Simmons opened his mouth, then closed it. He sat hunched in his chair for several seconds, glaring down at the table top, then raised his eyes and looked at McKeon and Longmont almost defiantly.

“Guilty,” he said in a hard, cold voice.

McKeon nodded. He wasn’t really surprised, despite the discussion which had preceded the vote, and he simply looked at Longmont.

“On the charge of second-degree rape, Citizen Admiral Longmont?” he asked.

“Guilty,” Longmont said without hesitation.

“On the charge of kidnapping?”

“Guilty.”

“On the charge of abuse of official authority for personal advantage?”

“Guilty.”

“On the charge of murder?”

“For acquittal, due to lack of evidence,” Longmont said unhappily, and McKeon nodded once more.

“The vote on the first three charges being unanimous, and the vote on the sole capital charge being divided, the president of the court accepts the decision of the court’s other members without casting a vote,” he said for the record. “It is now the responsibility of this court to recommend a sentence to Admiral Harrington, however. The UCC provides for up to twenty-five years in prison for second-degree rape, fifty years for kidnapping, and two for abuse of official authority for personal advantage. By my math, that means Citizen Lieutenant Mangrum is theoretically subject to seventy-seven T-years at hard labor. To impose such a sentence, however, will require his return to Alliance space with us at such time as we leave the planet.”

He didn’t add “assuming we can leave the planet,” but the other four heard it anyway, and he smiled wryly. Then he looked back at Hurston.

“Commander Hurston, what is your recommendation?”

“The maximum penalty—seventy-five T-years without possibility of parole,” Hurston said harshly.

“Captain Gonsalves?”

“The maximum,” she agreed, her expression murderous. “God knows the bastard has it coming… and I only wish we could leave him here on Hell to serve it!”

That wasn’t exactly proper etiquette or procedure, but McKeon had no intention of pointing it out. He simply nodded and turned to Gaston Simmons.

“Commodore Simmons?”

“The same.” His voice was hammered iron, even colder than Gonsalves’, and McKeon looked at Longmont.

“Citizen Admiral Longmont?”

“I concur with the recommendations of my fellows,” she said flatly.

“And so also says the president of the court,” McKeon told them. “The vote being unanimous, this court will recommend to Admiral Harrington that Citizen Lieutenant Kenneth Mangrum be kept in close confinement for the duration of our time on Hell, to be returned with us to Alliance space, there to serve the full term of his sentence. Is there any exception to or disagreement with the court’s statement of its recommendation for the record?”

No one spoke, and he nodded one last time, then sighed and let his shoulders slump.

“Well, that’s one more out of the way,” he said in a much less formal tone, and rubbed his face with both hands. “God, will I be glad when this is finally over!”

“I’m sure all of us will be, Commodore,” Longmont told him, then shook her head sadly and looked at the other three members of the court. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find the evidence to let me agree to hang him,” she said. “But—”