It Happened One Week

After two hours of deliberation, the jury returned to the courtroom and took their seats.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” asked the judge.

“We have, your honor.”

“Would the defendant please stand?”

Roberto Denizzo stood alongside his attorney. He cast a vicious glare towards the jury that made it abundantly clear what his intentions were going to be depending on how the verdict went. The lead juror gulped and looked back down to his notes. “We the jury,” he said with much anxiety in his voice, “find the defendant, Roberto Denizzo, guilty on all charges.”

A murmur went through the crowd.

“Roberto Denizzo,” said the judge, “you have been found guilty on three counts of first-degree murder, for which Lord Uzi has approved you being sentenced to death. You will be granted two months to make an appeal before the execution is carried out.” The bailiff approached Denizzo, handcuffed him, and led him out of the courtroom. The assembled audience in the room, in amongst their chattering and whispering about their surprise, made their gradual way out of court.

“I’m glad that’s over,” said Bernard Roe as he exited the room. “I hate going up on the witness stand and testifying. Especially when a man’s life is on the line.”

“A murderer’s life,” corrected Vanessa Cuarón. “Our testimony helped bring about justice.”

“I still hate it. You seemed a lot more comfortable up there than I did.”

“I’ve done my fair share of tattling. If it serves the greater good, I’m all for it. I just wish we could’ve presented proof that Denizzo was connected to the Rubicino gang. Just one guy taking the fall for those murders doesn’t feel like enough. Someday we’ll get the whole organization.”

The Rubicino gang had existed on and off for nearly two thousand years, beginning on Earth in the underground tunnels where humanity resided in the aftermath of the Great Accident. Their founder, Alpaca Rubicino was a classic gang boss who set the template for all great gang bosses to follow. Throughout the years, his persona had grown larger than life, and stories about him were elaborated more and more until no one knew any longer what was truth and what was fiction. It became inevitable that, after the current iteration of the Rubicino crime family died out, within a few years another would pop up claiming to be the legitimate successor. By now the truth was so murky that no one could confirm or deny the validity of the claim, but anymore simply going by the moniker “Rubicino” won the respect and fear of those around. It was rare that anyone who dared to cross the Rubicino gang would live to tell the tale.

By testifying in public court, Bernard and Vanessa crossed the Rubicinos.

Their hope was to provide testimony that would not only convict Denizzo of the triple murders, but also incontrovertibly tie him back to the Rubicinos, and in doing so they would get the protection of the Brewtanian authorities. As the court only accepted their testimony on Denizzo himself, they were now on their own.

Walking down the long marble steps of the courthouse onto the main street, Bernard kept mulling over the story in his head, trying to remember if there was anything he was missing, anything he could have shared that would have connected the murderer to the larger organization.

“Keep walking,” Vanessa whispered. “Act natural.”

“What?” he whispered back. “Why?”

“We’re being followed. Looks like the Rubicinos aren’t wasting any time on their revenge.”

“Can’t be. There’s no way they would attack in broad daylight. Not in front of the courthouse.”

“No, but the moment they have an opportunity they certainly will. We won’t be in public forever. Even if they have to trail us til we split up, they’ll follow you home and kill you there. Same for me.”

“What do we do then?”

“Duck into that cafe. It’s busy. I’ll call some law enforcement.”

They made a beeline for the nearby restaurant, took a table in the most crowded portion of the dining room, and Vanessa made the call.

“Brewtan emergency services? This is Vanessa Cuarón, I’m calling from … yes. The same Vanessa Cuarón who was testifying in the case, and I … ok, yes, I’m glad you saw me and … what? Yes, my boots were expensive. Would you pl… no I’ve never done a calendar photo shoot, I’m sorry. Now listen, I’m being stalked by the Rubicino gang, can I please get some backup? … What do you mean? … Look, just because I haven’t actually been attacked doesn’t mean it won’t happen.” She sighed as her head sunk into her palm. “No, I don’t have proof it’s the Rubicino gang. But come on, this is Brewtan! What other criminal organization do you h… no, I understand.”

She hung up and stared Bernard in the face. “They have no legal cause to act. Looks like we’re on our own.”

He thought for a moment. “Let’s get on a ship. A good, well crowded ship, and fly somewhere else. Who might be more inclined to believe us?”

“I can’t think of anyone. No matter where we go, the same problem will await us. No proof. I know we’re being followed, but me noticing the same people in the crowd a few times is hardly conclusive.”

“Any bodyguards we could recruit?”

“Maybe. Let me think.”

As Vanessa thought, they couldn’t help but notice the cafe starting to empty out very quickly.

“What’s happening?” Bernard asked.

“Do not panic,” announced a uniformed figure walking against the rapidly exiting crowd. “Please continue to exit the building at a slow pace, nobody panic.”

“I do not like the looks of this,” Vanessa muttered.

“We will disarm the bomb as soon as the building is cleared!” he shouted to those leaving the building. As the tables around Bernard and Vanessa cleared, the uniformed figure approached. Inside the folds of his coat, Vanessa caught a glimpse of light reflecting, as though off the blade of a partially concealed knife.

“Scram!” Vanessa shouted as she and Bernard jumped from their table and ran. The man announcing the bomb threat pursued, along with the men Vanessa had noticed before. “Just great!” she shouted as they fled the scene. “If we keep to public areas they try flushing us out!”

“Over here!” Bernard countered, pointing to a large building. Sixty-four stories high, crammed with every possible kind of building and tenant, about half of which were government offices. It would be an easier place to hide. Bursting through the front doors, they were greeted by a vast expanse of a main room. Stairs and elevators splitting off in every direction, with booths, stands, cubicles, and information kiosks everywhere the eye could see. Even better, queues. Thousands of people standing in incomprehensible queues winding their way all through the room. Bernard grabbed Vanessa by the hand and dragged her into the most confused looking line he could find.

“Keep your head down,” he said as they lined up and tried to blend in. To his satisfaction, several more people came directly behind them and stood in line as well. This was about as well disguised as they could get for now.

“Here comes trouble,” Vanessa whispered as the small gang of men who had been pursuing them entered the front doors. They split up, with most of them heading for the stairs to higher floors. “There’s a small relief,” she added, noting with great displeasure that two still remained on the ground floor, and had begun to weave their way through the crowds, trying their best to not raise suspicion.

“Just don’t attract attention,” Bernard suggested. “If they do spot us, try to think of a good distraction.”

“Like screaming ‘fire’ or something?”

“That may get us trampled to death, but yes, something to that effect.”

As they inched along the queue, the two men scanning the crowds kept missing them, but one was getting closer. The other retreated to the front doors and waited. From his vantage point, he could likewise see the row of doors at the back. All exits were covered.

“If we’re spotted, the safest choice here is to make a break for the back doors,” Vanessa whispered. “He’ll see us but I doubt he’d be able to catch us in time.”

“Worth a try,” Bernard answered as they finally got to the front of the line.

“Fill these out please,” said the clerk who passed two papers over to them. Name, citizenship, and address. Fine. They took their papers and hastily filled them out. Anything to stay disguised.

“By the power vested in me,” he continued in a monotone, “by the Galactic Civil Authorities, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Next!”

They froze. “Sorry,” replied Bernard, “what did you ju-”

“*Next!*” called the clerk with an impatient emphasis, sliding a stamped certificate across the little counter towards them.

The raising of the voice caught the attention of the man by the doors.

“He’s looking our way,” Vanessa said, grabbing at Bernard’s arm and pulling him away. “We need to move! Back door!”

They broke out into a run and were instantly spotted by their two pursuers. Leaping through the doors to get outside, Vanessa pointed to the spaceport next door. Running inside, they flashed their return tickets and jumped onto the first ship they saw that was nearing departure time. Bernard stood resolutely by their transport’s entrance to keep watch and make sure they had shaken off their tail. No one followed them, and soon the doors shut and the ship took off for the interstellar highway. Panting and exhausted, Vanessa took her seat.

“Chaotic day,” Bernard said as he sat beside her.

“Do you have any idea where this ship is headed?” she asked.

“I think the sign said Rumania.”

“Oh, that’s convenient. I’ve always heard Rumania is a good honeymoon destination.”

“Ah yes,” he replied. He hadn’t yet had time to process that development. “If, um … huh. I don’t know. Is that legally binding?”

“Sure looks like,” she replied, perusing the certificate they had been given.

“Well. One thing at a time. How about we survive this first? Afterward we can get that looked into. I’m sure a good lawyer could work it out.”

“I always wanted my husband to have a good clear head during times of stress.”

“Please cooperate.”

“Of course, honey,” she said, patting his hand. He pulled his away.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” he replied.

“It’s just so much fun to watch you squirm with embarrassment.”

He turned away from her and looked out the windows on the other side of the vessel. Rumania. That should be a safe place to hide out for a while. Nobody uses IDs or cameras there.

“I hate to say it,” Vanessa suddenly said, in a serious tone of voice, “but maybe we could call Niiz K for help.”

“I thought you swore them off after they left us for dead on Capulum.”

“Working for them, yes. But maybe I can buy their protection. If there’s profit involved they may not be concerned about the legality of it.”

“Whatever you think is best.”

She pulled out her comm device and hesitated, staring at it for a long time. Then with a sigh, she entered a code to call one of her contacts.

“Hello Vanessa,” came an unfamiliar voice.

“Who is this?” she asked.

“That needn’t concern you. But you should know your comm device is extremely easy to hack into and take over. Not to mention activating the tracking system. Good to see you heading towards Rumania. Maybe you can have a pleasant time there.”

She shut off her comm device and hurled it onto the floor. “Gimme yours!” she ordered Bernard, who handed it to her. She dialed again.

“Bad move,” answered the same voice from before.

She screamed in a rage and hurled Bernard’s device away too, accidentally hitting another passenger on the back of the head. “Well those are useless.” She tapped her earpiece. “Mateo, please tell me you recorded those conversations.”

“Props to you,” came the same voice once more, “this connection was much harder to break into than the others. We weren’t quite able to locate the caller on the other end before they disconnected themselves.”

In a final act of frustration, she tore her earpiece out and stomped into oblivion. The entire crew and passengers of the ship were staring at her.

“Don’t mind her,” Bernard said. “It’s our wedding day.”

# # #

The Rubicinos knew they were headed for Rumania, so immediately upon arrival they boarded another ship and backtracked halfway to Brewtan, diverting over into the Pendeross system. They were careful to use only the physical money they had, not using anything electronic that the Rubicinos could use to track them. They knew as well that the Rubicinos wouldn’t try freezing their accounts, as that was something that could be used as evidence against them. Bernard and Vanessa just needed a way to access their bank accounts without it being noticed, but no matter what they tried to think of, they soon found a reason it wouldn’t work. They needed to live off the grid. They traveled to the fifth planet of the Pendeross system, the most recently terraformed and least developed. It had cabins for rent in the woods. Perfect place to hide out and brainstorm.

“Mateo clearly knows you were hacked,” Bernard said. “The guy told you someone on the other end disconnected. That means Mateo, and it means he’s aware what’s happening. Is there any way he can help us?”

“Probably, but right now I have no way of knowing what it is.”

“He can find us and contact us easy enough. He’s tracking you through the device in your shoe, right?”

“Nope,” she said, showing him the missing heel on her boot. “I tore it off and threw it away at the Rumanian space port. If the Rubicinos could hack into my direct comm link with Mateo, surely they can get into my GPS.”

“So he has no idea we’re in Pendeross now.”

“None.”

“Well we don’t have much money left. We have to decide what we’ll do next.”

“Sleep on it?”

“Sure,” he sighed. It had been a very long day, with more than its fair share of surprises. Just that morning he had been providing testimony in a court case, and now, eleven hours later, he was being hunted by a crime syndicate and had passed through three solar systems. He’d never traveled so far in so little time before in his life. With overwhelming relief he lay on the bed and faced the wall.

“Hey,” Vanessa said from the other side.

He didn’t reply. She looked at him more closely. He was already asleep.

# # #

“Well that’s not good,” said Vanessa as she looked up at the television monitors. They had gone into the nearest city to buy food for their cabin when the screens in a nearby window caught their attention. Okain Studios was announcing an embezzling operation in which two suspects, Bernard Roe and Vanessa Cuarón, had been siphoning money through their accounts and into another one that was discovered to have belonged to the Echarie.

“So they did get into our accounts,” Bernard mused. “Just not like we expected they would.”

“This simplifies things for the Rubicinos, doesn’t it? Now they don’t have to worry about getting rid of us. Now galactic law enforcement will do it for them.”

“The two suspects,” continued the anchor for Okain News, “are rumored to have been lovers for many years now…”

“Ick!” shouted Vanessa.

“...and reports are showing that, just before they went missing, they apparently obtained a marriage license from a civil authority clerk in Brewtan. Possibly a crime spree honeymoon? Stay tuned for more developments in this ongoing story.”

The camera panned to shots of people already cheering for them. “It’s just so romantic!” cried one. “You don’t find such glamorous love stories anymore!”

“You know,” said Bernard, leaning against the wall, “when I left home two days ago for the trial, this is not how I expected it would end up.”

“Pigs!” spat Vanessa. “Trying to connect us to the Echarie! Who’s the only gang in the galaxy worse than the Rubicinos? Echarie!”

“I think to say ‘gang’ is an understatement. If half the stories are true, they’re practically a shadow government.”

“tHeY’rE pRaCtiCaLLy a sHaDoW gOvErNmEnT!” replied Vanessa.

“Ok, you can calm down a little. Where does this leave us?”

“No money, no communications, and now instead of hiding from a syndicate, we’re hiding from everyone. We need to prove our innocence, and if we can do that, we can prove someone is manipulating our bank accounts, and if we can prove that we can lead the authorities right to the Rubicinos.”

“There! Solutions! Isn’t it better when you think rationally instead of biting back at everything people say?”

“iSn’T iT bEtTeR wHeN yOu…”

“Alright I’m leaving.”

Back in their cabin, Vanessa shouted in a triumphant voice. “I got it! How to prove our innocence!”

“I’m listening.”

“We’re now classed as fugitives because everyone believes we were helping fund the Echarie, right?”

“Right.”

“So who can prove we weren’t?”

“The Rubicinos who did this to us.”

“Besides them.”

“I … our moms?”

“No! The Echarie!”

“I fail to see how this is leading to a good idea.”

“Come on, the Echarie know they have no connection to us. They’re probably as confused as we are! We contact them, explain what’s happening, and see if they can help us!”

“So our current, major problem is we’re being associated with the Echarie. And your proposal is that we get even more associated with the Echarie?”

“Ah, but you see, we’re currently being framed and the false charges are being publicly broadcast! When we *really* work with them, the Rubicinos won’t know and therefore can’t spread it. We do the crime to be deemed innocent of the crime.”

Bernard’s head was spinning. “I guess I don’t have any better ideas.”

“Of course you don’t! My idea is brilliant! No further ideas necessary!”

# # #

The problem now became how to contact the Echarie. With the minute amount of funds they had remaining, they traveled to the city again and sought out a public comm service. No sooner had they stepped onto the main streets, they were recognized. They tried to flee, but police officers jumped them and dragged them into the station where they double checked their identities.

“What a break!” said the youngest of the officers. “Ten minutes into the shift and we caught the criminal sensations of the year!”

Vanessa hissed at him, but inside was very pleased that she had now been known as a criminal for a mere day, and yet was already considered a sensation. Outside the police station, lining the windows, were small groups of people holding signs that had the word “Banessa” encircled with a heart.

“This story *just* broke,” Bernard wondered aloud. “Why do they already have signs?”

“Not to mention a celebrity couple name,” Vanessa added. “And not a good one.”

The officers, ignoring them and the crowds, dragged the two into an interrogation room and started to question them about their activity with the Echarie.

“I’m sorry,” Vanessa protested to the two officers seated across the table from her, “but isn’t there a legal provision that prevents me from having to testify against my husband?”

“Oh no,” Bernard muttered as he sank in his chair.

“Don’t worry honey, I got this.”

“There’s no sense in denying it,” said the older of the two officers. “Everything is plainly laid out, every transaction, down to the quin. We have it all.”

“These supposed transactions didn’t happen to suddenly start yesterday by chance, did they?”

“Of course they did, as you should know.”

“Explain to me how this makes sense,” Bernard shouted with more anger than he had expected to hear from himself. “There’s exactly *one* transaction from each of us to the Echarie right when we vanish. Sending a load of money *out* of our accounts over to someone else? Why would anyone in their right mind *remove* money from their own accounts if they intended to go on some romantic crime spree like the news is claiming?”

“Look, I’m not here to judge your motives, I’m here to show you how much proof we have of your actions. It’s up to you now to cooperate with our investigation.”

“Worst honeymoon ever,” Vanessa complained.

Before Bernard could speak again, the wall of the interrogation room burst apart and threw everyone to the floor. Masked men with heavy weaponry poured in, grabbed Bernard and Vanessa, and were gone before the officers could get onto their feet.

# # #

Black hoods were torn off their heads, finally allowing them to see. They were in a small room with all black walls. Surrounding them were two dozen masked men, armed to the teeth, and seated before them was an aging man.

“I believe you wanted to see us,” he said.

“Who are you?” Bernard asked.

“Exactly who you wanted. The Echarie.”

“How did you know we wanted to see you?” Vanessa asked. “We just decided that hours ago.”

“We have ways.”

Vanessa began to fear they had made a terrible mistake.

“So money was taken from your bank accounts and sent to us,” the older man continued. “Against your will of course. And the Rubicinos are in pursuit of you for putting away one of their men. A very unfortunate situation, to be sure. So what would you like the Echarie to do for you?”

“Whatever you can,” Bernard said. “It was bad enough when we were in danger of their reprisal, but now we’re fugitives from the authorities too. We need everything set straight before the Rubicinos ruin us for good.”

“Of course,” said the aging man. “This will require a fee on our part.”

“Our money is kinda gone,” Vanessa replied. “You have it.”

“You can have it all back. Money is not what we want. Our organization runs on information.”

“What information could we possibly have that you wouldn’t already have?”

The old man shrugged. “That’s for you to figure out. Let us know by tomorrow. You can spend the night here, all your needs will be provided for. Let us know in the morning if we have a deal.”

“In the meantime,” Vanessa interjected, “can you send us our money back? It kinda threw a huge wrench in our plans when the Rubicinos made that transaction on our behalf.”

“Rubicinos?” the old man asked. “No, they didn’t do that.”

“Wait, then how did it…”

“Check the origin of the signal that began the transaction and you’ll see it came from Tsukonia, not Brewtan.”

She snapped her fingers. “Mateo!”

“I don’t believe it,” said Bernard as it dawned on him. “He figured out your plan before you did.”

“He saw the Echarie could help us better than anyone else, so he got their attention. The dork.”

“I’ll thank him later for getting us arrested.”

“Eh, we were un-arrested almost immediately, so it’s hardly a bother.”

The Echarie led them to their room for the night. A dull room that matched the ongoing tone of the other rooms, black and dull gray. This room was clearly meant for short term necessity, not long term hospitality. For hours they wracked their minds for something of value they could offer the Echarie, but to no avail. At last, Bernard announced he was going to bed and lay down. Vanessa sat next to him.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he answered her. “Why?”

“I think I know what to offer the Echarie tomorrow.”

He was concerned, but didn’t question her.

“Hey,” she said again.

“Hmm?”

“In my entire life I never really wanted to get married or anything. But if it had to happen … I’m glad it was you.”

He lay still in the silence. In another moment, she lay down and fell asleep.

# # #

“Have you decided what to offer us?” the older man asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Delightful. What is it?”

She turned and looked at Bernard with a measure of sorrow in her eyes. “This man,” she said, pointing at him, “was part of the mission into the Tempest system.”

“Yes,” the old man replied, “we are aware of that.”

“Then you’re also aware he was recently taken into custody and interrogated.”

“Yes…” he said, getting more eager with each moment.

“I’m assuming you don’t know what was said during the interrogation.”

“Correct.”

“Good. That room was shielded with everything we could possibly think of. Bernard had a spy device implanted in his brain and we had to block it from broadcasting anything back until we could remove it.”

The old man nodded.

“How would you like unfettered access to his mind?”

Bernard inhaled sharply but didn’t protest. Trust Vanessa, he reminded himself.

“Here’s what you missed from the interrogation,” she continued. “He doesn’t know what happened in the Tempest. Nobody does. When he was there, false memories were implanted in his head for specifically this purpose. But it was a rushed job. They had to install safeguards in his mind so that when he touched on an edited memory, it would cause tremendous pain in his head. Which means … I’m willing to bet the original memories are still in there somewhere. Repressed for sure. But in there.”

“Let me get this straight,” the man from the Echarie responded. “You’re offering to let us take him, root around in his mind as we see fit, and in doing so become the only people in this galaxy who will know what really happened in the Tempest? What the Dynasty are truly planning?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

He clapped his hand. “Excellent. We shall do so, and in exchange we shall see to it that the Rubicino gang stays off your backs. For good.”

“Even if your exploration of his brain turns up fruitless?”

“Indeed. We will do this for you simply for the chance you’re giving us.”

Without a word a guard brought Bernard to his feet and led him out of the room. He looked back, and saw Vanessa staring miserably at the floor.

# # #

Vanessa paced the room. It had been half the day and Bernard was still gone. At least seven hours had passed since they carried him off. Surely they were done by now. Neural exploration was an experimental field to say the least and there was no telling what damage it could cause. But she had gambled. Out of anyone in the galaxy, the Echarie would have the best method possible for this kind of brain scan. Or so she hoped.

The door burst open and two guards dropped Bernard to the floor, and they exited. She dropped to the floor and checked his eyes. He was half conscious.

“Docky! Are you okay?”

“Been better,” he croaked. “It wasn’t quite the worst pain I’ve ever felt.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. “I should have thought of something better.”

“I can honestly say,” he said with a hollow chuckle, “you’re the worst wife I’ve ever had.”

The old man entered the room without a knock. “The deal is done. We’re handling the Rubicino situation as we speak.”

“Did you find anything?” Bernard asked through the strain in his voice. “Anything to make the operation worthwhile?”

The old man froze. Vanessa noted a look of horror in his eyes. “We did.”

“What did you find out?”

The old man turned to leave the room. “I hope for your sake you never have to know.”

# # #

After the most confusing and hectic week of his life, Bernard and Vanessa finally had their names cleared. The money was returned to their accounts, and the Echarie arranged things so that to all the galaxy, it looked as though the Rubicino gang had made the transfer of money so as to frame them. It was an easy lie to believe. In the highly publicized case a week ago, Bernard and Vanessa had repeatedly alleged a tie between Roberto Denizzo and the Rubicino gang, so now to the public it seemed plausible that the Rubicinos framed them as part of their revenge. With the refocused attention on the Rubicinos, Brewtanian authorities were taking a closer look at the gang and arrests were starting.

Vanessa very cautiously helped Bernard back into his house. He was still recovering and his motor functions weren’t fully back yet. “Everything is taken care of,” she said as she eased him onto a chair in his library. “The bank accounts, the legal standing, it’s all good. Except of course,” she added as she sat in a nearby chair and pulled out the marriage certificate, “for this little guy.”

“Ah yes,” Bernard muttered.

“On the ship to Rumania you mentioned contacting a lawyer to look into it. You want me to schedule an appointment? I know a few.”

He sat in silence and thought about it. “I’m just so tired today. I’d rather we do it tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, for sure. Tomorrow is better.”

Silence.

“I mean,” he continued, “unless we’re still wiped out. It was a rough week. We’ll still being recuperating tomorrow.”

“Oh, absolutely, I couldn’t agree more.”

Silence.

“Though being realistic,” she added, “won’t you still be recovering from your weird procedure in two days? I bet it’ll be a week at least. I definitely don’t want to rush your recovery.”

“Oh no,” he agreed, “not at all. It would be at least a week…”

“...or two.”

“Right, or two before I’d be able to make that appointment.”

Silence.

“Shoot,” she said, “you know what I forgot?”

“What?”

“The reporters.”

“The reporters!”

“Yeah. They’ve been clamoring to get a statement from us. I got eighteen offers today alone. I think that would be our priority once you’re better.”

“Makes sense. The people have a right to know what happened.”

“Exactly.”

“So we’re agreed then. We’ll make the appointment to see the lawyer after all of that is done.”

“Yup.”

“Absolutely.”

Silence.

“Yep.”

Silence.

“Unless we forget.”

"Yep."

END