Chapter 7 - The Trial of Apex
Three months later.
The Federal District Court in Manhattan was packed to absolute capacity.
Dozens of television crews lined the steps outside, while inside, the courtroom was filled with high-ranking executives, federal prosecutors, scientists, and victims of the Blackwood contamination.
On the witness stand sat Marin Vale.
She wore a neat navy blue dress her mother had bought her for the occasion, her shoes polished, her hair pulled back into a neat braid. Her feet barely touched the floor from the high wooden chair, but her eyes were firm as she looked out at the row of corporate lawyers sitting at the defense table.
The prosecutors had spent two weeks laying out the technical evidence: the mutated strain of Verdant-9, the illegal disposal of industrial waste by rogue contractors hired by former board members of Apex, and the cover-up that had cost Dorian Vale his life.
"Miss Vale," the lead federal prosecutor said, standing near the jury box. "Can you tell the court what happened six months ago, when your father became ill?"
Marin cleared her throat. Her voice, amplified by the microphone, carried clearly through the silent courtroom.
"My dad came home from work, and he smelled like wet earth," Marin said softly. "Nobody believed him when he said he got hurt at work. The doctors said he was just sick. They put papers in front of my mom, telling her to sign them so we wouldn't ask questions."
She looked straight at the jury.
"When I saw Callum in the hospital three months ago, I saw my dad. The doctors had all their big machines and expensive coats, but they didn't see him because they weren't listening. They were looking at paper instead of looking at his throat."
In the front row of the gallery, Alistair Ren sat alongside his son Callum.
Alistair didn't have a legal team defending him—he had pled guilty four weeks earlier to charges of criminal negligence oversight, handing over complete control of the company to a court-appointed public health trust. He wore a simple grey suit, accepting whatever sentence the court would deliver without a single complaint.
Callum looked up at Marin on the stand, giving her a subtle thumbs-up.
When Marin stepped down from the witness stand, the judge called for a brief recess.
In the hallway outside, reporters pressed forward, flashbulbs popping like silver fireworks.
"Marin! Marin! Over here!" a reporter shouted. "Are you going to be a doctor when you grow up?"
May you like
Marin stopped. She looked at the cameras, then at Dr. Silas Reed, who was standing beside her mother, wearing a proud, warm smile.
"I don't know if I'm going to be a doctor," Marin said clearly into the sea of microphones. "But I'm always going to pay attention."
