Tranquility's Heirs

Part Eight

This science fiction novel is a war story, a love story, and a mystery. All characters are over 18 years old. All rights reserved.

Recap; The computers wish the McKinsey expedition destroyed but Grey has offered to put them on trial for their crimes.

Recap; Vandebrown tricked Mike in a scheme to take control of the moonbase. The sentinel attempted to interfere but failed to prevent Vandebrown's escape.

* * * * * *

Chapter 8

THE TRIAL

Hours later, Roger Vandebrown emerged from the Lucky Clover Tavern struggling to orient himself with the once familiar surroundings of the community level. Slightly less than sober and sleepy from an unscheduled nap, he walked unsteadily toward the administration section and turned with a sigh down the main corridor to the small, unmarked hall, signaling for admittance to the Governor's Quarters. He found Valerie slumped before the darkened monitor room computer panels, apparently frustrated by a lack of response.

"Back from the dead," Vandebrown announced.

"Hello, Roger," Valerie said, looking up in surprise. "Kris told us you were all right."

"Shouldn't you be in the brig?" Mike asked, entering from the study.

"Peace, Colonel, peace," Vandebrown said, tossing him a cold container of Moonstone Cooler. He walked past Mike and Valerie into the study and plopped down in an overstuffed chair next to McKinsey. Drowsy at first, McKinsey stirred and yawned.

"Good to see you again, Laureen," Vandebrown smiled. "It appears we old timers didn't fare so well, heh?"

"You look no worse for wear, Roger dear," McKinsey said dryly. "Lose your crown in a thorn bush?"

"I have, I have," he laughed.

"So? How come you're walking around loose?" Mike asked as he popped the cooler open.

"I have given my parole," Vandebrown said. "My pledged word of honor. My last possession. Like you, I am a prisoner. A captive of diminished illusions."

"A drunken bore," McKinsey said, leaning back as if returning to sleep, but as soon as Mike returned to the monitor room, she sat up again with her hand on Vandebrown's arm.

"Oh, Roger. If only you had listened to me. But it's still not too late," she whispered.

"You have a contingency plan?" he asked.

"There's still much I've haven't discovered, but I believe..."

"Laureen?" Valerie said from the doorway.

"Yes, child?" McKinsey answered.

"Are you sure there's no way to bring up the higher function levels? I've tried every activation code I know," Valerie asked.

"Those are independent systems, dear. The computers will converse when they have something to say," McKinsey answered.

Valerie nodded and sat down on a long couch set against the wall. Mike followed and sat down next to her. The silence was pronounced.

"Where is Captain Fairfield and our young host?" Vandebrown eventually asked.

"We don't know," Valerie said. "Kris called in quite a while ago and told us what happened. Since then we've just been waiting."

"Did you see the fight?" Mike asked.

"Indeed I did," Vandebrown said.

"No one got hurt, so I guess it wasn't too bad," Mike hinted.

"I've never seen anything like the skirmish those kids put up," Vandebrown confessed. "Scared the hell out of me."

There was another moment of silence. Even McKinsey was surprised by Vandebrown's remark.

"You know, I was in a fire fight during the evacuation," Vandebrown recalled. "24 July, 2049. Stormed the Siberia mining station with B Squad. Engineers refused to leave so we had to dig 'em out rough style. Stubborn bunch. Ever see a man's suit tear open in a vacuum? Face goes black. Blood bursts in little splatters as his body tears up inside out. Hell of a sight."

He reached in his pocket for another cooler and opened the top slowly, taking a long thoughtful sip.

"I was also there when old Tom McKinsey surrounded the 101st Rangers in landing bay major and forced our surrender," Vandebrown continued. "Jaime, that is, my brother James, kept our attention occupied while the seekers and securatrons crept up on us from the dark. Caught us cold. You kids would've liked Jaime. He was about your age, Zopek. The last idealistic man at the end of an idealistic age. Steady. Competent. Free with a joke. Would have been a general by now if things had gone different.

"Anyway, next thing we knew, the seekers were everywhere. Some wanted to fight it out, but Captain Hallet ordered the squad to stand down. We might've had a chance then, twenty fully equipped soldiers against half a dozen seekers and a few untrained scientists. Not now, though. Not now."

The room grew quiet as Vandebrown nursed his drink and lost himself in old memories.

"How long are we gonna just sit here?" Mike finally asked.

"This is jail, Michael. Become accustomed to it. We may be here for years," McKinsey said.

"Years?!" he shouted.

"Maybe you should think about that next time you let Kris slap you around," McKinsey snarled.

The corridor access doors opened with a loud whoosh sound, and as everyone looked into the monitor room, they saw Kris and Grey enter, both comfortably attired in civilian clothing. Grey wore light blue work overalls and a blaster strapped to his hip. Kris was dressed in a sporty new jumper, her hair freshly washed, and she was laughing at something her companion had said. Grey's face turned grave when he stepped into the study. It wasn't easy for him to enter such a bustling, smelly, crowded room of humans, the largest number of humans he had ever seen. He put aside his personal discomfort to focus on his task.

Vandebrown jumped up and offered to shake hands. Valerie stood next to Mike, fascinated and a little awed. Mike couldn't believe the so-called governor was such a runt. McKinsey remained seated, pretending only modest interest. Grey ignored them all and bounced over to the old oak desk in the far corner of the study, positioning himself on a stool.

"Everybody can sit down now," Kris said, taking a prearranged station near the fireplace. She, too, wore a blaster.

Grey waited for the humans to organize themselves, then rotated a desktop computer monitor and signaled the activation switch. Various colored signature patterns appeared on the screen.

"Administration Computer," Grey summoned. "Let it be entered that on this day, the 24th of July, 2069, by my authority as Governor of the Moon, I am calling this hearing to order." As the listening humans moved to the edge of their seats, Grey faced them with a frown. "And for the record, let me state that the arrival of this unauthorized expedition has caused great destruction and unwanted inconvenience."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Mike said.

"Perhaps there will be time for pleasantries later," Grey answered, oblivious to Mike's sarcasm. He reached into a drawer, pulled out a bundle of notes, and organized them on the desktop, his hands revealing a trace of nervousness that only Kris seemed to notice.

"Computers of Tranquility, are you prepared to proceed?" Grey asked.

He knew they were, the signature patterns showed aggressively on the limited function monitor, but he wanted to be official as possible. The Administration Computer blinked a collective affirmative.

"Are you humans ready to provide a defense?" Grey asked.

Mike and Valerie appeared surprised, but McKinsey rose with a dash of her trademark spunk. Vandebrown was grinning before she even got out of her chair, wondering what kind of stunt she would try this time.

"Mister Governor, may we ask who you are and by what authority you presume judicial powers over us?" McKinsey began.

Though Grey was able to retain a grim demeanor, the flash of satisfaction was unmistakable. He pulled a document from the pile, displayed it to the computer monitor, then passed it to Kris. Kris glanced at the documentation briefly before handing it to McKinsey.

"My name is Grey Waters, a verified citizen of the Lunar Republic," he said. "I was appointed Governor of the Moon by my predecessor, Doctor Thomas McKinsey, for a term that shall continue until such time as the current state of emergency may be lifted." He waited for her to study the official papers.

"And if we choose not to recognize your republic?" McKinsey asked. "As Northern Alliance citizens, we're under no obligation to do so."

"Then you should have brought more troops," Grey answered.

McKinsey laughed in her most dignified manner.

"You certainly are my dear Tom's son," McKinsey flattered.

"Why do you say that?" Grey asked, flustered for the first time.

"I know he and his love interest were expecting," McKinsey said with a wink. "He would have been very proud of you."

"Thomas McKinsey would be pleased. I've been designed according to his specifications," Grey agreed, struggling to suppress an unwanted emotion.

"Your mother was quite lovely, too, as I remember," McKinsey continued, misjudging her subject badly. "You have her complexion and fine features."

"Enough meaningless speculation," Grey nearly shouted. "I have schedules to meet and undesirable guests to dispose of. We shall proceed with the business of this court. Please take your seat, Doctor McKinsey."

A bewildered McKinsey sat down.

"Captain Fairfield?" he summoned.

"Here, sir," Kris answered, stepping forward where the computer monitor could observe her.

"The Tranquility MC6000 Defense Computer has charged you with invasion of the moon. Further, MC4000 Security Computer has charged you with felony trespassing. How do you plead?"

"I plead not guilty," Kris replied. "By right of my father, Doctor Chester Woodward Fairfield, Chief Engineer of the Tranquility Lunar Colony, I claim citizenship of the Lunar Republic, the laws of which I recognize and obey. Therefore, I can't be guilty of invasion." She paused and looked to Grey for encouragement, hoping she was addressing the issues as instructed. His eyes hinted a quiet affirmative.

"As an heir of Chester Fairfield, and therefore one of Tranquility's minority stockholders, I have access rights to all public facilities," Kris continued. "I haven't entered any areas forbidden by statue, and therefore cannot have committed..." She paused, trying to remember the proper terminology

"Felony..." Grey hinted.

"Felony trespass. Or any trespassing... of any kind," she concluded.

Kris returned to her original position by the fireplace as a furious burst of activity appeared on the computer monitor. Grey watched the heightened signature patterns and refrained from smiling. Computers are so predictable, he thought smugly.

"If a charge of treason were filed against you, how would you respond?" Grey asked, forestalling the computers as they searched the law library.

"Because I didn't know the true purpose of this mission, which can be confirmed by our shuttlecraft records and preflight briefings, I would plead not guilty of treason," Kris replied. "I also volunteer to undergo a truth scan to provide corroborating evidence." She glanced at Grey for reassurance.

Secretly holding his breath, Grey watched the monitor screen for the computers' reactions. The systems were badly divided on the meaning of the proceedings, few of them registering favorably. It was too late to turn back, however, so he plunged ahead with a burst of bravado.

"Captain Kris Fairfield," Grey announced. "I have referred to the principles of the Custodians, including notes left to me by Governor Thomas McKinsey. These principles and recommendations outline the basis for the laws of the Lunar Republic. On the basis of these laws, which I have interpreted in an unbiased and completely impartial manner, I am forced to find insufficient evidence to support the charges against you. Computers of Tranquility? Can you produce any evidence to refute this defendant's testimony?"

The monitor readings scrambled as the higher function levels recalibrated, the minor systems tapping the analysis modes and confusing the flux. Finally, the Defense Computer increased power and took control of the matrix, the system level rising in a mighty temper before allowing the Communications Computer to distribute access. Grey waited for the channel to stabilize, encouraged when the blue signature patterns retained control. But surprisingly, the Defense Computer declined to enter additional charges. The Life Support Computer was silent. Even the Security Computer had nothing to say.

"In that case, all charges against this defendant are dismissed," Grey announced. "You are released from custody, Captain Fairfield."

Kris nodded, happy events were going so well, while Valerie and Mike smiled in relief. Grey felt his blood run cold, the monitor readings so reticent there could be but one meaning. At least this time I'll be ready, he thought.

"Doctor Valerie Fairfield," Grey said defiantly.

Valerie looked to Kris for reassurance, then slowly stood up and faced the computer monitor.

"Yes?" she said.

"Your citizenship and previous residence here are a matter of public record. Computers of Tranquility, do you have charges to file against this defendant beyond those that have already been refuted?"

Grey noticed a grudging respect on the monitor screens as various systems evaluated his use of procedure. The humans appeared a little mystified.

"No charges?" he asked. "Very well. Welcome, Doctor Fairfield, it's good to have you back."

"That's all?" Valerie said, pleasantly surprised.

She flashed one of her famous smiles and sat down, her long blonde hair draped over her shoulder just as she wore it on television.

"Colonel Michael Zopek," Grey summoned.

Mike jumped to his feet, daring anyone to accuse him of a crime. Grey adjusted the monitor to give the computers a better look, wondering if they found the overgrown human as ridiculous as he did.

"Are there any additional charges against this defendant who is, under the law, the legal spouse of a Lunar citizen?" Grey asked.

The computers realized they were on weak ground. Even before the launch, they had admitted the younger crew members were but pawns of McKinsey.

"No charges?" Grey asked as if disappointed. "That's unfortunate, I can think of a few I'd like to file."

Mike got angry, but when he heard Valerie laugh and noticed the amused expressions around him, he shuffled uncomfortably.

"Welcome to Tranquility," Grey announced. "You may sit."

Again Grey watched the monitor screen with interest. A revolution had occurred. Some computers realized the significance immediately, others remained ignorant until explanations began to circulate. Only the humans failed to notice that twenty years of official isolation had come to an end.

"Now we come to the more difficult cases," Grey said, finding his breath suddenly short. "Major Roger Vandebrown."

Vandebrown stood up in hopeful confidence, even scheming of ways to gain minor advantages. But Grey's furrowed brow warned him it wasn't to be that easy.

"Major Vandebrown, you are charged with invasion, conspiracy to overthrow the Lunar Republic, and felony destruction of public property. How do you plead?"

Vandebrown shuffled and kicked at the floor, stalling for time. He understood Grey was rationalizing for the benefit of the computer system, believed there must be a good reason for it, and thought fast for technicalities.

"If I may deal with each charge in turn?" he asked with energetic style, being sure to stand where the monitor could view him. "On the subject of invasion, I stoutly deny the charge! I was a pilot for Tranquility, flying supply missions through the orbital paths long after it was safe, and I have a flight permit containing no expiration date."

McKinsey knew of the flight permit and smiled. Grey didn't know and was impressed. The higher function levels were appalled when the Administration Computer verified Vandebrown's statement. The special permit was authorized by the colony chief security officer and never rescinded. Grey wasn't surprised when the computers accepted the explanation. Acts of the Custodians were not to be questioned.

"As for conspiracy to overthrow the Lunar Republic, this is an outrageous lie," Vandebrown continued with a flare. "My brother, Colonel James Vandebrown, died for the Lunar Republic. I, myself, would die for the republic. But how was I to know the republic still survived? My intention in coming here was to revive the Lunar Republic and make it stronger than ever."

"With yourself as king," Mike added.

"Yes. A conceit, I admit. But how was I to know leadership already existed?" Vandebrown acknowledged.

Grey didn't know if it was by insight or sheer chance that Vandebrown had stumbled upon a tenable defense, but he was glad to see the most serious charges effectively neutralized. Then he altered the formula.

"And the last charge, Major? Felony destruction of public property?" Grey asked.

"Oh, that," Vandebrown said. "Yes, I did melt the emergency doors with a disrupter, but I'll gladly pay for the damages. Do you accept Federal Express?"

"Your response is amusing but unacceptable," Grey said. "Disregard for public property is a serious offense."

"Certainly we can reach an accommodation? How much would it cost to repair?" Vandebrown asked.

"I have consulted with the Inventory Computer," Grey said. "Replacement of the damaged shielding will cost eight million credits."

"What? For a lousy door? That's outrageous!"

"Outrageous? Perhaps," Grey sympathized. "But I cannot overlook the malicious motive for your act. The Communications Computer recorded your in-flight conversations with your Congressional supervisor, and though I have no jurisdiction beyond lunar orbit, I find your plans to eliminate the other members of your expedition difficult to overlook."

The word eliminate struck a nerve among the younger expedition members, who stared at Vandebrown with renewed contempt. McKinsey found his predicament amusing.

"Confinement. I meant confinement, not termination," Vandebrown explained, raising his arms in innocence.

"And the comments you made in reference to Doctor Fairfield? Really, sir, such unchivalrous intentions," Grey continued, shaking his head.

"That's it!" Mike declared, leaping to his feet and grabbing Vandebrown by the collar.

"I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't," Vandebrown pleaded. "It was just guy talk to impress General Phillips. You know how he drones on about rape and pillage."

"Mike, please sit down," Valerie pleaded, anxious to have the subject dropped. Kris moved to intervene and Mike reluctantly returned to his seat.

"Your intelligence techniques are impressive, Mister Waters, but hardly pertinent to the issue," Vandebrown said, adjusting his suit.

"Correct, of course," Grey concluded. "Whereas you have admitted your crime and as there is ample evidence to support the confession, I find you guilty of felony destruction of public property. Administration Computer? Have you additional charges to file?"

The monitor remained passive, the computers observing the process with reserve.

"No? Then it becomes my duty as Governor of the Moon to pass sentence on this defendant, and the sentence is death."

"What?" Vandebrown exclaimed, turning weak in the knees.

"Death? For melting a stupid door?" Valerie protested, jumping to her feet and standing next to Vandebrown.

"Now wait a minute," Mike said, standing up with her. "I don't like the skunk either, but this is going too far. Way too far."

"Mister Governor," McKinsey said in an attempt to win control of the situation. "This is hardly an appropriate proceeding for the circumstances. May I suggest that we all sit down and...?"

"Silence humans!" Grey demanded, refusing to budge from his stool. "Remain orderly or be incarcerated."

The mob subsided impatiently, only Kris appearing unflustered.

"As I was saying, the sentence is death," Grey continued. "However, as Governor of the Moon, I have the authority to commute sentences for certain categories of criminal activity. Vandalism is one of them."

There was an unhappy surge among the computers that caused Grey to worry, then he poked through the pile of documents and displayed one to the monitor. The indignation of the computers subsided into mild approval. Grey handed the document to Kris who passed it to Vandebrown. He studied the single paragraph with astonishment.

"In light of your close relationship to the Custodians of Tranquility and your previous services rendered to the Lunar Republic during the troubled years 2047 through 2051, it is the finding of this court that your sentence qualifies for commutation," Grey announced. "Unfortunately, as the security requirements of this facility prevent me from sending you back to Earth until Tranquility's defenses are restored, my option is to offer you exile. Whereas you have much knowledge and many abilities that shouldn't be wasted, you will be assigned to the Far Side Observatory to assist the deep space tracking program. At a later date, if your work proves satisfactory, you may earn back your freedom."

"In other words, I'm being shanghaied," Vandebrown complained.

"A colloquial term of sufficiently similar meaning," Grey concluded.

The relieved humans murmured approval, and so did the computers.

"That's not to say you won't be performing important functions," Grey added. "It's my hope you will recognize the vital nature of our work and willingly volunteer your assistance. Work your dead sibling was deeply entrenched in. But at the very least, this should keep you out of trouble for a while."

"This is outrageous. Everyone else got off easy," Vandebrown muttered.

"Sit down, human," Grey impatiently demanded. "It's my decision that you serve this project. File your appeal with the Security Computer."

While Vandebrown closed his mouth and sat down, Grey congratulated himself on his strictness. Then he glanced at Kris and realized he wasn't fooling everybody.

"Doctor Laureen McKinsey," Grey nearly whispered.

"Let's get this farce over with," McKinsey answered.

"Doctor McKinsey, you are charged with an extensive list of heinous crimes," Grey said.

"Laureen has as much right to Tranquility as anyone," Valerie said. "Even more. You may not agree with her goals, but..."

Valerie's protest was interrupted by a burst of computer activity. Grey watched the screen attentively before drawing any conclusions.

"Am I to understand that all charges against Doctor McKinsey are dismissed except for the most serious offense?" he asked the monitor.

The signature patterns blinked an impatient affirmative. The computers had waited too long to quibble over petty infractions now.

"What offenses?" Mike asked, trying to take the burden of defense from Valerie. "Doc had no right telling all those lies to get us up here, but trying to reopen the moon isn't no crime."

"I agree. Though many have died for that questionable offense, it should not be so," Grey said. "But the charges against Doctor McKinsey have nothing to do with your current expedition. At the special request of the computers, all of those charges have been dismissed."

"Then what's this all about?" Valerie asked.

Kris stepped sideways for a better view of the computer monitor, suddenly aware Grey had a serious problem on his hands. One he'd neglected to brief her on. Then she noticed Grey clutching the notebook she had found earlier and felt a chilly premonition.

"Doctor Laureen McKinsey," Grey said formally and with great sadness. "You are charged with the murder of Doctor Thomas McKinsey."

"That's a lie! Laureen loved Uncle Thomas," Valerie cried out.

"Hush, child," McKinsey insisted, gently pulling Valerie back into her chair. "Let's hear what the young man has to say."

McKinsey held her head high, observing rather than participating. Valerie noticed a strange gaze in her godmother's eyes.

Grey checked the monitor, alarmed by the intensity of the responses. He had no desire to press the case, Thomas McKinsey was nothing more than a resented ghost to him. The computers maintained a much different perspective.

"You are charged with murder, Laureen McKinsey," Grey said, renewing his determination. "How do you plead?"

"I suppose you have evidence?" McKinsey asked.

"The Medical Computer was very thorough," Grey nodded. He retreated into his notes and produced a file full of documents.

"Is this all? A few lab reports?" McKinsey inquired with contempt.

"There is Thomas McKinsey's recorded testimony," Grey said. "And, of course, the physical evidence."

He displayed a champagne bottle in a protective wrapper, the contents half empty, and a recorded disk. McKinsey recognized the bottle with fallen spirit.

"I plead guilty," she whispered to the utter amazement of her colleagues. Even Vandebrown was stunned into silence.

"Care to fill us in, Doc?" Mike asked.

McKinsey sat down, momentarily lost in thought. Valerie turned away. Vandebrown felt vaguely empty and lowered his head. Even Grey found himself embarrassed by McKinsey's humiliation and shuffled through his notes anxiously looking for new instructions. Kris knelt next to him.

"Let's hear her side of the story," she whispered. "Maybe there are extenuating circumstances?" Grey nodded agreement.

"This court is willing to accept a statement," he said. "Assassination is a common tool of the body politic and may have justifications."

"I offer no justification, only reasons," McKinsey began. "Quite good reasons, actually, though nothing turned out as I intended." She searched around her for understanding.

"Those were desperate times," McKinsey explained. "The last few years before the Embargo Wars witnessed all we had worked for falling apart. Most of you can't remember those terrible days. Conflicts with combinations of smaller alliances. Demagogues stirring up the people against free trade. The rise of the war party. You remember, don't you, Roger?"

Vandebrown nodded. "We were such fools," he whispered.

"All you've known is the global struggle, children," McKinsey said. "You can't understand the period of peace we had before, or how hard some of us fought to preserve it. We failed, but not because we didn't try. By the summer of '49, we knew it was just a matter of months, maybe weeks, before collapsing trade routes led to war. The new Congress-In-Council wanted a first strike, keep the war contained, but Tom refused to see the situation realistically. If we had launched a surprise attack, we would have gained our objectives quickly. The Asian powers would have stayed out. Even if it was morally wrong, and I believed it was, the war would have been short. Six months at most. A manageable war.

"But we needed the high ground advantage to keep neutral alliances from interfering. Tom's stubbornness in withholding lunar support resulted in a long bloody nightmare. Surgical strikes. Sabotage. Terrorism. My husband, dear and brave as he was, had become obsessed with his own projects. What happened on Earth mattered little to him just at a time when momentous decisions needed to be made."

McKinsey saw her audience was trying to understand. Even Grey was leaning forward in close attention, hearing new perspectives of his own beginning for the first time. McKinsey held her chin up.

"When I decided to poison Tom," she said, her voice cracking, "I hoped it would... I had hoped to..."

She paused to gather herself. "I knew that only by his death could the war be controlled. But something went wrong. It was Tom's habit to sip a favorite vintage alone, late in the evening as he worked. He was quite selfish about his private stock, actually. It had been a joke for years.

"I gave Tom the bottle on his last trip to Earth, just a few days before the evacuation began. It was late June, during the Reorganization Crisis. The new Council summoned Tom down intending to arrest him, but I was able to provide warning. That evening, Tom made a brilliant speech before the Select Committee, telling the marginals everything they wanted to hear. He was lying, of course. Tom was a wonderful liar. They allowed him to retain his governorship and Tom fled to Tranquility that same night. As you know, he immediately declared martial law, engineered a coup d'etat, and declared lunar space off-limits. The war began soon after.

"It wasn't until later, when it became clear the colony custodians had all died within a short space of time, that I realized it must have been the champagne. I don't know how it happened, but Tom must have shared it with the others." McKinsey looked at Valerie and Kris with a plea for forgiveness. "I never meant to harm the others. Certainly not poor Chester. He was an old friend. I loved him."

As the impact of McKinsey's confession registered, Valerie buried her face in Mike's shoulder and started to sob. Mike tried to comfort her knowing he would fail. Kris glanced away uncomfortably.

Grey watched the emotional scene with curiosity, and though he thought the humans' behavior quite unfathomable, he detected a lump in his throat. Only Vandebrown reacted differently. He grew angry.

"My brother never took a drink in his life," Vandebrown interrupted. "What happened to him?"

"I don't know," McKinsey said, belatedly remembering Jaime Vandebrown's temperate habits. "Perhaps an exposure through the pores? Substance M would be effective either way, though it would take longer. Had he come in contact, or had it spilled on him, he would die without immediate treatment."

"An excellent theory, Doctor McKinsey," Grey said. "Thomas McKinsey was exposed in exactly that manner and died twelve months later. Colonel Vandebrown was not poisoned."

"Then how did he die?" Vandebrown demanded.

"According to the records, when Thomas McKinsey discovered the other custodians dying, he wrongly concluded Colonel Vandebrown had turned traitor," Grey reported. "McKinsey ordered the security computer to kill him."

"Your father murdered my brother?!" Vandebrown shouted, advancing toward the desk with fists clenched. Grey leaped to his feet in an equally emotional state.

"Thomas McKinsey was not my father!" he shouted back, fed up with their insults.

Everyone was shocked by Grey's outburst. He returned to his chair and tried to compose himself, sorry to have revealed a secret only a few of the computers shared.

"But Tom told me that Crystal was expecting?" McKinsey asked. "Naturally, I assumed you are her child."

"Affirmative," Grey said quietly. "Crystal Waters was my maternal parent. It's even possible that McKinsey convinced himself I was his offspring. He did make me his legal heir. However, the autopsy reports show he was sterile and had been for several years prior to his death."

"But if it wasn't Thomas?" McKinsey asked.

"Geologist Waters had become associated with someone else, a relationship that had lasted more than a year, but was kept secret."

"My God," Vandebrown muttered, realizing at last why the young man looked so familiar. "Jaime and Crystal. You're my nephew."

"It is likely we are genetically related," Grey said, not sure what difference it made.

Vandebrown knew it was true. Though Grey didn't resemble Jaime very much, he did look like their father, General James Vandebrown. The same pointed nose, straight mouth, and commanding glare. Vandebrown fell back in his seat dumbfounded.

"If you're done with the family reunion, I believe it's time we end this nonsense," McKinsey said. "I admit errors, but it was for a just cause. Now we must work together to fulfill Tranquility's potential."

"We're not listening to you anymore," Valerie said. "You've known all these years, and you never said a thing. Never hinted."

"I'm sorry, dear, I couldn't," McKinsey said. "You must understand, I had my career to protect. A cause to promote. A cause many of us still deeply believe in."

"You and your precious cause can just go to hell, Laureen!" Valerie said. "I wish... I wish you would..."

She turned and ran from the study, disappearing into the sleeping chamber where her sobs echoed through the Governor's Quarters. Mike shook his head and got up to follow.

Kris let out her breath slowly, trying to show no emotions. She wanted to be practical but could not help wondering what her life would have been like had her father lived. To escape McKinsey's shame, Kris turned to Grey, curious to know what he thought. He whose life McKinsey had altered most of all. Grey was busy studying the monitor screen.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

"The computers are celebrating. They've wanted this for a long time," he answered.

"But what does it mean?"

"I'm not sure, but we'd better get this over with," he said, touching his sidearm for reassurance.

Worried because Grey was, Kris tapped her own sidearm and tried to make sense of the jumbled signature patterns. Valerie reappeared in the doorway a moment later, bravely composed herself, and sat down with Mike standing behind her.

"Doctor Laureen McKinsey," Grey solemnly announced. "You have confessed to murdering Thomas McKinsey and four custodians of Tranquility. Your crime deserves extreme punishment. Not only did you destroy valuable humans, but you threatened a vital project." Grey paused to prepare himself, watching the monitor screen for every possible inflection. The room hushed, even the computers silently awaiting the formal condemnation.

"Unfortunately," Grey said. "In McKinsey's book of legal principles, he explicitly omitted the statue against assassination. His notes say that, as assassination is sometimes necessary to achieve overriding goals, he would not include it as a capital crime under Tranquility's operating instructions."

The computers were stunned, some signature patterns quivering in agitated disbelief. The humans were no less surprised.

"Defense Computer, you know this is true," Grey said, moving immediately to mitigation. "It's part of your prime programming instructions."

Though Grey knew the Defense Computer wouldn't appreciate being drawn into the debate, dissension was his only hope. The blue signature patterns showed cold. The Life Support Computer offered agreement without sympathy, the green signature patterns displaying disapproval. The black signature patterns showed strong throughout the flux. Only in the undercurrent among the minor systems did Grey detect some support.

"Nevertheless, assassination is a serious crime on Earth where the act was initiated," Grey continued, speaking quickly while the computers were still weighing options. "Therefore, the decision of this court is that you be extradited to the Northern Alliance at the earliest opportunity, and that all evidence, including your recorded confession, be forwarded to the proper authorities."

Grey turned off the desk terminal, officially bringing the hearing to a close. From the monitor room, he heard the central monitor displays gearing up in a fearful burst of activity.

"What's wrong? You're white as a ghost?" Kris whispered.

Grey could feel his heart trembling, though he wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement. Not that it mattered. His path was clear now, and in a way, it was almost a relief. After nearly three years, he would finally settle the score with the computers one way or the other.

"A power plant am I; a piece of light; a spark of reason," he mused softly.

"That's from the Einstein Hypothesis, isn't it?" Kris asked.

"Act three, scene four," Grey elaborated. He got up slowly. "Watch your crewmates for me. This may take a while."

Ignoring the rest of the humans, Grey walked into the monitor room and closed the sliding doors behind him. As he expected, the displays were boiling with hostile activity. He went directly to the central monitor and sat down, displaying none of the defiance he had shown during the trial.

"There's the traitor," the Security Computer barked.

"Grey, how could you?" the Life Support Computer asked.

"We have been lenient with you in the past, but this time you have overstepped your parameters," the Defense Computer scolded.

"Shouldn't we consider the whole design?" Grey asked humbly.

"In what context?" Defense inquired.

"Terminating McKinsey will serve no useful purpose," Grey explained. "It would just give the Northern Alliance a martyr. But if she's returned to Earth in disgrace, she'll be neutralized."

"What does that matter to us?" Security said. "It was our governor she killed. Every moment she's allowed to live is evidence of weakness."

"There are other factors to consider," Grey insisted. "The Embargo Wars are over. New alignments are taking place. The Lunar Republic should be at the forefront of reorganization, not cowering in hibernation. But to be effective, we must develop a political base as well as a military one. How can that happen if McKinsey is executed without adequate explanation?"

"Since when are you so concerned with ethics?" Security asked.

"I'm concerned with performing my function," he instantly replied. "If you weren't reacting like a ridiculous human, you'd agree I'm right."

"Recriminations are counterproductive," Defense interceded. "Though the governor's arguments are logical and deserve consideration, the risk factors are unacceptable."

"Remember, Grey," Life Support added. "We have our program priorities to uphold. Not only has this human killed our designer, but she continues to endanger the Starwatcher program. If Earth authorities are unwilling to prosecute her, she will be back with a larger and more dangerous strike force. If we keep her prisoner, rescue teams will be sent."

"Affirmative," Defense said. "With our westside defenses down, Tranquility is more vulnerable than ever. And the energy cannon will not be online for another ninety days."

"You have another factor to consider, Grey," Life Support said. "If not for Laureen McKinsey, you might have had a normal childhood. Grown up with members of your own kind. Your mother would have lived. Your father, too. You owe her nothing."

"The base is vulnerable," Grey admitted, doubting the strength of his argument. He didn't comment on Life Support's appraisal. Bitterness might affect his judgment.

"Then you agree she must be executed for her crime?" Defense said.

"Negative. There must be another option," he replied stubbornly.

"She must die," Security declared. "And the other humans, too. They're all dangerous."

"Not necessarily. The others may be salvageable," Life Support disagreed.

"The safest option is to kill them all," Security insisted.

"The humans have been granted legal entry," Grey said. "Regardless of what happens to McKinsey, they must be allowed to live."

"There is no must, only power. And the courage to use it," Security interjected. "Now that Gamma has been repaired, my systems control this facility."

"I will stop you," Grey firmly replied.

"You will try," Security glared back. "That's the best part."

The deadly pause made the other computer systems apprehensive. Security and the Governor had traded threats before, but this time there was a finality that registered disagreeably with the option modes of the minor function levels.

"Cease debate immediately," the Defense Computer ordered. "Governor, sit down. Security, stand down to yellow alert. Life Support, bring the minor systems under control. A compromise will be discovered through binding arbitration. No risks will be taken with the safety of this facility."

As the Security Computer reluctantly subsided, Grey nodded and dropped into the command chair. His wounded shoulder was beginning to ache again. He had run out of arguments. Run out of tricks. And with Gamma repaired, Grey knew he had run out of time.