"Lieutenant Commander Garrity?" The walk from the Michaelson to the lawyers' offices hadn't been all that far, but had felt longer with uncertainty dragging at his feet every step of the way.
Wakeman's defense counsel looked up from her work to see Paul standing in the doorway. "Yes. Ensign Sinclair, isn't it?"
"Yes, ma'am. I, uh, I'd like to talk to you."
"What about, Ensign Sinclair? You're listed as a witness for the prosecution."
"I… I think… my testimony might be more appropriate as a defense witness, ma'am."
Garrity couldn't hide her surprise, followed by interest. "You do?"
"I think so, ma'am."
Garrity smiled encouragingly. "Let's talk. Have a seat."
Chapter Nine
When Paul got back to the ship, Carl and Jen were sitting in the ensign locker idly bantering back and forth during the brief period left before ship's work resumed after the break for lunch. Jen took one look at Paul, then glowered at him. "You did it, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
Carl looked from Paul to Jen. "Did what?"
"Something noble. And stupid. Right, Paul?"
Carl laughed. "Oh, man. Did you change your statement or something?"
"No." Paul sat down, avoiding looking at either of the others. "I just went to Lieutenant Commander Garrity, she's Wakeman's defense counsel, and got added as a witness for the defense."
"The defense? Of what Wakeman did?"
"No!" Paul almost yelled it, wondering why even he felt frustrated with himself. "Not of what he did. Of what he's charged with. Of why he did it. Of why we found ourselves in that position in the first place."
Carl glanced at Jen. "Did you understand that?"
"Not entirely. Paul, you did think this through, right?"
"Yeah. I thought it through."
"And you did it anyway? Why?"
"Because I don't want to spend the rest of my life avoiding mirrors."
Carl stared back, his puzzlement obvious, but Jen slowly nodded in understanding. "Mirrors can be real difficult. So did this Garrity tell you what Wakeman's defense is going to be?"
"No. I gather she doesn't have much to work with."
"Duh."
"I just talked to Garrity about what I'd seen, what our orders were like, that kind of stuff. She's going to work that into her defense."
"How?"
"I don't know. It's not my place to know."
"Then what is it you're going to say as a defense witness?"
"I'm not sure."
"Paul Sinclair, you are the most exasperating human being I have ever met! What is this going to do to your career?"
"I'm not sure of that, either."
"Shouldn't you be?"
He stared at the deck, then back up at Jen. "No. No, I shouldn't. Because if I didn't do anything that I thought might hurt my career, I'd be Sam Yarrow. I don't want to be Sam Yarrow."
Carl looked over at Jen. "He's got a point."
"Yeah. On his head." Jen stood up, eyeing Paul sourly. "What am I going to do with you? I've got some work that's going to keep me busy all afternoon. If you want to talk after that, look me up." She swung out through the hatch, the sounds of her movement through the passageway fading rapidly.
Carl scratched his head. "Well, Paul, I'm not sure I'd have done what you did, but it took some guts. Do you think it'll matter?"
"I have no idea. But I guess I finally decided that whether it mattered or not to everybody else, it did matter to me."
"Another good point. Tell that to Jen when you talk to her tonight."
"I'm not sure I should talk to her tonight."
"She wouldn't have offered if she didn't want you to."
"But Jen seemed real unhappy with me."
"Nah. She's just a little aggravated. If Jen had been real unhappy with you, she would have ripped off your arm and then used it to beat you senseless. Oh, by the way, Commander Garcia was looking for you."
"Great."
"Where are you going?"
"To find Jan Tweed."
Paul discovered that word of his action was quickly circulating through the ship. He could track its progress by seeing how other members of the crew looked at him. Their questioning expressions and the wave of whispered conversations following him through the ship began to irritate Paul more and more. He finally found Jan Tweed, in a hiding place he'd have never imagined without a hint dropped by Chief Imari, then hauled her to see Garcia so they could both be chewed out at some length for the cleanliness of the spaces assigned to their division and the general appearance of their enlisted personnel. But after Garcia had finished his tirade he gave Paul a version of the look and hesitated before dismissing them. "Is there something else, sir?" Paul asked. I've about had it. Go ahead with whatever you want to say.
Almost as if sensing Paul's defiance, Garcia eyed him for a long moment, then shook his head. "No. No, Sinclair. Don't embarrass me."
"Yes, sir." Garcia didn't ask me anything, but he sure commented on the answer I didn't give.
Jan Tweed stopped Paul before they separated. "What was that last thing about?"
"I guess you're probably the only one on the ship who hasn't heard. I've agreed to be a defense witness at Wakeman's court-martial."
Tweed seemed baffled. "Why?"
"Because I thought it was the right thing to do."
She stared at him a moment longer. "Why?"
"I thought Wakeman was being railroaded, and-"
"And whatever he gets, he deserves."
For the first time since he'd met her, Paul saw flat disapproval in Jan Tweed's eyes. "I want him to get what he deserves. I just don't want him to get more than that."
"Why not? It's the sort of thing he's been doing to us, isn't it? Doesn't Wakeman deserve the same sort of treatment he's given us?"
Paul looked away, unable to bear her anger. "I'm sorry, Jan. I know what guys like Wakeman have done. I just don't want to end up like them."
The silence following his last statement stretched so long that Paul looked back at her, finding Jan still watching him, her face working with emotion. "I didn't want to end up like this, Paul. Wakeman can go to hell. And if you help get him off you can go to hell, too."
"Jan, I don't want to help him get off scot-free. I want him called to account. There's no way anything I say can exonerate everything Wakeman did." Her face steadied, but remained unhappy. "Jan, you taught me a lot of good lessons. I mean it. I don't want you leaving the ship hating me."
"I don't hate you, Paul. I don't understand you. I'm worried that you're doing something that will let someone I do hate literally get away with murder. But what do you care what I think? I'm Jan Tweed, object lesson in failure for new officers."
"That's not true!" Paul shook his head, keeping his eyes fixed on hers even though she tried to evade them. "Jan, you taught me a lot of good lessons."
Her face softened, falling back into its familiar protective mask. "Thanks. But there's more to being a naval officer than that." Tweed's face closed down and her shoulders went into their defensive hunch as she turned away. "I don't hate you, but if you let Wakeman get off free you'll have hurt me."