Free Senescence (Jezebel's Ladder Book 5) by Scott Rhine

radiation at the Saturn
nexus?”
    “We
wouldn’t have.”
    “Hmm.
Whoever did it had the ship’s plans. They knew just where to hit it to blow the
oxygen tanks and murder the crew.”
    “So
you admit this was a revenge mission?”
    “I’m
done here until you do your damn job,” Stu said. “Goodnight.”
    An
older man with sunken cheeks and pallid skin entered the room, his suit several
sizes too large. He wore a Homeland Security badge with a blank space where the
name should have been. “You’re done when we say you’re done!”
    Stu
said, “Touch me, and I’ll trigger my theta state. Good luck questioning an
unconscious man.”
    “It’s
okay,” Onesemo said to the visitor. “We have enough to charge him tomorrow. We
need him conscious to stand in front of the judge at his hearing.
    The
pale man nodded. “Once we successfully file, scheduling the trial will take
another three months. During that time, we can question him as often as we
want. Good work.”
    The
nurse chased all the officials out. She offered Stu painkillers, which he
refused. In addition to avoiding drug reactions, he wanted to be lucid for his
court appearance. When her shift was over, she wrote her home link address on a
piece of white medical tape. Nurses are sure dedicated .

Chapter 8 – Preliminary Hearing
     
    Eventually, the feds had compromised on letting Stu wear
some of his own clothing for the hearing—the Hawaiian shirt and baggy, black
pants that hid his leg wounds. His handcuffs were bound to his leg shackles in
a way that made rapid movement impossible. The Saturday emergency hearing was
delayed for hours. No one would explain why. He tried to meditate in the corner
of the courthouse holding cell while his guard paced. The pain radiating
from me must be driving him up a wall. Good.
    Stu deliberately rubbed the shackle
against his shin to increase the pain. “You’re as much a prisoner in this place
as I am.”
    Onesemo glared at him. Today he
wore no hat or watch, and his hair was trimmed into a shape that reminded Stu
of French poodle photos. “Who else is still aboard Sanctuary ?”
    “Anything I have to say, I’ll say
to the whole world in that courtroom.”
    “Oh yeah?” The guard made a call
into his sleeve. “Well, now there’s no media. National security can work
wonders.”
    “A judge will dismiss most of your
bogus charges at the preliminary hearing,” Stu insisted. At least that’s
what Yvette claimed. “Any charges left will be read at the arraignment.
Before I submit my plea, I’m guaranteed access to a lawyer. Then I get a bail
hearing.”
    “You have no way to pay for bail.”
    Stu decided to push some buttons to
find out what was really happening. “Is your name Japanese or Italian?”
    “American Samoan,” the guard said,
peeved.
    “Really? But your first name is
Tony.”
    “Atoni.”
    “Are you Catholic or Protestant?”
    “None of your business.”       
    We’ll assume that’s a Catholic,
but lapsed. “Dad always said that if Jesus ever came to Rome, they’d never
let him in the place. He’d be thrown in jail just like the first time.” He
focused on the rage he had felt when chiseling the gravestones for most of Ascension’s crew. “Like you’re doing to me.”
    “Are you comparing yourself to our
Lord?” Anger roiled off Onesemo. It tasted like the time Stu had stuck his
tongue on a battery.
    “Why? Are you planning to crucify
me?”
    The guard had pulled back a hand to
smack his defenseless ward when the old spook opened the door. “Stop it. He’s
messing with you to collect bruises and sympathy.”
    Onesemo shook his head and slowed
his breathing. “Sorry. His pain is driving me nuts.”
    “Do you have a name,” Stu asked the
agent with the blank ID, “or should I call you Geppetto, the puppet master?
Where do you put your hand to make him talk?”
    “Call me Rayburn,” said the man in
the loose suit. He pulled a roll of duct tape out of his pocket.