Path of Sorrow Part Three

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Path of Sorrow Part Three

Continued from Part Two - B.


Part Three

Blair's anxiety was strong, but an observer would never have guessed that the young man seated in the defendant's chair, eyes fixed firmly on the holo of the judge, was anything else but attentive to her words.

She concluded her remarks about how the trial would proceed and asked the court recorder, a black-haired man who managed to look both bored and disdainful, to begin the verification procedure. Blair was summoned to the man's station at the side of the room, and a skimmer, which alternated between a male and female voice, read his code and announced his name and parentage for the official record.

The prosecutor asked for the recording to stop after his maternal parentage had been accepted into the record, when the cool female voice of the skimmer stated that there was no paternal records available.

“Excuse me, Your Reverence, I would just like to clarify for the record that Blair Sandburg is indeed a bastard, and that no male member of any class has acknowledged that he holds their DNA. As you know, most unfortunates placed into the bastard class do at least know their parentage, but in this case we do not even have a listing of his paternal heritage, even if unclaimed by that parent.”

That son-of-a-space-whore. He was trying to discredit Blair to the judge before any actual evidence was even brought up. Like it was Blair's fault that his mother hadn't taken legal means to secure DNA testing and gain child support, and at least a naming from Blair's male parent. Unless the father had claimed Blair for his legal son, like Naomi had done as his mother, Blair would have still been placed into the bastard class, but even within that group not knowing who your parents were made you more of an outcast.

Blair's lawyer didn't object though. Great. Just what I had feared: she wasn't going to put forth much, if any, effort to win Blair's case.

However, the judge was having none of it. She looked about ninety years old and probably had been a practicing judge for fifty years. She'd probably heard every slick lawyer trick in the book by now.

“The defendant's status is noted by this court and does not require any special explanations. I do not approve of wasting the court's time on theatrics, and the prosecution will do well to remember this.” She gave the prosecutor - the Honorable John Delmore, according to his introduction to the court earlier - a stern and lengthy stare. He raised his hands a little in surrender, and sat back down.

The judge looked as if she was really there in the room designated for court proceedings on the Pride of Cascade, but I could have walked right through her. The holo emitters in the room were also sending holo copies of everyone deemed necessary to the trial back to where she was in Cascade. If Blair was found guilty then he would have a sentencing date a few days later, in order to allow a placement to be finalized. Then he would be mind-wiped and sent to whatever huge business or factory-farm had gotten his contract from the Department of Justice. Business as usual, and the judge probably wouldn't even remember his face by next week.

There is a ritual , a flow, to a court trial. In other circumstances Blair probably would have been fascinated by it, and I would have been entertained by his analysis and comparison to other styles of judgment and punishment he'd studied.

At the present time, though, he was concentrating on taking deep breaths, slowly releasing them, and striving to keep his anxiety from overtaking him.

The first testimony was factual. The holo deposition of Doctor Cooper, the specialist who had administered the truth-test, was played and entered into the court records. Then Doctor Mako, the infirmary doctor who treated Blair, was called up to answer any further questions.

He confirmed the specialist's deposition. “The patient, Mr. Sandburg, had strong cascading seizures after the second medication was administered. For his health, the procedure was stopped and he was treated for the seizures. Seizures are rare, but they can be a side effect of the medications used if the patient has an allergic reaction to them.”

Maguire had nothing to ask the doctor, but Delmore asked him to identify who paid for the truth-test, since it hadn't been ordered by the protectors.

“Doctor Cooper told me that Detective Ellison paid for his time and the cost of the procedure, even though it was ineffectual.”

Blair turned in his seat and stared at me, his expression mystified, and I felt his confusion. Then the baffled look cleared, and I saw him nod grimly. The little idiot. From the shift in his mood to angry and knowing, I knew he thought I'd been looking for more evidence against him, probably since he hadn't named his New Rainier contacts.

I sent back a strong message to him that he was dead wrong. He responded by blocking me out to only a trickle. Good trick. He must have been practicing how to do that, his burgeoning skills as a shaman most likely aiding him.

Before Doctor Mako's testimony was concluded, the judge asked him to explain the purpose of the collar around the defendant's neck.

“Mr. Sandburg is on suicide watch, and since he is able to control his body's autonomic responses while in a deep meditative state, that collar prevents his brain from engaging in Theta waves, so that he cannot try again to stop his breathing and his heart from beating.”

He gave Blair a sympathetic look before he was dismissed. He would have to perform the mind-wipe on Blair if he was found guilty, and I thought, from how he'd handled Blair after his seizures, that he'd become fond of him.

The prosecution presented its case first, and Delmore laid out the evidence, starting with the pattern of Yana distribution on the street that matched Blair's trips to New Rainier, then the holo-deposition of the witness who'd identified Blair as entering a known Yana dealer's residence was entered as evidence.

Then I was called up to the witness chair, and I responded to Delmore's questions, testifying that I'd been assigned to investigate Sandburg and had used an undercover identify to closely observe my suspect. I ended my remarks with explaining how I'd arrested Blair on his ship, the course set for New Rainier, and that it had hidden holds that had contained Yana plants.

The prosecutor treated me as a hostile witness, and kept the questions simple, deftly avoiding any areas where I could explain things that would favor Blair's story.

His lawyer would have to do that, and if she didn't ask me the right questions, like Mickey would have done, then I'd have to break court protocol and ask to address the judge directly.

I'd probably get slapped with a contempt of court citation and a fine, but it would be worth it to have the judge consider more favorable evidence.

Blair's feelings of betrayal and hurt had zoomed up when I took the stand. He felt so devastated to me, and I had to marvel at what an actor he was because none of that was recognizable on his face, except for a slow closing of his eyelids and the way his fist tightened on his thigh as he sat exposed in the defendant's chair.

The judge asked, “PD Maguire, do you have any questions for Detective Ellison, before he is released from court?”

“Yes, Your Reverence,” she replied, and then she asked me about everything that could back up Blair's story. I told the judge about the comm message that Blair had sent giving his location to the protectors and asking for assistance. The recording of the comm message was played for the judge and the technical verification of a match between Sandburg's voice and the voice on the recording was accepted by the court.

Then I described his manner when I entered his bird, how he cooperated with me, how he stated he was relieved to see me, that he was grateful I had come to rescue him. I related the story he had told me, and explained to the judge that a sweep had revealed that fourteen different people had left DNA samples behind on that ship. I could not, however, match any of these samples to the names Sandburg had given me, Chance, Iris, and Rob. There was a man named Rob Johnson who had a residence and mechanic shop on Quyllur. Blair had identified his holo as the Rob who had forced him to transport the Yana plants.

But Delmore's rebuttal questions established that no DNA belonging to Rob Johnson was found at the man's shop, so there was only Blair's word that it was the same man.

Actually, only one DNA sample harvested from Blair's spaceship had been located in the criminal DNA database, and that man had been deceased for three years.

A wave of sadness hit me from Blair when the man's name and death was identified for the court records; he'd been the boxer Blair had been friends with, lovers even, some sources had said.

Possibly we could have found matches if we'd had access to the government databases that held every person in the New Rainier Hundred Worlds genetic coding, their ancestry, and class standing. But there were very strict laws that protected that information from being released, including not allowing fishing expeditions to match DNA to crimes. The only database allowed for that purpose was the Criminal DNA one, and those three had managed to avoid being tagged for it.

I was asked by Maguire about the three's physical descriptions, and the portraits done by the sketch artist based on Blair's descriptions that showed how much Chance resembled Blair. I pointed out that the two men were similar enough to confuse the eye witness who had identified Blair's holo as the man who'd entered the Yana distributor's dwelling.

Delmore objected to that, stating that since it was Blair who'd given the description, the source could not be trusted. The judge agreed, and the sketches were refused as evidence.

Then Delmore, now that Maguire had finished with me, proceeded to tear down everything I'd built up in Blair's defense. He proposed that Blair had attempted to lay a false trail for the protectors to follow, knowing that he was under surveillance, and that the only reason he'd actually been in the area he'd commed from was that his bird, old, unreliable, frequently in need of repair, had once again refused to fly correctly, stranding him at a slow rate of speed with his destination locked in to New Rainier.

He dismissed the idea that Blair had been forced to accompany the three who'd kidnapped him and stolen his bird. His version was that Blair, if indeed the three existed, was partnered with them, and that his throwing the blame on them was his desperate attempt to deflect it from himself, after a falling out among thieves.

And then he got personal. He asked about the nature of the surveillance, and he managed to insinuate that I'd become close to Sandburg without actually coming out and saying I'd been fucking him while undercover. I wished he had, because that I could deny outright. But what he did was cast a shadow over my testimony, leaving the strong impression that I'd become biased. He didn't ask me why I'd paid for Blair's truth-test. Again, I wished he had asked, because then I could respond that I believed him to be innocent of the charges. No, he just asked if I had ever paid for any truth-tests to be done for other suspects I'd arrested.

The answer to that was 'no.' I knew what he was doing, he was implying to the judge that I'd overstepped my boundaries for Blair, that I was compromised because I had inappropriate feelings for him.

It probably worked, too, because the judge frowned at me, and I felt any remaining hope that Blair would be found innocent sinking.

Delmore, damn him, did pretty well with the rest of his smear campaign. He managed to bring out that Blair was casual with his sexual relationships and didn't ask me about his more recent celibacy. It wasn't anything to do with the case, not really, and I kept waiting for Maguire to object.

She didn't. I don't know why I even was surprised that she didn't try and stop him. She personally thought Blair was guilty, after all.

Finally, I was dismissed. There was a short recess, and then Blair took the witness chair.

Blair looked pale, but he was composed as he sat down. Even though I knew he distrusted me, I sent a message of support and care strong enough to make him open back up, for a moment. Surprised, he stared at me, and his expression slipped enough for a glimpse of his true feelings of worry and desolation to show, but he immediately got himself back under control, resuming his formerly blank expression again.

Maguire asked him to explain his actions in his own words, but before Blair began the judge addressed Blair directly.

“Mr. Sandburg, make your remarks brief and concise. The court's time is valuable and this is not the time or place for pleas of leniency.”

Blair responded to her words like a challenge. I could feel the fight in him rise up; his chin lifted a little and he took a deep breath, and I felt him calm himself before he explained how this story had unfolded from his point of view.

He'd been on New Rainier, spending time at the university for his research, which had included bringing back plant samples from Quyllur for lab testing, when Iris had approached him about a ride back to Quyllur.

It had not struck him as odd or suspicious that she had spoken to him, because he always had messages posted in various places on campus inviting fellow students to share his costs for transportation.

Iris, who hadn't offered him her last name -- and he hadn't asked for it -- proposed a barter: transportation for her and her brother to New Rainier and Quyllur whenever Blair needed to make his own trips. Her brother, a ship mechanic who specialized in vintage birds like Blair's, would trade tuneups and fix anything needed for free. She asked that their deal be kept private. Blair agreed, and until he was arrested that was their arrangement.

He stated that he didn't know that his ship's holds had been outfitted with secret smuggling spaces. He assumed Rob had done it during a refit of Blair's ship. He also thought that the plants must have been loaded shortly before they would leave, when his bird was at Rob's shop getting a tuneup. Blair and Iris usually would go and have dinner together, or go to a bar to listen to a band, since they shared similar musical tastes. They'd go their separate ways when they arrived on New Rainier, until it was time for the return trip. He speculated that Rob had given himself a way into the bird without Blair's bio-metrics, the same way he had been able to override Blair's course instructions and control the ship when Chance had kidnapped Blair and stolen his ship and the plants, leaving Iris and Rob behind, locked in Rob's shop.

He described the fight between Iris and the man she called Chance.

“I had just brought my bird into Rob's shop for the usual systems check, and Iris and I were getting ready to go out to dinner - her treat - when Chance came in waving his stunner and got into a screaming match with Iris.”

He began waving his hands a little, getting caught up in his own words.

“The gist of it was that Iris and Chance had broken up, he was angry about her seeing someone else, me, and he was going to get even with her by double-crossing them and stealing the plants and taking them to a new guy who'd pay him more money than their contact on New Rainier. He locked Iris and Rob in a room, made me pack the plants into the ship, and we took off. He needed me along because the controls were keyed to my bio-metrics. But Rob and Iris caught up to us, since it turned out that Rob had installed a tracker beacon, and he also had left himself a backdoor opening to take control of my ship. He hit some kind of kill switch, which stopped my ship cold.”

There was a strong bout of indignation that I felt from him about that. Apparently he hated that Rob had messed with his bird.

“Then when Rob and Iris boarded the ship there was another bout of screaming and yelling; Iris slapped Chance, but they got over what they were mad about and Iris and Chance decided to get back together.”

I watched him start to roll his eyes when he said that, but apparently remembering he was being watched by the judge he aborted it.

“So, while they were discussing which guy to turn the plants over to, I got away and used a pod to leave the ship. I sent the message you heard played in court today, but they discovered I was missing, retrieved my pod, and when they checked my comm they knew I'd contacted the protectors. They transferred most of the plants to Rob's ship, and locked my speed down to a very slow rate and set the course to New Rainier, but he'd blocked me from engaging the roll-through function. And I just don't know enough about temporal mechanics to fix what he'd done. That's when Detective Ellison came on board. He wouldn't listen to me, although I explained what had happened. He didn't even try and search for the real criminals. He just arrested me. Those plants weren't mine; I did not ever engage in trafficking for Yana by supplying the plants needed to make it, or sell the drug itself.”

He looked at me then, reproach and anger clearly etched on his face. The judge asked if his testimony was concluded, and he answered in the affirmative.

Delmore attacked him then. He didn't come right out and say that Blair's motivation to supply Yana was because of his intense desire to move out of the bastard class because, again, a statement like that could be denied. The prosecutor was allowing the judge to read between the lines, and even Blair's academic achievements were tainted by his insinuations. Blair's choice of a Master's degree in Botany was presented by Delmore as giving him the skills needed to find a plant he could transform into a drug and buy his way out of the bastard class.

He tied in the bank account for Free the People from Class Restrictions, which was one of the activist groups Naomi Sandburg was heavily involved with, and showed how funds had been transferred from an account that Blair held to the activist account. A lot of credits had been donated, and while that was not illegal, he brought up the point that Blair, impoverished graduate student, did not have legitimate access to that kind of income.

Blair denied that he'd sent the money, didn't know where the money came from, and emphatically said that somebody had framed him. But he did admit the account was his.

Even his research with the Sho'nakan was slanted to look like he'd been taking advantage of a people unable to defend themselves against the plotting of an intelligent, immoral, sophisticated man like Blair Sandburg.

I thought again of Blair holding Sho'nakan children on his lap, Blair respectfully following the strictures given to him by different shamans, Blair's insistence that the sacred plants be treated with honor.

Blair tried to respond as best he could to defend himself, but the prosecution made a damning case against him. His lawyer, who was acting competently enough that the case could not be appealed based on poor representation, did nothing to change that impression with the one or two questions she did ask Blair.

The judge allowed a short recess and I started to cross the room to Blair, but the judge instead called me up to the bench, along with a bailiff.

“Detective Ellison, I am imposing a ban on your interactions with Mr. Sandburg. This means you may not speak with him, send him messages in any form, or be in his company. Bailiff, see to it that my restriction is entered into the court's records.”

I felt myself flush, and anger over her actions rose up in me like a tidal wave.

“Your Reverence --” She cut me off.

“You will follow this court order, Detective, or you will be placed into custody for the remainder of this trial and sentencing. Bailiff, see to it that his superior is notified. Detective, this is for your own protection. It is apparent to me that you have compromised your objectivity with this defendant. It's best that your contact be severed now. I will warn you that if you cannot control yourself in my courtroom, you will be removed. Are you clear about your restrictions, Detective Ellison?”

If I railed about this, I'd just get myself ejected and maybe placed into protective custody.

Gritting my teeth, I answered her in the affirmative, and when she dismissed me I returned to my seat, the bailiff's eye upon me.

The judge's holo disappeared from the room, and I sat seething, until Captain Banks called my name from behind me.

I stood up then and turned to face him, and he gave me a severe look.

“Ellison, I've been informed that you're banned from speaking to Sandburg. When the trial is over, if he's found guilty, then you're coming with me, understand. I'm not risking you doing something stupid. And knock off glaring at me. This is for your own good, before you tank your career.” He indicated for me to sit back down, and he landed his own large frame in the chair next to mine.

Fuck. I'd just been saddled with a six foot, five inch babysitter.

Blair had been taken out of the room, maybe for a bathroom break or to get a drink of water. He was too anxious to eat, I could tell.

I didn't bother trying to talk Banks out of hovering over me. I knew the man well enough by now to know it would be futile.

Ten minutes later, the judge's holo appeared back in the room. She sat high up on the dais. The bailiff called for court to resume and for all to rise, and then be reseated.

She banged the gavel that was a relic from ancient times and announced that the defendant was to approach the bench. The bailiff showed Blair where to stand in front of her, where she could stare down at him.

His fists were clenched at his side, and I could feel him steeling himself.

“Blair Sandburg, you stand before this court charged with grievous offenses against the people of the New Rainier Hundred Worlds. After considering the evidence, I find you guilty of all charges. The penalties for your crimes will be given in two day's time, at your sentencing hearing.

“The court orders that you be remanded back into custody, that you remain on suicide watch, and that Detective Ellison's ban against speaking or contacting you remain in effect.”

She studied her slave for a moment and then added, “Ms. Maguire, the defendant's appeal is denied. Court is dismissed.”

Blair was hustled out of the courtroom, and I felt the wave of despair from him hit me so strongly that I doubled over in my chair.

I felt Bank's warm hand on the back of my neck, and when I could lift my head back up, he took my elbow.

“C'mon, Jim. I'm taking you down to Jack's place. And I'm sorry, truly sorry that things turned out this way. C'mon.”

I moved in a haze, not really aware of my surroundings, because I was picturing Blair's cheerful, beautiful face morphing into the blank, dull look that I'd seen on those unlucky enough to be severely mind-wiped. The intelligence would be gone from his eyes, and I wondered if his good nature would remain.

I remained lost in my own thoughts until Banks pushed me down into a porch chair on Jack's shady veranda, and poured me a belt of Agrasa.

“There has to be something I can do, Captain. An appeal to be filed. A continuance to delay sentencing.”

“I asked your lawyer to join us, Jim. But Sandburg's lawyer already asked for an appeal as a matter of routine and it's been turned down. Besides, delaying sentencing is just going to make it harder on the kid. You're going to have to let him go. You've done all that you can do, Jim.”

But I couldn't accept that. So if legal means were barred, well, I'd have to break him out of jail. Tonight, when Banks was asleep, I'd return to the ship and I'd take him and we'd run. We'd go to one of the fringe worlds, and we'd make a life together.

I was so far away, making plans for how to get past the guards and steal a ship, that I didn't notice until too late that Simon had locked my wrist to his.

“Forget it, Jim. You're not very subtle, you know. Why do you think the judge made sure to keep you away from the kid? It's written all over your face how you feel about him. I know you're thinking of ways to break him out, and I can't let you do that. And don't even think about trying to fight me. Jack is on his way down here, too, and between your lawyer, Jack and me, you're not going to do anything stupid.”

He sighed. “Get stinking drunk if you need to, but you're going to have to accept reality. You can't save Sandburg.”

But I couldn't accept that. I couldn't. There had to be a way and I would find it, no matter the cost.

///

Several hours later, I sat slumped in one of the comfortable chairs on the shaded patio at house, Banks keeping me company by sitting close to me in another oversized chair. Well, he didn't really have a choice since we were locked together. Jack kept refilling my glass with the clear blue of Agrasa, and by the sympathy in his eyes I knew he was offering the only solace he thought was left.

“He's not guilty, Jack. I've ruined an innocent man's life.” I lifted the glass and tossed back the drink in one gulp. I hadn't given up on losing my keepers and stealing Blair away from his cell, but to do so Captain Banks and Jack would have to believe that I'd passed out, and hopefully just dump me in a bed. Maybe they wouldn't even cuff me to it. Breaking free of lockers wasn't easy, but I might be able to manage it, and I'd been keeping my eyes open for anything that could spring the lock. Right now, since Banks and I were sharing it, the locker hadn't been set for just my DNA. It was on general mode, and that meant the key to it hadn't been programed with my DNA, either. I could use something else to force the lockers open.

I railed again about the injustice of Blair losing his intelligence and his freedom, and I exaggerated my gestures and slurred my words loudly in order to lull my guardians into thinking I was well on my way to passing out.

Jack shot me another look, and maybe I was falling under the influence of the drink because I felt a warm wave of affection for him and Mickey, and even for Banks, for banding together to be there for me, to help me through this tough time. Then the affection turned into depression, because the only support Blair would receive before he was sentenced was chemical. Jack had told me that the doctor had shot Blair up with something that had made him feel like he hadn't a care in the world. It was just supposed to reduce his anxiety somewhat, but he'd actually become giggly, another atypical drug reaction. The doctor said it wouldn't affect his health so he was letting the drug remain in Blair's system. It was due to wear off shortly before his return to court.

I felt for our connection, and yeah - Blair was feeling mirthful. Well, maybe it was better this way - he might not fight me when I told him we were escaping.

Jack started to tip the bottle to refill my drink again, but Mickey put his hand over the glass.

“Jim, you need to stop drinking right now. I need you sober to have this discussion.”

We all three turned to look at him. Mickey had been quiet since he and Jack had arrived, and he'd been working on his slave while I'd been faking drinking myself into a stupor.

Banks rumbled at him. “Why? I thought that Sandburg's appeal had been denied by the judge even before the courtroom had cleared out. You told us an hour and a half ago that any statutes you've researched won't support throwing the conviction out. Sandburg had his day in court, and frankly, I think he was partly guilty. Maybe he didn't know what the cargo was that he was smuggling for that girl, but my guess is that he knew it was illegal, and he did it anyway. It stunk to the stratosphere that he didn't know that girl's full name, or her parentage. You men know as well as I do that legitimate deals mean full disclosure of names and genealogy and exchanging code information.”

I looked at Jack. “Is that what you think, too? That he cut a deal with Iris and her brother, and it blew up on him?”

Jack looked apologetic, but he nodded. “Yeah, sorry, Jim. I like the kid, but I think he screwed up.”

Banks fumbled a cigar one-handed out of his shirt pocket. Mickey lit it for him and I stayed quiet. After he'd breathed out the aromatic smoke he spoke up again, looking directly at Mickey.

“Don't start raising any false hopes. The judge didn't dismiss any charges, so Sandburg's going to get at least twenty years. Mind-wiping is mandatory for any sentence longer than two years.”

His eyes narrowed as he turned his head and gave me an appraising stare. “You seem to have lost the slur in your voice, Detective. I didn't know you were blessed with the ability to detox alcohol from your body so quickly.”

I changed the subject, fast. “Sir, Mickey had something to tell us, so if you don't care...” I raised my eyebrows at Mickey, signaling him to spill whatever was on his mind.

Mickey looked troubled. “I don't know, Jim. It's an angle, but it's not one you're going to like. Look, I'm not advocating that you agree to it. In fact, from what Jack told me flying down here tonight, I'm pretty sure you won't do it, and that's fine. We'd all understand your reasons and accept them. I'm only bringing it up because you've asked me to find a way, any way to help Sandburg.”

I interrupted. “Mickey, for the love of a higher power, would you quit babbling and just say what you need to say?”

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “All right, I'm going to lay it out for you. Don't shoot the messenger. You told me when I asked about this soul-bond you share with Sandburg, that you were a sentinel and he was a guide. I asked Jack about it, and he confirmed it was true, but that you had been emphatic about not wanting to bond with any guide, including Sandburg. You usually use suppressants, but during the Yana investigation you would at times stop them in order to monitor Sandburg's activities. Is all of this correct, Jim?”

This conversation was sobering me up faster than a cold shower would have done. I nodded, and Mickey went on.

“I've just done a cursory search of the laws pertaining to sentinels and guides. Those laws referring to claiming a guide are archaic, older than our current set of societal laws. As a point of law, this could alter his sentencing.”

I gaped at him, and he rapidly went on.

“If you claim Sandburg as your guide, and we make a case that you began imprinting him while you were off your suppressants, then your claim of him can supersede the usual type of placement. A guide needs his full intelligence to work with a sentinel, so being mind-wiped can be taken off the table. Basically, what I can propose to the judge is that you, a third party, have a legitimate stake in what happens to Sandburg. Even if the judge disagrees, we'd have a reason to appeal and Sandburg's case would be sent up to the appeals court, based not on his own circumstances, but on this point of law. Are you following me on this, Jim? Maybe we should get some kaffee down your throat.”

Jack said, “I'll get a pot going. I need it, even if Jim doesn't.” He pushed his chair back and left the veranda, and I heard him curse as he dropped something in the kitchen.

I said numbly, “In Sandburg's records he's flat out said he doesn't want to be a guide.”

Mickey said gently, “I know, and normally, according to the old ways, the sentinel can claim a guide, but the guide has the right of refusal. However, I think if we are proposing that you claim Sandburg, that due to his conviction he won't get a choice about refusing. Becoming your guide is going to be offered to the court as an alternative to the regular sentencing. The judge might make it mandatory that he serve as your guide for as many years as he would have been given in a more typical placement. In reality, this would be probably be a life sentence for both of you. You are aware of how difficult it is to break a bond after it's been formed, aren't you, Jim?”

I nodded. The changes that occurred after bonding meant that breaking it condemned the sentinel to severe spikes and zones, and for both guide and sentinel, severe depression. Medication might help a little in relieving symptoms, but taking suppressants again wouldn't be possible. Too many changes in the sentinel's bio-chemistry. I had never bothered to find out more than that, since that had been enough to decide me on never bonding in the first place. I didn't know if a second bond could occur, or what happened to sentinels and guides who weren't soul-bonded when their partner died. Could they bond again to a new partner?

Captain Banks spoke up, a firm and no-nonsense tone to his voice. “This is ridiculous. You're asking that Jim reverse a life choice, sentence himself to being co-dependent with this boy for basically the rest of his life. And isn't the bond sexual? He'd be restricted to only having sex with his guide after they bond, right? Sandburg made his bed, now he'll have to lie in it, without dragging Jim into it with him.”

I felt my vision tunnel, heard a rushing in my ears. I felt nauseous, as my stomach tried to turn flip-flops. I'd be sacrificing myself, if I did this. But how could I not do it?

I had saved his life, and my people believed that to do so meant that I was now his Blessed Protector. He was my responsibility. I had forced him to join his soul with mine, and we would have that connection for the rest of our lives. But did I want to live with him as his sentinel? I flashed again on his vibrant manner, the intelligence in his lovely face. I pictured all of that gone, Blair a mindless puppet. Sorrow for him overwhelmed me then, and I made my decision.

I would do it. I would take him, not just his soul, but his body as well. He was going to hate me for the rest of my life, but at least he'd have some sort of a life.

A white noise started to drown out the sound of my friends voicing their opinion of Mickey's suggestion and then Banks laid his large, warm hand on the back of my neck and forced my head down between my knees.

I stayed that way for a long few moments, this position an echo of the one Banks had placed me in following the judge finding Blair guilty.

When I recovered enough, I sat back up and took a deep breath. I caught Banks' eye and held up our joined wrists.

“You can let me go, sir. I swear that I'm not going to run off with Sandburg.”

“But you were planning to, weren't you?”

“Yes, sir. But since I'm going to claim him as my guide, there's no need to do that anymore. Is that kaffee done yet? We've got a lot of details to work out before Blair's sentencing.”

///

Blair had barely regained the ability to concentrate on anything without finding something about it hilarious, before he was brought into the court room for his sentencing. There had been no time for Jack or Simon to tell him of the plan to claim him for my guide, so he was going to hear it cold. But surely he would see it as the better option.

We'd tried to come up with answers to any questions that might come up. Blair would be under my supervision. We both would be under Captain Banks' supervision and Blair would work for Major Interplanetary Crime - for free, as part of his community service. I would be responsible for feeding, sheltering, and providing health care as he would be listed as my dependent.

Captain Banks wasn't thrilled about his part, but he'd offered, saying Sandburg could be an errand boy for the department and do janitorial work, when I didn't need him to help me balance my senses. Banks made it clear to me that Blair was not to have access to any actual protector files. I didn't object; it wasn't the right time to promote Blair's many skills. At the very least, we would have an inside informant on how the underbelly of society worked. I hadn't forgotten how many other marginal types had been reported as having some sort of contact with Blair, from bookies to smugglers. I knew his help was going to be invaluable. I figured that given some time, Banks would see for himself how useful Blair would be.

Doctor Mako had been apprised of what Mickey intended to ask for and he'd agreed to provide medical supervision for the actual bonding process. He had come with Blair to the courtroom and sat quietly in the area provided for courtroom staff.

Mickey had doubted that Sandburg would be released before medical proof of bonding had occurred. I doubted even that proof would be sufficient, and I expected that a bone deep tracking device was going to be ordered implanted in Blair, so that his whereabouts would always be known.

The necessary paperwork to petition the court that I was a necessary party in the decision of the court regarding Blair Sandburg's placement, had been done yesterday. Today, the judge would entertain our arguments, so we had a chance to pull this off.

The bailiff announced the judge's arrival and her holo appeared, resulting in people getting to their feet and performing the customary bow of respect towards her.

She looked disgruntled and addressed the room. “In regards to this sentencing hearing, the petition to allow James Joseph Ellison, a sentinel, to claim Blair Sandburg as his guide as an alternate placement will be heard, but first I will allow the defendant's attorney to make her statement.”

I watched from the corner of my eye as Maguire rose smoothly from from her work table and approached the judge, but mostly I watched Blair's reaction.

His mouth had dropped open as he listened to the judge's remark, and he turned around in his seat to stare at me. His eyes looked huge, and I watched him pinch himself.

I sent as strong a feeling of reassurance as I could to him, and in return I felt his bewilderment and confusion, and a flaring of hope that he quickly flayed apart. Then came a flood of suspicion and anger. Well, I had expected that. Blair and I were overdue for a long talk if this scheme worked. But Mickey was confident that we would at least buy some time for an appeal, if nothing else.

Maguire made her pitch short and sweet: the defendant was a young man with no prior record, he had made efforts to work his way out of the bastard class, his judgment had been impaired by his background, and she asked for the mercy of the court.

The judge responded with a lecture. “The very fact that Mr. Sandburg is more intelligent than most unfortunates of the bastard class, and that he had taken the steps necessary to raise himself in society's eyes requires me to hold him to a strict accounting of his actions. He knew very well what he was doing, and he gambled that he could hide the harm he has done to our society. Those victims who ingested Yana that he helped provide cry out to this court for justice, and I shall answer their pleas. This is the sentence Mr. Sandburg will serve, unless Detective Ellison's change of circumstance petition is granted. The defendant will rise and approach the bench. I will tolerate no outcry; this is a courtroom, not a circus.”

Blair rose and straightened his shoulders and looked her right in the eye. He walked forward with a deliberate calm that I alone know was totally false. I was proud of him and scared for him, and it hit me like a ton of bricks that I was in love with him.

“Provisionally, Blair Sandburg, you are sentenced to twenty-five years of convict labor, you will be mind-wiped and placed with--” she stopped for a moment and checked her information, “Cyclops Industries to complete your community service. The modification will take place directly following this hearing and you will be transported to New Rainier to begin your term of indenture. That is, unless Detective Ellison's petition stays the court's ruling.”

Blair was dismissed, and walked steadily back to his chair. She waved at me and Mickey to approach her. “Attorney Renardo, state your case.”

Mickey laid it all out for her, a clear, concise, absolutely reasonable rendition of why exactly James Joseph Ellison, sentinel, should be awarded one Blair Sandburg, guide. He cited laws from ancient tomes, explained how in the course of the investigation I had imprinted on Sandburg due to ending my suppressant's effectiveness. The judge was informed that I was an adopted member of a Sho'nakan tribe, and that when I'd previously looked for a guide with the help of the tribe's shaman, that the search had been unsuccessful. Sandburg was the one I needed for my guide, and guides weren't interchangeable. He ended his case by explaining the soul-bond that had been established between us.

The judge steepled her fingers together and proceeded to grill me.

“Detective Ellison, I will remind you that you are still under oath from your testimony of two days ago.”

I nodded.

“Has Mr. Sandburg asked to be your guide?”

“No, Your Reverence.”

“Previous attempts to locate a compatible guide have all failed?”

“Yes, Your Reverence. I should clarify that my previous search occurred when I had lost my memories and was abandoned in the jungle on Quyllur. After not taking my suppressants, my senses reverted to their natural state while I was living with the Sho'nakan. In order to save my life the shaman of my tribe helped me look for a suitable guide. Several were offered, but none were compatible. I stopped searching when I was found by some Orion's Hunters and my memories were restored. I resumed taking suppressants when I left Quyllur and rejoined my unit.”

“You could take suppressants now and not attempt a sentinel bonding. You are aware of the long term effects of the sentinel/guide bond? You still wish to acquire Mr. Sandburg for your guide?”

“Yes, Your Reverence. I could continue to take the suppressants, but after using my senses when they were enhanced, it would be like cutting all of them in half. I'm very aware of the pros and cons of being an active sentinel and I know how things work for sentinel and guide pairs. I want Blair Sandburg, and only Blair Sandburg, for my guide.”

“What are the effects of this soul-bond, and how did it occur.”

“Ah, I bound him to me when he tried to commit suicide. We were both spirit walking and I guess our souls were drawn together because we could see and talk to each other. I was helped by the shaman I mentioned earlier. He brewed a drink from the sacred plants, and when I drank the stuff I traveled to the spirit world. Sandburg, he's a shaman in training, so he's been learning how to do it on his own. Anyway, I wouldn't let him die. Somehow I merged my soul to his, although I don't know exactly how I did it, and now he can't kill himself because I'm his anchor to this world. It was one-sided, though. He didn't merge his soul with mine. Your Reverence, the effects of the soul-bond are that when we die, hopefully after long lives and by natural causes, we're going to go together. Also we can sense each other's emotions. Doesn't matter how far away we are.”

The judge gave me a long penetrating stare. I stared right back.

“Court is recessed for two hours. Mr. Sandburg is to be taken back to his cell, and the injunction to have no contact with Detective Ellison is still in effect. Attorney Renardo, knowing your reputation for being thorough, I will accept at this time the details of how Mr. Sandburg's proposed placement as Detective Ellison's guide will serve as his punishment from this court. Please turn your report over to the bailiff, and bailiff, I want it sent immediately to my New Rainier office.”

Her holo winked out, and Blair, who was focused on me like I was the only other person in the universe, didn't hear the guards telling him to stand up. He was abruptly yanked up by his arm, and startled, he stumbled along with them out of the courtroom.

To anyone else it would have looked like he hadn't reacted to the judge informing him of what his sentence would be, if my petition was dismissed. Blair was brave, and since I'd foiled his chance at escaping this life, he'd become resigned to his fate, and he wasn't going to cry or rail. That sense of resignation, of a false calm had been strong in him until I'd shook him up by wanting to claim him. His emotions were now a spinning kaleidoscope of furious red, black depression, and bright brief flashes of hope and joy and amazement.

It was going to be a long two hours.

///

Turned out it was closer to three hours before court resumed. An adjustment had needed to be made on the roll-through space-time gizmo, so that tessering space could resume and the judge's holo be emitted again.

Jack had dragged me to the room he'd commandeered for his ship-board office during the break. He'd told me briskly that I was helping him do some work to finalize his remaining cases before those perps went to trial. When his cases wrapped up, Jack would be re-assigned to another fringe world, go undercover again to keep tabs on what the criminal element was up to before that world, like Quyllur, finalized joining the compact.

I had been denied contact with Blair, but that meant nothing as far as our soul-bond was concerned. I tried to send him reassurance, a sense that things were going to be all right, that he would be safe and secure, but, damn, I couldn't come right out and lie, so I knew he was also picking up on my anxiety. This had to work. It just had to, or else I'd have to grab him and try and shoot my way off the ship.

Blair kept trying to shut down our connection, but of course he was unsuccessful. The poor kid. He was trying hard to keep it together, but he was so close to just screaming out his outrage about everything that had happened to him. He did manage to finally shove what we were sharing into the back of his mind.

His mind. ... If the judge had left off the mind-wiping part of his sentence, I don't think I would have agreed to the sentinel-guide bond. Instead, I would have kept working to clear his name and get his sentence repealed. Blair was tough; he could have handled doing convict labor until I secured his release. Now, if the judge granted my petition, we were going to be closer, more intimate than most married couples. On the plus side, I was in love with him; however, I wasn't sure I loved him, and I really doubted that he felt either one of those emotions about me. If he did, he was keeping it well hidden.

Oh, I knew he'd been attracted to me, and he'd liked me, back when he thought I was just the muscle for some shady dealers. But he hadn't taken it to the next level, had he? He hadn't asked me to sleep with him. Maybe because the shamans had asked him to be celibate. Or maybe because being attracted to a minor criminal type didn't mean he intended to act on it, because that might jeopardize the plans he'd had for his life.

He was going to have to sleep with me now, if the judge decided to accommodate me. Sex was a part of bonding, at least initially. I didn't know the science of it, not really. Something about orgasms, and the exchange of pheromones making changes in the brain, resulting in dormant genes turning on and inactive glands waking up.

I swore to myself that I would make it good for him. I'd treat him gently, and I'd be a considerate lover.

God, he had to willingly consent to intercourse. I wouldn't blacken my soul by adding rape to the tally of my sins. If he refused me, I'd lose him.

Jack thwacked me on the back of the head with a notebook, as he walked by. I turned around and gave him a “what the fuck” look, and he raised his eyebrows and gave me a concerned glance before tossing his work over to his own desk. Jack was kind of a throw-back in that he liked writing down his notes on actual paper, instead of just entering it into a text file on his slave.

“Ellison, pay attention. You've been staring at that screen for ten minutes, but I don't see any work getting done. C'mon, it's out of your hands now, and you need to stay busy, stay focused. So be a pal, and help me out, finish up that paperwork so a court date can be scheduled.”

There really was nothing I could do, and Jack had been nothing but kind to me since I'd met him. He'd become a good friend, so I gave him a little sketch with my fingers and this time I actually read the text as I completed another one of the endless number of forms that the justice system required.

I continued to do paperwork, until the bailiff commed us and gave us notice that court would be resuming in fifteen minutes.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting in the court room, waiting to hear what Blair's fate would be.

///

We went through the ancient ritual of standing up and bowing when the judge returned. I knew it was meant as a gesture of respect, and I had a distracting thought that Blair would know the history behind it.

I clenched my fists and waited to hear if my sacrifice would be accepted. Blair was biting his lip, but I don't think he realized he was doing it.

At least she wasn't going to drag this out, because she ordered both of us to approach the dais.

“Detective Ellison, Mr. Sandburg. The court accepts Detective Ellison's change of circumstance petition, finding that he does have a significant interest in the disposition of the defendant. However, Detective Ellison must agree to certain terms before the defendant is released into his custody. Above all, Mr. Sandburg is being punished for serious crimes, and he will not be allowed unsuitable privileges.”

She cast a stern glance at me.

“He may only engage in recreational activities of a social nature if you, Detective Ellison, are present. He will be assigned to your work place, under your immediate supervision, and the court accepts Captain Simon Banks' offer to monitor complicity in following the court's orders. Furthermore, as this court has significant concerns about the security of this prisoner since he will not be mind-wiped, he will have a bone beacon installed and travel restricted to established boundaries. Should he have legitimate cause to travel with you beyond the established boundaries, Detective Ellison, you will be required to contact the Department of Community Service and inform them.”

The judge looked at me again to emphasize her point and I realized that she had not even made eye contact with Blair. She continued laying out the conditions of our unorthodox arrangement.

“If you do not accompany him then his caseworker must approve the reason. Should Mr. Sandburg travel alone past the boundaries without permission, he will be taken back into custody until a hearing is established to determine if there was an acceptable excuse for violating his boundaries.”

This time she leveled a firm look at Blair. “The only acceptable excuse I would accept would be if the defendant proved he had been kidnapped. Deliberate transgressions will result in additional punishments to be determined as appropriate by the Department of Community Service. Following today's session, that department will be notified of the court's decision, and a caseworker will be assigned to follow up with Mr. Sandburg's probation placement. If the caseworker determines that this placement has failed, court will reconvene. The likely outcome would be that Mr. Sandburg would be mind-wiped and assigned to a more typical placement.”

The message of 'you played the sentinel card and the court will allow you to keep Sandburg as your guide, but he's still convict labor and you will treat him that way, or the court will take him back' was clear to me at least. Blair, not so much. He was listening, but he wasn't really taking in the information. Mostly, he was radiating an overwhelming relief. It was encouraging to know that he didn't absolutely hate the idea of being my guide. Or at least preferred it to being a mind-wiped convict for twenty-five years.

“Detective Ellison, as proposed to this court, you are responsible for your guide's medical needs, and for providing food, clothing, and shelter. His community service hours for Major Interplanetary Crime are to be documented, but any additional credits earned in any other manner are to be turned over to you, and I will allow you to use them for compensation of your guide's care. Keep records. Mr. Sandburg's current bank accounts and property are to be confiscated and turned over to the court for disposition to the Victim's Fund. He may keep his clothing and personal items providing that they fit within the allowed parameters for convict laborers.

The relief that had dominated Blair's emotions receded; I felt his anger and I cautioned him through our bond to not react. The judge could still change her mind about all of this.

“Furthermore, Mr. Sandburg surrenders all of his rights as a citizen of New Rainier, and his code is to be updated with his changed status. Upon the completion of twenty-five years of labor as Detective Ellison's guide, he may resume the privilege of earning his own money, but not be re-instated as a citizen, nor may he break the bond, as this would result in a hardship for Detective Ellison. However, the bone beacon may be removed, and the restrictions on travel will be lifted.”

She picked up the gavel but merely held it. “The court also requires that the sentinel-guide bond be established before Detective Ellison takes full custody of his guide. Captain Banks is to appoint medical staff to monitor and facilitate bonding, and the prisoner is to be held securely until tests show bonding has been completed. The court empowers the medical staff to use whatever means necessary in order to gain the prisoner's cooperation.”

She looked at me again, not Blair. “Detective Ellison, at this time do you have any questions for the court?”

I didn't. All of the court orders would be copied to my slave in triplicate, anyway. The one thing that had surprised me was Blair being ordered to continue the bond even after his sentence was served. I had expected the court to allow him to dissolve it, if that's what he chose to do.

“No, Your Reverence.”

“Detective. You have gone to great lengths to acquire this prisoner as your guide. I hope that you do not have cause to regret it, because the court can and will break the bond, and order him mind-wiped if the prisoner proves totally uncontrollable. And that would have an extremely adverse effect upon you. So control him, or lose him.”

She banged the gavel, the sound echoing like a blaster shot. The bailiff announced that court was dismissed, as the judge's holo disappeared.

I turned and faced Blair. His face was flushing, and his fists were clenching, but I couldn't let him take a swing at me right there in the court room. Later, if he still wanted to do it, I'd let him. But in public, especially at first, he was going to have to show me respect. It would please the judge to be told my guide was out of control, and that mind-wiping was the best option after all.

I spoke to him quietly, hoping to avoid attention. “Blair, use your head and think. Stay calm, do as you're told, and we'll make the best of this situation. Later, when we're alone, you can blow up all you want. But not now, understand?”

He nodded, taking a few deep breaths. He stepped back from me, and while I could guess it was because he didn't want to be within swinging distance, it still felt like a rejection, one that I truly didn't expect to feel. He looked at me, eyes widening, and bit his lip again. I wanted to take my finger and soothe it; I wanted him to relax and trust me that I would make things okay for him.

Simon put an end to our awkwardness. He stepped up and took Blair by the arm, and with a practiced motion, placed lockers on his wrists.

“Sandburg, we're going along with Dr. Mako to the infirmary and see what he advises. Jim, get what you need from your quarters and get set up in secure room three. Let's get this bonding done as fast as possible, so that things can go back to normal around here. I'll comm you when Sandburg's ready.”

Blair was towed away by Simon. I think he was still a little in shock, judging from what I could feel from him.

I was going to bond to a guide. My life would never be the same again, and right now, while I thought it had been the right thing to do, I wasn't feeling very happy.

And neither was Blair.

I hoped I hadn't made a huge mistake. I left the court room, and after a detour to my quarters, I entered the room where Blair and I would be locked in. No doubt we would not be allowed to leave until we'd had sex, lots of sex, and triggered the bonding reflexes.

I sat down on the bed, and waited for my unwilling guide.

///

Continued in Part Four - A.

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