carr. "Yes. Yes, ma'am."

"Was that the only occasion when you witnessed physical encounters between them?"

"No. I'd see them touch each other sometimes."

"Did you ever confront them on such occasions and express your belief that their behavior was inappropriate?"

"Yes, ma'am. They… they laughed at me. Like it was some kind of joke."

Carr nodded, her gaze still averted from the witness stand. "And this behavior continued up until Lieutenant Schmidt's death?"

"I… I think so. But Lieutenant Schmidt got engaged just before we got underway, so maybe-"

Carr held up her palm. "No more questions."

McMasters looked toward Lieutenant Bashir with a grim smile. "I assume defense counsel has questions for the witness?"

Bashir, listening as Jen whispered to him with a fierce expression, nodded. "Yes, Your Honor." Paul heard him whisper back to Jen, "I've got it covered," as he stood up.

Lieutenant Bashir walked slowly and steadily toward the witness stand, coming close until he stood just before Lieutenant Taber, his face reflecting skeptical interest. "Let me recap what you just testified, Lieutenant. You say on one occasion you approached a compartment occupied by Lieutenant Shen and Lieutenant Schmidt. You were asked to wait before entering the compartment. When you were allowed to enter, Lieutenant Shen appeared to be in the act of finishing dressing. Correct so far?"

Taber nodded briskly. "Yes."

Bashir leaned even closer to Taber. "This compartment. Wasn't it Lieutenant Shen's stateroom?"

"I… "

"Was it or wasn't it?"

"I don't recall exactly."

"That's an odd detail to forget, isn't it, Lieutenant? When you remember so much else about the event so clearly?"

"Objection." Commander Carr didn't rise, didn't even look toward the bench. "Defense counsel is harassing the witness."

"Sustained." Judge McMasters seemed just as unenthusiastic as Carr. "Just ask your questions, Lieutenant Bashir."

"Yes, Your Honor. Lieutenant Taber, you're under oath. Lying under oath is perjury. Now think again. Was the compartment in question Lieutenant Shen's stateroom?"

"I… okay. Yes."

"Then, if I may summarize again, your testimony indicates that Lieutenant Shen was getting dressed in her own stateroom."

"I-"

"Do you find anything unusual about being asked to wait while a female officer finishes dressing in her own stateroom?"

"Objection-"

"Overruled."

Bashir leaned in closer to Taber, who seemed increasingly nervous. "Lieutenant, did you ever ask Lieutenant Shen for a date?"

"Objection!"

McMasters frowned down at Bashir. "Does counsel for the defense have any grounds for asking that question?"

"Your Honor, I have in my possession sworn statements signed by two surviving officers from the USS Maury that Lieutenant Taber had asked both Lieutenant Shen and Lieutenant Schmidt for dates on separate occasions. According to the statements, he was turned down in both cases. I will be happy to offer both statements to be added to the record for the trial."

Paul looked over at Commander Carr, who was finally looking at Lieutenant Taber with an icy expression.

Judge McMasters also looked toward the Trial Counsel's table. "Commander Carr? Do you still wish to object?"

"No, Your Honor, though I reserve the right to bring up the issue again after I've reviewed the statements in question."

"Very well. Continue, Lieutenant Bashir."

"Thank you, you honor." Lieutenant Bashir focused back on Taber, who looked both nervous and unhappy. "Will you answer the question, Lieutenant? Didn't you ask Lieutenant Shen for a date?"

"I might've."

"And Lieutenant Schmidt?"

"Maybe. I don't really remember."

Bashir leaned very close to Taber. "You're still under oath, Lieutenant," he said softly.

Taber nodded once. "Okay. Yes. I guess I did. If I had to say, I'd say I did. So what?"

"I'll ask the questions, if you don't mind, Lieutenant. When the hatch to Lieutenant Shen's stateroom opened, was there any physical contact apparent between her and Lieutenant Schmidt?"

"No, I said-"

"No hugging? No touching? No kissing?"

"No!"

"Lieutenant Schmidt was fully dressed?"

"Uh, yes."

"You testified you thought they were breathing heavily. Was either woman's hair in any disarray?"

"I… can't remember."

Bashir leaned very close. "Lieutenant, you've testified that a female officer was getting dressed in her own stateroom with the hatch closed, with another female officer present. Have you ever been in your own stateroom, getting dressed, with another male officer present?"

"Objection. Counsel for defense is harassing the witness."

"Overruled." McMasters shook his head. "It's a legitimate line of questioning for this witness."

"Your Honor, it implies-"

"I'll remind trial counsel that she introduced such implications into the trial. Continue, Lieutenant Bashir."

"Thank you, Your Honor. Lieutenant Taber? How about it? Have you ever gotten dressed in your stateroom, the hatch closed, with another male officer present?"

Taber glared at Bashir. "I'm sure I have."

"Would you regard it as reasonable to assume you had a physical relationship with that other officer because of that fact?"

"No."

"These other occasions you testified to, when you say you saw Lieutenant Schmidt and Lieutenant Shen touching each other, what kind of touches? Where?"

"I really don't-"

"On the arm?"

"Yes."

"The hand?"

"Uh, yes."

"Shoulder?"

"Maybe. I don't — "

"Did you ever see them touching other inappropriately? Touching each other on any part of their anatomy which was improper in public?"

"I… not directly."

"Not directly. I see." Lieutenant Bashir leaned back, still eyeing Lieutenant Taber. "Lieutenant, wouldn't you agree that any assumption that Lieutenant Shen and Lieutenant Schmidt had an inappropriate physical or emotional relationship based upon your testimony would be absurd, and that in fact your own assumptions are grounded in little more than anger at your own rejection by both women and your own sexual fantasies?"

"Objection!"

Before an obviously angry McMasters could speak, Lieutenant Bashir stepped back. "I withdraw the question, Your Honor. My apologies to the court."

McMasters didn't seem mollified by the apology. "Pull something like that again, Lieutenant Bashir, and you'll be held in contempt. The members of the court are directed to disregard counsel for the defense's last statement. Trial Counsel, do you wish to redirect?"

Even from where he sat, Paul could see the contempt in Commander Carr's eyes as she looked at Taber. "No, Your Honor. The government is quite through with this witness."

But Captain Carney leaned forward, his elbows on the members' table, his face intent. "Lieutenant Taber, you started to say something about Lieutenant Schmidt getting engaged?"

Taber, visibly sweating, looked toward Carney and nodded rapidly. "Yes, sir. She got engaged right before we got underway for the ops with the Michaelson. To some guy stationed on Franklin."

"Some guy? A male officer?"

"Uh, no, sir. He's some kind of civilian contractor."

"Very interesting, Lieutenant Taber. Thank you. No other questions? Thank you, Lieutenant."

Paul tried not to glare at Carney. The captain's thought process was transparent — that Jen and Lieutenant Schmidt had been pursuing some kind of affair, that Schmidt had broken it off to become engaged to a man, and Jen had been jealous. The stuff of bad movies. Commander Carr couldn't stomach that. She cut off Taber before he could really bring it out. But Carney did it, anyway.

Lieutenant Taber left, not looking to either side as he marched rapidly out of the courtroom. Commander Carr stood as soon as Taber had left. "The prosecution rests."

"Very well. Lieutenant Bashir, do you wish to make any motions?"

"No, Your Honor."

McMasters rapped sharply with his gavel. "This court-martial is closed. It will reconvene at 1000 tomorrow morning for the presentation of evidence by the defense. In this courtroom."

Once again everyone waited, standing while the judge and members of the court left through their respective doors. Jen stood at attention the entire time, moving only after the masters-at-arms came to stand beside her in order to escort her back to the brig. She also didn't look at anyone as she left the court-room.

Paul waited while Lieutenant Bashir made some notes on his data pad. "I never thought Commander Carr would do something like that."

Bashir glanced at him. "Like what? That stuff at the end?"

"Yes. I mean, it's crap."

"Almost certainly. But the government had to find some motivation for what they allege Lieutenant Shen did."

"But they didn't prove anything! That little bastard Taber just described totally innocuous things and implied there was something improper about them."

"Right." Bashir shook his head. "Unfortunately, in this case all the government has to do is introduce a reasonable level of belief in the members' minds that something was going on. I warned Jen about this. I told her a military judge would be far less likely to be swayed by innuendo. But she insisted on being tried by members, because she was sure they'd stand with a fellow officer."

Paul sagged back into his seat. "But why would Commander Carr stoop to that kind of thing?"

"Because she's got a job to do, Paul." Bashir pointed toward the trial counsel's table. "She's in charge of prosecuting this case. Carr's in charge of bringing to justice someone she believes murdered sixty-one of her shipmates. I disagree, obviously. But that's why Commander Carr would do that."

Paul nodded, feeling numb. Carr really believes Jen must be guilty, doesn't she? Carr wouldn't do this if she didn't believe that, didn't believe that she was legally right to introduce something like Taber's garbage. Even if I could tell Carr hated having to do it.

"If it's any consolation," Bashir added, "she pulled her punches."

"What?"

"You heard me. Carr pulled her punches. She had to sow suspicion in the minds of the members of the court that Lieutenant Shen had engaged in improper relationships with other officers on the Maury. She did that. But if she'd really gone after the accusations it would've looked a lot more damning."

"How?"

"Oh, take that little sleaze Taber. The Alex Carr I know would've checked up more on him, found out if he had ulterior motives for his little fairy tale about Shen and Schmidt. She didn't. Consciously or subconsciously she left me an opening to discredit Taber. She also could've raised the issue of hearsay on those statements about his asking the ladies for dates. It wouldn't have held up because my sources personally witnessed the events, but still…"

Paul looked over to where Carr was reading something at the trial counsel's table. "She hasn't looked happy. Not like when she was trying to get Silver convicted."

"She's got a job to do, Paul. She's doing it. She thinks it's necessary. But, like you say, she's not loving it this time." Bashir sighed. "Unfortunately, even when she's not loving it, Alex Carr is one tough opponent."

"It doesn't help that Captain Carney's obviously made up his mind already."

"You've picked up on that, eh? No. It doesn't help. But he's allowed to do that. He's not allowed to order the other members of the court how to vote, but he can exercise his seniority as president of the members." Lieutenant Bashir looked toward the now-vacant table used by the members of the court, his jaw tight.

Paul just nodded, knowing what Bashir was probably thinking. Captain Carney had decided what decision he thought the Navy wanted, so Captain Carney was going to do what he could to make sure that decision was reached. That way, the Navy would hopefully be grateful to Captain Carney, and it never hurt to have the Navy grateful when the next promotion board came up. I hope he's wrong. I hope the Navy as an institution isn't pushing for Jen's conviction regardless of whatever the truth might be. I can't believe it. I can't believe that some of the people involved in this, people like Alex Carr, would be part of that kind of thing. Like Mom said. There's a lot of good people in the Navy. People who surely wouldn't stand for that.

"It'd be a lot simpler if it was a big conspiracy, wouldn't it?" Paul stated aloud.

Bashir gave him a skeptical look. "Why?"

"Something that big, somebody'd talk, right? Somebody would refuse to play along."

"I like to think so." Bashir shook his head. "But it doesn't feel like a grand conspiracy to me. The senior people I've seen pushing for this court-martial seem to think Lieutenant Shen's guilty. That's why they're pushing it." He laughed bitterly. "It'd be a lot simpler if they didn't believe it. Then you and I and Lieutenant Shen wouldn't be here." Bashir paused, then reached into his pocket and offered Paul a data coin. "You asked me to look into SEERS. This is everything the government provided."

Paul took the coin gingerly. "Everything the government provided? Nothing else?"

"There isn't supposed to be anything else, Paul. I asked for all material pertaining to SEERS. The government's obligated to provide that if I ask for it and it's reasonably available. When Commander Carr gave me this she said it's the whole ball of wax and she's looked at it all. If Alex Carr says it's everything, then it's everything, and if she says she's looked at it, then she's looked at it. Now here it is for you to look at. Development, testing, evaluation, the works. I've skimmed it and I don't know how they managed to pack so much stuff into one data coin."

"You've just skimmed it?"

Bashir raised one eyebrow at Paul. "Don't sound so shocked. I went through all the executive summaries, did global searches for certain words and phrases, and so on. I'll be frank. I didn't find anything that contradicted what Admiral Hidalgo said. But if you want to dig into it, be my guest. I'd really appreciate input from a line officer, especially one as motivated as you are."

"You'll get it." Paul put the coin away carefully. Good thing I'm on leave. If this contains all the material Bashir says it does then I'll take a long time to go through it. And there's only so much time somebody like Colleen can give me for it because she's got her own job to do. "Thank you, sir. I'm sorry I…"

"Thought I wasn't working hard enough for Ms. Shen? I'm doing all I can. Let me know if you find anything in there. As soon as you can."

Paul rushed back to the Michaelson, where Colleen Kilgary copied the coin and promised to look at it even as she couldn't help casting a despairing glance at the lengthy 'to-do' list visible on her display. Sitting down in his own stateroom, Paul began scrolling through documents, trying not be overwhelmed by the sheer mass of material on the disc. Just the listing of document titles seemed to go on forever. Now I know why Bashir just went to summaries and did word searches. There's months of work in here. Why can't he get the court-martial suspended until we have time to go through this in detail? Even as he framed the question to himself, Paul saw the probable answer in his own search results. Every reference to "failure" or other likely keywords was in the context of avoidance or ensuring it couldn't happen. Because we need to find some indication in this mass of charts, graphs, data and words that SEERS could've caused or contributed to what happened. And none of it's saying that.

Paul kept going, nonetheless, until he realized he wasn't actually absorbing what he read anymore. His numbed brain just slid over the surface of endless pages, all of which seemed to say that SEERS was doing just fine, thank you very much. Just my luck. The one system I want to be screwed up somehow or other, and it's the only system in the Navy that isn't screwed up somehow or other. Something in the back of his head hesitated over that, but the thought dwindled away into nothing before he could grasp it. Paul shut off his display with a muttered curse. I can't even think. I need a break. Sorry, Jen. Jen… Maybe they'd let me talk to her. Cheer her up a bit, and remotivate me. I can ask.

The brig allowed him some time to visit Jen. That surprised Paul at first, until he mentioned it to Sharpe and the master-at-arms nodded knowingly. "They want you to soften her up, sir. Not deliberately. But maybe get her to blurt out something to you, maybe get her thinking about cutting a deal."

While he was waiting for Jen, Paul read the warning posted on the wall of the visitor's room. "All conversations and movements within this compartment are subject to audio and video monitoring at any and all times. Use of this compartment indicates acceptance of these conditions." I hadn't really noticed that before. I wonder how many prisoners have said something here that they regretted?

A master-at-arms escorted Jen into the room, checked the door Paul had entered by to ensure it was securely locked, then left through the other door. Jen sat down heavily in the chair opposite Paul. Paul cleared his throat cautiously. "Hi, Jen."

"Hi."

"I, uh…" Want to cheer you up but hadn't really thought about how I'd do that beyond being here, which doesn't seem to be doing the trick. "How-" I'm going to ask how she's doing? What a stupid question.

Jen looked away from him. "I can't decide whether to be angry or despairing."

"We'll beat this, Jen."

" We aren't facing anything. I am. Thanks in no small part to your favorite lawyer."

"Commander Carr's doing her job, Jen. It's not fair-"

" Fair?" Jen finally looked at him, glaring with anger. "If you're going to bring up fair then what am I doing here?"

"I… I just wanted…"

"It's very convenient, isn't it?"

"What? Convenient?"

"You know what I mean. That hot-shot babe gets me convicted, leaving Paul Sinclair free to fill the role of her part-time boy-toy."

Paul held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Jen, are you serious? You can't really believe- "

"How am I know what to believe, Paul Sinclair?"

"I would never choose Commander Carr over you. Not for an instant."

"Then why are you defending her? Siding with her even while she drags my reputation through the mud?"

Paul looked down, unable to meet her gaze for a moment. Look at it from her perspective. She's right. "I'm sorry. I'm here, I'm at the trial, for you. Not for anyone else."

"Can you believe it? Bad enough I had to sit there while they recited all those names. Names of my friends and co-workers." Her face worked with emotion. "And what could I do? Cry? I couldn't do that. I'm an officer. I have to be strong."

"You're stronger than I believed possible, Jen. I mean that."

"I wish it helped. But I'm sure they're figuring out some way to use that against me. Just like they're using my professional skills against me. How can I defend myself against this? I'm supposed to be able to refute evidence. To strike back at hard facts. But there aren't any. There's just these ghosts, things I can't hit no matter how hard I swing. How do I prove I'm not guilty? Or am I crazy to even ask?"

"You're not guilty, Jen. And you're not insane, either."

Jen sank back into the chair, elbows on her knees and her head buried in her hands. "No hard targets to hit. That little son of a bitch Taber. I can't believe he made that stuff up."

"Lieutenant Bashir discredited him."

"No, he didn't! You saw the members!"

"Bashir proved Taber didn't know what he was talking about, that he'd distorted what he testified about, that he had ulterior motives. Jen, I'll tell Bashir that I'll go on the stand and testify for you. That I know you couldn't have had anything improper going on with Schmidt because you couldn't have done that. You're too honest."

Jen smiled sourly. "Honest. That's doubtless another crime on my part."

"Everyone knows Taber was wrong. Nobody'll believe him."

"That's wrong, Paul Sinclair. You know that's wrong. You know what everyone'll be thinking. Sailors. They leave their marriage vows and other commitments at the pier. They sail off and have affairs and patronize hookers, and it's always been that way and always will be that way. You know they'll think that. And even if you and Schmidt's guy go up there and swear teary-eyed that she and I were faithful to you two everyone'll just think 'those poor guys. Always the last to know. Don't they know what sailors are like?' You know that's what they'll think, Paul!"

Paul bit his lip as he met Jen's gaze. Do I deny that? Knowing she's right? I can't see where pretending that I'm oblivious is going to make her feel any better. "Yeah. I know that."

"How the hell do I prove I didn't have an affair with a dead woman? How do I prove that?"

"I don't know." Paul let his helpless feelings show. "This isn't how it's supposed to work."

"Oh, that makes me feel a lot better. Thanks for letting me know that."

"Jen, I'm doing everything I-"

" Then why am I still here?"

Paul stared at her, momentarily silent with shock at the way her anger had erupted. Anger obviously directed at him once again. How do I answer a question like that? I don't know. Maybe that's the only answer that fits now. "I don't know." Jen leaned forward so she could press her fingertips against her temples. Paul could see the flesh around her nails whitening from the force Jen was using. "I'm there every day, Jen."

She didn't look up. "For me or for her?"

"Her? Her who?"

"Commander Carr." Jen almost spat the name this time.

Paul felt his own anger flaring now. "Jen, for God's sake knock it off. I told you that's nonsense. You know full well-"

"I don't know anything anymore, Mr. Sinclair." She finally raised her head to look at him again, but Paul found his own eyes flinching away from the emotions mirrored in Jen's. "I'm fighting for my life. And I don't know why."

Paul's voice sounded rough to him. "I told you I don't know why either."

"Then you're not doing either of us much damn good, are you?"

He stared straight into her eyes, not believing what he'd heard. "What…? Jen, what're you doing?"

She looked down again, concealing her haunted eyes from Paul once more. "I don't know," she whispered. "Just go away."

"No!"

"Then shut up or something."

"Jen, this isn't like you."

"What do you know what I'm like? What do I know what I'm like? Maybe it's all a big illusion, maybe I've always been an awful screw-up, an accident waiting to happen. And I did something or didn't do something and a lot of people who trusted me died. How do I know that isn't true?"

"Because it's not!"

" Then why am I here?"

"I…"

"You're not helping me. You're not helping you. Give it up. Just go away and let me sail off to hell alone."

"I don't want to."

"And I don't care."

"Jen." Paul waited as minutes passed without Jen moving, then finally he stood up slowly. "Okay." Shouldn't I say something else? What? I understand? How the hell could I understand? I don't even know what the hell's going on. "I'll see you tomorrow." Jen didn't respond, so Paul left, feeling an emptiness inside only partially filled by his anger at her.

Franklin offered no refuges, no places to hole up alone with his anger. The rent-a-shacks were all tied up, used by people brought in to work on the Maury or assist in or provide press coverage of the court-martial. He didn't even dare wander about, knowing that he might run into some press crew looking for a chance to stick a camera in his face. He'd never wanted that, and certainly didn't want it while his anger with Jen was burning so bright. All I've done for her. All I've tried to do. And she shoves me away. Great. Thanks. You're welcome. And go to hell, too.

Fortunately, there was always the ship. The Michaelson sat securely at her berth, her quarterdeck quiet at this time of the evening. A startled Jack Abacha standing watch on the quarterdeck saluted Paul onboard.

Paul swung in the wardroom door in search of coffee, then tried to swing back out again immediately when he saw Commander Sykes seated at his usual place. Sykes, however, raised a commanding hand and gestured to a seat near him. Paul scowled, but obeyed. "Yes, sir?"

"Ah. 'Yes, sir.' What's the occasion for the formality, young Sinclair?"

"Suppo, I'm sorry, but I'm really not in the mood for a discussion."

"In this case, that may mean you require one." Sykes lost his habitual smile and eyed Paul. "You've been to see Jen Shen."

"Yes, sir."

"It didn't go well."

"Commander Sykes, sir, with all due respect-"

Sykes raised his hand again, cutting off Paul. "Not well at all. Would you be surprised to know I expected this? No, don't turn that unflattering shade of red. It's not really about you and her. It's about what she's trapped in."

Paul took a long, deep breath, trying to calm himself. Sykes has given me a lot of good advice, and I know he really cares about Jen. I ought to listen to him. "Suppo, I know what she's trapped in. But why would that make her…"

"Lash out at you? I assume that's what happened?"

"Yes, sir." Paul stared at Sykes. "You do know what's going on? What?"

"I'm afraid it comes down to two things, Paul. One is what's happening to Jen, and the other is that you haven't fully appreciated the impact of those events upon her."

"Dammit, Suppo, I've been doing just about nothing but trying to appreciate what she must feel like!"

Sykes took a drink before replying. "Think about it from Jen's perspective, Paul."

"I've been doing that, Suppo. I understand how awful it must feel to be unjustly accused of such a crime."

"But you haven't fully grasped Jen's feelings." Sykes looked off into the distance for a moment before focusing back on Paul. "Jen's being accused of having done something horrible by people who, so far as she knows, have no reason to persecute her. The entire ponderous machinery of the Navy seems focused on proving she did this awful thing. Why? Why would they accuse her of such a thing? Why work so hard to prove her guilt? Jen wouldn't be human if she didn't fear deep inside that there might be a reason, that she might somehow in some way be guilty."

"Suppo-"

Sykes gestured for silence. "Wait. I'm not saying Jen's guilty. Not at all. I am saying she must in the dark hours of the night wonder why so many are convinced of her guilt. And she must wonder what about her causes them to be so convinced. Why did they charge her with these crimes? Why do they seek to convict her? Somewhere inside her, Jen surely fears there might be some basis for it all. Under such stress, under such accusations, even saints would question themselves. It's common after major traumas like what the Maury experienced. Feelings of inadequacy, of failure. Survivor guilt. You've heard of that? Wondering if you could've done something to change the outcome."

Paul stared silently at the supply officer for a long moment. "Like I felt after Chief Asher died."

Sykes nodded. "Exactly like that. Magnified sixty-one times. And magnified as well by the criminal charges against her."

"My God." Paul felt an icy knot inside. After Jen's father finished that investigation into Asher's death he didn't directly blame me, but he laid enough guilt on me for maybe not preventing the fire that I've carried it around ever since. And Jen isn't just being blamed by implication, but directly. "She's actually wondering if she's really, somehow, guilty. If she deserves what's happening to her."

"Either because of this crime or because of something else she's imagining she's done wrong and this is a cosmic way of balancing the scales. She'd never admit it, Paul. Not Jen. But I'm certain such fears haunt her. Only an insane person wouldn't question their innocence when so many seem intent on proving their guilt."

Paul closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall the emotions he'd seen in Jen. He's right. Sykes is saying some of the same things Jen did, but from a different perspective. Jen's scared. Not just scared of being convicted. She's scared of somehow being guilty. "She's not."

Sykes nodded as if Paul had spoken aloud his entire train of thought. "No. I certainly don't believe so." He sighed and took another drink of coffee. "All we have to do is convince the world of that. And all you have to do as well is ensure Jen knows you remain certain of that, regardless if what else may happen."

"If she needs me to reassure her, then why'd she push me away?" Paul felt his anger rising again at the memory. "I wanted to help and she practically kicked me out the door."

"Jen isn't the sort to ask for help, even when being subjected to the kind of test she's now enduring."

Paul shook his head, looking down at the patterns in the floor. "So she treats me like hell and I'm supposed to ignore it? How can I retain my own self-respect if I let her rip me up? Okay, she's being tested, but if she reacts to it by attacking me, what am I supposed to think?"

"Perhaps, Mr. Sinclair, you should think about the possibility that Jen's not the only one being tested."

Paul stared at the swirls in a small patch of the floor. Is it also about me? Isn't that self-centered to even think? No. It's the opposite. It's about whether I'm good enough for her, whether I really believe in Jen, whether I'll really stick with her for better or worse. Even when she's being a psycho-bitch from hell for reasons beyond her control. His anger faded and he looked up, meeting Commander Sykes' eyes. "You're right. If I don't stick with Jen, I'll be fulfilling her worst fears. I can't let that happen." If I did… I'd never deserve anything good in my life again. What'd my dad say? 'Not if you were worth a damn.' He was right, too.

Sykes waited until he knew Paul was listening again. "I think it's safe to say that right now Jen is believing she doesn't deserve you because of her own faults. Real and imagined. If you go away, it proves she's right about that, doesn't it?"

"Then for once I'm going to prove her wrong and refuse to let her say otherwise."

Sykes smiled. "Good lad. Mind you, if you end up marrying her this may be the last time you get to do that."

"If only I could answer her question, Suppo. Why? Why is this happening to Jen?"

"If we knew the answer to that, I suspect we'd also know how and why the deaths on the Maury actually occurred."

"You think the people trying Jen know the real truth?"

Sykes pursed his lips, then took another drink. "Do you believe the people trying Jen would be doing so if they knew she wasn't guilty?"

"No." He thought of Captain Carney. "Oh, some of them. But not all of them. Not even close."

"I'm afraid that may rule out a grand conspiracy. And I confess to having no other ideas, myself."

Paul nodded. "I can't fault you for that. No one's been able to come with other ideas, even Jen and her lawyer. Small wonder she's feeling despair. I just didn't… what am I going to do when you're gone, Suppo? I'm going to miss you."

"Nonsense. Once free of my critical oversight you young officers shall doubtless frolic in wild abandon."

"After the outstanding example you've provided us of minimizing movement during the day? I don't think so."

"Hmmm." Sykes gave Paul an arch look. "I'm not sure that's a compliment. But I'll nonetheless offer you some bonus advice. If you want Jen to feel supported, then support from someone she respects as a professional but thinks personally dislikes her would mean much, I think."

Paul frowned. "Who do you mean?"

Sykes took another drink and smiled. "She Who Must Be Obeyed."

"Commander Herdez?"

"Exactly."

"Does she know you call her that?" Paul asked, laughing despite everything.

"Let's say she tolerates the occasional use of the phrase. From me. I wouldn't recommend it for use by, say, lieutenants junior grade."

"Suppo, I'm not an ensign, anymore. I wouldn't do something that stupid."

Sykes smiled again. "Young Mr. Sinclair, I have seen admirals do things which could be characterized as 'that stupid.' Go see Commander Herdez, first thing in the morning."

"Tomorrow's Saturday. They're going ahead with the court-martial but it's not a normal working day."

"Not for most, but as you're aware Commander Herdez is not normal. You know she'll be in her office, and she'll be there early. Tell her of your worries and see how she responds."

"Yes, sir." Paul paused. "How much does she already know about all this, Suppo?"

"Already know? About what everyone else knows, I suppose."

"She's not getting any inside information?"

Sykes managed to look puzzled. "Inside information? From whom?"

"I can't imagine."

Colleen Kilgary intercepted Paul on his way to his stateroom. "Sorry I hadn't got back to you on that SEERS documentation, Paul."

Paul took in Colleen's haggard appearance and tried to smile reassuringly. "That's okay. It's not like you don't have a lot of other things to do."

"Yeah, but I know how important this is." She made a frustrated gesture. "I've been over it. A lot of it, anyway. I can't find anything concrete in all that garbage about significant problems with SEERS." Colleen stopped to yawn mightily. "Sorry. Anyhow, I did get this vague feeling something's missing."

Paul felt a surge of interest. "Really?"

"It's just vague. There's nothing solid there. Everything looks good. It's just this feeling that there ought to've been more problems with the thing. But it looks like SEERS hit its developmental time line in all the right ways. That's unusual, but not impossible."

Paul nodded to cover up his disappointment. "Nothing's really missing then, that you can tell."

Another extended yawn. "Nope. It's just a feeling that there ought to be some more problems documented on such a big project. You know, engineers have got to be skeptical. But Jen herself said they hadn't run into major problems with SEERS on the Maury, right?"

"But, missing…" Paul knew he was grasping at straws. "Could there be something that's being kept from Jen's defense?"

"By who?" Colleen frowned. "Or is it whom? I can never get that straight. Look at the people bringing the case against Jen. I've met Admiral Hidalgo a number of times. He's a bit pompous and certain that he knows everything there is to know, but why would he cover up problems with SEERS? Leaving out any human or professional considerations, it wouldn't help Hidalgo's career any if the engineering plants he was responsible for started blowing up right and left. Or Admiral Silver. Maybe he doesn't like you, and maybe his leadership style makes Stalin look like Santa Clause, but deliberately letting something into the fleet that'll tear apart ships?"

Paul nodded again, his head sagging. "I wish I could argue that point, but as far as I know you're right. They wouldn't do this if they had any indications SEERS was dangerous."

"And what you had sure seemed like everything on SEERS."

"The prosecution swears it is, and I honestly don't believe the trial counsel would lie about that."

Colleen spread her hands helplessly. "Then it couldn't have been an accident. That's my professional judgment."

"Damn."

"Paul, I'd lie if I thought it would help Jen. But even a lie has to have credibility. It has to match what people expect. I'm really, really sorry."

"Thanks, Colleen. You've done an awful lot, and I really appreciate it, and I'm sure Jen does, too." Even though if she saw you right now she'd probably try to tear your head off like she did with me.

Colleen's small answering smile looked as forced as it certainly was. She staggered off to her own stateroom. Paul reached his, grateful his roommates were either absent or already asleep, and pulled himself up into his bunk. His dreams were full of mazes, all ending in blank walls.