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NOTES: Due to having shoulder surgery, the following was written using a Livescribe Echo Smartpen, and editted with one hand and painkillers :D so it's not perfect, but I've already warned you lovely people that I'm writing for fun.  If I were to get these compiled and (likely self-) published, these would be cleaned up and holes between chapters filled better.  Thanks for reading always!

Preliminaries 04

The name left on that napkin meant very little to Nalia. The warning to avoid everyone with the last name DeCleric was bizarre in itself. How in the world would she find Macrae DeCleric if she couldn't speak to his family? It seemed like a wild goose chase, considering.  Instead of stressing it right then, Nalia decided to take Dennick Sharpe's other advice: get someone who knew "all sides" of her to come to Desai. Her first choice had been Hammond Shuu. However, he was so busy with his new art gallery, he wouldn't be available for some time. The warning to get someone who knew Nalia--all of Nalia--to help her search wasn't lost on her. So a call was made to her world. It would take a day, which Nalia would need. Red's sentencing was the day after her "dinner date", and she was awfully interested in seeing how that was going to go. She had no official role unless Thomas Frenz called on her, but she could be there to watch. She heard Desai criminal proceedings were interesting. Desai judges apparently encouraged media circuses.

And a media circus it was. Red’s sentencing was held at a place called The Court of Watchers, in the region of Cordova.  No one could really say why Nalia smirked anytime anyone said that, but the word ‘Watcher’ carried a very steep weight in her world.  Steeper yet in other worlds she’d heard of.

Cordova was all high end business and living, full of sweeping sky scrapers; expensive homes and shops. The Court of Watchers was just as rich and grand, made of grey and gold granite, along with massive stained glass panes telling the stories of many different worlds. Large statues telling their own stories lined a front yard and fountain that was currently filled with press and onlookers, waiting for Red's arrival.

The crowd was loud and impossible to penetrate by the average citizen or visitor. Fortunately, Nalia's travel pass could be scanned at the police line, and it told them that she had been part of the escort party that brought Red in from Earth-52C*. "Just stay to the left," warned the police officer. "You'll be escorted in with the rest of permitted personnel when it's time."

"Thank you," Nalia said politely. She nodded to the officer respectfully as she passed on by.

The police of Desai were as unique as the city itself. Their uniforms were black, heavily armored, and covered in weapons that changed from person to person. The weapons were damn intimidating. She wondered if she could make a friend in the police force to learn why the only standard weapon they seemed to have in common was their handguns.

She'd work on that once her plate was emptied.

Thomas Frenz was standing at the doors when Nalia arrived there. He offered a wave and headed to meet her halfway. "I didn't think I'd see you here," he said with a small but distracted smile.

"Oh really?" she mused. "And miss what apparently is going to be something for the record books? Even here in Desai?" She turned and gestured out to the crowds flooding in front of the Court of Watchers.  The crowd was even starting to move onto the street, causing an issue with traffic.

"Well, you have a point," Frenz conceded. "You do like the big ones. I did learn a few details about standard sentencing of the guilty here that you might find interesting."

"Tell me about it?" Nalia encouraged with a smile. She did like hearing about that sort of thing, hence no questions from Frenz about her private meeting at the Travel Agency.  Otherworldly procedures were good things to listen to and learn about.

Frenz went back for his spot waiting near the doors. "There is no death penalty, to start with," he said. He glanced around at the other legal officials and members of family belonging to Red's various victims.  "Essentially, he will live out his days working, and the money he'd make as a free man will be dispersed amongst children or spouses of his victims."

"That's going to not amount to much, Thomas," Nalia said. Red had several hundred known victims.

''He'll likely receive a life sentence," Frenz pointed out. ''And a juggernaut like him can take on jobs that'll pay enough."

"What if there was a living victim?"

"You know, I was wondering about that," Frenz admitted. He finally looked back to Nalia. "There was a case I found while looking into it last night. About a year ago, a man attacked three people in a car out on Highway Four.  Killed one, nearly killed the driver, and kidnapped the driver's sister. He had her for a year, doing all sorts of horrible things to her. Since the woman killed had no kids and was dating the driver, nothing went there. But her brother receives now about fifteen percent of what the guy's work makes, and his permanently scarred sister is basically taken care of until he dies.”

"Or she does," Nalia said with a frown. "I imagine it takes some victims to a lot to accept something from their victimizer." Post-traumatic Stress Disorder was a cruel monster in and of itself.

"Apparently, while the victimized know where the money comes from, the deposits simply say they're 'social welfare'," Frenz said, although he had nodded to Nalia's comment. "It's a pretty good system."

"It helps give reason behind Desai's amazing economy,” Nalia remarked.  If there was one thing Desai was renowned for, it was that it had a very, very stable and wealthy economy.  Of course, it had a diplomatic network a size unfathomable even to someone like Nalia and her people, so she was sure trade was ample.  More than likely in Desai’s favor too.  A place as wealthy as Desai needed to give very little to needy worlds to get them to agree to something much more.

''Our world could learn a thing or three for sure," he replied, not thinking nearly as deep about it as his employee was.

Just as Frenz said that, the two sets of large granite doors that led into the Court of Watchers opened to allow the permitted audience waiting just outside to enter. Nalia was ready to follow, but the crowd surrounding the building erupted into a louder, angrier mess than before. The police convoy toting Red to his hearing had arrived.

In Artania--hell, most of the United States where Nalia came from--Red would have likely been brought in through another entrance. It proved that they seemed to enjoy the media circus, however. The press and angry onlookers put on a scene that looked more suited for the movies than reality. Screaming, profanities, and police swarming in droves to push back the masses as Red was walked out of a heavily armored vehicle.  It reminded Nalia of military-level hummers from Earth, only it was painted in the black and stark blue colors belonging to the Desai police force, along with the silver scribing that belonged to them as well.

Red was in a white jumper, his upper body encased in steel plating, lit in the seams with red lighting. It was a device to keep him under more complete control than the massive gauntlet-like shackles that the Artanian police force had used.

The group of officers wasted no time to get Red clear from the group of people amassed outside. By the time they reached the doors of the building, most the allowed audience was in and past the main lobby. Nalia was still there, however, standing straight and stoic. Red didn't miss her presence, looking at her as he passed by. He shook his head slightly, causing Nalia to wonder... a lot of things. How did he connect the dots between Nalia Inez and Naty Inanna? How did he know to warn her, when Agent Dennick Sharpe did exactly the same?  Why did he even care?

Hopefully that Macrae DeCleric had the answers she was looking for. Hopefully.

In the actual courtroom, adorned with tapestries from different worlds, Red was taken to stand before a trinity of judges.  Since he pled guilty, there would be no trial, simply sentencing and immediate execution of that sentencing.  The lead of the trio, an older woman easily in her fifties, said nothing as cleared witnesses to the sentencing were screened for weapons and directed towards their seats, or when the attorneys for and against Red took position on each side of them.  Her eyes were fixed on something hidden in front of her.  Probably details on Red.  He had quite the laundry list of sins.

Once all were settled and the judge on her right and left called the courtroom to order, she looked up to Red.  She pulled off her reading glasses and folded her hands together in front of her.  “I’ve been advised that you’ve pled guilty to all charges brought forth by MDEA and the International Criminal Proceedings Counsel,” she said.  “Is this correct?”

“Yep,” Red said casually.

The judge tilted her head, curious about his frank attitude as opposed to offended.  Really, it had to be something to a place where someone like Red was a celebrity through his crimes, to have him standing right there.  Nalia took note of it, anyway.  “Well then, let’s go over what exactly you’ve pled guilty to.  Once I’ve finished, I will ask you once more to confirm.  You have one chance to accept trial, or to plead guilty.  Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Red replied, still calm and casual as he looked around the massive courtroom, filled on two levels with onlookers.  He looked back at Thomas Frenz and his group and winked, before returning his gaze to the judge (whose name was Jimneson, Nalia heard someone murmur behind her).

Judge Jimneson lifted a paper up, placing her glasses back over her face.  “Accused Red, you stand today before the Trinity of Watchers within the Court of Watchers, accused of a multitude of crimes.  These crimes include 298 counts of first degree murder, one hundred of those belonging to the category of a single case of mass murder.  Thirty-two counts of mass destruction of public property, and eleven counts of destruction of private property.

“This is an inter-world offense.  The worlds that have brought forth these accusations are Desai, Earth 52C-starred, Lita 1A, Polai, Earth 10A, and Earth 5B.  Six worlds, and a total of 341 crimes that are not inclusive of the bundled murder sprees we could place on your ledger.”

“There’s no point, is there?” Red asked.  He smirked a bit, which got the crowd of the courtroom buzzing.

Unlike Earth, the ‘Trinity of Watchers’ seemed to not care at the outburst.  Jimneson folded her hands together over the desk and watched Red until the crowd quieted on their own.  “No, it doesn’t.  How do you plead?”

“Guilty,” Red said with a proud squaring off of his shoulders.  “Read me off my punishment and toss me away in the Millial Prison.”

Jimneson seemed interested and baffled all at once.  She leaned back in her seat.  “We, the Trinity of Watchers, sentence you to life in prison with no alleviation from devices that restrict your abilities to a manageable degree, and you will work to support any surviving spouses and offspring of those you took from this life.  This begins immediately.  Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Red replied firmly, but with a slightly playful attitude that was unmistakable.

He was something else, Nalia resigned.  And he was something else with apparently a point to make with her.  Since the sentencing was really rather uneventful, followed by tearful statements from surviving victims of his and the survivors of his victims, Nalia was left to think about how she couldn’t wait for the next day.  She had a big puzzle to figure out, and he was part of it.

***

Back at the Travel Agency, but not so she could leave Desai, Nalia found herself pacing back and forth as she waited for her friend's arrival. She was dressed in business casual clothing including a comfortable black skirt.  Normally, she did slacks, but Desai was pleasant at an almost consistent 76 F.

''There she is!" a cheerful, airy voice piped from the checkpoint leading out from registering for travel passes.

So familiar was that voice, Nalia spun in the direction it came from, holding her arms out immediately for a hug. A tanned woman ran over, jumping into that hug with all the energy she always had, for as long as Nalia knew her. Chase Laine, publicly known in their world as Pangaea, was a notable and fantastic celebrity. As a teenager, she became known by the world for her powers. Fans dubbed her Earthgirl. But at twenty-eight years old, Pangaea was more mature and still fit her abilities, all based on environmental standards.  She could manipulate the energy around her, and sometimes that manifested as control of fire or wind.  There were other abilities too, that gave credence to the type of names she used.

Beyond all of that, she was a cheerful longtime friend of Nalia and Hammond both. She was more than happy to help. "So, any luck on looking for this guy?" she asked immediately after releasing Nalia.

"No," Nalia admitted. "Things have been happening awfully fast. I only got here two days ago."

"Jesus, two days?  And all of that happened?" Chase asked as she busied with pulling up her long locks. She looked like such a superstar, glamorous and fit for the movie screen, though she couldn’t act for anything. "I could never handle all of that." She was pretty lazy at times.

''It's been hectic," Nalia sighed. She started for the exit, knowing fully well that the large duffle on Chase’s back was all that she brought with her. It took work during college, but they eventually taught Chase that she didn't need five suitcases for weekend trips.

"So, we need to try to find this Macrae DeCleric. Any idea where to even start?"  Since Nalia had no time to start on her own.

"Center-City was really all that the agent said. I'm sort of hoping the way you have with people would come in handy," Nalia said. She grinned and went to loop arms with Chase, who accepted the hold with a smile.

"I see, you just want me for my glamor.  You should have called Kaidan, though. He's been dying to see you.”  Kaidan Fait was another of their group, and a good man from another world within their universe, much like the entire group but Chase.  "The thing I'd like to know," Chase said in a considering tone, “is why you didn't pick Tony?"

"Anthony and I haven't spoken in years, Chase," Nalia said. "Longer than the two of you had been broken up."

The question about the man named Anthony was legitimate. The answer wasn't entirely so. Anthony was a public entity as Chase was. Anthony Smith, also known as Valiant Horus, was demasked the day before their high school graduation nearly eleven years prior. Since then, his abilities had grown until he became a powerhouse with literal cults worshipping him as the god Horus. Considering the situation, Chase was brighter, louder, and would be harder to detain if things were as dangerous as both Agent Sharpe and Red were making it out to be. The governments in their world had issues with Anthony that they didn’t with Chase, which would be the key to getting her help out of danger if it became necessary.  Nalia just didn't believe it was solely about her and her alone.  She needed to think strategically and for the safety of those she called upon. The decision to call Chase in was the smartest Nalia felt she could make.

Unfortunately for Nalia, it was a no-win situation no matter who ended up involved.