Free The Devil and Deep Space by Susan R. Matthews Page B

benefits of all planned approaches, Dame.” Brecinn still revealed nothing — unless her use of the loaded word fiduciary was intended to hint at the underlying rewards that Mergau might expect to share if she came up with a good approach. “But surely it’s premature to speculate about mutiny. Assassination.”
    Mergau shook her head. “Not at all, Admiral. I am completely confident of my information. The Second Judge does not like to publish the fact, but I hold the Writ to Inquire for Chilleau Judiciary, Admiral Brecinn. And I say that the crew of that Wolnadi will confess their Free Government connections and treasonable intent for the Record in due form, before they die. All you need to do is provide me with the crew.”
    It wasn’t exactly true to say that she held the Writ to Inquire for Chilleau Judiciary. Her Writ had never been revoked or rescinded, to spare the First Secretary the embarrassment of putting the failure of his experiment on record. But he hadn’t used her Writ for years, not since she’d failed to get results from those Langsarik prisoners that the Bench specialist had brought to Chilleau Judiciary. Not since the Domitt Prison. More than four years.
    Admiral Brecinn didn’t need to know that.
    Mergau had failed to get the information out of Vogel’s Langsarik prisoners, and Vogel had taken the surviving Langsariks and turned them over to another Inquisitor. She’d been operating under a handicap; she’d been on Record, her actions had been recorded for the purposes of Judicial review. She had not dared subvert the Protocols. This would be different. All she needed were confessions on Record. Nobody would be there to observe how she had gotten them.
    “You’re very sure, Dame Noycannir,” Brecinn said. She didn’t sound perturbed by Mergau’s suggestion; nor did she sound convinced. “It could all come down to some harmless accident. How will we know?”
    Mergau relaxed into the deep curve of the back of the Perand chair. “You’re right, of course, Admiral. It could all be a silly misunderstanding. Nobody’s fault. An accident.”
    Exactly as it had been, in a sense. It was just bad luck that the senseless accident had taken several lives, and would expose some awkward, off–the–record financial arrangements and material transactions.
    “We should evaluate the situation up front with clear and unbiased minds, that’s all. The incident will take investigation. The crew will be interrogated.” At least, in Preliminaries. So long as charges had not been preferred, that was a fairly innocuous process. But charges would almost certainly be preferred sooner or later against somebody. All Brecinn had to decide was whether she was willing to risk those charges against herself and members of her staff rather than some Security crew from a test–bed ship due to be off–lined soon anyway.
    What was it to be? Minimizing the damage, the exposure, the risk at the cost of a few crew from the Ragnarok , or letting delicacy of feeling overwhelm common sense, and the greater good of the majority?
    “There will necessarily be a series of collaterals,” Brecinn noted. Mergau knew by the fact that Brecinn was thinking about it that she was halfway there. “We’re not just talking about four people here. And there’s bound to be Judicial review. Command Branch requires it.”
    “The Bench has other things to worry about right now, and among them is its sacred duty to maintain public confidence in the rule of Law. If anybody wants to ask any questions when it’s all over it’s only going to raise unnecessary issues, and the Bench is going to have its hands full with political stabilization for the next few years.”
    Brecinn wasn’t looking at Mergau any more. She was staring past Mergau’s left shoulder at the far end of the room, her face all but expressionless. “We do need to be here for Chilleau Judiciary when the new First Judge is seated,” Brecinn agreed thoughtfully. “And