"I'm sorry. That's not possible."
"Huh-?"
"Duke and I tried to look at it last night. Unfortunately ... um ... the memory clip was defective."
"What?"
"The write-protect tab was out-"
"That was a brand new clip! I loaded it myself."
"-so the camera and microphone signals were not recorded. The clip was blank." She said it firmly and looked at me, as if daring me to argue with her.
"But-" I'd tested that clip myself! I saw the look on Ted's face and stopped. "Yes, ma'am."
She gestured to Ted and Ted switched off the transcriber again. She said, "Look, it's irrelevant. No matter what we decide here, it won't bring back Shorty. I promise you, he's going to stay dead. So if you're trying to justify your guilt feelings, please stop wasting our time. It doesn't produce much result."
"I'm sorry, ma'am," I protested. "I understand what you're saying-but I should have done better-I mean, if only-"
"Stop!" She glared down the table at me. "Jackson, is that thing off?" He checked and nodded. "Thank you," she said. "You're not getting it. So let me give it to you another way. Listen, McCarthy, the responsibility for putting that weapon in your hands was mine-do you get that?"
I nodded.
"So if there was an error there, it's my error too. Do you get that?"
I nodded again.
"And I don't make errors. Not of this kind. You were handed that weapon because you were judged to be capable of handling the responsibility. Shorty thought so. Duke thought so. I thought so. Are you telling us now that all three of us were wrong?"
"Uh-no, but-"
"No buts about it. Either we were wrong or we were right. This thought you have that you screwed up is nothing more than an attempt to avoid the responsibility, and pass the error back up the line to the people who authorized the weapon for you. I'm sorry, but we're not accepting delivery. You took the job. You knew what was involved. You accepted the responsibility. So I don't care how you think you handled it. You handled it appropriately." She glared at me with eyes like fire. "Can you get that?"
"Y-yes, ma'am." I shoved my fists into my lap and stared at them. She didn't want to hear me.
Dr. Obama stopped and cleared her throat, coughing into her clenched fist. She took a drink of water, then looked up again without focusing on anyone in particular. She nodded to Ted. He switched the transcriber back on. "Does anyone else have anything to add?" She waited without expression. "Then I take it that all of you here are convinced that Shorty Harris's death was unavoidable. Is there anyone who disagrees? Is there anyone who disputes the validity of McCarthy's response? No one?" She looked at Duke. Duke did not meet her gaze. He seemed troubled and for a moment I thought he was going to speak; then, instead, he just shook his head.
Dr. Obama waited a moment longer, then exhaled softly. She seemed relieved. "All right, let the record show that this hearing has determined that James McCarthy acted with dispatch and fortitude. Those present at the scene confirm that McCarthy's actions were appropriate and above reproach. Furthermore, it is the opinion of this body that McCarthy's professed clumsiness is an expression only of his feeling of inexperience in combat, not negligence."
She looked around the table. Duke nodded his reluctant approval. Everyone else seemed ... deliberately nonchalant. "All right, before we adjourn is there anyone who has any information which would cast any light on any of these questions we've brought up?" She waited only a second. "I thought not. It is hereby determined that this board of inquiry is unable to reach a conclusion about the circumstances of yesterday's operation, and for all the usual reasons: we simply do not have the knowledge of the Chtorran species that we need. It is the sense of this session and the conclusion of this panel that we have only the questions and none of the answers. We therefore make no recommendations of any kind. This meeting is adjourned. File that, Jackson, and put a copy on the wire-no, let me see it before you send it out." She stood up, gathered her notepad, and nodded. "Good day, gentlemen."
THIRTEEN
DUKE AND I were left alone in the room.
He looked haggard and very old. He was leaning on his elbows and staring into yesterday. His bony hands were clenched, two knotted fists pressed hard together, pressed against his jaw. "Uh, Duke . . ."
He looked up, startled. When he saw it was me, his face tightened. "What is it?"
"Um-I have some specimens."
Duke blinked. For a moment, he wasn't there; then he remembered. "Right. You'll find a set of handling cases in the storeroom. Do you know where it is? It's bungalow six. We'll send them out on Thursday. Try and keep those eggs and millipedes alive."
"I think the bigger problem would be killing them-" I saw that he had disappeared inside himself again. He had dismissed me. "Uh-Duke?"
He came back impatiently. His eyes were red. "Yeah?"
"Uh, did Ted talk to you yet?"
"No, he hasn't. About what?"
"He said he was going to. We thought that maybe-I mean, I am supposed to be an exobiologist-"
Duke held up one hand. "Spare me the story. What do you want?"
"A lab," I said quickly. "So I can do some of my own observations on the millipedes and eggs and that purple stuff from around the dome."
He looked annoyed. "I don't want you damaging those specimens before they get to Denver! I've got enough problems-"
"I'm not gonna `damage' anything!"
Duke snorted.
I said, "Duke, if you're pissed at me, then say so."
"I am not pissed at you-"
"I don't believe you." I walked around and sat down in Dr. Obama's chair and faced him. "What's going on here, Duke? This was the stupidest inquest I've ever been to-" He looked up at that, a question in his eyes. "Three," I answered before he could ask, "-not counting this one. Nothing was established here. Nothing at all. I grant that there aren't a lot of answers yet to most of our questions-but the questions that could have been answered weren't. They were whitewashed. So excuse me for being suspicious, but what was all this about?"
Duke shook his head. He stared at his hands. "You don't want to know."
"Yes, I do!"
Duke let that sink in. Then he said quietly, "You were only doing what Shorty told you to do. You were following orders."
I sniffed. I quoted from somewhere, " ` "I was only following orders" is not an excuse-it's an indictment.' "
"Who said that?"
"I just did."
Duke's expression was scornful. "Don't give me slogans, son. I've got a low threshold of bullshit. Especially today."
"I heard it in Global Ethics. And it's no slogan. It's true for me. Look-there's something I want you to know."
"I don't really want to hear it," he said. "In fact, I don't want to talk at all right now."
"Neither do I," I said. I could feel my voice starting to quaver. "But I have to! Until someone just listens to me!" My throat was tightening and I was terrified I was going to start crying. It was all bubbling up. I didn't even know what it was. I said, "I'm the guy who pulled the trigger, Duke. I'm the guy responsible. You and Dr. Obama can say whatever you want in an inquest, but I'm still the guy who did the job."
He looked like he was going to say something else, but he stopped himself. "All right, say what you have to then, and get it over with." His voice was very quiet.