EXILE

Roth felt as if the bottom had fallen out of his stomach. A disturbingly high proportion of his clients had heard similar statements. Unless the defence evidence was watertight and obvious, all cases ended up following the same, well worn path. The CSA had an attitude that operated as if it was an unwritten policy. If there was enough reason to arrest someone, then the chances were that there was some incriminating part of their background, whether or not it was what they had been arrested for. For the CSA, then, once someone had been brought in and booked, it was just a matter of investigating everything in that person’s history until a suitable reason for punishment was found. If a person really was clean of legal blemishes, then there was always the small army of people who were willing to testify in return for the CSA’s blind eye to their own activities. Typically, their informants were seasoned veterans, who were at liberty to do as they pleased, because they could always publicly refute any earlier evidence that they had created.

Roth turned to look at his brother-in-law. Stein was remarkably cool, leaning back in a relaxed manner, mirroring Steadman. Abe had always been a puzzle to Roth, with an enigmatical charisma. Roth had always thought that he knew all that there was to know about Stein, but he had been surprised before. Obviously, he reminded himself, if Abe was involved with the Freedom Movement, he wouldn’t publicise the fact - he was too intelligent for that. Mind you, if he was, this interview in the CSA building would be something that he long ago would have been trained to accept as inevitable, to be expected as sure as the sun rising in the morning.

The problem, Roth realised, was that if Stein was a Movement field agent, he must be relatively high up in the hierarchy, as the Movement would only send their most experienced, trusted and able operators out on such a mission. But why would he be so relaxed? God knows, the two of them had had countless discussions about the CSA’s evidence engineering. Late night sessions, usually. Abe knew what he was up against. He was being charged with conspiracy to assassinate the ruling Committee, an understandably serious charge. Roth felt, against his own personal feelings, that Abe was correctly charged, as an innocent person would be openly panicking.

Abe Stein was confounding Roth - Paul had to defend Stein against a charge, and Stein was blase’ towards it. But... assuming that he was as deeply involved as was suggested, why would he be so complacent? If he was the only perpetrator, the plan would be a failure... he’s not upset, so he can’t be innocent, but neither would the plan fail... if there were more than one, and the CSA slackened security in the confidence that they had him...

All hell broke loose, shattering Paul’s train of thought. Agents were running past the interrogation room towards the entrance, and a general alert bell was ringing. Steadman leapt up and ran to the door. “Fuck it.” He pulled the door open, just as the guard outside was raising her hand to knock. “What the hell is going on?” He spat the words sharply.

“The spaceport, Sir. Four of the Committee have been shot.”

“Wounded?”

“Killed, Sir. Two others wounded.” Steadman ignored this last, and turned away from the guard to face Roth and Stein.

“Don’t think that this gets you off the hook. This interview is over. Mister Stein, we are holding you on remand until trial. The guard will escort you to the cells.”

Paul stood up. “Hang on, a minute.” Steadman stopped. “You can’t hold my client on a charge of conspiracy to commit an act that happened while he was sitting in CSA headquarters. I want bail.”

“Stiff shit, Roth,” Steadman countered. “Conspiracy is not doing, but planning. You ought to know that.”

“Of course I do. But you have no proof of conspiracy.”

Steadman smiled slowly, thinly, spreading malice through the air. “I refute that. As I said earlier, Franklin here said only what he was permitted to say. I won’t add anything myself, except, wait until court.”

Roth felt the case slipping, but he knew that if the CSA were to create a case, they would need time. Remand for trial often lasted months. Paul knew that if he was to have any chance at all, it was this moment.

“Agent Steadman, in my client’s interest, I demand an interim hearing at the next session, in accordance with Article 12 of the Criminal Charges Act.”

Steadman stopped short. He had only been confronted with the Article 12 challenge twice in his career, and this challenge was recorded before witnesses. Most lawyers knew about it, but not in enough detail to confidently demand it. Roth, he knew, would have that knowledge, considering how many CSA cases he had defended. Many lawyers did not take CSA defence cases, as they normally lost - it was a more secure income handling civil litigation and divorces. Article 12 was a provision that allowed for a defendant to have no remand at all, their hearing being held during the next scheduled court session. It was a little-used article, as it could only be invoked if there was no public evidence for holding a person indefinitely on remand. Steadman knew that he had no choice.

“Counsellor, your client will appear before the next scheduled sitting. Agent Franklin, you are dismissed.” Franklin stood up and left the room. “I will go now and consult with the Justice Department, and will be back as soon as possible. In the meantime, you are at liberty to discuss the case with your client. The guard will be outside the door.”

Without waiting for a reply, Steadman left the room, followed by the guard, who resumed her post outside the closed door.

Steadman strode purposefully down the hectic hallway. Allowing Stein to carry the Article 12 was okay by him, as he had the incriminating evidence already, namely the documents in Stein’s handwriting that he had netted during the raid a few months before. All that he had to do was to set the wheels in motion for the trial. Personally, he was glad that Roth had demanded Article 12 cancellation of remand, as it meant that he would not have to wait for months on end to see Stein go down. The sooner, the better.

Inside the interview room, Roth turned on Stein. “What the hell is going on, Abe? I mean, here you are, facing god knows what sort of charges, and you don’t seem to care!”

Stein looked across at Roth, and grinned. “Cool down, Paul. Don’t forget, we’re still being recorded, and probably videotaped.”

“Yeah, I know we are, we’re in the middle of the goddamn CSA, Abe, and you’re in the middle of it!”

“Hang on, Paul. Look, they nailed me on a charge of conspiring to commit treason. Don’t forget, they have absolutely no evidence to indicate that I was in that hotel for any reason more than the wrong place and the wrong time.”

Paul balled his fist into his other hand. “But, what about the lack of i.d.? Have you forgotten about that?”

“Trivial.”

“Trivial? Their investigation leads them to you, holed up in a dive miles from your own flat, and finds you with no i.d.? And you say it’s trivial?”

“Yup. So, I forgot to pack my i.d. wallet. Big deal. I pay the fine and have my wrist slapped.”

“Really?” Paul turned, and glanced at the door. Through the small window, he could see the back of the guard’s head. “Are you forgetting Franklin? Obviously they’re holding something back.” Abe just raised an eyebrow, as he looked up at Paul.

“Look, mate, we both know what the score is. Since when has the CSA arrested anyone who has later been found innocent? Never. I’ve been nicked, for whatever reason, and they’re not about to start saying “Sorry, wrong guy”. Talking about anything is dangerous, wherever you are. All that we can do is to wait for the hearing, and to see what happens.”

Paul placed his hands on his hips and sighed. “You’re right. But I can give you some advice, much of it common sense.”

“What about...” Stein flicked his head, meaning the CSA bugs and camera.

“Don’t worry. What I have to say, I’ve said many times before in this building. Okay?” Stein nodded. “Right. The CSA claim that you are a member of the Freedom Movement. I don’t know, they won’t say why. There was no evidence on you to link you in any way with the Movement, and nothing on your past record, either, not even known acquaintances with members. You’re clean on that score, unless they have at this moment evidence against you. That’s why I called for Article 12, as it gives them no time to construct a case against you - for them to succeed, they will have to have their case already prepared. If they do, you’re dead meat, pardon the expression. If, as I sincerely hope, they don’t have anything to link you with the Movement, then all that you have to deal with is the i.d. matter. That can easily be put down to carelessness.”

“And if they have something on me?”

“Well, hey, no-one said it would be easy.” Roth sat down, facing Stein across the table. “If they do, then they can only book you for associating with, or being a member, of an outlawed organisation.”

“Okay, Paul. So, let’s run through a few scenarios, talking sentences. Starting with the obvious, the i.d. is a fine and parole. A successful charge of conspiracy? What is that worth?”

“Worst case, Abe? We’re talking named bullets, here.”

“Hang on. What about my family? What about my old man?”

“Considered.” Samuel Stein had been both a public and a military hero, and had been instrumental in winning the guerilla war against the Central American drug lords. Not because the public were at risk of the decay that came with the narcotic culture, but because the drug lords were gaining popular and political power, threatening the hold of the young Committee over the American continents. Back then, though, the Committee was still the Security Council of the United Nations. In reward for his services, Sam and his family were promised the privilege of Committee Wardenship. However, memories fade and promises wear thin.

“Look at it this way,” Paul continued. “As far as the CSA and the Global Union Committee are concerned, a threat is a threat, and is to be treated as such. Heroic histories don’t give blanket immunity to any serious charges, no matter how nebulous the evidence.”

“So? Where does that leave me?”

“In a bad way. The CSA will use you to their fullest advantage. In terms of publicity and feel-good ratings, it suits them to hold you up on a treason or conspiracy charge, and instead of terminating you, to give you a lesser sentence, say, orbital solitary, ocean labour or lunar.”

“How big of them,” Stein snarled.

“Exactly - a clemency vote, in the eyes of the masses. Suddenly, the CSA appears to have softened their image, and don’t seem like the great ogre of old.”

“Yeah, and at my expense, Paul. What about my innocence?”

“That remains to be proven. They never have, and never will, let anyone walk blameless. You’ll go down for something, whatever way that you look at it. The question is, what will stick to you beyond the i.d. shortage?”

“Nothing, Paul. Don’t forget, I’m the pawn here.”

“I just hope that you’re right, for all of our sakes.”