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Authors: David Gerrold

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BOOK: A Covenant of Justice
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“I have no choice but to recognize the authority of this court. Reluctantly, and under protest, I have done so. Reluctantly, and under protest, I must also accept the court's ruling. You consider it justice that the Markhams use my body to extract a cure that I allegedly promised. Fair enough. At least as far as it goes—”

“As far as it goes—?”

“Does the court also demand that the Markhams extract this punishment at the expense of my good health?”

“Dr. M'bele has assured me that he has every concern for your welfare—”

“Your honor, with all due respect—I believe that I know much more about Phaestor physiology than a backwoods juju-man. The fact remains that the present course of this treatment threatens my life.”

“I don't see how—”

“Then I'll explain it in terms that even you can understand. This treatment drains my strength, without replenishing it. Dr. M'bele and the Markhams have denied me access to an appropriate diet for my metabolism.”

Justice Reconsidered

“I beg your pardon?” Harry Mertz stared across the salon of the starship, wondering exactly what kind of legal quagmire he had just stepped into.

Lady Zillabar explained calmly, “Your ruling allows them to systematically starve me to death. Without my regular diet, I will not gradually weaken and die. I request that you expand your ruling to mandate that the Markhams must
guarantee
my continued good health.”

“Hm,” said Justice Mertz. “Would you please give me the punch line on this? What exactly do you want the court to do?”

“Thank you.” The Lady nodded. “I wish the return of my property, for one.” She turned and pointed directly at Ibaka, the dog-child, sitting contentedly in the hands of Kask, the Dragon. “That pup belongs to me. While I do not have it here, I do have a bill of sale to prove that I purchased him and his litter-mates on Burihatin-14. The Dragon who holds him witnessed the purchase. Furthermore, that same Dragon served as an attendant for the pups during transit and delivery, so he can confirm my claim to ownership.”

At these words, Ibaka began whimpering and squirming in Kask's hands. The Dragon began rumbling deep in his throat.

The Lady ignored them both. “I see that the pup has gained quite a bit of weight since I last saw him. He would sustain me for many days, certainly until we reached the Gathering, at which time, I feel confident that I can find many other sources of appropriate nourishment. In the meantime, since you have already established the precedent that you will take one person's blood to guarantee another's welfare, then I demand the return of my property so that I may use its blood to guarantee my welfare.”


Oy vey
,” said Harry quietly. He put his head in his hands and asked himself why he had ever allowed himself to accept this particular honor. Wearily, he picked up the gavel and began banging on the desktop. “Order, order,” he demanded. The uproar in the salon did not subside. “Order! Goddammit! I'll have order in this court or you'll all take a one-way trip out the nearest airlock!”

At the back of the chamber, Kask rose to his feet, holding the dog-child close to his chest. “By the great god Ghu, you will not have this child!” he roared. “I swear on my honor as a Moktar Dragon that no harm will come to this dog-boy.”

Harry looked to Zillabar annoyed. She smiled sweetly at him and reseated herself to wait for order to return to the courtroom. Lee-1169 stood screaming incoherently at Zillabar. Sawyer and Finn had begun shouting arguments at Harry; they turned to Three-Dollar and repeated their words. Nyota wept and wailed in Azra's lap. She resisted all attempts by M'bele to pick her up and comfort her. She beat at his chest. Even the normally placid Ota had taken on a menacing air.

Finally, Harry turned to Captain Campbell. “Would you do something, please?”

Captain Campbell motioned to Shariba-Jen; the robot raised its voice to a level several decibels
above
the threshold of pain and shouted, “EVERYBODY SHUT UP.”

It worked. They shut and stayed shut. Astonished at the depth and range of Shariba-Jen's voice.

“Thank you,” Jen said.

“Thank you,” Harry repeated. “Everybody calm down. Just because the Lady makes a demand does not mean that the court has to grant it.” He looked unhappy, but he continued. “On the surface, yes, it does appear that the previous ruling sets a nasty precedent. However, this court finds that ruling specific to the nature of Finn's disability and does not have relevance to Madame Zillabar's current claim.

“Yes,” he acknowledged. “the situations do have a certain similarity, but let us not let the similarity blind us to alternative possibilities. While no alternate source of treatment exists for Finn Markham's condition, I think that we can certainly find several excellent alternate sources of appropriate nourishment for Madame Zillabar. As Madame Zillabar has traveled aboard
The Lady MacBeth
before, it seems likely that Captain Campbell retains more than a passing familiarity with the Lady's needs.”

To the Phaestor queen, he said, “Without ruling directly on the preexistent claim of ownership, this court cannot allow you to advance your claim to the dog-child's blood. For one thing, the child may have witnessed several serious violations of the Regency charter which we may wish to investigate later. For another, your claim to his blood does not give you the right to kill him to collect. Therefore, I must dismiss this petition as invalid. Additionally, I will leave open the possibility for Ibaka to bring a claim against you and the Regency for involuntary slavery.”

“Hmpf,” said Zillabar. “I care little for the feelings of prey. Food does not get to have opinions.”

“Yes,” said Harry. “We all know your opinion about the opinions of others. However, you have raised an interesting issue that this court feels compelled to examine—the question of the dog-child's ownership. If you wish, we can settle this now. On the other hand, if Madame Zillabar prefers to wait and raise this issue again at the Gathering, I feel certain that we can reach a resolution there.”

Justice Mertz looked directly at Zillabar. “Once again, however—and at the risk of upsetting you—let me inform you that should you bring any such claim to bear at the Gathering, the courts will also demand evidence about the fate of Ibaka's siblings. I will insist on that myself. This will of course involve reopening the question of Lord Drydel's activities at the time of his death, so at this point, if you wish to avoid that unpleasantness, I recommend that you reconsider your claim to the person of Ibaka.”

“Other than the fact that you have just legalized the theft of my property,” Zillabar retorted, “I have little interest in the dog-child.” But she nodded in resignation. “All right. I relinquish my claim to it. But I wish to go on record that your actions here confirm what I already suspected—that I cannot expect fairness from this court.”

“On the contrary, Madame, this court has strained itself mightily to treat you with every courtesy and consideration possible.”

“Yes, and in the meantime, I die of hunger. You have the gall to call that consideration? I cannot eat the manufactured food on this ship. It tastes foul to me. I need blood. Real blood. Warm and hot. Human blood preferably, but bioform blood will do nicely too.”

Harry looked to M'bele, who nodded. So did Three-Dollar, and even little Nyota.

At this, Sawyer Markham stood. “Your honor—this affects your previous ruling. If the Lady doesn't feed, she won't have the strength to save my brother. She has to have food—”

From the back of the room, Kask roared again. Lee started screaming at Sawyer, “Now you take her side?! Now we see how long a Markham's commitment lasts—”

Reconsidered Justice

Justice Harry Mertz couldn't remember the last time he had seen such a great game of “Let's Have An Upset” in a courtroom. And . . . it did not escape his attention that the Lady Zillabar looked extremely pleased with herself as the argument raged around her.

About the time the head of the gavel broke off, Harry stopped trying to call for order. Shariba-Jen had hollered three times and no one had paid attention. Harry shrugged and stood up and prepared to leave, but Captain Campbell motioned him to sit down. She reached over to a brinewood panel, opened it to reveal a hidden control, and punched it hard. Almost instantly, the ship's sprinkler system switched on, spraying everyone and everything in the salon with a high pressure mist of extremely cold water. Very quickly the screams of anger turned in to screams of shock and outrage and then laughter.

Captain Campbell counted to ten, then reached over and switched the sprinklers off. “Does anyone else have anything to say?” she asked loudly. “The Justice has not adjourned the hearing. We will have order here—either the nice way or the not-so-nice way. You choose.”

Harry reseated himself behind the table that served as his desk. Shariba-Jen handed him a new gavel—Harry looked at the robot in surprise, but Jen remained expressionless. He waited until everyone else had also quieted down and reseated themselves; most of them squelched when they moved, an effect that Harry found amusing, considering the circumstances.

“Your honor—? May I speak to this issue please?” Finn Markham asked, rising weakly to his feet.

Harry looked at Finn, surprised the man could even stand. He nodded.

Finn Markham looked a hundred years old. He had to support himself by leaning on his brother's shoulder. Sawyer placed his hand on top of Finn's, but otherwise let him stand alone. Finn painfully levered himself around so he could address everyone in the room.

“I know that this situation came about because of something my brother and I did. We didn't realize the consequences of that action then. We've learned a lot better since, and we've done our best to repair the damage that we've caused. Nevertheless, nobody in this room owes either of us anything. We don't expect anything. We have no right even to ask for anything. . . .” Finn's voice failed him for a moment, but he waved away Sawyer's support. He turned back to the table, reached for a glass of water, and took a long careful drink. He nearly dropped the glass, replacing it on the table, but he retained his composure and faced the room again.

“We have come late to the Alliance of Life, but if we can learn what it means, then perhaps anyone can. Everyone can. We have learned the true meaning of brotherhood from all of you in this room. I would hope that you have seen us return that gift.” Finn glanced downward at Sawyer. “My brother even told me how he experienced a sense of brotherhood with Lee-1169, a man who has lost over two thousand brothers. I feel such pride in that knowledge.

“My brother has already donated three pints of blood to feed Zillabar,” Finn said, surprising everyone. “M'bele will not take any more of his blood; it would endanger his life too. I have only one chance to continue the treatment I need. If everyone aboard this ship could donate a bit of his or her or its blood, then we could continue to feed Zillabar, and I could continue to benefit from the cleansing effects of her liver.” Finn wavered where he stood, but he grabbed tightly onto Sawyer's shoulder and spoke with desperate sincerity. “I will not blame you if you refuse. I would not give one drop of my blood to feed Zillabar—and she has already taken more of it than I care to think about. But if Sawyer's survival depended on my willingness to give, I would give everything I have left. And if the survival of any other person in this room depended on my willingness to give, I still wouldn't stint. Thank you—for listening to what I had to say.” He sank gratefully back down into his seat.

Harry Mertz looked around the room. The silence had become embarrassing and uncomfortable. This one stared at the ceiling, that one stared at the floor, the other one coughed into her hand, the last one pretended to have important business on a clipboard. Zillabar looked smug. Harry felt annoyed—but the source of his annoyance remained unsure. “I hate it,” he said softly, as much to himself as anyone else, “when my enlightenment gets tested.”

“I don't know—” said Lee-1169. “Maybe Sawyer experienced it as brotherhood; I experienced it as one long argument and a lot of uncomfortable bumpy rides. And small dark places. It didn't seem like fun to me, let alone brotherhood.” He shrugged, made a face, looked around, and let the words tumble blindly out of his mouth. “I mean—look, why should we, any of us, members of the Alliance of Life lift even a single finger to save the life of a man who set out to track us down and betray us, who turned our TimeBinder over to the Zillabitch? I think . . . I mean, I feel for you guys, yeah. You got caught in a bad situation, but why should the rest of us have to rescue you, when you really haven't done anything to benefit any of us? I vote no.”

Beside him, William Three-Dollar frowned. Something about Lee's words bothered him. Nyota also looked uncomfortable. But elsewhere in the room, Arl-N nodded his agreement, as did Gito. M'bele wore a dark expression, Azra looked unhappy. Ota scowled with some inner torment. Robin turned away to the wall. Kask rumbled annoyingly. Shariba-Jen remained expressionless.

“Excuse me—?” A tiny voice broke the silence. Ibaka stood up in Kask's lap and shouted for attention. “Please—? May I speak?” He didn't wait for permission. He leapt up onto the table in front of Zillabar. He allowed himself a tiny growl, then turned around to face the rest of the room. “I don't know about the Alliance of Life or what it means or anything like that, but I do know that these men—” he pointed to Sawyer and Finn. “These men saved my life and they . . . they tried to help my brothers. Even if no one else here owes them anything, I do. They can have as much of my blood as they want.”

Harry Mertz found himself grinning with admiration. “Out of the mouths of puppies,” he said.

BOOK: A Covenant of Justice
12.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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