“Then this court makes a mockery of justice.”
Another murmur ran across the room, but this time it was edged with surprise and perhaps a hint of anger—both undoubtedly due to the mere thought of anyone daring question the integrity of the process.
“Guards,” the speaker said. “If she speaks again out of turn, gag her.”
So much for the integrity of the process, but I guess with Dream basically in charge of the Department of Home Defense, the likelihood of true justice happening had always been minute.
The speaker dismissed the witnesses, and once Charles had resumed his position, finally called Hedda Lang onto the witness stand. Metal glittered on her wrist as she stepped forward, and it took me a moment to realize what it was. She was wearing one of Nuri’s charms—the one that protected her from the attacks of both a magical and psi nature. It obviously didn’t curtail the nature of the spells that protected this room, but it would make it damnably difficult for Nuri to attack her magically if and when both she and Jonas got here. Of course, Nuri might also be curtailed by the room’s spell work.
H
edda presented all her so-called evidence of my crimes, including the video Charles had mentioned, and another of the search of my apartment that had resulted in finding the guns and my old uniform.
When she’d finished, the prosecutor said, “And what sentence are you asking this court to approve for these crimes?”
Dream looked directly at me, and said, with more venom than even Branna had flung my way, “Death.”
Another murmur ran around the room. Karlinda raised a hand before the speaker could intervene, and silence instantly fell.
“The crimes, as grievous as they are, do not warrant such a sentence, Director Lang. Unless you can provide this court with more evidence, the penalty of death cannot be requested or applied.”
Hedda’s answering smile was a cold and evil thing that chilled the very core of my being.
“If the court so wishes, I ask that Doctor Jason Harding be called onto the witness stand.”
My heart began beating a whole lot faster. I very much suspected what was now coming, and I feared it. Feared the response of both the people and the machines around me.
A call immediately went out and, after a few minutes, a small, bald man appeared. He looked ill at ease with all the attention suddenly on him, but nevertheless strode to the platform without faltering. Once there, he took Hedda’s position on the witness stand and, when the prosecutor asked for his professional qualifications, said, “I’m the director of the Bernstein Laboratories.”
“And your connection to this case?”
He glanced at me and my heart sunk. I’d seen that look before—it was the same sort of expression the scientists in the HDP creations labs got when the latest bonding experiment proved successful. In the professor’s eyes, I wasn’t a flesh and blood being, but rather a sum of DNA that needed to be taken apart and very carefully examined.
“Doctor?” the prosecutor prompted.
“Ah, yes, sorry,” he said. “We were asked to process and report back on some DNA samples by Director Lang.”
“And is that not outside of normal procedure?” the prosecutor said. “Home Security has its own crime labs, after all.”
“Yes, but there were irregularities in the DNA sample they could not explain, so they asked us to investigate further.”
“And this DNA—did it belong to anyone in this room.”
“It was marked as belonging to Catherine Lysandra.”
The prosecutor unnecessarily motioned to me. “And what conclusion did you come to?”
“That her DNA is something that has not been seen since the war,” he said. “It tells us she is neither human nor shifter. That she is, in fact, déchet.”
Rhea help me, I thought, and closed my eyes, waiting for the hail of bullets that would end my life. The energy of my two ghosts buzzed around me, ready to protect me though not even they could prevent every single gun in this room from firing, let alone protect me from the subsequent rain of metal.
But there were no gunshots, just a chaotic tumble of noise that was both disbelief and fear.
“Enough!” Karlinda’s voice rang out clearly over the pandemonium and silence again fell. “That is clearly impossible, Doctor. All remaining déchet were rounded up and erased in the aftermath of the war. It is simply unthinkable that any could have escaped that net.”
“And yet the results of our tests cannot be argued with,” the doctor said. “I can bring in as many of our technicians as you desire, but the test result will remain the same. Her genome sequencing is unlike anything we’ve seen, and it matches the very few HDP records that do remain.”
“Are you, beyond a doubt, certain of this?”