Shoshone Station: The Galactic Consortium season 2

Episode Five: Adam #19

Zeta ran into Jack a couple of days later on her way to see Legal. He hailed her. "Haven't seen you in a couple days. You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she lied. He gave her a look. She thought back to their last conversation and smiled. "It's not that. There's been an internal issue. It's taken up a lot of time." Truthfully, she hadn't done much in the way of investigating. But worrying over the fact that she was supposed to be investigating was taking up a lot of her time.

"Anything I can help with?"

She gave him a measured look. "Maybe be an ear? If you have time?"

"Sure. How about we find a quiet corner on Bottom Court? I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on things there, along with Fox."

"Are we expecting trouble?"

"Yes and no. A bunch of open-carry activist are planning a demonstration."

"Open carry?"

"Gun rights activists. They can't have their ammo, but they can have their guns. They're planning on bringing them up."

Fox joined them as they made for the lift. "We've already stopped a handful who thought they could sneak ammo past our scanners. Most, though, are just looking to make the point, bring their unloaded weapon up and walk around with it, to show they can. We aren't really worried about them. But some of the other visitors might get nervous, seeing armed men on the courts. We don't want any problems."

Zeta nodded. Fox joined them and Zeta told them both about the case with the Squid child. Neither fully understood why it would be a problem, and she had to explain all of the ramifications.

"Okay," Fox said, "but in our legal system, you can't be tried twice for the same crime. Isn't that also the case?"

"Yes, theoretically," Zeta said. "And it depends a lot on the individual prosecutor." She scowled. She'd just finished speaking to the prosecutor on duty in Legal. She could tell from the woman's face what she thought of the whole issue. And the list of questions she wanted Zeta to investigate spoke volumes as well. "Sometimes they will say one parent has been tried, but not the other. Or they will say that anyone who is aware of the child might be an accessory to the crime."

"So, they will try to accuse the healer?" Jack asked.

"No. The healers report because they fear if they don't, that will happen; they will be held accountable either by Legal or by their own internal professional ethics commission. Then Legal will charge the parents for putting the healers in that position."

"That's wrong," Jack groused. "Just plain wrong."

"It's not," Zeta insisted. "It's a terrible position to put a professional in, where they must bend their ethics to—"

"Do what is right?" Jack finished.

Zeta blushed. "When you put it that way."

"Maybe somebody should put it that way," Fox commented. "More often."

"Your system has problems, too," Zeta said. "I see your news. People of color claim justice isn't fair for them."

"Preaching to the choir," Fox said.

Jack gave him a hurt look. "It's not perfect. But we don't put people in double jeopardy like this."

"We don't?" Fox said. "We fine people for petty crimes, and when they can't pay the fine, we charge them with contempt of court. And there are plenty of officers on the surface who will stop any 'suspicious-looking' person and investigate them until they find something wrong. And it just happens that people of certain racial types look suspicious more often than white folk, but, hey, that's not racist or anything."

"Are you black?" Zeta asked him.

He gave her a sharp look and then laughed.

"Serious," she protested. "I know Jack is pale skinned." She pointed across the court. "That woman is dark skinned. But you are tan. So many of your people are tan. At what point do you go from white to black?"

"I've had the same discussion with my staff," Fox said, still laughing. "I get what you are saying. We have these distinctions in our mind, because we've been raised to see them. But from an outsider's perspective, the shades between don't make sense." He reached across and brushed one of the tentacles on her chin. "How many of those do you need to be a Squid?"

"One is enough. Everyone knows what it means," she replied.

He nodded. "Exactly. I'm Native American. One drop of Native blood and you are Native."

"Okay," Jack said, holding a hand up. "Can we just agree that our system has problems? We should learn from you, not to judge by color."

"Or gender," Zeta said, thinking of Sophia.

"Or gender," Jack added. "But you should learn not to judge by genetics, or however you want to put it. Still, whatever Legal says, whatever society says, that's not even the biggest thing I am pissed about. How could your boss put you in this position? To investigate one of your own? It's not fair."

"It's my job," Zeta insisted, though it was starting to feel hollow to her.

"Doesn't matter," Jack said. "It's a conflict of interest for you. We can both see it bothers you. Tell him to do it himself. Find someone else. Or just take a hike."

"Is that what you would do? Tell your boss off?"

Jack blanched, and Fox snorted at him. "Well, the thing is . . ."

"What?" she demanded. "You'll give me advice you wouldn't take yourself?"

"It's just, you've met Blumenthal. He scares me," Jack admitted, blushing. "But Arneshi . . ."

"In this matter, it's not his office I answer to. Internally, station management . . . my boss there is more of Blumenthal's type. Always angry about something. But it doesn't matter. If I told him to take a hike, who would do this?"

"No one?" Fox ventured.

"Or another. And they'd—"

"Possibly be biased," Fox finished. "I understand that. It's a tough situation, but maybe better that it's you."

Zeta nodded. There wasn't much else to say, but she felt better having talked it out.