"Commander Wilkes, you seem to be asking Ensign Sinclair why he answered to the best of his ability a question put to him by his commanding officer. Captain Wakeman asked Sinclair what their orders said regarding his discretion to act. In response, Sinclair provided the information his commanding officer asked for. As my mother always says, 'what're you gonna do?'"
"That's right," Captain Feres agreed. "What was Ensign Sinclair's alternative? Are you suggesting Sinclair should have refused to answer, or provided information he believed to be incorrect?"
Commander Wilkes smiled briefly. "No, sir. Of course not. But if Ensign Sinclair's advice contributed to the course of action followed by Captain Wakeman, then that would motivate Ensign Sinclair to attempt to exonerate Captain Wakeman and, by extension, himself."
Fowler frowned, looking at his fellow officers to either side. "That seems like a real Catch-22 to me, Commander. If he gave his captain bad advice, then he's indeed guilty of contributing to these unfortunate events. But you're saying if he gave his captain good advice, or simply advice which to the best of his knowledge accurately reflected a portion of the orders under which they were operating, then he's still guilty because he'd be motivated by a desire to exonerate himself. Your line of questioning doesn't seem to leave Ensign Sinclair any proper course of action to follow. I repeat, what're you gonna do?"
Lieutenant Commander Garrity turned to face the judge. "If it please the court, I'd like to stipulate that during the verbal exchange in question Ensign Sinclair gave Captain Wakeman a response which to the best of his knowledge accurately reflected the information in the relevant portion of their operating instructions."
Commander Wilkes shook his head. "I would object to such a stipulation, sir."
Holmes twisted one corner of her mouth, looking towards the members to gauge their feelings. "I'm not willing to declare that Ensign Sinclair's advice was necessarily correct, but there's a presumption it reflected a reasonable interpretation of the
Michaelson
's orders unless the trial counsel is willing to provide evidence to the contrary. Do you intend to present such evidence, Commander Wilkes?"
"No, your honor. I am not prepared to do that."
"Very well. Objection sustained. Commander Garrity's objection, that is. You may continue your questioning, Commander Wilkes."
Wilkes eyed Paul for a moment, his face hardening. "Ensign Sinclair. You've indicated you have little legal training and little fleet experience. You earlier stated you dislike your captain personally and professionally. Your department head expressed dissatisfaction with your performance as one of his subordinates. Are you prepared to state why you believe your testimony has any value compared to the other witnesses who have appeared before this court?"
"Objection. Trial counsel is harassing the witness."
The judge looked to the members once more. "Do the members of the court-martial believe the witness should be compelled to answer this question?"
Admiral Fowler nodded. "I'd certainly like to hear Ensign Sinclair's reply."
"Overruled. The witness is directed to answer the question."
Paul hesitated.
And it's a real good question, isn't it? Why should anyone care what I have to say? Not enough experience and a lot of screw-ups in the little experience I have had.
He still didn't look around, still afraid of what he might see on the faces of the others in the courtroom.
Jen believes in me. I hope. Does anyone else. Do I? Ever since I reported to the
Michaelson
I've been wondering whether I can handle this. Whether I'm good enough. Whether in a couple of more years I'll be another Jan Tweed, hiding from my bosses and from myself.
Reporting to the
Michaelson
. Worried. All too aware of his inexperience. The first member of the crew he'd encountered, the man who'd brought him across the gangplank to the quarterdeck for the first time. Senior Chief Kowalski.
"You're doin' okay, sir. I think you're a good officer.
" Even as he recalled that brief bit of praise, Paul knew it held the answer he wanted. Paul looked straight at Commander Wilkes. "I believe my testimony has value because I am an officer in the United States Navy, sir."
Wilkes stared back for a long moment, then turned away. "No further questions."
Judge Holmes looked to Lieutenant Commander Garrity. "Do you wish to redirect?"
"No, your honor. No further questions."
"Do the members of the court-martial wish to question Ensign Sinclair?"
"I do." Admiral Fowler regarded Paul for a moment, while Paul tried to fight down dizziness born of mixed tension and relief that the bout with the lawyers was over. "Ensign Sinclair, what was your major at the Academy?"
"International Relations, sir."
"A bull major, huh?" Non-technical majors at the Academy were always labeled bull majors on the assumption that unlike hard science they primarily involved something similar to the end product of a bull's digestive process. "I guess you did a lot of reading."
"Yes, sir."
"Do you figure you're an expert on language as a result?"
"No, sir."
"What about legal language? Do you understand that real well?"
Paul swallowed before answering. "No, sir. Not real well. Enough to get by."
"You seem to have some pretty firm opinions about what those orders meant. How do you square that with what you say is your lack of expert language abilities?"
For some reason, that question caused defiance to flare briefly in Paul. "Sir, I didn't think operational orders were supposed to require experts in legal language in order to understand them."
Fowler's eyebrows rose for a moment. "Do you get along well with your superiors, Ensign Sinclair?"
"I . . . try to do my job, sir."
"What about Commander Garcia? He's your department head, right? Has he ever chewed you out?"
That had to be the easiest question he'd been asked. "Yes, sir."
"Did you deserve it?"
"Often enough, yes, sir."
"But not always."
"No, sir. I don't think so."
"Do you have trouble understanding orders given to you in the course of a normal work day?"
"No, sir."
"What would Commander Garcia say?"
"Sir . . . Commander Garcia has . . . expressed a different opinion on occasion."
"But not always."
"No, sir."
"You're ship's legal officer, so you also work for Commander Herdez. If I hauled her back onto the witness stand, would she say you can understand and execute orders?"
"Yes, sir, I believe she would."
"What about your own enlisted? If I brought them in here and asked them, would they say you know how to issue clear and understandable orders?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do they respect you?"
"I believe so, sir."
"Do they like you?"
"My enlisted, sir? I . . . have no idea."
"You've never asked them?"
"No, sir!" Fowler settled back, a small smile briefly forming.
You tried to trap me, didn't you, Admiral? See if I was being professional with my enlisted, maybe if I'm really professional at all. I'm glad I didn't have to think about my response. But was Fowler impressed or just amused? Was he just playing with an ensign who stuck his neck out
?
Admiral Fowler looked around. "That's all for me. Anybody else have questions for Ensign Sinclair?"
Captain Nguyen leaned forward. "Ensign Sinclair, have you ever made any mistakes?"
That one was easy, too. "I've made a lot of mistakes, ma'am."
"What about this decision? To testify as part of Captain Wakeman's defense? Suppose Captain Wakeman is found guilty of all charges regardless of what you testified, and suppose as a result you are tarred with the same brush and find your naval career effectively terminated before it had barely begun. Will you regard this as mistake?"
Paul stared silently at Captain Nguyen for a moment before replying, trying to fight off the sick feeling her question had brought back to full life. "No, ma'am."
"You wouldn't be unhappy?"
"Ma'am, I'm already unhappy." It wasn't until the members of the court all reacted that Paul realized his blurted reply could be construed as humorous.
Captain Nguyen smiled briefly, then turned serious again. "Ensign Sinclair, do you hope to ever serve under Captain Wakeman again?"
"No, ma'am."
"Not in any capacity whatsoever?"
"No, ma'am."
"Suppose Captain Wakeman is exonerated as a result of your testimony and returned to duty, and you received orders to serve under Captain Wakeman again. What would you do?"
Paul hesitated again, then suddenly knew without looking that Commander Herdez's eyes were locked onto him, awaiting his reply.
Herdez is a good officer. Hard as hell, but good. What would someone like Herdez, a good officer, say
? "I would serve under him and attempt to carry out my duties to the best of my ability, ma'am."
"Even though you've testified that you neither like nor respect Captain Wakeman? Why would you do that, Ensign Sinclair?"
"Because . . . because my duty isn't to Captain Wakeman as an individual. My duty is to the United States Navy, ma'am."
"I see." Nguyen looked toward Admiral Fowler. "I'm done."
Judge Holmes thanked Paul, then excused him as a witness. Paul stood carefully, worried that his legs might wobble, and made his way back to his seat.
Garrity stood as Paul sat down. "The defense rests."
"Lieutenant Commander Garrity, will Captain Wakeman be availing himself of pre- or post-Gadsden trial procedure?"
"Post-Gadsden, your honor."
"Very well. The court-martial is closed, and will reconvene at thirteen hundred in this courtroom for Captain Wakeman's statement, followed by closing arguments."
Paul waited, listening to others leaving, before he stood and made his way out of the court room. He was vaguely aware of some of the senior officers still standing in the room, and as he turned into the central aisle found his path blocked by Commander Herdez, who was talking to Commander Sykes. "By your leave, ma'am."
Herdez turned her head, saw Paul, and stepped aside so he could pass, her expression still revealing nothing. "Certainly, Ensign Sinclair."
Paul went out the door, took two steps to the side to clear the entrance, then fell back against the bulkhead behind him.
It's over. For me. One way or the other. I hope
.
"Where have you been?" Jen was there, eyeing him with an enigmatic expression. "How long was I supposed to wait out here?"
"I didn't know you were waiting."
"You think I'm going to let you wander around alone in the state you're in? You're a wreck, Paul."
"Is it that obvious?"
"It is to me. You probably fooled everyone else."
"I just hope it accomplished something."
"I'd be willing to bet it did, but regardless, you did what you wanted to do." Jen leaned close enough to whisper to him. "You're good, Paul. And I'm not just talking about last night."
"Really? You think I did okay?"
"Last night or just now?"
"Jen! Just now."
"You're not supposed to discuss your testimony with anyone, Ensign Sinclair." But Jen smiled approvingly, then moved away a little before speaking in a normal voice. "You got any lunch plans? Or are you going to sit in the court room through lunch again?"
"I think I feel like eating today."
"Good. Some of us are heading for Fogarty's. You in?"
"Sure."
In addition to Paul and Jen, "some of us" turned out to be Bristol, Meadows, and Denaldo. Jen took a seat across from Paul, then waved dramatically toward him. "Our hero."
Meadows grinned. "So, Paul, how much fun was that?"
"My fun meter is pegged, Carl. Right off the scale."
"I know you can't talk about what you said, but how'd it feel up there on the witness stand?"
Paul smiled and shook his head. "I wouldn't recommend it unless you wanted to know how it feels to face a firing squad."
"Yeah. I bet. They could have at least offered you a blindfold. I'm glad no lawyer asked me what my department head thinks of my work. Or what I think about my department head, for that matter. What was that bit about Wakeman having a choice of pre- or post-Gadsden trial procedure? What's that mean?"
"It's the way the next phase of the trial is handled. Used to be military trials would finish with the defense and prosecution making their final arguments, and the defendant wouldn't make a statement of any kind until after the court-martial members announced a verdict."
"Huh? What's the point of the defendant not making a statement until after he's found guilty? What good does it do then?"
"It was just supposed to affect his punishment. You know, stuff like I'm an orphan and I didn't really do it and even if I did do it I didn't mean to do it. The punishment he'd be sentenced to wouldn't be determined until after the defendant made a statement."
"That still sounds lame," Carl observed.
"Yeah. That's what Gadsden was about, I guess, whether or not a defendant could make his statement before the verdict was reached. They ended up doing the Solomon thing and sort of splitting the difference. The defendant gets to decide. That way he or she can't complain if their statement goes over the wrong way."
"So Wakeman's going to swear he's innocent of all charges, huh? That ought to be interesting to watch."
"Maybe. Maybe not. I really don't know what he's planning on saying. Garrity may not either. And Wakeman doesn't have to make a sworn statement. He can also make an unsworn statement. That is, he'd be giving his side of things but not swearing that what he's saying is true."
Bristol looked puzzled. "Why would anyone do that?"
"Because if they make a sworn statement they can be cross-examined on it. You can't be questioned about anything you say in an unsworn statement. It's a Fifth Amendment thing. You know, the right against self-incrimination."