Chapter 15: Truth and Consequences

Martian Capital Building

New Pittsburgh, Mars

Monday, June 3, 2148

The trial of Jack Strough, head of the Martian Cargo Handler’s Union, was expected to be the biggest vid event since the end of Martian Hammer. It wasn’t expected to take long, no more than a day, maybe two, and the result was expected to be a conviction. The evidence was overwhelming.

Once Raoul DePierre, or John Buffalo as he was born, was caught and cracked, Planetary Intelligence had gone into overdrive. The capture of a WestHem spy and the revelation that he was manipulating the supposedly unbreakable Martian banking system was the most important counterintelligence victory since the Revolution.

In the long run, what had been discovered about the banking system was more important than simply grabbing a spy. His computer had been cloned and downloaded, and Planetary Intelligence and the Financial Regulation Office had been all over the results. That had taken several weeks before Ass Blaster and the Secretary of Finance met with the Planetary Security Group.

Blaster had been the main speaker for the meeting. “We have good news, and we have bad news, and that’s not just the start to a bad joke. The bad news is that WestHem has our banking system totally penetrated. The good news is that they haven’t touched the election system.”

Governor Tesla gave a wry smile and said, “So we can vote, but our money’s no good. I can’t wait to tell this to the voters.”

“Actually, that’s why it’s a good thing. Voting is something that is done very infrequently, whereas banking is something that is done every day. It shouldn’t be a surprise that the programmers and hackers spent their time working over the banks. That’s where the money is. Why chase voting? Under the WestHem system, the votes were what the government and corporations said they were. What the coders wanted was more money, not more freedom. They liked the corrupt system, they just wanted more of the corruption,” answered Blaster.

“He’s right, Governor. We’ve found at least a half-dozen back doors into the banking system, and there might be more. We are going to spend months, maybe years plugging the holes, and we are going to need continuing MPG Intelligence to help,” added Romy Newfelt, the Secretary of Finance.

Marcus Slackass, Blaster’s boss and the head of Planetary Intelligence, waved a hand at that. “My people have a team working with Finance to see what else might have been affected. They will stay on this as long as needed.”

Tesla asked, “So what else have we discovered? What’s this spy been doing other than blowing up our banking system?”

“Routine spy stuff,” Blaster replied. “We’ve been reviewing the GPS data we pulled from his computer and trying to figure out where he’s been and who he’s speaking to. We’ve also been reading his mail, both receiving and sending. He hasn’t sent much information home that he couldn’t get off MarsGroup. He has also been complaining about the difficulty in recruiting agents. Most of the usual triggers haven’t been working. However, there is one name that is cropping up routinely and that we are investigating.”

“Who?” was asked around the table.

Blaster shook his head. “I can’t say. I’ve told Marcus, but until we are prepared to charge the individual, we are required to keep his name confidential.”

“How long?” asked Tesla.

“Weeks? Months? The problem with this sort of thing is that in order to prosecute him we will need to explain how we caught him. That gets into counterintelligence techniques and methods, which we don’t normally discuss in public. We’ll also need to run things past a planetary judge.”

Slackass sighed. “It’s even conceivable that we might let the new spy run free, to track and see what he gets up to. We’ll know soon enough.”

That had been back in early April. Before April ended, however, it was obvious that WestHem had figured out their spy had been compromised and had cut ties to him. Buffalo wasn’t sure how, but there must have been either another agent tracking his movements or some technical detail from the phone that was missed. At that point, there was no use in trying to use him to further their counterintelligence.

Buffalo had smiled and asked, “What happens now? Hold me to use in a trade?” That was a common practice on Earth; if the FLEB caught an EastHem spy they would often trade him back to get a WestHem spy that had been caught earlier.

He wasn’t smiling a minute later when Harold Reininger, his interrogator, told him, “No, now we put you on trial for espionage. WestHem doesn’t want you back. They have nobody to trade for you. They’ve already killed all the communist Greenie terrorist spies, remember? They made videos of the executions and broadcast them. No, we’re going to put you on trial and sentence you to life at hard labor. We figure the trial will take two days, tops. Then we are going to put everybody you turned on trial for espionage and treason.”

“You can’t do that! WestHem will pay for me!”

“With what? We don’t accept dollars here, remember? Sorry. I’ll get you a lawyer.” Reininger stood up and said, “Good luck.” He left the cell.

Buffalo started yelling for Reininger to come back, but he was talking to himself.

The trial started two weeks later and lasted six hours. Midway through the trial, Planetary Intelligence agents walked up to Jack Strough in his office and hit him with a tanner wand. They also seized his computer, searched his home, and searched his office, all courtesy of warrants signed by a planetary judge.

Now it was time for a trial.

“When do I get out of here? I’ve been in a holding cell for two weeks. Plead me out to jaywalking or something and get me out of here.”

Robert Holden shook his head. He was the court-appointed lawyer assigned as Strough’s defense attorney. Specifically, he was the second defense attorney appointed. Strough had fired the first one when he told Strough he wasn’t going to be let go. “It doesn’t work that way, Jack. This is not WestHem. This is Mars.”

“I am a WestHem citizen, and this is a WestHem colony illegally seized by communist terrorists.”

“Jack, insanity is not a defense recognized by Mars. This is Mars, not WestHem. You can say you’re a citizen of WestHem if you want. Hell, you can say you’re a Saucer Man from Alpha Centauri for all I care. It won’t matter. This is Mars and you are going to jail,” said Holden.

“You’re fired!”

“You can’t fire me. You already replaced your first lawyer. You can’t fire a second.”

“Then tell them I was a double agent! Tell them I was being blackmailed. Tell them I was secretly working for the MPG to trap Buffalo or DePierre or whoever he was. Do I look like I care? Tell them whatever you have to!” yelled Strough.

Holden sighed. “No, no, and no. That’s not how the system works.”

“I’ll tell you how the system works! The system works when I pay somebody to make it work! Now, get me out of this fucking shit!”

“No, Jack, it doesn’t work that way. I am a government employee. My job is not to lie about whatever it is you’ve been doing. My job is to make sure that the government obeys the law and to protect your rights. If they do that, and if they have the proof of what they claim, then all it takes is ten out of fifteen jurors to vote you guilty. I have seen the proof, Jack. After the trial, another lawyer will handle your appeal, but by then you will be at Dow turning big rocks into small rocks.”

Strough was red-faced as he yelled at his lawyer. “The government is charging me and trying me and you’re a government employee! That’s a conflict of interest! I want a lawyer of my own!”

“That’s too bad because you can’t have one. Like I said, this is Mars, not WestHem.”

“I want a WestHem lawyer who works for me!”

“And we are back to the insanity defense. We don’t have that.” He stood up and motioned for the guard to let him out of the interrogation room.

Strough began banging on the partition that separated them. “Get me out of here!”

“I will see you at the trial, Jack.”

Holden was true to his word. He next saw Jack Strough the morning of the trial. Holden was wearing formal-looking black shorts and t-shirt. Strough was wearing prison-issue red and white striped shorts and t-shirt. The first problem came when they were empaneling the jury. In true Martian fashion, a computer system kicked out fifteen names of New Pittsburgh citizens from among the larger pool already gathered in the jury room. They were brought into the courtroom and sent to the jury box, three rows of five seats each.

Judge Freeman Jackson called the court to order. He turned to the jury and said, “Greetings, citizens. I hope you had an enjoyable weekend and that your heads are clear, and you are not suffering from too much sex and alcohol. Well, maybe just too much alcohol. Not sure whether I’ve ever heard of too much sex.” Strough looked aghast at this, and at what came next. “Now, before we get started, I need to ask a few questions. This is a trial involving just a few people. Do any of you know me. Not just have seen my picture or have heard of me. Does anybody know me?”

Nobody said anything. Nobody said anything when he asked if they knew the prosecuting attorney or the defense attorney. When he asked if they knew Jack Strough, about half the hands went up. That had the judge asking another round of questions. Did they know him personally or only through seeing him on the news? Were they members of the cargo handler’s union? Would that affect their judgment? One of the jurors admitted that he had met Strough and had a few drinks with him, he was excused, and another juror was brought in. He passed the judge’s questions and that was it, the jury was empaneled.

“What are you doing?” demanded Strough of his lawyer. “Why didn’t you stop this? Half those assholes are vermin!”

Holden grabbed him and whispered, “Lower your voice! Those vermin have ears! This is Mars, not WestHem! You don’t get to pick and choose your jury! Now, shut up!”

The judge gave Strough a dirty look and said to the prosecutor, “You can present your case.”

The woman stood up and said, “Thank you, your honor.” She faced the jury and said, “My name is Heather Buttersoft and I am the prosecuting attorney for Mars. The defendant is Jack Strough and he is charged with treason and espionage. We have overwhelming evidence of this and will show it to you now...”

Strough grabbed Holden’s arm. “Shut her down! Stop this farce! Do something!”

Holden shook off Strough and focused on the case. Buttersoft continued, even though she was internally gleeful that the defendant was acting like an ass. Her first witness was an MPI agent named Will Bruster, who was identified as the agent who had arrested Strough and confiscated his computer.

“Agent Bruster, did you have a warrant to arrest Jack Strough and take his computer?”

Bruster answered, “Yes, I did.”

Buttersoft held up a warrant and asked, “This warrant?”

Bruster looked at it briefly and said, “Yes.”

“Please enter this as Exhibit 1.”

“Stop this!” demanded Strough. “That was an illegal warrant!” he yelled.

Judge Jackson looked at Holden and asked, “Is there a problem with the warrant?”

“No, your honor.”

“It’s bogus!” shouted Strough. “They had no right to arrest me or take my computer!”

Jackson sighed. He looked at the witness and asked, “Who signed the warrant?”

“Judge Thomas Deever.”

Jackson looked at the warrant and nodded, then picked up his phone. He hit a number and spoke briefly before hanging up. He spoke to the jury and Strough. “I just spoke to Thom. I’ve known him for years. He told me that he saw the evidence to issue the warrant and the warrant was legit.”

“What evidence? That’s an illegal warrant! This should be thrown out!” yelled Strough.

“Strough, shut up! If you keep flapping your yap, I’ll have you bound and gagged!” said Jackson. Then he asked Bruster, “Why’d you get the warrant? If the warrant is no good, this shit all gets thrown out.”

“Judge, this was the result of the MPI catching a WestHem spy, John Buffalo. He was convicted three weeks ago. During that investigation we discovered that Buffalo had been in contact with Jack Strough and that Strough was working for him. Judge Deever authorized us to arrest Strough and inspect his computer and bank records. That was both to see if the case against the spy, Buffalo, was legit, and if it was, then to catch his spies.”

“LIES! ALL LIES!” screamed Strough, jumping out of his chair.

“Shut him up!” ordered the judge. Three policemen grabbed Strough, forcing him back into his seat and binding him with zip-straps before gagging him.