59. Paid in full

“Thumb. Thumb” — the heavy gavel marked the start.

Giant of the Stars — concept by Greg

“Thumb. Thumb” — the heavy gavel marked the start.
“Did the jury came to a decision?”
“Yes, your honour.”
“Present your decision, bullet by bullet.”
“One, is ISV, the Giant of the Star vessel’s owner and operator responsible for the accident?” — heavy breath in.
“The jury’s decision, yes, ISV is responsible.”

“Two, is ISV responsible for paying restitution for all person involved in the accident, including their families if the person involved deceased?” — another heavy breath in, the standing juror continues reading the paper in his hand.
“The jury’s decision, yes, ISV is to pay restitution for all involved. The jury suggests mean travel injury and death insurance pay-out times three.” — as the numbers hanged in the room for a moment, media streaming every word, market value of the company already crashed by five percent before the next sentence started.
“Three, does ISV have to pay penalty over the restitution as deterrent for future accidents?” — the usual breath in.
“The jury’s decision, yes, ISV is to pay penalty on top of restitution. Jury’s proposed amount is five times over the insurance pay-out sum.”

John and Victoria smiling as the judge closes the procedure and enters the final thoughts into records. The board member rushes out, visibly already on a call with someone.

In the room only a few knew, the company value was dropping sharply, quarter of their valuation already lost on the public markets as the decisions read one by one.

“Waow! They finished it?” — Victoria’s jaw dropped a bit as she looked up to the magnificent steel structure. — “I always wanted to see it myself, thanks, John!”
“Hold to your thanks, come!” — he smiled only with his mouth, his eyes telling about a different story. They have a lot to talk about after last week.
“I don’t want to wait in line.” — she ran her gaze over the four pillars, following the arches up and down, taking in all the details.
“Not going to, we have a reservation.” — John has never seen Victoria so excited for a building, yet. — “These frenchman pay attention to details, the tower looks just like on the archive photos.”

Few minutes in the scenic elevator ride to the second floor, switching to another elevator and soon they were at the top’s restaurant entry. A well dressed young lady escorted them to their table among rapid excuses.

John didn’t care much as they sat down to the table of six. His mind filled with the topics they need to go through, set some ground rules. His eyes wandering on the horizon without seeing the city of Paris’ vibrant traffic and atmosphere.

“Don’t you wonder what were those lights on the sky just as the lawsuit of the century closed?” — a young, short dark haired guy poised the question to his date next to John and Victoria.

John looked away from the neighboring table, hoping didn’t arouse any suspicion, not in the mood to talk with his newfound “fans” after the televised series.

“Victoria, I think we need to talk…” — this far he got before the waiter cut him short:
“Madmaiselle, monsieur, would you wish some drinks while you wait for the rest of the group?” — he asked in a subtly faked French accent.
“No, we don’t…, wait, the rest?” — John’s puncturing look went back at Victoria. — “You can’t avoid our talk forever. Especially…”
“Captain, Mr. Sotomayor.” — nodded Victoria’s XO as he landed in the chair next to John.
“I am truly sorry, John, but wanted to see Mark as soon as he recovered.” — before he could react she continued — “Ah, and I know you, if I told you, you play the hero by allowing and still be upset.” — and at least we had a few good days before this, she thought to herself.
“Good afternoon, do you have local wine?” — Vince appeared behind the waiter, the sculptor of customer service patience.
“Yes, sir, red or white?”
“Red, full bodied, for everyone.”
“Immediately, sir.”

Heavy silence fell on the little group. John trying to process all what happened throughout the years. He failed Vince when they destroyed the last of his home. Maybe he failed Victoria instead of his understanding of her using him or just she is a calculating commander? What were those things in the courthouse’s corridor?

“Mr. Pier…”
“John, if I may call you John, it is alright. I will never forget the pain, but it is all right now.” — Vince forced a half-smile on himself — “You were right after all.”
“Here is cuvee, year 2543, a customer favourite season.”
“Thanks, can you please give us a bit of privacy, around half an hour? Just leave the bottle.”
“Yes, madmaseille, sure.” — as the waiter left them, Victoria pulled out a small black box, couple centimeters long, like half a centimeter tall and placed in the middle. Everything outside the little group became blurred, the visual change accompanied by a low humming sound. The privacy screen now active, they could continue with sensitive info, nobody can hear them outside of the zone, neither read their lips.
“The shields worked?” — Victoria turned to Mark.
“Perfectly. Well, mostly. They could stop two faster than light torpedoes. With minor damage and casualties.”
“How much?”
“342 injured, 54 fatalities. Ceremony scheduled next week.”
“Thank you, Mark.” — Victoria lowered her head and murmured prayers.
“What shield?” — John’s curiosity peaked. — “None of our shield tech could stop material in the last half a thousand years.”
“The one you theorized. Mr. Pier was leading its development.” — Victoria waved him in to take over.
“Yes, John, you and your team were right, under special circumstances dark matter can be manipulated. We found a way to entrap it with the Alcubierre drives and even to make it form the same zone of effect that destroyed the Giant of the Stars.” — Vince sipped into the wine — “You all like the wine?”
“Yes, it is pretty good, earthy taste. Why?” — replied Mark.
“Nothing. Must be me. So we made the necessary modifications to the Irondome. This tech is revolutionary, will open up new possibilities.”
“Like making all our weaponry obsolete. Especially Earth’s current defense military complex. Except it has some flaws still.”
“What do you mean, Mark?”
“It is still hard to detect dark matter and we can’t create it in any way. So the ship has to collect it with the modified engines and transport it. We could only collect so much, the Steeldome’s new railgun knocked out or nullified some.” — Mark’s turn to sip into the his wine glass. — “Our analysts determined it was enough to allow the second torpedo’s fragments to spread into the ship.”
“This will improve as more researchers, eventually businesses start to work on the tech. Now we can’t keep it a secret anymore after the fireworks show.”
“I agree Mr. Pier. And Captain, what’s next with Haggardt?”
“Already forwarded the evidence we collected, court marshal scheduled in two days. Seems a done deal though, he will be stripped of his ranks and dismissed, I think the GJAG got some courage after the Giant’s trial and wants to push for criminal case.”
“Wait, Mark, you mentioned two torpedoes, but the manifest said more.”
“Yes, we neutralized ten of them before getting into range and two using the Irondome and its shields. Manifest said a dozen torpedoes exactly.”
“But, if the attackers on Earth are the same side who fired the torpedoes, why use all of them, and what were they planning with them if the first attack was successful?” — John started to lift his leg rhythmically.
“Not sure of their motivations entirely. They wanted to shut down the lawsuit and to keep the manifest in secret.”
“Yes, but then they use up all of its actual content to hide itself, that would get them nothing. Something we missed… What else was on that manifest?”
“A few dozen nuclear warheads, thousands of small arms and artillery pieces… Nothing interesting or particularly dangerous.” — said Victoria.
“A few hundreds of years ago, nuclear warheads were our most feared weapons.”
“Yes, but its radiation makes it easy to track today and the complexities to maintain it just makes them inert in a few years.” — Victoria sipping into her wine between sentences — “And none were manufactured over decades as we transitioned to fusion reactors on all vessels and cities.”
“With the right knowledge they can be reactivated. And one could vaporize still a city.”
“Captain, the few logs we intercepted, maybe they talked about multiple targets under codenames.”
“Okey, check it with the analysts, if we find strong connection, we can check around.” — Victoria refilled her glass — “Mark, Vince, was nice to see you both. Vince, continue improving the shields, and prepare for sharing the research data with the relevant federal institutions. Mark, you know your task. Now if you may excuse us, we have a date to continue with Mr. Sotomayor.” — John lost count if she filled her glass once or more. Victoria put away the privacy screen sharpening their environment.
“Breaking news from one of the major colonies. Notifying our viewers, the footage you are about to see is horrifying, please turn off your stream if you don’t want to continue.” — John immediately recognized the shape of the mushroom cloud, the red and white illumination at the bottom and a shape of a horizon.
“This is recorded by one of the advanced weather and crop satellites above New Haven Prime, which was home to two hundred thousand colonists up until this morning.” — all patrons watching now the stream behind the barkeep’s stool in confused and terrified silence. The newscaster continued:
“We got a message and just…. shshshshs…. I am Grand Master of the Swordfish.” — the newscaster replaced by a gray haired, balding man, his sharp green eyes hidden by sunglasses, reflecting the recording equipment. His thin mouth beneath a tall nose smiling like predator playing with his prey. — “We are not responsible for New Haven’s demise this morning. You are. The federation’s corrupt politicians with the top brass of the navy, planned this, and…” — the stream cut off at this point.

Silence hung in the restaurant.

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