The Way Back

Chapter 1“Derra Chand?” Stanten said to the young man waiting near the security check for the city jail building, recognising him from a picture he’d included in his credentials. The Harriet Tubman had arrived at Patran a few hours ago and Stanten had checked on the status of the outbid the government ploy. That hadn’t worked, so while Razz fumed quietly on the shuttle ride down, Stanten put plan B into effect. She’d found a lawyer for Javi with remarkable speed. “Captain Stanten, Mr Jensen?” He offered his hand. “Yes, I’m Derra Chand.” It was an Ixellan name and Stanten looked at him with some interest. Rather a similar looking guy to Javi himself, though a decade older. The Ixellans seemed to have an endless supply of short dark men and women who fizzed with pent up energy. An Ixellan lawyer. Surely not a common thing, given the money it would take to study for the degrees, to get the licences. “I’m delighted to meet you,” Chand said. “I wanted to take on Mr Barasa’s case pro bono, but the authorities wouldn’t allow it.” He waved a hand. “Down to an obscure point in the legal code. I think they didn’t want anyone making a cause out of it.” “Even though they intend to do the same thing in the other direction,” Razz said. “Quite. But once you retained me, with a fee, they couldn’t prevent me. Um, I’m afraid they’ll only let two of us in at a time. I’ve tried to argue before that as a lawyer I don’t count as a visitor, but they didn’t buy it.” “Okay. Razz,” Stanten said, taking him aside for a moment. “I know you and Javi need to have a…conversation. But maybe this isn’t the best time, or the best venue. Wait for me here and I promise, next time you get a turn.” “I guess you’ll keep a cooler head and make it all about the case,” he said, though looking torn up about it. “And I guess that’s what’s needed.” “I think so. I’ll pass on your…regards. But I’m not kissing him for you.” She smiled, trying to shake him from his gloom. “Not sure I’d be allowed to do that either,” he said, still grim faced. “There were some harsh words.” He shook himself. “Never mind. Like you say, not the time or place.” “Okay. Don’t wait for me. Go help Tasha and Mula with buying supplies, then you can all have lunch. We’re on Arien’s dime, so treat yourself. Eat a carb.” That did elicit a small smile and then he turned and left. Stanten re-joined Chand, who didn’t ask any rude questions, though she could see that went contrary to his inclinations as a lawyer. They approached the security checkpoint. It took over an hour to go through the checks and searches, before they were finally taken into a small visiting room. It had a table and three chairs, all made of clear plastic, and nothing else except the hidden cameras. In a moment the door opposite them opened and a guard came in, with Javi. Only one guard, but the guy was a lot bigger than Javi, and Javi’s wrists were restrained. The guard didn’t haul him about or anything. Stanten rose as Javi cried, “Captain!” His face split into a big grin. He looked like he wanted to run over to her, but the guard put a hand on his shoulder and first removed the restraints at his wrist, while giving him a spiel about what he was and wasn’t allowed to do in the visitor room. Which apparently included passing contraband or engaging in any form of s****l activity. A good thing Stanten didn’t have any of that planned then. Javi nodded along, said he understood, and the guard left. Now Javi did run to Stanten and they hugged. She pushed him back after a moment and he scrubbed tears off his face. Tears of relief and joy, she hoped. “Is Razz here?” he asked. “Yes, but only two visitors at a time are allowed,” Stanten said. “He’ll come next time, and every time after unless I particularly need to see you. It is good to see you, lad.” She looked him over carefully, for any obvious, or not so obvious signs of abuse or ill-treatment. No bruises or cuts, though his eyes were dark-circled. They hadn’t cut his hair off. He was paler than before, but only the pallor common to prisoners and spacers. He’d felt substantial enough when they hugged. He’d fattened up on Stel’s food, since he first came aboard the Harriet, and he’d lost some of that weight, but he was no thinner than when she’d first met him. His muscles felt harder. If he was thin, it was more muscular leanness than before. She sat and he did too, still chattering, as if he had a million things to tell her. He probably did, but they should wait for a moment. She raised a hand to shush him. “Javi, I’m delighted to see you too, but we have limited time. This gentleman is Derra Chand, your new lawyer.” Chand offered Javi his hand and explained that Stanten had retained him. Javi glanced at her. “Being paid for by a mutual friend,” Stanten explained, knowing he’d understand who she meant. She could have said Arien’s name. The rules didn’t allow the rooms to be monitored for sound when a lawyer was present with their client. But Stanten didn’t have a PhD in Advanced Paranoia for nothing, so she remained cautious about revealing the source of funding for Javi’s defence, in case it leaked out and was used against either Javi or Arien. “Are you from the Chand family that lived in the West Quarter?” Javi asked. “Ran most of the West Quarter, in fact.” “That’s my family, yes.” “Ran?” Stanten said. “Like a gang?” “Certainly not,” Chand said. “One of my grandmothers was Admiral Chand of the Legion, and one of the first organisers of the refugee camp. No section of the camp had better order and discipline than the West Quarter.” Oh, he’s another one like Queza, Stanten thought briefly. “Sort of like a gang though,” Javi said. “Just didn’t run all the criminal stuff.” “No, we ran the criminals off.” “Into the other quarters, who maybe weren’t so lucky in who they had policing those areas.” “Okay, let’s move on,” Stanten said, hearing the heat picking up in the exchange. This wasn’t the place for a social sciences discussion. Or for getting into an argument with your own damn lawyer. The two men leaned back in their chairs, disengaging the argument. Stanten made a mental note to look up what beef there might be between the West Quarter and wherever in the old camp Javi hailed from. Just because they were both Ixellans didn’t mean there weren’t factions. They’d had, what, seventy years to work on dividing themselves up. Most people could manage it a lot quicker than that, but she’d give the first generation Ixellans the benefit of the doubt, to account for their military discipline. Maybe it had taken them as much as a year. She wondered how things were going in the new town they’d been relocated to, presumably without regard to the old districts and tribes they’d made for themselves. “Javi,” Chand said, “We need to talk about the night of the mass eviction.” “Liquidation,” Stanten said. “The word you want is liquidation.” Chand nodded, thoughtful and made a note. “Good point, Captain. I’ve looked at the account you gave the court appointed lawyer. And there’s something missing from that account, isn’t there?” “Missing?” He looked as innocent as he could manage—not very. “Someone,” Chand said. “I’ve seen the unedited footage. I don’t think your previous lawyer had.” “Oh,” Javi said. “I…kind of wanted to keep her out of this. I didn’t want to bring the attention of the authorities to her.” “I’m not the authorities,” Chand said. Javi, who had looked away, looked back at him, a dubious glance. Chand thought he was a rebel, no doubt, standing up for Ixellans against the oppressive system. But to a boy like Javi he must be close to indistinguishable from those oppressors, Stanten figured. More than once in her military career she’d spoken to soldiers facing court martial who seemed to have little faith in their defence lawyer. Because in the end, a JAG officer was still just another officer. “Javi,” Chand said, “I think I know who it is. Can you confirm it was Mrs Zhintaq, who ran the North Quarter school you attended?” Javi looked down, spoke quietly. “Yes. It was her.” “What will she be able to tell me if I talk to her?” Chand asked. “I…guess that I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. That I was only defending her, defending the school.” Chand nodded, scribbling notes. “I’ll take a deposition from her. There’s a good chance I’ll call her as a witness at the trial.” Javi looked up, stared, but nodded after a moment, accepting the inevitable. “I suppose you have to.” “Getting someone to back up your word about your motivations can only help you,” Chand said. “And don’t worry about Mrs Zhintaq. From what I recall hearing about that lady, she has stood up to a lot worse than a cross examination by a state prosecutor.” Javi smiled weakly. “That’s true. The gangs used to try to close the school down all the time. They’ve never made it happen yet.” “She’s well respected and her word will carry weight,” Chand said. “She must know you well.” “Yeah. After my mom died and I stopped going to the school she came and found me and persuaded me to keep going. Otherwise I might have…Look, I might not have become a lawyer, but I didn’t become a criminal, aside from…I didn’t join a gang, and once my mom was gone, Mrs Zhintaq was the main reason for that.” “That’s good. I’ll make sure the jury knows it. Now, let’s go through that night step by step.” It took an hour to go over the details of that night, and afterwards Stanten moved her chair to beside Javi’s and put her arm around his shoulder, as he wept. Chand made some final notes, while Javi sat with his head in his hands. Stanten leaned close, rubbed his back. Javi gave a mumbled apology. “It’s okay, kid,” she said. “It’s hard to relive. I know.” And he’d have to do it again at the trial, under much more hostile questioning. But they’d work on preparing him for that. “I…I’m glad Razz isn’t here to see me talk about it,” he said. “I’m so ashamed.” “Razz knows you didn’t intend to hurt anyone. He’ll understand. He’s a soldier, Javi. Me too. We both understand what it feels like to go through this…regret.” “Bet you and him don’t cry about it.” He wiped his face, with a wry, sad smile. “Don’t put any money on that one, because I don’t want to take your money.” “Money isn’t doing me much good in jail.” He sighed. “But at least I don’t have any expenses. Not even my lawyer, thanks to…” He spoke more quietly. “Our friend. Are they okay?” “They’re…okay,” Stanten said. “A lot of political s**t still going on.” “And General Queza? I feel so bad that after her guy helped me get away, I walked into those bounty hunters like a chump.” Stanten had leaned back as Javi had started to calm down and talk more normally. She froze, leaned close again. “Helped you get away?” “Yeah, her guy, what’s his face? The one who gave me the coat. I miss that coat. Frenz, I think he’s called. He told me the general had told him to look out for me while she was gone. He got me away on a transport.” “Javi, please clarify. One of the general’s people got you onto a transport off the habitat? You think he was named Frenz?” “That’s right.” Stanten scowled, but didn’t say anything to Javi. What in the hell? According to the report, the officer called Frenz hadn’t been able to find Javi. Had certainly not helped him escape. Unless he had, and had lied to Arien in his report. Had delivered him up to the bounty hunters. But why? Unless he was acting on orders of the general? What the hell was Queza up to?