Read How to Keep Your Head When Everyone Wants to Put it on a Spike Page 2


  #

  Before the end of the day, my phone had buzzed eleven times – all calls from Ceres Central – all ignored.

  I was busy composing a letter.

  A tell-all confession – written by me in behalf of the captain – the captain of the Mars Tether.

  Of course, Captain Rubini had no idea he was confessing to capital espionage.

  Better him than me.

  The tough part was figuring out how to explain why Rubini would confess. Why offer your own head up on a platter?

  The answer came to me that afternoon, when Raimes called me in to chew me out over some stupid little thing from last week.

  I decided I was tired of Raimes.

  So, Rubini confessed to colluding with Raimes.

  Simple.

  In exchange for clemency, Rubini would hand over all the damning evidence against my captain, the mastermind of the scheme – evidence conveniently manufactured by me.

  I set up an encrypted ghost script-com account, so Rubini would never have to know what “he” was doing, and the authorities would never know it was really me pulling the strings.

  Pretty straightforward little scam, really. Nothing I haven’t done before – only instead of crafting this lie to save Raimes’ head – this time it would have the opposite effect.

  Raimes passed my desk late in the evening, on his way back to his quarters for the night.

  “Aren’t you done taking care of that issue, yet?” he snarled.

  I hit SEND on the script-com before he could see the text over my shoulder. “Yes, actually – I just resolved it.”

  “Good. And don’t bother to explain it to me – I don’t care to know what you did to fix it.”

  I smirked at him. His eyes remained cold.

  “Good night,” he barked gruffly, then turned and walked off.

  “Oh, it’ll be a good night, all right,” I murmured. “Especially if you like getting hauled out of bed in the wee hours by the Caliphate Guard.”

  #

  Right on schedule, at 3:00 a.m. ship’s time, the Crown and Shield rocked as the Caliphate Guard enforcement vessel docked with our starboard airlock without warning.

  I stumbled to the door of my quarters in time to see about a dozen troops hustle down the corridor toward Raimes’ quarters.

  They burst through his door with a noisy scuffle of rifles and ceremonial swords drawn, and after only a few seconds, the half-dressed and disheveled Raimes was dragged out past my door.

  Problem solved.

  #

  Rubino.

  I figured he’d eventually get wind of it all – but I also thought he had no great love for Raimes, and that Raimes’ counter-testimony would lock them into a battle of willful denial that would end with heads rolling happily around the Ceres Central Viceroy Chamber on Earth.

  I did not figure one of those heads would be mine.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t know that Raimes’ replacement – Carol Aikens – was Rubino’s wife’s sister. And that she was a cryptologist.

  My solution was quickly uncovered, and now I’m waiting for the Viceroy to adjudicate my case.

  Unlike the legal system found in America on ancient Earth, the Viceroy dispenses justice – or what they call justice – very swiftly.

  Chances are I’ll wind up with my head on a spike by morning.

  Unless . . .

  #

  “All fall to knees and bow to his Eminence the Viceroy of Ceres Central,” the Chief Guard’s voice boomed.

  I fell to the ground and buried my face in my hands on the floor.

  “Denny Tolman, you are charged with capital espionage. How do you plead?” said the Viceroy.

  In this system, my choices were either guilty or guilty with explanation. I chose the latter.

  “Your Eminence, I choose to explain my guilt.”

  “Go on.”

  “I was trying to save my ship from destruction. If I had not attempted to frame Captain Raimes and Captain Rubino, The Crown and Shield would’ve been, as a business entity, charged with capital espionage. I was striving to reduce the number of death sentences, from forty-nine – the population of our ship – to only two.”

  The Viceroy stared me down. “Well,” he said, “that is quite noble. And now, nobler still, the number shall only be one.”

  “But wait, Your Eminence – there’s more. You may wish to clear the chamber, however.”

  He frowned at me hard, his thick black eyebrow forming a “v” above his slender nose. A wave of his hand dismissed the others from the room, which was left silent for a moment before he said, “Go on.”

  “Your Eminence, I had done my research. I am aware of your involvement with the Issuing Authority and the auction. You stand to profit from the sale and the bids brought in by The Crown and Shield. In fact, it was your aide who leaked the item list to Paul Golden.”

  I thought I heard a low growl come from the Viceroy’s throat.

  I continued. “I have embedded a file in my cortex port. If anything happens to me, it will trigger the system-wide broadcast of the evidence. And if that happens, our heads would sit atop adjacent spikes.”

  His eyebrow flicked up for a moment, then he called for the other authorities to return to the room.

  “My judgment,” he said, “is that the accused will receive ten lashes and be released.”

  He slammed his gavel, and I rubbed at my neck with my left hand, gulping a sigh of relief.

  No heads rolling today.

  THE END

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