At the outset, no one believed his innocence. No one believed him when he registered his plea as not guilty in the matter before the Magistrate, not even his family. That had hurt a lot. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he had been stunned by the whole sordid affair.
He spun the ring around his finger, the habit becoming more annoying the longer he thought about his past. Beneath the wide ring was a permanent mark. Five letters identifying him to anyone who glanced at his finger. MCVIV.
Maximilian Cornelius Vandervere the Fourth was the name he’d been saddled with at birth. The Vanderveres were one of the wealthiest families on Alpha-Prime, if nottherichest. He’d been known as Ilian for the whole of his life until he came to Earth.
New start, new life, new name. He became Max Vander because he didn’t want anyone to know who he’d been. Even if there was only the slimmest chance of recognition from any Earthlings here or, worse, snotty Alphas, he planned to avoid it.
Bubba, Astrid and all of the new Alpha friends he’d made on Earth had been nonjudgmental about his past. It was refreshing. His employers, as well as all the other personnel at Bubba’s Psychic Readings, agreed not to mention his past and he’d been appreciative.
The incidenton Alpha-Prime had nearly broken him. He’d been railroaded into a prosecution because of his wealth and status before they discovered he was innocent.
The Magistrate in charge of his prosecution released him without fanfare. Also, no apologies for almost putting him in a gulag by mistake. But Max hadn’t cared. He was free. The air never smelled so sweet as what was inhaled “after” he was out of jail.
He returned to his house expecting to be the recipient of joyful hugs from parents grateful to learn he’d been exonerated and reinstated back into the life he’d dearly missed. Instead, he’d received a chilly homecoming. His parents had frowned and quietly looked away the moment he stepped inside his childhood home, acting as if they wished he hadn’t returned.
The servants greeted him politely, but also looked away as if ashamed to be in his presence and scurried away from him, keeping themselves busy whenever he approached.
At the end of the first day home, his parents led him to the library for an unexpected talk to explain his new reality and why he was being treated like he had a raging case of crust fish fever, the most contagious and horrible disease on their planet.
“I don’t understand. What’s going on? I’m innocent. It was proven decisively that I didn’t do what I was convicted of and it’s also been deleted from my record.”
His father shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The damage was done to our good name the moment you were accused, arrested and detained. The prosecution, even though it’s been revoked, might as well be stamped on your forehead.”
Perhaps that explained why they hadn’t visited during his imprisonment. His father had come to the punishment pronouncement day, but walked out when the twenty-year gulag sentence had been revealed. Twenty years in a gulag was as good as a death sentence. Unlike on Earth, where he’d read a lot about what it took to be incarcerated, there was usually no early release from a gulag for good behavior.
Max had been crushed more by his father’s desertion than the sentence, which had been soul-killing.
His barrister had been worth every single credit as he looked under every grain of sand on the planet and discovered an independent video that vindicated Max. It showed the fire-starting device Max had supposedly used to set an official building ablaze, reducing it to rubble and injuring several citizens, had been dropped in his pocket by the very woman who accused him of starting the fire.
His accuser had ended up poisoned and in a coma in an unrelated accident. Max was certain that had he not been in jail by then, he would have been accused of that crime, as well.
With each heavy chain-bound step toward the intergalactic prison ship headed for gulag XkR-9, Max’s heart had shriveled a little bit further. Ten paces from the ship’s outer hull door, he heard shouting from behind him, recognizing his barrister’s overloud voice, screaming that he had release papers for Max. He’d almost sagged to his knees in relief. Max had literally been pulled out of the prisoners’ line mere steps from complete ruin.
After Max’s release, a notice was put across all planet-wide media, letting everyone know he hadn’t committed the crime and a verified video showed he was blameless.
While the story of his innocence and release hadn’t attracted as much attention as the initial story of his arrest, incarceration, trial and prosecution, at least Maximilian Cornelius Vandervere the Fourth was vindicated everywhere. Except by his own family.
“I don’t understand,” he told his parents in the library, staring from his mother to his father. “I was framed for a crime that I did not commit. They found not only a film of the woman framing me, but another showing I couldn’t possibly have done it. I was on the other side of town. And it’s over now. I was exonerated. They put it in all the media. I saw it everywhere.”
“Still doesn’t matter,” his father said gravely. “No one believes you didn’t do it.”
“Why not? Ireallydidn’t do it.”
His mother spoke up. “Everyone believes that we used our wealth and power to secure your release. No one in our circle of acquaintances and friends believes you didn’t buy your way out of this trouble with a staged video or two. It’s truly upsetting, Ilian.” His own mother couldn’t look him in the eye, even though she used the nickname he’d had all his life.
Staring at their cool, remote expressions, the truth dawned on him. It was clear they both wished he’d gone to the gulag instead of returning home, even if hewasinnocent.
It was like living in an alternate reality, wishing this was some big practical joke at his expense. He’d waited for a punchline that never came.
After a few months of being treated like a cantankerous sand-claw beast that had taken up residence in his own home, he could no longer stand his self-imposed house arrest and left his home to walk around some his favorite places. He ran into an old friend and saw a glimmer of hope.
Riker Phoenix was the first to greet him with a smile, a firm handshake and a slap on the back. “I heard about your narrow escape. I’m glad you were found innocent before making it all the way to the gulag. It’s harder to get out of there once incarcerated, regardless of your innocence and the complete reversal of your sentence.”
As Alpha-Prime’s top law enforcement official, Riker—known by his title, The Calderian—would be aware of just how complicated that could be.
Max was so grateful to see a friendly face he invited Riker to join him for dinner. He made the mistake of choosing one of his old haunts. In the days beforethe incident, the staff at the popular eating spot had treated him with gratifying deference. The fact Maximilian Cornelius Vandervere the Forth dined there made it one of the capital city’s most in-demand restaurants. Post incident, he only made it through the door because they wouldn’t dare turn away The Calderian. The snooty wait staff watched Max like he was a criminal about to abscond with the silver.
Riker was appalled to learn how Max had been treated, but told him even his lofty position likely couldn’t change anyone’s opinion. “I’d be willing to try, if you want. I can certainly chat with your parents.”
