Titan's Plague: The Trial by Tom Briggs (story reading .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Tom Briggs
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This section of Karakorum was primarily office structures, and the business feel was unmistakable. Most of the buildings were three to four stories high and built like boxes with a variable number of rooms on each floor. And like her home here, they were set in a cul-de-sac intersecting the main street.
Pati’s destination was on the right side of the street, near the end. She entered the building down a walkway that bisected it in the center. Inside, she saw a receptionist speaking into a headset. Pati approached, and the receptionist noticed her, but she didn’t stop her conversation. A second later, the receptionist connected the person to their destination and turned to Pati.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I need to see Nancy Tate.”
“She’s on this floor. Use the left hallway from the atrium, middle door on the right side of that hallway.”
“Thanks,” Pati said and stepped around her desk. She entered an atrium with a ceiling window to the outside of Karakorum. She could imagine on clearer days when the sun was in the right position, there would be natural light streaming in, almost like on Earth. It was the same for the deck above her house’s shuttle hangar, and it was a wonderful luxury. The only problem was that such days rarely happened, only a few times a year. Another reason for her to return to the real thing.
Pati turned into the left hallway and strode across the white, polished stone, another luxury item. There were three wooden doors on each side of the hallway and one at the end. She expected the wood was false, a synthetic built from the organics on Titan, because the real stuff would cost a year’s salary, even for these lawyers.
The middle door on the right side had a nameplate for “Nancy Tate” to the left of the door. Pati didn’t see a button, so she knocked, finding the door to be metal.
“Come in,” she heard a female voice say.
Pati turned the metallic lever down and pushed open the door. She stepped in to find an office with blue walls, a white tile ceiling, and lighter-blue floors. The desk looked like wood, and a lady stood on the other side, holding out her hand.
“You must be Pati McLear,” she said, shaking Pati’s hand. Nancy Tate had blonde hair tied back and blue eyes. She also stood at least a decimeter taller than Pati, suggesting she was a second-generation, or secgen for short. Her parents would have immigrated to Titan, or somewhere in the solar system other than Earth, and growing up in lower gravity made her taller than Earth-borns.
Nancy wore a beige business suit while Pati was in gray, wearing a suit more casual than Nancy’s. This year had been hell between Richard and her, and she couldn’t quite feel the part of a grieving widow, so wearing black every day would not happen.
“Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice,” Pati said.
“I volunteered for your case as soon as you sent it into the pool last Friday,” Nancy said. “No one else with my experience and credentials was interested, and I got the case. Within minutes of the assignment, the lawyers for McLear Industries deluged me with information.” She took a deep breath. “We have a busy morning ahead of us.”
“Why did the company get involved? I thought this was about protecting me from prosecution.”
She took another deep breath. “It will be more than that, and right now, I can handle both ends for you. The first thing to know is McLear is paying your bills and not just my fees for the time being.”
Pati understood. It’d been a tense and busy weekend, and she hadn’t bothered to consider how she’d pay her bills. She never needed to worry about expenses since she left Earth; everything was taken care of by Richard and his family. She was only twenty-two then, and only a few days from turning twenty-four today. Living on her own was not a lifestyle she was used to. Having Kerry McLear continue to pay her bills was a nice gesture, but what was the catch? “So, what does that all mean, then?” she asked.
“Please, sit down,” Nancy said.
Pati took the chair on the right in front of Nancy’s desk. Nancy sat down in her chair.
“Let’s start with what the McLear lawyers provided me.”
“Is it anyone in particular you’re working with?” Pati asked. “I’ve met their chief counsel before, although it was just an introduction and nothing more.”
“It wasn’t her. It came from one of their paralegals. Their position is that you, Pati McLear, will no longer be part of their organization.”
“They didn’t say family.”
“No, although it’s implied. The indications are that they will support you through this time, financially. After your legal issues are cleaned up, you’re on your own.”
Pati didn’t fret. Had this been a year ago, when she had some love for this place, it might have caused her some concern. But after Richard became an abusive, violent spouse, she wanted to get back to Earth and leave it all behind. This was probably that time.
On the other hand, she was a legal member of that family, even if she wasn’t treated like it. “I’m not surprised they’re taking that attitude. They had Richard’s body transported to Picus within hours, and I wasn’t allowed to go there for the service they held yesterday. His brother wouldn’t take my calls, either.”
Nancy looked down at her desk. “Kerry McLear wouldn’t even let you attend the funeral for your husband.”
“He knew we’d been fighting, and I could tell they didn’t get along either, at least not in the last year. They seemed distant even before then, so I don’t know why he’s suddenly become the loving and hurt family member.”
“How bad did you want to be there?” Nancy asked.
Pati had to think. After failing to get passage up to Picus on Saturday for the Sunday funeral, she tried again to contact Kerry. When that failed, she felt relieved that she’d done all she could to do as a wife. The fight with Richard, the detectives taking her into custody, and the last three nightmares had all taken a toll. Having to deal with Kerry McLear would have added to the cost. She wasn’t sad to have had a free Sunday. “Okay, it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me.” Pati thought for a second. “What is, then?”
“Well, that depends on how we resolve the case filed by the state against you.”
“The detectives said they would not hold me after they searched my house.”
“You weren’t exactly a flight risk, Pati,” Nancy said. She sat back in her chair. “The state hasn’t assigned a prosecutor because they’re not as agile as the McLear lawyers. I expect sometime tomorrow we’ll find out who gets your case. However, despite their glacial pace, I was able to obtain the investigator’s records and recommendations.”
“They’re finished?”
“The detectives are. They’ve documented that the physical evidence matches perfectly with your statements. They also found it odd there were no recordings of the event.”
“Richard would not have recorders in the house, even for security. At least not during regular days. If we had people over, he’d do it. It just wasn’t a normal thing for us.”
“They did not allege it was an action on your part, so it’s not a problem we need to deal with. The case, from what I can see, will not be about what happened.”
“Okay.”
“It’ll be about what happens to you.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, and unfortunately, the detectives recommended a human-slaughter charge.”
Pati’s stomach fell. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not a murder charge, but you’re right, it’s not good. Let me ask you a question, did you have your eye looked at?”
“No, I haven’t had problems with my vision.”
“That’s not what I meant. In your statement to the detectives at the station, you said Richard McLear struck you across the face, using the back of his right hand. That contact with your orbital bone caused you to lose your temper and strike back. Did anyone check for a bruise on you?”
Pati reached up to her eye. She felt a slight amount of pain pushing where Richard struck her. “I didn’t think to have it checked.”
“Do you still feel some pain?”
“It’s slight.”
“There’s a physician I know nearby who we’ll visit as soon as we’re done here. I know the detectives took your word for it. However, if the state assigns one of their better attorneys, they’ll call into question whether or not Richard McLear struck you.”
“Why would they do that?”
“To weaken your defense. Make us happy to accept a human-slaughter charge because it’s possible your action was premeditated, and there’s no evidence to prove otherwise.”
“Other than my bruise.”
“Correct, and if you’re still feeling pain, he must have hit you good.”
Pati shrugged. “Not that bad, he just hit a soft spot and I felt more pain than normal. If he’d hit my cheek, well, I wouldn’t have hit him as I did. Maybe just pushed him over like I’d done before, making sure he didn’t go toward that stupid pillar in the house.”
“That’s another issue.”
“Me being an Earth-born.”
“Yes, fortunately, it’s not a law that Earth-borns have to receive greater punishments for physical violence here. It’s just implied that you have to be more careful when dealing with your anger than secgens.”
“Yeah, well, how
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