Apocalypse Before Finals, Julie Steimle [black authors fiction txt] 📗

pilot. She goes by the official title of Alea. We had first thought she was a captain of a sort. But we now realize she is more the equivalent to something like a colonel. In our observations and research, we've discovered that many in her military defer to her. And as you have seen from our video footage, theirs is a military to be reckoned with."

Silence swept across the room. Zormna remained stoic-faced, wondering what military footage they had gotten. Their facts were not wrong. As this went on, Jeff lingered between her and the other captives, watching Zormna pensively. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, keeping his eyes more on the PMs than Agent Sicamore. The bailiffs at his side stood incredibly close to him to make sure he could not escape, yet also remained as a barrier between Zormna and the PMs. Zormna's hands, however, were still cuffed, clenched in fists behind her back.

"The issue before us is this: Are they a threat to us?" Agent Sicamore then placed the folders of evidence onto the judge's stand. "You have seen the evidence of the magnitude and power of her military group - the Surface Patrol. But we still have no evidence that this Surface Patrol intends to attack us. In fact, we have a large amount of evidence to the contrary, though they have had plenty of opportunity."

A laugh erupted from PMs across the room. Many eyes in the jury box and audience turned that way, though Sicamore ignored them as he continued on.

"Yet the hostility of this other military is evident," Sicamore said shortly with a peek to Zormna and Jeff then a hard look at the two People's Military officers. The FBI agent turned with a firm glare for them. "All of our evidence suggests that if their People's Military had the means to attack us, they probably would."

Zormna blinked at that thought. Her expression abruptly changed from stoic to extremely ashen. Her eyes flickered to Jeff who looked back to her with an equally pale gaze.

"But as they are internal soldiers, focusing on containing rebellion and not upon interplanetary conquest - for now anyway - I believe our first object of this hearing is to establish the need for an intensive military space defense program, including a response plan, comparable fighter planes and weaponry."

The general group in the jury box nodded in agreement.

"Thirdly," Agent Sicamore continued, almost pacing. "I propose we run an inquisition through our government bureaus and clear out all possible spies as well as disloyal agents. It had already been revealed to us that our agencies have been infiltrated. In fact, we are sure that NASA most especially is full of spies from the Surface Patrol who are working inside the system to sabotage our space program."

He glanced to Zormna's face for a reaction, but her mind seemed elsewhere.  She was now watching the PMs as if she was comprehending something sinister that had never occurred to her before, and she was performing serious mental gymnastics to make sense of it. Her eyes frequently turned to Jeff, exchanging an almost mental conversation. As another rumbling murmur passed through the crowd, the two teens exchanged looks. The noise in the room was so much that it sounded for a second like air hissing from pistons.

Zormna's eyes flickered to the far window. Jeff's followed. And though Agent Sicamore continued to talk, describing critical information which made them both look devious before the gathered government agents, they both seemed distracted by the scene outside the window - which would be nothing more than sky with how high up they were in the courthouse. Catching the attention of a few wondering at perhaps what they were seeing at that angle - be it bird, a kite, or someone jumping from another building - one of the agents rose from his seat and peeked out of the window. Pulling back from it, he looked a little green then quickly went back to his seat, whispering to his seat partner. No one else seemed to notice except for possibly the judge who was watching the teens carefully. He also looked to the window, but his view wasn't a good one.

"...Further, I propose that we hold these two men and the two teenagers in high security confinement," Sicamore said, not yet seeing their distracted gazes. "Any other Martians we discover - we believe - should be registered and confined. We don't how many there are. But after meeting these two teenagers, we have come in contact with over thirty of them directly, and there is an indication that there is more in hiding."

"How about your parents," Jeff muttered - but only the bailiffs around Jeff heard him say that. One of the bailiff's eyes widened then he stared at Agent Sicamore, wondering if it was true.

Zormna shook her head. She leaned toward Jeff to mouth, but the bailiffs pulled her back. Jeff saw her though. He nodded. Zormna sighed.

Agent Sicamore concluded his speech, stepping back for a ruling on his proposition.

Eying to the two 'alien' youths down below, the judge addressed them directly, his voice taking on gravity. "Do you have anything to say before we end this hearing?"

This took Agent Sicamore by surprise, but he turned to see if Zormna or Jeff would respond.

With a nod, Jeff raised his hand as if he were in class. It wasn't handcuffed. "I have something."

Agent Sicamore blinked at Jeff's uncuffed wrist. He caught Jeff's mild smirk as the boy spoke with ease to the room.

"Perhaps you should all reconsider your situation. You see, first of all, we both need to go Home." Jeff motioned over to Zormna and himself. "And second of all, we are all in a pretty bad fix."

The jury box full of aged soldiers and political officials rumbled alive with righteous anger at the impertinence of the young hooligan standing before them. Their eyes raked over Jeff's scarred cheek and nose as if it was proof enough that the Boy was not to be trusted.

But Agent Sicamore understood Jeff's tone and took him seriously. "What do you mean, bad fix?" He marched up to the Boy.

"See for yourself." Jeff politely smiled with a shrug. He pointed at the window while slipping the dangling handcuff off of his wrist as if it were the easiest thing to do.

The room rumbled more with dissent, wondering first how Jeff got loose, and second what the Boy meant. Agent Sicamore crossed the floor to the window, snapping at the bailiffs to hold Jeff tighter. As he passed the two smug-looking PMs and peered out of the glass with half disbelieving thoughts, his hands started to sweat. It took a second gaze to comprehend the view outside - which did not contain a parasailer, or a jumper as he had vaguely guessed. And he stared longer with agony, understanding one thing.  

Agent Sicamore turned around in horror. "Their ships have surrounded the building!" pointing at Zormna. 

Irritably grimacing, Zormna and pushed forward from where she had been held. "They aren't my ships. Look at the PMs behind you. Ask them whose fleet that is."

Jeff nodded to the FBI agent standing near the window not far from Sicamore, the one who had first looked out. That one lifted his chin with a slow nod, meeting the gazes of those scattered about the room within the crowd of agents and political figures.

Swinging around, Agent Sicamore's eyes set on the arrogant expressions on the faces of the two People's Military officers. "Whose are they?"

The two men puffed up their chests proudly.

"Ours," the first and boldest replied with no fear.

With a free hop over the barrier, Jeff walked into the center of the room, attempting to get to Agent Sicamore. One of the bailiffs had tried to catch him, yet as he attempted it, the three next to him held him back, pulling out their sidearm to let him know they were serious.

"Hold him!" Agent Sicamore thundered when he saw Jeff leave the confines of the defendants' bench.

Yet no one did. In fact, most of the bailiffs obeyed when Jeff waved them off... as if he was telling them they didn't need to pretend anymore. Jeff walked up unhindered to the head agent of the Mars Project and stopped by the window, pointing out. "See that? Look at the ships. Do they look like anything you recorded on your spy cameras of the Surface Patrol fleets?"

Zormna immediately joined Jeff's side, let loose by three men from the crowd. Those men were now holding her guards captive while also keeping the rest of the crowd in their seats. Each man held up their semi-automatic hand gun. Another bunch kept the generals and the judge in their seats, apologizing as they lifted their guns to show they were serious. Somehow, the two teenagers had taken over the room.

"Impossible!" Agent Sicamore backed from Jeff and Zormna in complete horror, not sure which to be more upset about - the scene outside or inside. "What would they come for?"

Sounding as if he had an upset stomach, Jeff laughed ironically. "Didn't you say yourself that if the PMs had the means they would take over? Well, apparently they found the means." Jeff then turned from the window, running his hands through his hair. "What a mess..."

Zormna went toward the window to look out, but she stopped in front of the two PMs with a savage glare. "Why are they here? This completely breaks the laws of absolute secrecy and autonomy. This world was to be outside Arrassian rule." 

Both of the PMs snarled at her. "Why should we tell you, you foul Tarrn!" One spat at her, writhing under the bailiffs' grasp.

"This is Zeta jurisdiction!" Zormna bristled, stomping up to them. "My jurisdiction by law. Unless you don't want us to throw you out the window to your comrades, you'll tell me exactly what I want to know."

Agent Sicamore drew in a sharp breath, recoiling from the fifteen-year-old girl with a look to Jeff. Their captives in the seats and jury box grumbled darkly, at what they assumed proof of the evident evil nature of these beings - especially since Jeff didn't seem fazed at all but was almost waiting for her to order it done.

One of the People's Military officers, however, answered her with open spite. "Once we thought all you Tarrns were gone, we thought it was time to claim what was rightfully ours."

Jeff choked on a bitter laugh, rounding on them. "Rightfully yours? Since when?"

Zormna looked disgusted at the P.M. and shook her head. She turned away. As she did, those watching her saw behind her frighteningly green eyes that her thoughts were racing for a plan of action. Reaching out to her, Jeff drew Zormna close for a talk. Then he beckoned others from the crowd into their huddle. The FBI agents and generals watched with surprise as a fair number of reputable operatives rose and joined them in the center of the room. They deliberated for a minute, joined soon by a bailiff and, surprisingly, Agent Sicamore's secretary Marc.

Sicamore stared at Marc, the feeling in his stomach bottoming out -  though Marc just shrugged back at him as if to say 'You should have known.'

After a few minutes talking together in their alien language, Jeff and Zormna stepped from the group and approached the bench where the judge had been sitting like someone had thrown him an extremely heavy sandbag to carry. Jeff bowed politely to the man but then turned to address the entire room.

"I'm afraid we have a problem," Jeff said, sounding more like a man who had addressed numerous crowds before and not the punk kid he appeared to be on first sight. It was transformative. "The People's Military of Arras has surrounded the building - in which Zormna and I feel is an attempt to secure a government facility and not an attempt to capture us in particular. At this point, Zormna